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fictionadventurer · 1 year

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Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.

But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.

That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.

This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.

Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.

If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.

#it's a wonderful life #i know i've probably reached my quota of long posts about this movie #but i kept thinking about it and wanted to organize my thoughts into something a bit more refined #even though i'm mostly just restating what i said yesterday

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chosopie · 2 months

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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.

SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.

cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy

: ̗̀➛ part 1

The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.

Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.

You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.

“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.

You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.

“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.

Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.

It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.

You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.

“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.

“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.

His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.

“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”

Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.

Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.

“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.

“I know,” you smirked.

“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.

“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.

“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.

Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.

He was way too big.

This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.

“It’s my first time,” you panted.

“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”

That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”

“It is the culture of my homeland.”

Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.

It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.

“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”

“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”

Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.

“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.

“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”

With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.

Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.

Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.

“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.

“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”

All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?

“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”

: ̗̀➛ part 3

#rev.writes #thank u sm for 200 followers!!!!!#ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna smut

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catcrazies-midnight · 2 years

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thinking abt the Light in jieu’reis culture actually thinking abt how in the void of space it bore itself and in it the Ten and in them the Mother and in it the blae and how they are all a shadow with a Light at its heart a Shadow with a light at its heart a shadow with a light at its heart and everything around it for incomprehensible distances are made in its fractal image and one day in the far far future beyond the perception of any living thing the Light will blow up in a great ball of fire and take everything it created with it but it is not sapient and it did not intend to create or to exist and it simply was because in the presence of the shadows there must be a Light and in the presence of the Shadows there must be a light and in the presence of the shadows there must be a light and it is worshipped and it is above anything but it is not a god and it is not alive it is simply a rule that the presence of one means the existance of the other

#this is abt fictional cultures btw #well theirs a literal magic crowbar involved if that helps #the animal moment #aslo thinking abt how absurd humans must be to blae #blae are dextere enough to avoid hurting them but any tiny flunctuation in pressure or temperature will kill them #put out their fire so to speak but humans have no fire because they are made of delecately #arranged stones and flesh and little sacks of water water water that would kill any blies if released #but too much water will kill them too and so will losing their water and being shaken or crushed or #heated just a little too much and yet they spread across every section of the crust they could #and they are so delicate and so small and when they arrange their forces they have the power to #destroy anything they please even those larger than they could dream to be or comprehend #even blae themselves which dominate only because they are larger than anything else #jeiu'reis tag name #<*.*#writing #<i think all tag it as that i think it counts #ummmmmmmmmm send post

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humusboii2thereturnoftheking · 3 months

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Palestine is Ruining the Left

I've taken this from Reddit because I've found it an interesting read, I did not write this myself, a user named u/ u/TooLittleNuance did. Feel free to reply and engage in converation.

I'm an Israeli-American leftist who has been active in American and Israeli politics for a number of years now. I have always advocated for human rights, equity, and self-determination for Palestinians who are oppressed(to different extents) under Israel, a nation that commits itself to Jewish domination of institutions. I always voted and campaigned for progressive Democrats and I assisted with the Israeli Meretz party from abroad. This is why I think the current Palestinian-sympathetic movement is ruining the left:

Abandonment of Pragmatism - Just like the 2020 George Floyd protests("Defund the Police"), the Western left has completely embraced a suicidal strategy of idealistic radicalism. Many of those on the left insist the solution to the conflict is a one-state solution consisting of Palestine "from the River to the Sea". Unfortunately, they've appropriated the Palestinian mythology in their ambitions to magically destroy Israel and the ideology of Zionism by BDS somehow or supporting Palestinian "armed struggle". It doesn't take a lot of thought to see how both of those methods are incredibly ineffective and immoral to advocate for and implement. So, instead of a pragmatic approach, like empowering the Israeli left through donations and advocacy, supporting a reasonable solution(two-state or one-state under Israel), or calling for the ultimate humanitarian end to the war of a unilateral Hamas surrender, the Western left insists on a dream scenario that will never happen. This is the most egregious behavior of the left and it's their most common mistake(i.e. Vietnam). This is due to the fact that Palestinians, especially in Gaza, are suffering under disproportionate Israeli force with no Western movement to realistically end it. In fact, these Western leftists, due to these tactics, are assisting in empowering and legitimizing the far-right of Israel. They are the perfect strawman to turn people off to the left in Israel, which, in turn, results in a lengthened Palestinian suffering.

