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serpentface · 3 days ago

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SPIRITUAL POLLUTION, THE GESTURES AGAINST EVIL, AND ABLUTION: A POST

The concepts of spiritual purity and pollution are central to the Faith of the Seven Faced God (and similar takes on the concept predate it throughout and beyond the immediate Wardi cultural sphere). There is no clean cut distinction between physical and spiritual health in this belief system (these concepts exist as a heavily overlapping venn diagram) and many methods intended to cleanse spiritual pollution address both realms.

The word for the concept referred to as spiritual pollution is 'mesechitse', which can translate to 'blockage' or 'severance' depending on the context (its underlying meaning is a pathway that has been stopped in some capacity).

At its core, spiritual pollution is a corruption of the living spirit (which is carried by/IS the blood). It causes both physical and spiritual problems. Polluted blood flows improperly and does not maintain the body’s natural stasis or integrity, causing or allowing disease or other bodily dysfunctions to occur. Many ailments are seen as wholly physical and internal in nature, occurring directly due to polluted blood flowing improperly and affecting key organs. Other diseases (particularly contagious or infectious disease) are known to be caused by dagi, which are harmful spirits that enter the body through orifices or wounds. A limited number of ailments (most notably pronounced schizophrenia-spectrum disorders or cognitive disabilities, unfortunately) are thought to be caused by possession by more powerful evil spirits.

At its worst, severe spiritual pollution is thought to impact or sever one's connection to God. Summarized very basically, severe pollution = blockage of flow between one's own living spirit and the greater spirit of God, which deprives a person of God's blessings and protection, severs them from the natural cycling of life and death (and prevents their necessary participation) and can put their afterlife in jeopardy.

Some degree of corruption to the living spirit is seen as completely inevitable and managed by the body, which physically expels some polluting agents via urine and feces, as well as menstruation (thus all of these substances are themselves dirty and polluting agents). It is reckoned as impossible for any living body to exist in a Completely spiritually pure state. The goal of cleansing (and broader practices revolving around spiritual integrity) is rather to maintain stasis of the body's natural cycling (and by extension a connection to God's living spirit) and to keep pollution contained and minimized.

If one's immortal soul successfully reaches the afterlife, it is then reborn into a spiritually pure existence incapable of being 'severed' from God in any capacity. God Itself is a spiritually pure being, but Its body and living spirit (the world and its cycles, manifested as Faces) is vulnerable. The purity of God's living spirit (and therefore the life-sustaining functions of the world that all beings depend upon) must be sustained, protected, and restored through right practice, which is what much what the public religion revolves around.

Spiritual pollution is a separate but overlapping concept with:

-Metaphysical vulnerability, the word for which is 'namne couyibase' (literally ‘lacking integrity of Being’). This is a state in which the body and living spirit is considered vulnerable to great change, for good or for bad. These states can have vital and positive uses (they are utilized in many rituals, and it is what allows for conception and birth), but must be entered with caution and intentionality. Uncontrolled namne couyibase can otherwise leave one open to forms of spiritual harm. -Curses, which are targeted infliction of harm (of all sorts- bad luck, evil spirits, etc) onto a person, place, or thing. A spiritually polluted body is has less resistance to curses, and curses can intensify this pollution. -Possession, which is when evil spirits attach themselves to or inhabit the body. In the vast majority of cases, possession does not mean an evil spirit is Controlling the body, merely harming it. A spiritually polluted body has less resistance to possession, and possession can intensify this pollution. -Ritual uncleanliness, which is a state of intensified spiritual pollution that requires complete prohibition from a person from entering sacred spaces or participating in certain rituals until they are made clean. The most common reasons for ritual uncleanliness are active menstruation, being in the mourning period, or having performed a known dirtying action without its required ablution (see below).

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Multiple levels of religious-medical practice are centered around maintaining the body's stasis and cleansing it of mesechitse whenever possible. The methods are both active and passive.

Passive methods include the wearing of protective objects/amulets or having the motifs on household items or as decoration (the most ubiquitous are charms like the pelatoche (lit: '(ocean) eye') or odatochent (lit. 'Gods eyes'), the skimmer woman, or phalluses, and the wearing of gull feathers), in addition to other beneficial/protective iconography (guardian lions are most common, though physical representations of each Face of God have beneficial functions).

Active methods cover a broad swath of rites and behaviors (which is even broader in non-doctrinal folk practices). I'll be focusing here on the two main everyday methods of protection/cleansing (rather than more specialized rites) that are supported by core doctrine and may be performed by anyone, rather than being restricted to priests.

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Gestures against evil

These are the absolute most basic protection methods, comprised of three core gestures.

