#Concert Conquest

[velvetseahorse]

Buffy Sainte-Marie

Shatabhisha ☉

Jyeshtha ☽ Atmakaraka

Mula ↑

Bharani ♃ lagnesh

Hasta ☊ Uttara Bhadrapada ☋

Buffy Sainte-Marie is an American singer-songwriter, musician, and social activist known for her work addressing love, war, religion, and Indigenous issues in the U.S. and Canada. A self-taught pianist and guitarist, she studied teaching and Asian philosophy at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, graduating as a top student. In the early 1960s, she toured extensively, performing at folk festivals, concert halls, and First Nations communities. She was active in Toronto’s Yorkville district and New York’s Greenwich Village, where she crossed paths with artists like Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, and Joni Mitchell (whom she introduced to manager Elliot Roberts). Her experiences deeply influenced her music. After battling codeine addiction, she wrote “Cod’ine,” which was later covered by multiple artists. Witnessing wounded Vietnam War soldiers while the U.S. government denied involvement led her to write the protest song “Universal Soldier,” which became a folk anthem.

Much of Sainte-Marie’s work is political, and she has faced personal struggles, including addiction. In recent years, controversy has arisen over her Indigenous identity, with questions about her ancestry remaining unresolved. In 2023, she acknowledged a lack of documentation, stating she was told she was adopted and Indigenous but does not know her true origins.

Claire Nakti mentioned in her Jyestha physiognomy article that “Indra (often compared to the Greek god Zeus) is associated with the eagle, known as the “king of the skies” and a symbol of victory and conquest. Both Indra and Zeus have myths in which they transform into eagles.” Here, Buffy is pictured with eagles.

[preheville]

hi everyone and welcome to installment #3 of GOOD VIDEOS FROM ME TO U where i give you good videos i've watched recently and you maybe rec me some back? as always my favs are in blue!

The Cat Piano

Short Film for LEFFEST (2018), David Lynch

Longlegs & QAnon | Legacy of the Satanic Panic

On the Heights of Despair

Self-Compassion: An Antidote to Shame

How to recover from depression

I Betrayed My True Self In A Way That Hurt Me So Bad I Could Not Forgive Myself For Twenty-Two Years

THE SLAY TO END ALL SLAYS (The Devil Wears Prada)

My favourite mafia movie

Dock Boggs: Country Blues (1966)

The Enduring Mystery Of Room 1046

STENDEC - The World’s Most Mysterious Morse Code

Doechii: Tiny Desk Concert

Fear of Dark

Doggerland: Europe’s Atlantis

The Enduring Mystery of Jack the Ripper

The Druids

When Lighthouse Keepers Disappear…

The History of MKUltra

King Arthur: What Everybody Gets Wrong

Life and Debt <- essential viewing EDIT: the doc got taken off youtube but i highly recommend it it's definitely worth tracking down

postcards from san francisco

farallon islands refuge

keeper's log

How many died in the Mongol conquests?

Violence in Nature

How Three Criminals Escaped Alcatraz, and were Never Caught.

Matilda Djerf, Djerf Avenue, & the false promise of influencer brands

The Age of VAMPIRES

How to Eat a Human Being

Pursuit

The time I caught a ghost

I WANNA EAT YOUR GUTS - The Punkcracker (Original Short)

It's Bigger than Diddy

I'M SICK!

MYLAR

The Mystery Of The Toynbee Tiles

Cannibalism in Early Modern English Drama: a Brief Overview

Bro, Michelangelo Was Actually Insane

The Unthinkable

Dizzy Gillespie - A Night In Tunisia Live 81

Pretty Pretty Please I Don’t Want to be a Magical Girl

GIRASOL

Yoko and The Beatles

ace attorney breakdowns

The Horn of Geddon

angels

[southernprideyall2]

“After the South had been conquered by war and humiliated and impoverished by peace, there appeared still to remain something which made the South different--something intangible, incomprehensible, in the realm of the spirit. That too must be invaded and destroyed; so there commenced a second war of conquest, the conquest of the Southern mind, calculated to remake every Southern opinion, to impose the Northern way of life and thought upon the South, write "error" across the pages of Southern history which were out of keeping with the Northern legend, and set the rising and unborn generations upon stools of everlasting repentance."

-Frank Lawrence Owsley (one of the Twelve Southern Agrarians, 1890-1956, Alabamian) in his essay, ‘The Irrepressible Conflict’ in ‘I'll Take My Stand,’ published originally in 1930.

To this day, Yankees still wish to make us into their image. After ruining their states, Carpetbaggers have come south in droves to do the same here.

Yankees’ war upon our minds and spirits has accelerated in recent times in concert with the increased proliferation of Marxism within their ranks.