Maximalism - There's a tendency on the left to outcompete each other in radicalism. It's not catchy or sexy to say "The war tactics that Israel uses are disproportionate and don't consider enough of the humanitarian cost", it has to be "genocide" or "ethnic cleansing" in order to provoke an emotional reaction from uneducated Westerners. It's not "the security policy of Hafradah has resulted in reduced human rights of Palestinians compared to Israelis", it has to be "Apartheid"(with the only legal precedent being South Africa). These maximalist statements immeasurably hurt the movement for true progress on Palestinian human rights. It results in a boy-who-cried-wolf situation: If Israel decides to transfer the entire Gazan population to the Sinai, what is that called? A "genocide"? Due to the present labeling of the war, nobody will believe it. What if Israel permanently transfers or kills 100,000 Palestinian civilians? 200,000? 1 million? What will that be called? How can it get worse than "genocide"? This Maximalist rhetoric is not only inaccurate, but it's incredibly damaging to describe the proportionate extent of Palestinian suffering, which is vital to any movement that faithfully advocates for an upliftment of Palestinian life and identity.

Normalization of Bigotry - Explicit or latent Jew-Hatred is being increasingly embraced by radical sections of the Western left. Tropes such as "Zionist"(a euphemism for "Jew" for many) control of governments or blood libel. Wishing "Death to Zionists" or equating them with Nazis is, in most cases, latent Jew-Hatred. Regardless of your thoughts on the definition of Zionism(there is no definition, it is a meaningless term), it's clear that many believe that "Zionists" are just uppity Jews. Of course, this is genuinely believed by a small portion of the left. However, a substantial part of Western leftists has repeatedly failed to condemn this Jew-Hatred and to stop mirroring the language of these latent or explicit Jew-Haters. This is 1000x worse in the case of Israelis. For Western leftists, it's normal to call Israelis "colonizers", "demons", "rapists", and "child-murderers" on their social media without repercussion or introspective irony. As somebody belonging to the Israeli nationality, I have been desensitized to the insane amount of bigotry from those that I formerly respected. However, many Israelis or Jews aren't as depersonalized as I am, and they definitely take the bigotry to heart. What do you think results from that? Usually, a vote for Likud(Netanyahu's Party) or a donation to AIPAC. Thus, propagating a cycle of bigotry and continuing the suffering of Palestinians.

Propaganda - This war has sparked the largest disinformation campaigns in human history. Multiple state entities (Israel, U.S., Russia, Iran, Qatar) and numerous private entities are pumping out loads of propaganda in order to manipulate uneducated Westerners into supporting their interests. Since October 7th, known Russian disinformation propagator, Jackson Hinkle, has skyrocketed in followers due to his ability to mislead Western leftists on the war. I have seen an unfathomable amount of reposts from Al Jazeera and MiddleEastEye, known Qatari state propaganda and major propagates of misinformation. I have always appreciated the value of institutional skepticism that embodied many of the historical and academic leftist leaders. However, right now, those values are completely thrown out in favor of Russia or Iran's geopolitical advocacy of "everything the West does is bad". The previous three points of behavior are certainly emboldened by the paid disinformation and bots that propagate anti-Western sentiment to destabilize Western democracy. Meanwhile, the basic interests of Palestinian civilians are left unregarded while these state operatives kill their only lifeline.

Reactionary Resurgence - One of the main factors that attracted me to the left was its rejection of reactionary ideology(the establishment of traditional institutions from the past). For Israelis and Palestinians, reactionary rhetoric is normalized and encouraged in many cases. However, this reactionary ideology that has plagued those who share my nationality has spread to Western leftists in their advocacy for Palestine. Western leftists constantly appropriate the far-right and reactionary talking points that many radicalized Palestinians spout. An example would be the insistence on the exclusive indigeneity of Palestine from the River to the Sea, which abandons the progressive values of anti-nationalism and intersectionality. Another example would be the appropriation of Palestinian Martyrdom, in which many of them embraced the idea that human life can be inherently reduced to a political or national cause by their manner of death. This is a clear rejection of the values of individualism, secularism, and anti-nationalism.