Purity of intent: the hand is held with the palm facing upward, the pointer and pinky finger extended and the thumb and inner two fingers pressed together. This is the most directly ‘cleansing’ gesture, it attempts to bind uncleanliness within the body and thus to prevent inevitable background level spiritual pollution from the body infecting a pure environment or another person. You mostly perform this gesture while entering/leaving a protected or vulnerable space (literal or figurative).

Protection of spirit: the hand is held with the first two fingers pointed together, held upwards for generalized use or pointed for directed use. This is the simplest of apotropaic gestures, aiming to protect the body and spirit from outside harm. This is commonly used before or while entering contexts seen as physically and/or spiritually dangerous, or to un-aggressively counter an evil eye curse.

Dispelling of evil: The hand is held with the first two fingers pointing together, touched to the lips, and flicked away from the body. In practice, this is most commonly used to prevent attachment by malicious or otherwise harmful spirits that may have been evoked (you might perform this after you speak of someone believed to be an earthbound ghost or refer to an evil spirit directly, or immediately after touching a potentially contagious sick person (ideally followed by ablution)). This will not help you if evil spirits have fully Attached themselves to you, but can remove ones that have been attracted to you. Doing this gesture and flicking in the direction of another person is very rude.

These gestures have separate uses, but will often be performed in conjunction (usually in the order given) as a quick means of protecting oneself and the spaces around them. It is not considered a doctrinal replacement for ablution as it does not actually cleanse the spirit, but it attempts to reduce harm (both sustained and produced by the user).

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Ablutions:

Ablution is spiritually and physically cleansing the body with clean water. The metric for clean water is fairly expansive- ocean water, any flowing water, any clear lake, shallow water sources that are clear and free of (obvious) polluting elements such as animal corpses or unclean animal feces, any clear collected water.

The core requirement of an ablution is for the hands to be cleaned in all circumstances, and for other body parts to be cleansed in addition if the situation requires it. One must fully wet the hands/other affected areas and scrub thoroughly, and then use fresh water to rinse. If you have to clean other parts of your body, you save your hands for last (as they will be used for the cleaning).

It is appropriate to perform ablutions cooperatively, but the person assisting you should participate as well (ie- if you have someone washing your back, they should scrub and rinse their own hands after). Someone considered to be in a ritually unclean state that ablution will not immediately fix (the most common are actively menstruating or being in the midst of the mourning period) should not perform ablutions on others.

Note that there is no Hard distinction between bathing for spiritual cleanliness and bathing for physical cleanliness (there is a separate set of cultural standards for physical hygiene, but most hygiene expectations are Covered by ablution). In most circumstances, ablution is just a regular, sometimes tedious everyday activity rather than a solemn or special occasion.

The ritualized requirements denote that only the hands + any given affected body parts Must be washed, but ablutions will often be an aspect of a full-body bathing routine to meet other hygiene standards. (ie: someone performing ablution before making offerings or eating a meal is only Required to wash their hands, but will very often wash their whole bodies and clean their hair- offerings and a meal are (typically) daily activities, so this is a good time to just get a full bath in while you’re at it). It may additionally involve washing the skin with oil or soap, moisturizing the hair with oil, scraping away dead skin, and applying perfumes. This is not a ritual requirement and is performed because generally, people like to feel clean and smell nice.

The hard physicality of cleansing WITH WATER is KEY to this practice. Per core doctrine, there are no DIY cleansing methods that replace washing with water. If one does not have access to clean water for ablutions, they should not perform offerings whatsoever (but are allowed to pray) until they can be cleansed, and accept that they are receiving spiritual pollution by performing ablution-required tasks in the meantime. A blessing from a priest is the only doctrine-supported spiritually cleansing replacement for water ablutions. In practice many people will use the gestures against evil as a replacement (which is not supported by doctrine and is more common in folk religious practice), and virtually everyone will find ways to get physical contaminants off of their body either way (if you step in dog shit and don't have any water nearby, you're going to wipe it the hell off even if that doesn't make you ritually clean).