Marxists wish to finish the destruction of the country of our founders. Lincoln started that destruction by shredding the constitution, and killing the actual men who resisted his tyranny. Modern Lincoln worshipers wish to finish what he began by destroying memorials and homages to those men, and keeping their descendants in a perpetual state of repentance and serfdom. Of course, it’s only Southerners that must be in such a state.

Southerners stubbornly adhere to conservative ideals such a God, family, guns and country. We also believe in parental rights, prayer in schools, property rights, small government, and the importance of honoring our past. The modern Marxist Yankee and his complacent scalawag hate all these things, and as such, have made us their number one target.

Marxism 101 instructs its followers to separate a people from it past in order to gain control over them. That is the reason for the current cultural genocide. And it is why we must continue to honor our past. Our descendants resisted an invasion by the federal government like most people would, to defend their homes, families, and states. 80% of Southern families, 94% Southern individuals did not own slaves, and five out of eleven Southern states did not mention slavery in their secession declarations. Most Southerners did not resist said invasion over slavery, but for the aforementioned reasons.

Resist Marxism. Resist mental reconstruction. Fly our flag. Honor our ancestors. Counter yankee education with Southern history. Keep God, guns and family over government. Keep fighting as long as they keep shooting. Nothing pisses off a Marxist and or a Yankee more.

[mariacallous]

The collapse of the Assad regime in Syria took the whole world by surprise, but Vladimir Putin’s propaganda machine was among the first to react. After nine years of relentlessly demonizing all anti-Assad forces as “terrorists,” Kremlin TV suddenly began describing them in far more respectful tones as “armed opposition groups.” Meanwhile, Moscow officials were also soon suggesting that the newly ascendant rebels were not in fact dangerous religious radicals, but perfectly respectable potential partners who Russia could do business with.

This shameless shift in the Kremlin narrative is hardly surprising. After all, Putin is desperate to negotiate a deal with Syria’s new rulers that will allow him to retain control over naval and air bases that are vital for Russian interests throughout Africa and the Middle East. Nevertheless, the significance of Russia’s dramatic change of tune cannot be overstated.

Russia’s Syrian intervention was the country’s first major military operation beyond the boundaries of the former USSR since the collapse of the Soviet Union. It did not come cheaply, with Putin investing tens of billions of dollars on a mixed force of military advisers, mercenary units, naval assets, and air power tasked with propping up the Syrian regime. For a long period, the gamble appeared to have paid off handsomely. Putin was widely recognized as the savior of Bashar Assad, and was able to use this newfound prestige to project Russian influence throughout the wider region.

Russia’s Syrian exploits were afforded blanket coverage throughout the country’s carefully curated information space. The Kremlin media spent much of the past decade trumpeting the war in Syria as a symbol of Russia’s return to Great Power status, with Moscow pundits routinely positioning the country’s military campaign as a righteous crusade against Western intrigues and Islamist forces of darkness. There have been endless documentaries, propaganda tours, and even a classical concert amid the rubble of a country devastated by Russian aerial bombardment. All this is now seemingly forgotten as the Kremlin seeks to ingratiate itself with the new powers that be in Damascus.

Putin’s readiness to surrender his entire propaganda position in Syria and quietly accept new military realities should now help the West to overcome its crippling fear of Russian escalation in Ukraine. Ever since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine began almost three years ago, the Western response has been hampered by concerns that support for Ukraine could provoke Russia into escalating its aggression and lead to a broadening of the conflict. Putin has skillfully exploited these fears, using a combination of nuclear threats and warnings of Russian red lines to limit the delivery of Western military aid to Kyiv and impose absurd restrictions on Ukraine’s ability to defend itself.

This excessive Western caution has infuriated many in Kyiv, not least because Ukraine has repeatedly exposed Russia’s threats as empty. When Putin threatened to defend his Ukrainian conquests with nuclear weapons in September 2022 and declared “I’m not bluffing,” Ukraine promptly called his bluff and liberated the strategically vital southern Ukrainian city of Kherson. Instead of reaching for his nuclear briefcase, Putin simply ordered his defeated troops to retreat across the Dnipro River. Likewise, when Ukraine disregarded Kremlin bluster and proceeded to sink or damage around one-third of the entire Russian Black Sea Fleet, Putin did not go nuclear. On the contrary, he instructed his remaining warships to withdraw from Russian-occupied Crimea to the relative safety of Russian ports.

The biggest blow to the myth of inevitable Russian escalation came in summer 2024, when Ukraine crossed the reddest of all Russian red lines by invading Russia itself. As Ukrainian troops flooded across the border and began occupying swathes of Russia’s Kursk Oblast, Putin’s response was telling. He made no attempt to rally his compatriots against the foreign invader or warn of impending nuclear war. Quite the opposite, in fact. Rather than raising the stakes, Putin consciously chose to downplay the entire Ukrainian offensive, referring to it as a mere “provocation.”