Historical Negligence - Those who are even a little bit informed on the Israel-Palestinian Conflict understand that the conflict is too complex to be treated as a soccer match of Israelis vs. Palestinians. Many Israeli and Palestinian leaders set roadblocks to an equitable peace, while many others progressed the conflict to a more positive state. Even more than the historical complexity of this conflict, evaluating the moral complexity requires a graduate degree in a relevant field with hundreds of hours of research. I typically advise not to trust anybody's commentary of the conflict with any less credibility than the previous sentence. However, the Western left has instead decided to follow the historical and moral analysis of demagogues. There's constantly factually wrong or misleading historical information on many of these Palestinian-sympathetic accounts. An example is the map of a "disappearing Palestine" that millions have reposted, a blatantly misleading map meant to depict "Zionist colonization", meanwhile, neglecting the historical borders of the conflict. There are many other forms of historical negligence that they commonly employ that are extremely damaging for understanding the conflict.

In conclusion, Western leftists are keeping up with the Western traditions of white saviorism and interfering with this particular trendy foreign conflict. I could have written a few more grievances that I have of the Western left(including the embracement of far-right Islamist groups) but I wanted to keep the post relatively short. In several months, Western leftists will forget about the Gazans suffering under the disproportional force of the IDF. Nobody will self-criticize the ideas or tactics that they engaged in, meanwhile, the Israeli left-wing and reliable non-Hamas Palestinian advocacy organizations are left in the dust by an ineffective white-savior-esqe Western movement. Not only that but due to all of these factors making the left look like lunatics, Biden and the Democrats are being affected in the polling, which may result in Trump being elected, a terrible outcome for Palestinians.

#freegazafromhamas #hamasisisis #israel #palestine #leftism #politics #israel palestine conflict #israel hamas conflict #middle east #usa #america #jerusalem #west bank #gaza #genocide #apartheid #ethnic cleansing

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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against the logic of the lawn

Imagine a box.

This box is sealed with tape or adhesive, which shows you that it has never been opened or re-used. It is in pristine condition. Apart from that, the box could hold anything. It could contain a Star Wars Funko Pop, a printer, a shirt ordered from some sketchy online vendor, a knockoff store-brand cereal, six individually wrapped protein bars.

As a Consumer ("the" Consumer) this is your fundamental right: To purchase a box that is, presumably, identical to every other box like it.

When you Buy Product, it arrives in a box, entire of itself and without context. It has not changed since its creation. If and when Product does change—whether it is broken, spoiled, used up, or eaten—you can Buy Product that is identical in every meaningful way to the original.

It's okay if this doesn't make sense yet. (You can stop imagining the box now.)

Imagine instead a suburban housing development, somewhere in the USA.

Imagine row on row of pristine, newly built houses, each constructed with small, meaningless variations in their aesthetic, all with beige or white vinyl siding and perhaps some decorative brick, all situated on identical rectangles of land covered with freshly unrolled sod. This is the Product that every consumer aspires to Buy.

I am not exactly—qualified, or entitled, to speak on the politics of land ownership in this country. My ancestors benefited directly from the genocide of Native Americans, which allowed Europeans to steal the land they lived on, which is where a lot of wealth comes from in the end, even today. However, I have eyes in my head to see that the act of colonizing a continent, and an economic system that formed as a supporting infrastructure to colonization, have embedded something almost irreparably dysfunctional into the dominant American culture's relationship to land.

This dysfunctional Thing, this Sickness, leads us to consider land to be a Product, and to consider a human upon the land to be a Consumer.

From this point of view, land is either locked into this relationship of control and "use" to varying extents, or it is free of human influence. People trying to reason about how to preserve Earth's biosphere, working within this framework without realizing, decide that we must "set aside" large areas of land for "nature."

This is a naive and, I would reckon, probably itself colonialist way of seeing things. It appears to be well-validated by evidence. Where human population is largest, there is less biodiversity.

But I find the broad conclusions to be strikingly unscientific. The plan of "setting aside part of Earth for nature" displays little curiosity about the mechanisms by which human presence impacts biodiversity. Otherwise intelligent people, perhaps caught up in the "bargaining" phase of climate grief, seem taken in by the idea that the human species gives off a magical anti-biodiversity force field, as if feeling guiltier will fix the problems.

(Never mind that lands managed by indigenous folk actually have MORE biodiversity...almost like our species' relationship to the planet isn't inherently exploitative, but rather, the capitalist and colonialist powers destroying everything.......)