Times when such an ablution is generally considered a hard requirement:

Before bloodletting in prayer or making other offerings

Before meals

Before assisting in a birth

After menstruation ends

After receiving penetrative sex

After defecating

After urinating (this isn't as ubiquitously seen as a hard requirement, in a lot of cases people interpret it as 'only if you actually get pee on your hands')

After touching urine

After touching feces (many lines of thought make exceptions for the excrement of cattle and khait due to their clean and sacred status- this makes life a easier for the majority of people who have to use dry dung as fuel)

After touching a dead body (human or animal)

At the end of your mourning period for dead kin (traditionally as part of a larger ritual involving full body submergence in flowing water, rather than as a common ablution)

After touching someone else's blood (aside from rites that require it, in which the blood is expected to be clean and the cross-pollution of living spirit is intentional) (technically includes semen but this does not come up very often)

After touching most sick people (particularly with contagious diseases or any skin ailments)

After recovering from an illness (ablutions will be performed as an aspect of treatment as well)

Before entering most temple's inner shrines (and some temples altogether)

Also a requirement for participation in certain specific rites and/or festivals

The exact nuances on how hard these requirements are sometimes vary, particularly in instances revolving around touch. Official doctrine is that any unclean touch requires ablution, but in common practice this is sometimes reinterpreted as only a hard requirement when the touch occurs to the hands. Most practitioners do not perform an ablution immediately after an unclean touch occurs (if you're a field laborer and step in dung, you're probably going to wait to wash until you retire for the night), and not everyone performs ablutions every single time they 'should'.

Only drawing I have related to ablution under the cut (nudity)

This is one way to do it

#I think it was supposed to have dialogue besides #<- SERENE #but I don't remember what it was I drew it over a month ago #I've had the concepts of ritual washing + gestures against evil + general spiritual pollution mentioned a bunch without ever really #going over it so here it is #This society has pretty decent hygiene overall due to both the physical-spiritual health angle and also very specific hygiene #expectations. Most people are bathing in SOME form on a daily basis #Also the proto-proto-proto germ theory in seeing contagious diseases caused by evil spirits entering the body via orifices and wounds #- in conjunction with some levels of evidence-based medicinal experimentation - leads to some like actually effective forms of #prevention/protection (people effectively 'mask' around the sick to keep their mouths and noses protected from the spirits #and vinegar's ability as a disinfectant is recognized and used to prevent infections of wounds. Definitely not the most perfect #methods but not too bad)#.

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poeticpomegranate · 1 day ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ How to study: A note-taking and analytical reading guide ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

To preface,

One of the most important things to understand when it comes to learning, is the two styles of memory rehearsal.

Style 1: Elaborative Rehearsal

The act of understanding a concept so deeply it connects to your worldview, past experiences, and this piece of knowledge becomes yours.

Style 2: Maintained Rehearsal

Reviewing a piece of information to memorize a fact, but not the concept and the roots of the context.

+ It is important to think for yourself; form your own connections and learn because you want to learn, not just in hopes of getting good marks. Knowledge is beautiful and powerful, and should be utilized in the appropriate way.

Part 1: Reading non-fiction/informative based texts

Technique 1: "The Walden Method"

Step 1: Inspectional reading

Quickly (!!) read the entire chapter

Know exactly what happened

Know exactly what stood out to you

Know what to look for

+ Highlight things that stand out to you (in any way) and/or take small notes in the margins ("interesting!" "what" "love!")

(This forms the backbone of your understanding for this topic)

Step 2: Analytical reading

Gather a general understanding of the material

Create a concise map of your thoughts, and small details of the text

+ Intricate connections begin to take place because pieces of information now make sense with the general backbone you formed in the inspectional reading.

Step 3: Take notes in a flow-like fashion

Write down the backbone ideas/concepts

(What year did the French Revolution take place? What were its important influences? Who were important figures during this time?)

Elaborate on these backbone ideas/concepts to give you a visual representation of the connections you made with your backbone, and to see what still needs to be understood.

Part 2: Taking notes of non-fiction/informative based texts

Technique 2: "The Cal Newport Method" - (for non-technical subjects)

Base your notes around these three points in this order to make your notes as clear and concise as possible:

Q-question

E-evidence

A-answer

+ When/if you are in a lecture, scribble down everything your instructor says of importance, and then revise your notes immediately after.

+ You must group your evidence and conclusion pieces carefully, being sure to link the proper piece of evidence to the correct conclusion.

(EX:

Question: What are Emily's favorite colors?

Evidence #1: Her mother says she likes pink.

Evidence #2: Her father says she likes pink, and yellow.

Evidence #3: Her brother says she likes blue, but only when its December.

Conclusion: Emily's general favorite colors are pink and yellow, as well as blue only when it is December.

^^ It is important to include the bit about it being her favorite color only in December because it would be incorrect to say it is one of her general favorite colors.)

Technique 3: "The Cal Newport Method" - (for technical subjects)

Base your notes around these three points in this order to make your notes as clear and concise as possible:

P-problem

Q-question

A-answer

Step 1: Understand the large, basic concepts first

+ Do not drive head first into math problems or questions concerning the nervous system if you do not understand the large, basic concepts first.

Step 2: Note-taking

Write down practice problems/diagrams/equations, etc.