Putin’s underwhelming response to the fall of his Syrian ally Bashar Assad serves as a timely reminder that Western fears of Russian escalation are wildly exaggerated. In reality, whenever Putin finds himself confronted by a resolute opponent, he is inclined to retreat. Like all bullies, he seeks to overwhelm his victims with intimidation. However, as we have seen repeatedly in Ukraine, his threats are almost always hollow.

This is good news for advocates of a “peace through strength” strategy, including those within the incoming Trump administration. Putin’s ability to intimidate the West has been his greatest success of the entire war in Ukraine, but it should now be abundantly clear that Russia’s saber-rattling is built on bluff.

The Kremlin’s inability to rescue its Syrian ally has revealed the humble reality behind Putin’s Great Power posturing. The Russian military is now obviously overextended by the ongoing invasion of Ukraine, while Putin is in a far weaker position than he would like us to believe. Crucially, he is also more than capable of completely rejecting his own propaganda and rewriting history when necessary. If confronted with the prospect of military defeat in Ukraine, there is every reason to believe he will retreat again, while ordering his media machine to save his blushes.

[natequarter]

BRAXIATEL: I hear nothing other than an intelligent, well-connected student wasting her time, and mine, trying to fight the inescapable. Come on, let’s head back. I’ll tell whichever dreary Cardinal that is no-doubt waiting for us that I took you on a… field trip, and we got lost.

ROMANA I: Why?

BRAXIATEL: Why what?

ROMANA I: Why get yourself into trouble on my behalf?

BRAXIATEL: Because you remind me of... someone I used to know. Hotheaded, arrogant, self-assured… They used to call me the Icicle during my terrible time here. What do they call you?

ROMANA I: The Ice Maiden.

BRAXIATEL: [Chuckles] See? Things never change.

***

A renegade and exile from the Houses in the Pre-War era, he was part of the first generation of the Homeworld to produce renegades: indeed, he may have been spawned by the same flaws in the Houses’ breeding-engines which produced was part of the first generation of even more legendary transgressions like the Imperator Presidency and the Grandfather of House Paradox. But while the Imperator led a crusade in the name of military conquest, and the Grandfather seemed to have a rather more philosophical agenda for subverting the ruling Houses’ authority, the young War King was a bored, amoral outlaw, dedicated to his own desires above all else, meddling in the affairs of the lesser species for no other reasons than power, personal gratification and perhaps even casual amusement.

[...]

He was notorious for hiring, manipulating and seducing a variety of lesser species, many of them mercenary or megalomaniac in nature, and it’s possible that it was through his association with them that he became aware of the imminent War… the first step in his gradual (and quite legal) rise to power.

***

ROMANA: I am Romanadvoratrelundar, mortal heir to the House of Heartshaven, inheritor of the House of Dvora, and custodian of the House of Everston, and I command—!

***

In the brief period before a species loses its interest in its evolutionary surroundings, it’s relatively common for societies to be categorised as tribal, and for the ruling body to be seen as either an alpha-male among primates or as a dominant predator among lesser animals. While for the Great Houses such ideas have mostly been forgotten, a number still cling, oddly, to House Dvora: the House of Devouring Hounds.

This isn’t a metaphor for a House at the top of the food chain, a rare, vicious, rampaging beast. It’s an emblem of controlled, concerted, voracious power. Neither gauche nor hide-bound, the members of House Dvora look out across the landscape of the Homeworld from the comfortable position of an established pack predator. They are not careless. They are sombre, they are sane, they are pre-eminently practical. What they grip, they hold. When not deployed in the field their personas are icy, untouchable and ironic, but they can when necessary adopt any passion.

It’s not surprising, then, that it may be the House which exercises the greatest real power.

***

ROMANA: I am aware that my policies have not been entirely favourable with you all, but Gallifrey must not fall back on itself and become insular. We have the greatest knowledge of time in this part of the galaxy, and we must not be seen to create a monopoly. That only isolates us from those cultures who are capable of using time responsibly. So, I will not step down as President, despite these deaths, despite the opposition to my ideologies, because that is a regressive step for Gallifrey. We cannot linger in our past or, regardless of how much we know, time will overtake us. [...] I have thought about this long and hard, and to me, it seems the only way forward. As is my right, as is stated as ancient edict in the Book of the Old Time, I, Romanadvoratrelundar, claim the title of Imperiatrix of Gallifrey and declare my rule as such to begin immediately.

DARKEL: [Laughing] You cannot claim yourself Imperiatrix. It is a legend from the Old Time, nothing more. There’s no legality upheld in that title! Will you, the High Council of Gallifrey, ratify this? The ramblings of a woman mad for power? Her very bloodline desires war!