Let's go back to the image of the new housing development. This image could be just about anywhere in the USA, because the American suburban home is made for universal interchangeability, where each little house and yard is static and replaceable with any other.

Others have written about the generic-ification of the interiors of homes, how houses are decorated with the most soul-killing, colorless furnishings to make them into Products more effectively. (I think @mcmansionhell wrote about it.)

This, likewise, is the Earth turned into a Product—razed down into something with no pre-existing context, history, or responsibility. Identical parcels of land, identical houses, where once there was a unique and diverse distribution of life. The American lawn, the American garden, the industry that promotes these aesthetics, is the environmental version of that ghastly, ugly "minimalism" infecting the interiors of homes.

The extremely neat, sparse, manicured look that is so totally inescapable in American yards originated from the estates of European aristocracy, which displayed the owner's wealth by flaunting an abundance of land that was both heavily managed and useless. People defend the lawn on the basis that grass tolerates being walked upon and is good for children to play, but to say this is *the* purpose of a lawn is bullshit—children are far more interested in trees, creeks, sticks, weeds, flowers, and mud than Grass Surface, many people with lawns do not have children, and most people spend more time mowing their lawn than they do doing literally anything else outside. How often do you see Americans outside in their yards doing anything except mowing?

What is there to do, anyway? Why would you want to go outside with nothing but the sun beating down on you and the noise of your neighbors' lawn mowers? American culture tries to make mowing "manly" and emphasizes that it is somehow fulfilling in of itself. Mowing the lawn is something Men enjoy doing—almost a sort of leisure activity.

I don't have something against wanting a usable outdoor area that is good for outdoor activities, I do, however, have something against the idea that a lawn is good for outdoor activities. Parents have been bitching for decades about how impossible it is to drag kids outdoors, and there have been a million PSAs about how children need to be outside playing instead of spending their lives on video games. Meanwhile, at the place I work, every kid is ECSTATIC and vibrating with enthusiasm to be in the woods surrounded by trees, sticks, leaves, and mud.

The literal, straightforward historical answer to the lawn is that the American lawn exists to get Americans to spend money on chemicals. The modern lawn ideal was invented to sell a surplus of fertilizer created after WW2 chemical plants that had been used to make explosives were repurposed to produce fertilizer. Now you know! The more analytical, sociological answer is that the purpose of the lawn is to distance you from the lower class. A less strictly maintained space lowers property values, it looks shabby and unkempt, it reflects badly on the neighborhood, it makes you look like a "redneck." And so on. The largest, most lavish McMansions in my area all have the emptiest, most desolate yards, and the lush gardens all belong to tiny, run-down houses.

But the answer that really cuts to the core of it, I think, is that lawns are a technology for making land into a Product for consumers. (This coexists with the above answers.) Turfgrass is a perfectly generic blank slate onto which anything can be projected. It is emptiness. It is stasis.

I worry about the flattening of our imaginations. Illustrations in books generally cover the ground outdoors in a uniform layer of green, sometimes with strokes suggesting individual blades of grass if they want to get fancy. Video games do this. Animated shows and movies do this.

Short, carpet-like turfgrass as the Universal Outdoor Surface is so ubiquitous and intuitive that any alternative is bizarre, socially unacceptable, and for many, completely unimaginable. When I am a passenger in a car, what horrifies me the most to see out the window is not only the turfgrass lawns of individuals, but rather, the turfgrass Surface that the entire inhabited landscape has been rendered into—vacant stretches of land surrounding businesses and churches, separating parking lots, bordering Wal-Marts, apartment complexes, and roadsides.

These spaces are not used, they are almost never walked upon. They do nothing. They are maintained, ceaselessly, by gas-powered machines that are far, far more carbon-emitting than cars per hour of use, emitting in one hour the same amount of pollution as a 500-mile drive. It is an endless effort to keep the land in the same state, never mind that it's a shitty, useless state.

Nature is dynamic. Biodiversity is dynamic. From a business point of view, the lawn care industry has found a brilliant scheme to milk limitless money from people, since trying to put a stop to the dynamism and constant change of nature is a Sisyphean situation, and nature responds with increasingly aggressive and rapid change as disturbance gets more intense.