Write each step to solving/understanding this problem/diagram/equation, etc.

Annotate each step, explaining why this is so

For equations, write down a practice problem for each possible alternative outcome that can happen

(EX:

1. How to solve an algebraic equation.

2. How to solve an algebraic equation with a square root.

3. How to solve an algebraic equation with square roots, etc.

Technique 4: The Feynman Method

You do not fully understand a subject until you can explain it to a child, and reword it yourself without notes

Part 3: Studying non-fiction/informative based texts

Testing yourself with flashcards and quizzes

Forces you to actively retrieve knowledge, which updates, and reinforces memory

Allows you to actively gage what you already know

Making mistakes actually improves knowledge and memory

2. Use flashcards

When using flashcards, it is best to mix the deck with multiple subjects, interweaving the concepts you focus on in a single session, is more effective than practicing a single skill one at a time.

This further strengthens memory because it forces the brain to temporarily forget, then retrieve information.

You may also find connections across the topics, making it more significant to your brain.

3. Rest, review, rest, review

Spacing reviews across multiple days allows for rest, and retention between sessions.

+ Cramming is not effective because while you could remember information from the night previously, it will not stay ingrained in your long term memory, or even just as likely in your memory the next morning...

Part 3: On essay writing

The more complicated your essay is, the dumber it sounds.

When writing a research paper, refine the scope of your research and don't be afraid to narrow it.

When writing a research paper, create a pile of at least 20 academic papers on the same subject.

+ Sift through these papers with your scope in mind

+ This is the breeding ground for new ideas

Give yourself time to process information right after reading.

View the writing process as an exploration

This is a collection of information collected from these sources:

R. C. Walden - Youtube

youtube

Cal Newport - How to become a straight-A student: The unconventional strategies real college students use to score high while studying less

TED-Ed

youtube

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benjaminagunn · 5 months ago

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sorry but i’m officially exhausted of people reducing the scene in while vane stands in miranda’s house contemplating her teacups to vane saying “lol ur gay for having a house”

#the things it must take to maintain this:#you have to import the teacups. you have to decide that having porcelain drink wear is important enough to take up space in the ships hold #to take care of those delicate teacups every step of the journey #you put the teacups in a house and you say i am going to keep this house standing #in the face of hurricanes & shifting imperial borders & drunken pirates #i will keep the teacups intact #because the teacups remind me of sitting in a room in london and drinking tea like a Civilized person #do you think eleanor ever offered vane tea in her nice porcelain. lmao.

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mikkeneko · 4 months ago

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pondering how despite all expectation, capitalism actually isn't very good for businesses, either

#a business is an entity that employs workers to produce a good or service for sale to a customer #for a business to continue to exist in the long term that means it has to care about the actual component parts of this process #a business that means to continue to exist has to care about its reputation its customer satsifaction and its employee productivity #and therefore must take steps to ensure that all of these things are maintained #capital however does not actually give a shit about the survival of the business #capital gives a shit about wealth flow into itself #and the moment the capital decides it can suck more wealth out of this business by destroying it than by continuing it #it will do so #and the business will die #also hurt a lot of customers and workers in the meantime. but the point is that literally not even the business does well here

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screambirdscreaming · 5 months ago

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I used to like saying "gender is a social construct," but I stopped saying that because people didn't tend to react well - they thought that I was saying gender wasn't real, or didn't matter, or could be safely ignored without consequences. Which has always baffled me a bit as an interpretation, honestly, because many things are social constructs - like money, school, and the police - and they certainly have profound effects on your life whether or not you believe in them. And they sure don't go away if you ignore them.

Anyway. What I've taken to saying instead is, "gender is a cultural practice." This gives more of a sense of respect for the significance gender holds to many people. And it also opens the door to another couple layers of analysis.

Gender is cultural. It is not globally or historically homogeneous. It shifts over time, develops differently in different communities, and can be influenced by cross-cultural contact. Like many, many aspects of culture, the current status of gender is dramatically influenced by colonialism. Colonial gender norms are shaped by the hierarchical structure of imperialist society, and enforced onto colonized cultures as part of the project of imperial cultural hedgemony.

Gender is practiced. What constitutes a gender includes affects and behaviors, jobs or areas of work, skillsets, clothing, collective and individual practices of gender affiliation and affirmation. Any or all of these things, in any combination, depending on the gender, the culture, and the practitioner.