***

The Great Houses have, according to their own doctrine, observed and maintained the meta-structure of history for ten million years: a number so round that many feel it must have been picked by the Houses out of thin air, a purely arbitrary figure chosen just to suggest “a very long time”. True or not, it’s unquestionable that for aeons before the War the Houses themselves existed in a state of almost total stasis. There was no natural reproduction on the Homeworld; no death, other than the slowest, greyest and least spectacular kind; no argument, no injustice, no progress and very little actual culture. And yet around a millennium before the War began, tiny imperfections began to appear in the great status quo, defects in Homeworld society which would eventually culminate in the War itself. How did this happen?

[...]

Things took a startling turn for the worse around three hundred years later, during the cataclysmic Imperator Presidency, the first shockingly direct contact with the outside universe in living memory. House Dvora was a House of respect, its bloodline one of the cornerstones of the ruling six, and yet this seemingly reasonable bloodline had produced Imperator: the brutal, mono-maniacal God-Emperor who tore through the polite barriers between the Homeworld and the rest of history to lead a realpolitik crusade into the outside universe. He demanded involvement in the affairs of the lesser species; he demanded a pre-emptive re-forming of the Spiral Politic; he demanded that the Protocols should be ripped from the Homeworld, and that history should be adapted to suit the Houses’ own needs, particularly (it was implied) the needs of House Dvora. He actively recruited from the lesser species, not actually welcoming them into his bloodline but using them as extensions of his will, playing on their expectations that the rulers of the Houses would be inscrutable, unstoppable Gods. That he developed a cult of personality around himself wasn’t as shocking as the fact that he had such a personality.

***

WYNTER: That cannot happen. Our job goes back aeons. To change the role, to dispense with it, would take change in the law.

NARVIN: Of course. And with Braxiatel, Lebine, and the rest of the Council in her pocket, getting laws changed would be... oh, about as difficult as changing the oldest law about allowing aliens into the Academy. Think on that, Wynter.

[genderlessghoul]

HI. IT'S ME AGAIN. YA BITCH. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. OH YEAH WE'RE TALKING ABOUT GHOST COSTUMES.

Well... One Ghost costume in particular. Because I've talked at great lengths about how the costumes are made and what they're made out of but I haven't talked much, if at all, about the inspiration behind them. So today we're gonna take a look at Papa's Kaiserion costume.

Impera, Ghost's fifth studio album, builds itself on the themes of the rise and fall of empires. Kaiserion, the first song of the album with lyrics, leans heavily and explicitly on those themes. It makes sense, as being also the first song played live during this era, that Papa's outfit would reflect that empirical meaning.

Copia has always been so interesting to me in terms of stage costumes as he never really tried to fit into the role carved by his predecessors. The band's image, before Terzo was relieved of his Papal duties (and his head), relied on Satanism and depicting themselves as an opposite for Christianity. Taking inspiration into religious costumes and giving them a stylish twist à la Satan. Terzo started this trend of diverging from this image but he only had one stage outfit that wasn't his robes. Copia has had several from the very start.

This one costume is no exception. You will find Satanic and occultist symbols in the embroidery on his vest but it's not trying to be a religious garment in any way, shape or form. It rather reminds me of French military uniforms from the late 1700s to the late 1800s.

Obviously it's not a perfect replica of any historical uniform but I still find the comparison fascinating and I have a deep appreciation for the imagery it creates. It leads us straight into the atmosphere created by the song and it infers on Copia a sense of authority fitted for the meaning of the album. For the span of those 5 minutes of the concert, he's not just a spiritual leader, he's a ruler commanding an army.

That sentiment is aided by one of my favourite details. Epaulettes were often used to mark stature on uniforms. Not only if you had them but what they looked like. You didn't think I was gonna make a whole post about Papa and not mention the ghouls once, were you?

Not only is the overall construction of Papa's jacket made to be more imposing than the ghouls, his golden epaulettes imply a greater status, a higher rank.

I would also like to point out the state of the jacket. Which of course, matches the decrepitude of the pants he wears for the entire concert. To me, it implies a meaning hidden in the concept of the album itself. The military inspired jacket paints him as a commander ready for conquest, ready to go to war for him Empire. To me, all that intentional distressing says "this is what it'll look like once we fall, this is what it'll look like when the Empire fails."

All of this really makes me question the fate awaiting Copia now that this era is over. "The empire has been built." it feels like half of the prophecy fulfilled. We're yet to see it fall, but the fall was promised.

Aight didn't mean to get all ominous on ya at the end but oh well 😅😅😅 that's all for me today! Thank you and good night!

[mywritingonlyfans]

054: "May I have this dance, wife?"