On r/lawncare, a man posted despairingly that he had spent over $1500 tearing out every inch of sod in his yard, only for the exact same weeds to return. That subreddit strikes horror in my heart that I cannot describe, and the more I learn about ecology, the more terrible it gets. It was common practice for people in r/lawncare to advise others to soak their entire yard in Roundup to kill all plant life and start over from a "blank slate."

Before giving up, I tried to explain over and over that it was 100% impossible to get a "blank slate." Weeds typically spread by wind and their seeds can persist for DECADES in the soil seed bank, waiting for a disastrous event to trigger them to sprout. They will always come back. It's their job.

It was impossible for those guys to understand that they were inherently not just constructing a lawn from scratch, and were contending with another power or entity (Nature) with its own interests.

The logic of the lawn also extends into our gardens. We are encouraged to see the dynamism of nature as something that acts against our interests (and thus requires Buy Product) so much, that we think any unexpected change in our yard is bad. People are sometimes baffled when I see a random plant popping up among my flowers as potentially a good thing.

"That's a weed!" Maybe! Nonetheless, it has a purpose. I don't know who this stranger is, so I would be a fool to kill it!

A good caretaker knows that the place they care for will change on its own, and that this is GOOD and brings blessings or at least messages. I didn't have to buy goldenrod plants—they came by themselves! Several of our trees arrived on their own. The logic that sees all "weeds" as an enemy to be destroyed without even identifying ignores the wisdom of nature's processes.

The other day at work, the ecologist took me to see pink lady's slipper orchids. The forest there was razed and logged about a hundred years ago, and it got into my head to ask how the orchids returned. He only shrugged. "Who knows?"

Garden centers put plants out for sale when they are blooming. People buy trees from Fast Growing Trees dot com. The quick, final results that are standard with Buy Product, which are so completely opposite the constant slow chaos of nature, have become so standard in the gardening world that the hideous black mulch sold at garden centers is severed from the very purpose of mulch, and instead serves to visually emphasize small, lonely plants against its dark background. (For the record, once your plants mature, you should not be able to SEE the mulch.)

Landscapers regularly place shrubs, bushes, trees and flowers in places where they have no room to reach maturity. It's standard—landscapers seem to plan with the expectation that everything will be ripped out within 5-10 years. The average person has no clue how big trees and bushes get because their entire surroundings, which are made of living things (which do in fact feel and communicate) are treated as disposable.

Because in ten years, this building won't be an orthodontists' office, in ten years, this old lady will be dead, in ten years, the kids will have grown, and capitalism is incapable of preparing for a future, only for the next buyer.

The logic of the lawn is that gardens and ecosystems that take time to build are not to be valued, because a lush, biodiverse garden is not easily sold, easily bought, easily maintained, easily owned, or easily treated with indifference. An ecosystem requires wisdom from the caretaker. That runs contrary to the Consumer identity.

And it's this disposable-ness, this indifference, that I am ultimately so strongly against, not grass, or low turf that you can step on.

What if we saw buying land as implying a responsibility to be its caretaker? To respect the inhabitants, whether or not we are personally pleased by them or think they look pretty? What creature could deserve to be killed just because it didn't make a person happy?

But the Consumer identity gives you something else...a sense of entitlement. "This is MY yard, and that possum doesn't get to live there." "This is MY yard, and I don't want bugs in it." "This is MY yard, and I can kill the spiders if I want to."

Meanwhile there is no responsibility to build the soil up for the next gardener. No responsibility to plant oaks that will grow mighty and life-giving. No responsibility to plant fruit-producing trees, brambles, and bushes. None of these things, any of which could have fulfilled a responsibility to the future. Rather, just to do whatever you damn well please, and leave those that come after with depleted, compacted soil and the aftermath of years of constant damage. It took my Meadow ten years to recover from being the garden patch of the guy that lived here before us. Who knows what he did to it.

The loss of topsoil in all our farmland is a bigger example, and explains how this is directly connected to colonialism. The Dust Bowl, the unsustainable farming practices that followed, the disappearance of the lush fertile prairie topsoil because of greed and colonizer mindset, and simple refusal to learn from what could be observed in nature. The colonizing peoples envisioned the continent as an "Empty" place, a Blank Slate that could be used and exploited however.

THAT is what's killing the planet, this idea that the planet is to be used and abused and bought and sold, that the power given by wealth gives you entitlement to do whatever you want. That "Land" is just another Product, and our strategies for taking care of Earth should be whatever causes the most Buy Product.