Gender encompasses shared cultural archetypes. These can include specific figures - gods and goddesses, mythic or fictional characters, etc - or they can be more abstract or general. The Wise Woman, Robin Hood, the Dyke, the Working Man, the Plucky Heroine, the Effete Gay Man, etc etc. The range of archetypes does not circumscribe a given gender, that is, they're not all there is to gender. But they provide frameworks and reference points by which people relate to gender. They may be guides for ways to inhabit or practice a gender. They may be stereotypes through which the gendered behavior of others is viewed.

Gender as a framework can be changed. Because it is created collectively, by shared acknowledgement and enforcement by members of society. Various movements have made significant shifts in how gender is structured at various times and places. The impact of these shifts has been widely variable - for example, depending on what city I'm in, even within my (fairly culturally homogeneous) home country, the way I am gendered and reacted to changes dramatically. Looping back to point one, we often speak of gender in very broad terms that obscure significant variability which exists on many scales.

Gender is structured recursively. This can be seen in the archetypes mentioned above, which range from extremely general (say, the Mother) to highly specific (the PTA Soccer Mom). Even people who claim to acknowledge only two genders will have many concepts of gendered-ways-of-being within each of them, which they may view and react to VERY differently.

Gender is experienced as an external cultural force. It cannot be opted out of, any more than living in a society can be opted out of. Regardless of the internal experience of gender, the external experience is also present. Operating within the shared cultural understanding of gender, one can aim to express a certain practice of gender - to make legible to other people how it is you interface with gender. This is always somewhat of a two-way process of communication. Other people may or may not perceive what you're going for - and they may or may not respect it. They may try to bring your expressed gender into alignment with a gender they know, or they might parcel you off into your own little box.

Gender is normative. Within the structure of the "cultural mainstream," there are allowable ways to practice gender. Any gendered behavior is considered relative to these standards. What behavior is allowed, rewarded, punished, or shunned is determined relative to what is gender normative for your perceived gender. Failure to have a clearly perceivable gender is also, generally, punished. So is having a perceivable gender which is in itself not normative.

Gender is taught by a combination of narratives, punishments, and encouragements. This teaching process is directed most strongly towards children but continues throughout adulthood. Practice of normatively-gendered behaviors and alignment with 'appropriate' archetypes is affirmed, encouraged, and rewarded. Likewise 'other'- gendered behavior and affinity to archetypes is scolded, punished, or shunned. This teaching process is inherently coercive, as social acceptance/rejection is a powerful force. However it can't be likened to programming, everyone experiences and reacts to it differently. Also, this process teaches the cultural roles and practices of both (normative) genders, even as it attempts to force conformity to only one.

Gender regulates access to certain levers of social power. This one is complicated by the fact that access to levers of social power is also affected by *many* other things, most notably race, class, and citizenship. I am not going to attempt to describe this in any general terms, I'm not equipped for that. I'll give a few examples to explain what I'm talking about though. (1) In a social situation, a man is able to imply authority, which is implicitly backed by his ability to intimidate by yelling, looming, or threatening physical violence. How much authority he is perceived to have in response to this display is a function of his race and class. It is also modified by how strongly he appears to conform to a masculine ideal. Whether or not he will receive social backlash for this behavior (as a separate consideration to how effective it will be) is again a function of race/class/other forms of social standing. (2) In a social situation, a woman is able to invoke moral judgment, and attempt to modify the behavior of others by shame. The strength of her perceived moral authority depends not just on her conformity to ideal womanhood, but especially on if she can invoke certain archetypes - such as an Innocent, a Mother, or better yet a Grandmother. Whether her moral authority is considered a relevant consideration to influence the behavior of others (vs whether she will be belittled or ignored) strongly depends on her relative social standing to those she is addressing, on basis of gender/race/class/other.

[Again, these examples are *not* meant to be exhaustive, nor to pass judgment on employing any social power in any situation. Only to illustrate what "gendered access to social power" might mean. And to illustrate that types of power are not uniform and may play out according to complex factors.]

Gender is not based in physical traits, but physical traits are ascribed gendered value. Earlier, I described gender as practiced, citing almost entirely things a person can do or change. And I firmly believe this is the core of gender as it exists culturally - and not just aspirationally. After the moment when a gender is "assigned" based on infant physical characteristics, they are raised into that gender regardless of the physical traits they go on to develop (in most circumstances, and unless/until they denounce that gender.) The range of physical traits like height, facial shape, body hair, ability to put on muscle mass - is distributed so that there is complete overlap between the range of possible traits for people assigned male and people assigned female. Much is made of slight trends in things that are "more common" for one binary sex or the other, but it's statistically quite minor once you get over selection bias. However, these traits are ascribed gendered connotations, often extremely strongly so. As such, the experience of presented and perceived gender is strongly effected by physical traits. The practice of gender therefore naturally expands to include modification of physical traits. Meanwhile, the social movements to change how gender is constructed can include pushing to decrease or change the gendered association of physical traits - although this does not seem to consistently be a priority.