Oh, since I read your recent prompt, I can't stop smiling as a fool, that was extremely cozy, sweet and soft. Love what you're doing sooo much 🥺

And this one got me hooked. Even though it was in the wedding section, in my mind it's like you and Alex are already married and having a candlelit dinner in your big apartment in Paris (or whatever city it could be) with a stunning view, that you recently move to. The room has high ceilings and big windows, music is playing from the vinyl player, and he suddenly invites you to dance. You dance to old songs in the middle of the room, embracing, and there is no one but you at this moment. Probably you start to remember the moments of your youth, how you met each other and perhaps the conversation turns to your future, about children, and you go trying for your first one i dunno ahahhahaha

I just want to imagine Alex slowly dancing and I'm wondering what song it will be😋

ouch, this is so cute to read 😭 and i'm glad you're enjoying it!!! ur idea is so adorable, i feel bad it's just a blurb, yet i hope you like it!! ♥️ (there's no smut) ; (i added num 007 as well)

here's the prompt list

You were wearing one of his white button-down shirts, the collarbone slightly exposed, and you felt relaxed. It was near the end of the day, and Alex was wearing a tank top and cotton shorts that he only wore at home. You loved the intimacy of it all; it put a silly and fulfilled smile on your face. You placed the pasta on the balcony table—a simple and quick meal, accompanied by a bottle of wine. The sole and humble purpose of it was to have more quality time together. After Alex set the glasses, he put his hands on your waist and gave a quick kiss on the top of your head. In silence, with only soft music playing from inside the house, creating a cozy atmosphere, you finished lighting the candles scattered around, from the table to various spots on the floor.

When you first met Alex, you thought the honeymoon phase of the relationship would only last in the beginning, where everything was focused on conquest. However, over time, even after getting married, nothing had changed. He was just as intense as when he was in his 30s. You had recently moved to Paris, and you didn't know of any other place in the world that felt as "Alex" as this city. Sometimes, especially on Saturdays, you would go out for tea and explore the neighborhood in the morning just because it was incredibly beautiful. It had quickly become a habit. You would wake up to kisses and intertwined bodies, and as a routine, you would get ready together, sharing the bathroom and deafening laughter before heading out into the street.

The house you got yourself, located in the southern part of the country, was spacious, with a main room glass ceiling and a balcony offering a perfect view of the neighborhood's beautiful garden. Although you had loved the house right from the start, seeing Alex's radiant smile and vibrant eyes as he showed you the place made you realize that even if you hadn't liked it initially, you would have ended up loving it for him.

"May I have this dance, wife?" His accent sounded stronger in the cold wind. The candles weren't helping as much as you had hoped, and his warm hands embraced your chilly body. "It's cold. Come closer, babe." His voice was like a warm blanket, and sometimes you could swear he looked at you with the same affection you saw in his eyes when you first met and spent hours talking in a concert queue. You hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers play with his curls. You buried your face in his chest and immediately felt more comfortable and warm.

He held you tighter and lifted your body slightly so that your feet were on top of his. Your laughter caused vibrations in his chest, and he felt his muscles relax as he saw you safe and happy with him. And you did feel that way, not just in the physical sense of the word, but in trusting your feelings and flaws with someone. You could be yourself, even let your mind empty while your movements were guided by him and the hypnotizing voice of Father John Misty. You could rest on him.

"What do you think we'll be like in ten years?" You asked, causing him to pause the movements, as if listening to you was more important. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up before placing them on your properly chilled cheeks, making you laugh. "I can't say for sure. I enjoy the present so much that I don't think of a future that's much different. Don't get me wrong. It's just that as long as I'm with you, it'll be worth it." You wrinkled your nose, wearing a slight smile.

Meanwhile, he grabbed one of the blankets from the bench and placed it over both of you, covering your hands, legs, and even your head, that were fitting perfectly against his body like a magnet. He made room for you without hesitation. "What's on your mind, babe?" he suggested, kissing your cheek, sensing from your expression that you were trying to say something more. "Well, I wanted to bring up the topic of having children with you, but I don't know how to do it without sounding like it's a too much of a thing. I know you've never really thought about it, but I thought we could start... I don't know." You spoke casually, not wanting to make it seem like a big deal or sound intimidating. He gently turned your chin to make you look at him and said, "I know it's a big thing, but I want to know more about it. I like the idea of having children with you. I'm afraid of the reality of it, yeah, as I can barely take care of myself, but I've always known your thoughts on the matter. I wouldn't have married you if I didn't consider the idea." His words came out slowly, with light breaths, typical of Alex. It was as if he had rehearsed those lines, as if he knew or expected this conversation would come at some point and he didn't want to disappoint you. You found it cute of him. You didn't say anything, but you had a happy aura, with smiles and a light heart, that made Alex feel the same way. There was a flutter of excitement in your stomach, but it felt so right.

You brought the wine glass to your lips, realizing it had turned cold. You suddenly realized that you hadn't noticed the passing of time, but it was a common occurrence. The food would be the same, yet you would eat it as if it were the best meal you had ever tasted. Between bites, Alex kissed your face, sealing your lips together before more laughter filled your chests.

"You know, your kisses still taste like standing for about 6 hours to see The Strokes up close for the thousandth time, but this time being the most important of all." He would be happy to train and subsequently have happy children with you.