It's like I always write..."You are not a consumer! You are a caretaker!"

#plants #native plants #no lawns #kill your lawn #anti lawn #consumerism #capitalism #colonialism #genocide tw

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superectojazzmage · 8 months

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My Baldur’s Gate 3 hot take is that debates about whether or not Emperor Balduran is trustworthy or or not are a waste of time because a great deal of the point of the character — narratively and gameplay-wise — is that he’s an extension of you. YOU interpret and decide on his personality, nature, and choices the same way you do with your Tav.

If you want him to genuinely be the flawed and odd-thinking but ultimately noble and heroic “token good Mind Flayer” that he presents himself as, then he will be like that simply because you treat him as being such. He’ll be trustworthy and dependable, totally truthful about only wanting what’s best for Baldur’s Gate and about wanting to free the Illithids from Elder Brain control and make ceremorphosis a consensual choice, while also being open to compromise in the name of forging bonds. He’ll be the unlikely hero who, with you by his side, uses the Stones to destroy the Absolute and save his beloved city.

If you want him to be and treat him like a backstabbing, manipulative liar and potentially dangerous monster who is at best disconnected from basic reality, at worst a murderous narcissist trying to bend you to his will, then he’ll act like it. His interactions with be tense, snappish, and uncomfortable. He’ll threaten you, make unreasonable demands, never compromise, and try to assert control over the party while making clear that your alliance is one of convenience and necessity. And ultimately, he’ll either betray you and defect to the Absolute’s side because he can’t control you or, at your urging, hijack things and use the Absolute to take over the world.

His past is designed to be interpreted in massively different manners depending on what kind of person you want him to be. He killed Ansur either out of justified self defense because Ansur wouldn’t admit that Balduran was still himself beneath the changed form, or because Ansur was trying to stop his evil plans. He dominated Stelmane’s mind because she was a bad person and he wanted to turn the Knights of the Shield into something good, or because he’s an evil manipulator who dominates those he can’t charm. He withheld information from you because he was being cautious and wasn’t sure if you were going to be an ally (like your party members), or because he was manipulating you by making himself seem more sympathetic. He never freed Orpheus and doesn’t want to free him because as an Illithid he rightfully fears a Githyanki Prince and that freeing Orpheus will allow the Netherbrain to control him again, or because he’s an malevolent bastard who knows that Orpheus would ruin his plans. It’s up to you to decide.

He can change tune on a dime, make self-contradictory choices and statements, abruptly do things just because of something you decided to say because you wanted to see what would happen. Just like you do as a player, because he’s as much your PC as Tav. It’s why you get to customize the form he appears in your dreams with. The Emperor is good or evil or whatever depending on what you WANT or MAKE him to be.

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misojunnie · 3 months

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DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hi y’all! I got this request a long time ago and only recently got to it, so I hope y’all like! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist! pls enjoy <3

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin open!

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who our company is.”

˗ˋ☆ˊ˗

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yoru-no-seiiki · 10 months

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YANDERE! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST x VILLAIN! READER x YANDERE! SERVANT

tw/cw: everyone’s gender is up to interpretation (if there are any discrepancies in the pronouns let me know). murder. this happens around the middle of the first part not after it, just in a different perspective.

[ first part ]

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!

It was bit of an understatement to call Abbadon your servant. They were your most loyal aide. Known as the harbinger of death to those that defied your rule. The Abyssal Advisor. It was through their work that you were able to grab ahold of your destiny.

They tortured, maimed and murdered for you. Countless of lives were destroyed by their hands. People with names, families, dreams — all gone because they simply failed to meet your expectations. They have conquered massive plots of lands and achieved many things that will never be put under their own name, but yours. They were with you every, single step of the way.

But you never gave them more than an ounce of your attention.

Many thought you were bloodthirsty, feral and an absolute nightmare. But to Abbadon you were anything but. You were simply a victim to the times. A soul bound for hell. Your ambitions were righteous in a way, but in execution not.

They did not care about that at all.

It was the way you’d annoyingly fixate on the person meant to kill you.

Did you not trust them?

Sure, every person that attempted to battle fate’s design failed abysmally but they were different. From the very beginning Abbadon was born, molded, put through fire and oil to be your perfect right hand man. Every order you’ve given was executed perfectly. Every task they have completed exceeded your expectations with its results.