Gender roles are related to the hypothetical ability to bear children, but more obliquely than is often claimed. It is popular to say that the types of work considered feminine derive from things it is possible to do while pregnant or tending small children. However, research on the broader span of human history does not hold this up. It may be true of the cultures that gave immediate rise to the colonial gender roles we are familiar with - secondary to the fact that childcare was designated as women's work. (Which it does not have to be, even a nursing infant doesn't need to be with the person who feeds it 24 hours a day.) More directly, gender roles have been influenced by structures of social control aiming for reproductive control. In the direct precursors of colonial society, attempts to track paternal lineage led to extreme degrees of social control over women, which we still see reflected in normative gender today. Many struggles for women's liberation have attempted to push back these forms of social control. It is my firm opinion that any attempt to re-emphasize childbearing as a touchstone of womanhood is frankly sick. We are at a time where solidarity in struggle for gender liberation, and for reproductive rights, is crucial. We need to cast off shackles of control in both fights. Trying to tie childbearing back to womanhood hobbles both fights and demeans us all.

Gender is baked deeply enough into our culture that it is unlikely to ever go away. Many people feel strongly about the practice of gender, in one way or another, and would not want it to. However we have the power to change how gender is structured and enforced. We can push open the doors of what is allowable, and reduce the pain of social punishment and isolation. We can dismantle another of the tools of colonial hedgemony and social control. We can change the culture!

#Gender theory #I have gotten so sick of seeing posts about gender dynamics that have no robust framework of what gender IS #so here's a fucking. manifesto. apparently.#I've spent so long chewing on these thoughts that some of this feels like. it must be obvious and not worth saying.#but apparently these are not perspectives that are really out in the conversation?#Most of this derives from a lot of conversations I've had in person. With people of varying gender experiences.#A particular shoutout to the young woman I met doing collaborative fish research with an indigenous nation #(which feels rude to name without asking so I won't)#who was really excited to talk gender with me because she'd read about nonbinary identity but I was the first nb person she'd met #And her perspective on the cultural construction of gender helped put so many things together for me.#I remember she described her tribe's construction of gender as having been put through a cookie cutter of colonial sexism #And how she knew it had been a whole nuanced construction but what remained was really. Sexist. In ways that frustrated her.#And yet she understood why people held on to it because how could you stand to loose what was left?#And how she wanted to see her tribe be able to move forward and overcome sexism while maintaining their traditional practices in new ways #As a living culture is able to.#Also many other trans people of many different experiences over the years.#And a handful of people who were involved in the various feminist movements of the past century when they had teeth #Which we need to have again.#I hate how toothless gender discourse has become.#We're all just gnawing at our infighting while the overall society goes wildly to shit #I was really trying to lay out descriptive theory here without getting into My Opinions but they got in there the last few bullet points #I might make some follow up posts with some of my slightly more sideways takes #But I did want to keep this one to. Things I feel really solidly on.

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arysthaeniru · 7 months ago

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"This language of work was by no means the private language of a single-minded maniac who had lived too long under the volcano. To the contrary, Hill’s ideas were on the leading edge of the terrain where biological science and social science intersected. In particular, the concept of the calorie, as a measure of both energy consumed and work done, emerged in connection with the steam-engine-based economics of work in mid-nineteenth century Europe. By the turn of the twentieth century, the calorie had developed into a unit of equivalency between what people ate and how much work they could generate, what they needed to consume and what they were capable of producing—effectively recasting the body as a measurable machine.Whether or not Hill had a formal grasp of the field of expert knowledge cohering around the calorie and its implications for labor management and social policy, he did understand it implicitly, for he paid his employees in food. He used the way of seeing the relation of food and work that gained expression in the science of the calorie in his campaign to reduce the people who worked on his plantations to mechanisms of value production—to make them his."

Augustine Sedgewick - Against Flows

(emphasis mine)

#i highly recommend reading the whole article #it's a bit dense at points #but it pushes back against this idea of capitalism as flows #where work is subsumed and made as natural as water flowing #but this particular passage really fucking struck me #i spend a lot of time railing against how dieting and calorie counting asks us to reduce ourselves #make ourselves smaller and take up less room #i hadn't fully grasped how much capitalists created calories to be an efficiency model #how little input-food can you put into the machine-person while still maintaining output-productivity?#it is a fundamentally unhuman way of thinking #we must reject calories to reject capitalism #we deserve to eat more than the barest fucking minimum #we are not robots #we are not efficient machines #we are not water either #we are humans #messy and sticky and inefficient and that's a good thing #anti-dieting #anti-capitalism