[multifamdomfan]

A Day in the Mortal World

a/n: Conrad belongs to @mozliwie

The gang searched for something to drink and found a bottle of 1837 wine. Conrad opened it, sniffing the air like a sommelier, and murmured, "Ah, 1837... New Constitution in Spain ended slavery in the country and limited monarch power, Chicago got city rights, and Chopin wrote the Funeral March."

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow. "You’re talking like you were there."

Conrad smirked, taking a sip. "I was. Let me tell you a story..."

---

In 1837, the mortal world was on the cusp of profound change, a time when invention and revolution swirled in the air like the faintest breath of a storm. Conrad Morningstar, though only minutes younger than his twin sister Charlie, had lived a life full of complexity and contradiction. His youthful curiosity and quiet nature had always seemed at odds with his birthright, as the son of Lucifer and Lilith. Yet, despite the burdens of his lineage, he had a fire inside, a burning desire for meaning beyond the confines of Hell. It was an ember that had remained quietly smoldering until the day his father—Lucifer Morningstar—decided to take him to the mortal world.

The journey had begun with an invitation, one that neither Lucifer nor Conrad could refuse. Queen Victoria’s coronation in 1837 was an event of immense importance, a crowning moment that symbolized a new era for the British Empire. Though Conrad had no real love for mortals, he was intrigued. He had only ever seen them through the lens of Hell—frail, mortal creatures bound by their limitations. But as he and his father stepped through the gateway into the human world, Conrad felt something stirring deep within him, a sense of otherworldly excitement, as though the mortal world was offering him a new kind of magic.

The coronation was everything one might expect: grand, lavish, a spectacle of elegance and regal display. Lucifer, ever the commanding figure, stood tall and proud by his son’s side, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as they observed the throngs of mortals bowing and swearing allegiance to their new queen. Conrad, less enthused but still fascinated by the crowd’s adoration of their monarch, felt his thoughts drifting to what lay beyond the coronation hall.

Their journey took them to Paris, where the world of music and art beckoned them. A private concert by the famed composer Frédéric Chopin awaited them. Conrad had always admired art, though he had never truly let himself be absorbed by it. But as he sat in the dimly lit concert hall, Chopin’s hauntingly beautiful piano melodies struck a chord deep within him. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, the notes weaving through the air like a spell. It was then he realized that art was its own kind of magic—one that needed no supernatural power to exist.

Lucifer, ever disinterested in mortal affairs, was more concerned with the power plays of Parisian society than with the performance. Yet, even he couldn't help but acknowledge the genius of Chopin, though he did so with the usual air of superiority. Still, it was a moment that lingered with Conrad, as if the mortal world had the power to surprise him at every turn.

“Hold on… you met a fucking Charles Darwin?” Angel Dust suddenly interrupted.

Conrad sighed, swirling his wine. "If you'd let me finish the story…"

---

The next stop was Algeria, a place far from the comforts of European luxury. The French conquest had begun, and the horrors of war were laid bare in the sands of North Africa. It was there, amidst the brutality of colonization, that Conrad’s moral compass was truly tested.

Dammermont, a French officer known for his cruelty, had crossed their path in the town of Constantine. The man’s treatment of the Algerians was barbaric, and Conrad’s temper, long simmering beneath the surface, finally broke.

He took a rifle from a fallen soldier, aimed, and shot Dammermont before he could continue his cruelty. There was no dramatic display of hellfire, no divine punishment—just a single shot that echoed through the battlefield, and the man fell.

Lucifer, watching without a hint of emotion, simply exhaled. "You see, boy, humans are evil either way. It doesn't matter what you do."

But Conrad wasn’t so sure. He had always questioned his father’s worldview, but this encounter solidified his belief that there was more to life than the cold indifference of Hell.

Their final stop was a place that seemed to transcend time itself—a workshop in Paris where the wonders of human invention were unfolding before their eyes. It was here that Conrad and Lucifer met Louis Jacques Daguerre, the French inventor who had just created the daguerreotype—a revolutionary method of photography.

Fascinated by this new technology, Conrad stood before Daguerre as the inventor took their photograph for the very first time. The process was slow, delicate, but the result was astonishing. The image captured on that glass plate was a moment frozen in time—Lucifer, his silver eyes gleaming with pride, and Conrad, standing slightly behind his father, his sharp features softened by the light of the studio.

---

As the story ended, the gang sat in silence, unsure whether to believe Conrad or chalk it up to his usual enigmatic nature. Angel Dust rolled his eyes and grabbed the wine bottle. "Alright, that was a hell of a story. Now let's drink."

The group moved on, laughing and pouring drinks, leaving Conrad alone for a brief moment.

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small, aged case. He opened it carefully, revealing a daguerreotype—the first-ever photograph of him and his father. The image had faded slightly with time, but it was still there. A single moment captured forever.