So why wouldn’t you let them take care of Cassiel?

That annoying brat never seemed to die. Abaddon only saw them as a cockroach at most. A kid who had no right to share the luxuries you were afforded. Yet, they were never allowed to harm your sibling in any way.

And so they could only shove more tasks for you to do, distract you from what they saw as increasing affections towards your sibling and force you to leave Cassiel be.

But when they finally got the chance to kill the roach, you stood between them.

“Abbadon. Stand down.” You warned. They had flooded you with paperwork that day. Too much paperwork. You should have known it was due to ulterior motives. Trust slowly become something you could never afford.

“But—“ They protested. They were an inch away from beheading their target — Cassiel, who was now on their knees right behind you. They did not mind the dagger you had inches within their shoulder blade. But your eyes, Abbadon knew that look. It was the look of utter disappointment. They could not bear to see it any longer. “Understood.”

You sighed as your loyal servant tried their best to hide their anger, yet storming off the moment you dismissed them.

You knew how much that devil loathed failure above all else and who were you to make them go through that?

Cassiel sighed, maybe even moaned, in awe and ecstasy as they witnessed you defending them for once and asserting your dominance to your subordinate.

Oh, how they wished they were Abbadon.

taglist: @the-dumber-scaramouche @justkouisenough @rxflen

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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t-thigh riding with König when he tells his gf while she's riding that he's snapped grown men's backs across them and he's like "wow you're really depraved huh?" AND JUST, LIKE DEGRADING DOM KÖNIG I'M GOING FUCKIN NUTS FERAL FROTHING AT THE MOUTH ILY ILY ILY

Thigh Riding w/ König

Warnings: 18+, Grinding, Thigh Riding, Breath Play, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You', Violent Imagery, Mentions of Injury, Dominant König, Submissive Reader, etc.

König bounced you on his thigh, grinding against you at a Nirvanan angle, making your eyes clasp shut and your mouth hang open. His eyes held neither mercy, nor remorse as he berated you, your neck a small bird in his hand.

"You know, I've killed men twice your size with these hands--" he punctuated his point with a harsh squeeze to your throat, making you cower, shudder. "--Broken their backs over the very thigh you're fucking yourself on."

The image - reality - of your boyfriend in his military wear - the skin of a predator - made you whine; the fact that he could so easily kill you - taint your life with the death that dripped from his occupation - and yet he didn't, made your heart bloom with warmth. For one reason, he protected you from it all, from himself. Even now, he was restraining the urge to destroy you - to bend you over and blow your back out, to watch you tremble beneath his shadow as many had before (albeit under different circumstances).

At your mewls, your growing wetness coating his thigh, his head tilted. "You really are depraved, you know that?" His voice was unaffected by the strenuousness of having your weight on his thigh, bobbing you up and down as if you were a toy. His toy.

He jutted his leg up, disrupting the rhythm he'd allowed you to settle into. He let you breathe, loosening his fingers around your throat, yet you remained in his grip, fatigued from what one could consider no less than abuse.

From beneath lidded eyes, you looked at him; for what, you couldn't tell. But he could.

Past the pleading and desire for release, he saw what you really wanted. Or, rather, his own needs reflected back at him. He smiled, genuine and soft. And it shot electric anticipation through you.

"How can I reward such a...delinquentile pet who is unfazed by death?" he said, taking his hand from around your throat and tangling it in your hair, where his grip stiffened, hardened. Ice. Your heart stammered.

"I suppose I must discipline you," he said. "For I don't think you quite understand the position you're in." He yanked you back by your hair, making you cry out. Your hands shot up to grasp his, to pull him off. Futile.

"After all--" his voice was low as secrecy as he leaned in, his words hot against your skin, "--It is my specialty."