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koishua · 7 months ago

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shining solo ep 8. my reaction rn 😐😐 took it a bit hard lmao

#tp #very mixed feelings. as someone who associates herself with jeongwoo and having very similar personalities... this ep hurt a lot #idk idk #i mean i get it but i also absolutely do not get it #so many thoughts im taking this very personally what the heck #i cant really warm up to half of this part's girlies im sorry #i loved everyone on part one #as someone who also struggles with managing my social energy lvls... this was a slap in the face #bc my boy jeongwoo truly gave it his ALL the whole day and even managed to perform a couple songs for the girls #despite already having spent the whole day together #and his energy must have been SPENT already and then they pick him as MVP of the day and he has that 1:5 date with all of the girls #by himself!! which is so terrifying imagine being the one person who everyone's attention is on and you have to interact with these ppl #that you arent very comfortable with but you still try your best to give them a good time #AND THEN!! they give you NOTHING in return?? not even a recorder?? no jewel no recording nothing. just ignored like that by everyone #and i get that the girls dont know who's voting for who so they might have believed someone else was gonna give him a jewel or sth #but no one gives him anything (positive OR negative)#and yeah. he was absolutely shocked at the empty safe. i would have been too.#and why did they not give him a jewel y'all might ask??? IT WAS BC HE FELL SILENT DURING THE LAST BIT: THE DINNER #my gosh that's the part that i take offense to personally bc it's really really really difficult to always engage in convos with ppl #after spending the whole day with them already?? and your social battery is down so you quietly enjoy a simple meal??#and then all the girlies threw him away like that??#i mean yeah you're surrounded by sweet men who spend the day appealing themselves to you but come on??#i would have been so impressed by jeongwoo and thankful that he put that much effort in and would understand how difficult it is to #maintain it till the very end because not everyone has hyunsuk's boundless social energy #no offense hyunsuk i love you dearly #and also??? what's up with admitting that you lack some confidence upfront??#the girl's reasoning for giving yoshi the voice recorder was that he said he holds himself to a high standard and lacks confidence sometimes #and i get it. being confident is more attractive than someone who's always insecure and puts themselves down #(and makes the other person uncomfortable) but they were having an honest and deep convo when the thing he said in that convo was used #against him in the end? i would feel kind of betrayed too bc being able to admit that you feel insecure sometimes is a v brave thing to do!!

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hawnks · 2 years ago

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life is so hard and i am literally two inches big……

#I’m so tired today #I wish there was a way for me to exist in my field without being constantly exploited #I’m so manic pixie dream girl coded it’s like they can’t even think of me as a human being #just something that generates content for them to use and incorporate into their own projects #fighting against all odds to maintain my life’s thesis…. that a story is first and foremost a companion #these stories were my friends before they were someone else’s meal ticket #I’m just burnt out with people taking advantage of me #I want to nap #but there’s more work to do #chanting to myself over and over: is this the thing you love more than your own ego #can it be that thing?#it must

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medicinemane · 2 months ago

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Well, I seem to have gotten my minecart system working. No lost carts this time

Just... slowed the whole system way way way down, after a lot of research the best answer seems to be that too many carts too quick overwhelms the hopper, and taking a closer look as I was dismantling things showed me that the observer was managing to send two pulses

So I added my go to comparator decay clock and then with a little work put a falling edge monostable circuit (ie a piston with an observer on it that triggers nothing when pushed but something when pulled back), so basically it's extended when the signal is decaying and only goes off once the signal dies... double pulse from the observer just extends the timer

Still reasonably depressed. I've said it before, I'm just brittle at this point. It's not like some stupid cart system in minecraft is making me want to die... I'm just fucking tired of living, so guess what? This just adds to the list of reasons to fuck off

Nothing I do matters. This doesn't matter in the slightest. I build it more compulsively than with any purpose

I want to finish that mountain base (which is still probably a few years off at least at this pace), and I just kinda want to finish it cause I want to finish it... but can you honestly say that once it's all said and done, that I won't just pass it to my friend who I play with, and then in like 20 years when I'm dead it won't fall victim to digital decay without anyone even having seen it?

Like be honest for a minute, it's not gonna stop me working on it, but be honest and ask yourself... will anyone besides one other person even see it?