He stared at it for a while, the memories swirling in his mind. Then, with a quiet sigh, he closed the case and followed the others, letting the past slip back into mystery.

[echoesonthedarkside]

Deeper Feelings

warnings: smut, lewd themes, alcohol, smoking, oral sex(fem receiving), penetrative sex, creampie finish, squirting/female ejaculation, one night stand word count: 2k pairings: Richard Wright x Fem!Reader a/n: for you @starstruckfangirlsposts!! I hope you like it!!!! I tried to make it as best to your request as I could. MDNI

You’re sitting at a table, looking over at the bar. Your heart flutters in your chest when four guys walk in. There’s no mistaking them, that’s the band that just played at the arena last night. They are practically legends to you and to others. There’s a bit of a buzz as they approach the bar and some people approach them.

Remaining seated, you decide not to go over there. There’s probably just too many people surrounding them anyway. But from your seat, you get to observe them. The one that keeps catching your eye is the pianist. He looks very sweet and almost a little shy. There must be something more behind those beautiful eyes.

Richard feels a little tired. It’s been a pretty hectic tour and he’s just glad for a little night out for some drinks and then it’s back to the hotel room for some much needed sleep. He looks around the bar, trying his best to answer the questions that come from the patrons. That’s when he spots you. Your eyes lock and the sweet smile that comes from you is just heartstopping.

“Hey, you good?” David asks him, passing him a beer.

“Oh, uh, yeah of course. Sorry, just a little too crowded here.”

Richard takes the beer, taking a swig of it. He watches as you mirror him, though he can tell you’re trying not to make it overly obvious. He likes how you’re sticking to your corner, almost if you’re wanting to get lost in your own little world.

“Go talk to her,” Roger says with a smirk.

“W-who?” Rick asks, shrugging his shoulders.

“Go on, go talk to her.” Nick coaxes.

Rick laughs softly, a gentle blush on his cheeks. He takes another swig of his beer before finishing it off. He waves down the bartender and orders two drinks. He’s not always one to make the first move, but tonight he’s feeling confident.

You watch as he approaches you. It’s almost like he’s walking up to your table in slow motion. The smile on his face is so sweet and you find yourself swooning.

“Hi there, may I sit with you?” He asks, his voice is polite.

You nod. “Sure, please sit with me.”

Rick sits next to you and passes you a drink. You thank him for it and take a sip. You’re going to need all the liquid courage you can right now considering who you’re talking to.

“I’m Rick, by the way. I saw you across the bar.”

You smile and introduce yourself. “I saw you too. You’re in that band, yeah?”

“Pink Floyd, yes. Did you come to the concert last night?”

“I did. I’ll admit that I’m a fan.”

The two of you begin to talk about music. The conversation flows well, and the more you drink, the more you loosen up. Despite this being a literal celebrity talking to you, you find Rick is very approachable and very sweet. He’s got something about him that just draws you in. 

He lights up a cigarette, handing one to you. You take it, and you watch as he leans in to use the tip of his lit cigarette to light up yours. It’s a very intimate move and it has you feeling even more attracted to him. The more he talks to you, the more you find everything about him just so sexy.

“So,” he smirks. “Do you have anywhere to be tonight?”

You shake your head. “Nowhere special. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t want to come off as too forward, but I wondered if maybe you’d like to come up to the hotel with me. We can continue our discussion there.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. There was no denying the attraction that was building between the two of you. With another sip of your drink, you nod.

“I’d like that.”

He places his hand on yours. “I would too.”

The two of you finish up your drinks and cigarettes before getting up. His waves to his bandmates who are all busy with their own conquests of the evening. His hand is surprisingly soft as he allows it to envelop yours. 

As you step out of the bar, the night air settles on the two of you. He hails a cab to bring you to the hotel. Here you were, going to the hotel room of some rockstar. You knew you were going to have some fun, even if you felt a little nervous.

Rick is very kind and gentle as he leads you out of the cab. He pays the fare and tips handsomely, which in your mind isn’t even a flex on his wealth. It shows more of his desire to be sweet and kind. Then he guides you into the hotel through a door on the side, making sure you’re both shielded from the public eye.

The ride up to his room is long. The elevator brings you up to the top floor and the two of you keep eyeballing each other. The sexual tension has grown even stronger now. You finally look at him and he grabs you.

“Please, don’t think any less of me.”

His lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily. He tastes of whiskey and cigarettes, but it is by no means unpleasant. You tangle your fingers in his hair earning a moan from the man kissing you. Just as he’s about to deepen it, the doors slide open.

Rick intertwines his fingers with yours, guiding you down the hallway. He pulls a keycard from his pocket and uses it to open the room door. Inside is one of the fanciest rooms you’ve ever seen. You’re sure that this place is bigger than your apartment.