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig headcanons #konig call of duty #konig smut #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig x yn #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 fanfic #mw2 fanfic #mw2 smut #mw2 headcanons #mw2 #mw2 x you #König #könig x reader

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seattlesellie · 1 year

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cant stop thinking about ellie guiding ur hand, teaching you how to touch her while still being so dominant but needing her release so so so bad :(

your hand is trembling, because youre so terrified you might do something wrong, might not satisfy her the same way she does to you, but shes so gentle about it at first, taking your hand and just placing it on her weeping cunt “gonna teach you, pretty girl” she coos, and as soon as you make contact with her pussy, as soon as your hand meets her core she just whimpers your name so softly and youre so shocked, since ellie usually tries to restrain herself when it comes to making noises, because she always wants to hear you, but when she sees your delicate little hand on the place she needs it the most shes gone. she puts her hand on your wrist and tells you “small circles, yeah? mmph- just like i do” so with the help of her skilled, veiny hand she slowly moves your wrist to make little circles on her puffy clit and now shes just huffing little muffled breaths, looking at your doe eyed expression because you look so focused, so eager to please her and shes thought about it for so long, and she wants you to look, to see what youre doing :( so she says “look at the mess you made, look at what you do to me” while grabbing your cheeks together and forcing you to make eye contact with her cunt. her hand on your wrist moves faster n faster, completely controlled by ellie, while youre looking at her cunt twitching with such pleasure youre biting your lip so hard it almost bleeds, all dazed, still fucked out from 10 minutes ago when she forced your legs to a split as she destroyed your pussy with her tongue. n shes so so close because your little whimpers are killing her so she wraps her hand around your throat and cums while praising u for being her good girl, making her cum so good, being so so perfect for her and then forces you to lick her juices off your hand <333

i need to make her cum so bad i need to be her good girl u dont even understand

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader

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coriannawrites · 4 months

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Warnings: Depictions of violence, cannibalism, demons being demons

Which demon would let you be evil?

It was bound to happen. Threats about getting your heart ripped out thrown around left and right have made you a bit… prone to violence.

You just itch to call on your demon to eviscerate the incubus that couldn’t take no for an answer.

You’re prone to calling your demon to rid the area of creatures you don’t like.

To cut down the forest housing biologically necessary creatures that stung you once.

The answer is all of them. They love you— your newfound twisted nature is just a bonus.

And it’s not really, really twisted. It’s the Devildom, evil is the norm.

Sure does look good on you.

You’re at your most beautiful when you don’t see the need to call your demon to deal with a meddling imp. They aren’t worthy to be cursed by the presence of your pact demons, let alone Lucifer. No. You’ll kill them yourself.

Mammon knows Lucifer is wrong. You’re the sexiest when you steal for the fun of it. That succubus’s prized anklet? You wanted it so bad, you had no problem whistling for Mammon to drown her in the toilet while you pilfered her stuff. Mammon asked if you could make out after.

You’re cute when someone has something you want. Not in that disgusting greedy, sticky-fingers way, no— Levi knows you’re downright adorable when your eyes crinkle in distaste at an imp coming first. You worked so hard on that project. How could you let that lesser demon walk all over you, gloat all over you? One look towards Levi has him quivering, rushing to destroy the demon that’s worked you into an envious frenzy.

Envious frenzies are nothing compared to how stunning you are when you’re worked into a rage. Satan was peacefully reading, plotting to curse another one of Lucifer’s ties when you bathed in. He’s awestruck. The rage is oozing out of you, and when you grab him by the tie and tell him to erase the demon that humiliated you today, he’s more than happy to.

Bloodlust is sexy. Fullstop. Shaking, twisting, grinding at the Fall and Asmodeus wants to put his hands all over you. Please, let him. You tut, gently turning his face towards the succubus that had tried seducing him earlier. Wouldn’t it be so cute if she wasn’t bothering him anymore? You know you would both look good in blood red. Asmo loved your confidence.

Hunger kills. There’s a long line to Madam Screams, you’re starting to tap your foot impatiently. Beelzebub’s stomach growls. That sets you off, what sort of pact master would let your sweet little demon go hungry? You’re attractive as you step aside and tell Beel to clear the path. You’re to die for when you laugh and laugh that the long line is gone, ignoring the half-eaten hand sticking out of Beel’s mouth.

You’re cute asleep. Vulnerable, almost angelic. Belphegor knows your the furthest thing from angelic when you’re rudely woken up, interrupted from your dreams of world domination. Stupid lesser demon for barging in to your classroom. Didn’t she know you’d be in here, huh? She didn’t, and you knew that. Here’s what Belphie finds ridiculously attractive and annoying— you yawn and wave at him to do your bidding, ridding of the pest. He complains and grumbles about his own sleep, but he relishes it all the same.

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