I don't need a million fans or something, I'd just like some of the shit I do to matter or last a bit... and nothing does

Tell me a single thing I've done that actually has some kind of meaningful impact... or anything that I'll ever do

#mm minecraft #this tag isn't really meant for me to be morose in; but truthfully minecraft reflects back a lot of my real world issues #mm tag so i can find things later #redstone reflecting back how painful it is for me to wing it and teach myself something I don't know #the trouble building reflecting back how hard it is to gather my thoughts enough to act instead of getting decision paralysis #so it's not really the place for it; but I'll just add that one of the things that eats at me is that no one will ever love me #everyone likes me; I'm polite and people mistake that for kindness; it's rare for people not to like me #but no one's ever going to love me... frankly no one's going to have me around unless I'm making myself useful #the second I stop being useful people stop talking until the next time they need something #...it's not intentional... I think people are just busy and get caught up in their own lives #but I could give probably 50 examples easy off the top of my head #if I'm not actively maintaining a conversation; then it dies (not like I don't let conversations drop myself... not like I always respond)#I'm not really mad... just alone #maybe I manage to teach out of my basement; give other people what I wish I had now #I'll be lost in a crowd; surrounded by people who like me (and how useful I am) and then alone at night forever till I die #so why wait?#I'd ask 'does that makes sense?' but lets be honest; there's no one here in the tags with me #most of what I say just goes into the void and... honestly... I don't think the void stares back... I think it's just me; empty; alone #...don't take this as me being perfect and put upon by my inferior friends and acquaintances #I like people; they care; they do their best and are just... kinda bad at it; but they care #and I constantly fall short; most of this must be my own making; and I certainly often lack the words to support people #but... is there a scrap of... of reason in what I'm saying? can people care but never be there unless they need something?#or unless I'm keeping the conversation going?#I liaise and get someone into a friend group for support... it's not like I get an invitation to join too #and certainly it's true I didn't ask and no one's mind readers; I told you it's my own creation... and would I even have things in common?#but it's the... never really asking; you know?#I listen to very interesting things from my friend all day; but when I say something... it just gets ignored #I'm suicidal on a trip that... I still kinda don't know why I was asked to come visit...#but I'm suicidal there; and the support I get is asking me to pray... I'm miserable and worthless; so you'll convert me?#(save me; I know; give me the spiritual tonic; I get it... it was meant in earnest to help... but do you get my perspective?)

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screampied · 1 month ago

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#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru

☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist

at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.

“oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.

with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”

“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”

“don’t call me that.”

“just did.”

oh, brother.

the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.

“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”

with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.

satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.

he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.

again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.

the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.

satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.

he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.

“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”

“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.

a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”

shit.

he had a point.

after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.

you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.

you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”

satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.

you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.

there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.

there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.

you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.

satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,

“make me.”

so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.

not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.

and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.

glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.

“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.

satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.

as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.

his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.

you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.

perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.

his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.

curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.

it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”

“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.

satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.

he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.

a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.

satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.

“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”

cute.

you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.

“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.

he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.

you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.

satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.

wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.

with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.

all six eyes were fixated between your legs—

satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.

he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.

he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.

“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”

“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.

fuck, he had such long fingers.

you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .

“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.

again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.

you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.

already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.

satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.

you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.

it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!

“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.

satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.

satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.

you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.

only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.

“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”

“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.

like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.

he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.

this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.

he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.

“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.

coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.

just . . one . . more,

right?

well, that’s what you told yourself.

but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.

two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.

his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.

it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.

and it does - it definitely does.

“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.

satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.

starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”

“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.

he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.

“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”

“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.

satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”

“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.

pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.

satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.

satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.

god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.

“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.

from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.

your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.

the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”

“are you gonna fuck me or n—”

“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.

inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.

satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.

his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.

satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.

your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.

it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”

and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.

the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .

you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.

satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.

it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.

satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.

you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.

heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..

his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.

with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”

“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.

you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.

he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.

you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.

and his stamina . . oh,

it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.

“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.

satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.

he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”

you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”

“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.

you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.

the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.

with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.

you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.

your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.

as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’

“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.

he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”

satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.

his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.

“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.

you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”

“how about you stop talking-”

“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”

radio silence.

you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.

“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.

his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.

the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”

“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.

satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”

“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.

you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.

“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”

with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”

“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.

as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.

within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—

it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.

the woman he always knew - his wife.

“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”

“pretty please what, sweetheart?”

he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.

with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”

“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.

satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.

you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”

white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.

when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.

pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.

he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.

bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.

gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.

satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.

he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.

a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.

you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.

he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.

“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.

slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”

“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.

with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”

“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.

he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.

it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.

satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.

you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.

it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..

satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.

“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”

like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.

as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.

fuck it.

fuck him - literally.

“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.

like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.

“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.

it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”

you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”

“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.

he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.

“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.

as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.

“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”

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