He closes the door behind you and tells you to make yourself comfortable. You find a cozy sofa in the sitting room while Rick goes to get a few more beers for the two of you. When he joins you, there’s a bit more of an air of comfortability now that you two have kissed.

He sits even closer, his hands on you now. It starts with him just caressing your arm as he listens to you talking, then he wraps his arm around you. It’s not long before Rick is kissing you again.

“I hope this isn’t going too fast,” he whispers against your lips.

“It’s just the right pace for me.”

He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap, the kisses getting deeper and longer. When his tongue slides into your mouth to meet yours, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips. Slowly, Rick undresses you as he presses sloppy kisses and bites on your skin as he exposes it.

“You’re beautiful,” he grunts before kissing your lips once more.

You arch into his embrace as he begins to knead your breasts. At first, you thought maybe he’d be more reserved and shy, but he was definitely shattering your own interpretations of him. Rick kisses your neck, nipping softly. He helps pull down your pants before laying you on the couch.

“It’s been a little while since I was intimate with someone, so excuse me if I’m rusty.” He explains as gets on his knees.

You watch through hooded eyes as he pushes his hair back and begins to kiss your inner thighs. With each kiss, he gets closer and closer to your pussy. His hand reaches down to unbutton his jeans and he pulls his cock out.

“Can’t help myself,” he grunts. “You smell so good and I’m so fuckin’ hard.”

His tongue is warm and velvety as it slips between your soaked folds. Over and over, he licks your clit before pulling it between his lips. Your body is squirming to get even closer to him. There’s a soft little chuckle that falls from his lips as he notices your reaction.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

You run your fingers through his hair, and Rick smirks up at you. His tongue swirls around your clit over and over, making you shudder from head to toe. It’s certainly been a while since he’s made a woman feel this good, but with the way you’re reacting to his every move and touch, it boosts his ego.

When you reach your peak, his cock throbs at the sound of your voice. Your thighs clench around his face, making him groan into your sweet little pussy. Rick laps up every little bit of your juices, eager to taste you. When he pulls away, he rests his head on your thigh and looks up at you.

“How was that?” He asks sweetly, gently rubbing your swollen clit. You twitch with need.

“That was the best fucking head I’ve ever had.”

He smirks before getting up on his feet. With both of his hands, he helps you up. Your legs feel like jelly right now. You wouldn’t trust yourself to walk by yourself now, so you’re happy to have him help you.

Once on the bed, he crawls on top of you. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. You help take off the rest of his clothes. Rick spreads your thighs, smirking at the way you’re still so wet.

“I have to say,” you breathe. “You’re a lot less rusty at this than you think.”

He slips into you slowly, “Is that so? I’m glad to hear it.”

Rick gives you time to adjust to his size. The way your walls flutter wildly around him has his mind so fuzzy. You’re warm and wet and it’s been way too long since he’s had sex. Between touring and recording, he doesn’t always find the time to indulge in these private little moments.

Then your hands come up to cup his cheeks and his heart flutters when you kiss him. It makes him feel so desired and it fuels the fire that has steadily been building inside of him. And with that, he pushes your legs up to your chest, and pumps into you hard.

“Let me show you just how good things can be with me,”

He knows what people say about him. He knows he’s known as the shy, quiet type. Let them say all those things. Inside the bedroom, Richard Wright is a different man.

With you in this position, he reaches deeper inside of you. He picks up the pace, slamming into you over and over. The headboard begins to hit against the wall, mixing in with the sounds of your moans and wet skin slapping together. He watches as your breasts bounce with each thrust of his hips.

“I’m going to make you cum,” Rick grunts. “Gonna make you cum on my cock.”

One of his hands slides down your body, stopping to tweak and pull on your nipples gently. His hips don’t stop, instead he seems to pick up the pace even faster. He’s grinning as he watches you come undone with just penetration.

“Already cumming?” He teases you softly, reaching down to rub your clit to prolong your orgasm.

It’s only a few more thrusts and you’re gushing all over him. Rick grunts as he’s splashed with your juices. He doesn’t know if he’s ever had a woman cum this hard before, but he’s driving into you harder and deeper to keep it going.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I’m close.”

He rests his head on your chest now, pounding into you harder and faster. You watch as his face contorts into pleasure as he spills deep inside of you, coating your insides with thick cum. Slowly, he begins to slow his pace until he’s stopped completely.

You wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair as you both try to catch your breath. He chuckles as he looks at you and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

“That was amazing,” he says.

“You were amazing. Do you fuck all women like that?”

This causes him to blush a little. “...well, I don’t know. I like to take my time and give pleasure to any lover I have.”

You caress his cheeks. “I’ve never cum like that. You really are an amazing lover.”

He pulls out of you and pulls you in to cuddle. You rest on his chest now, just relaxing. Your whole body feels so numb with bliss. His fingers run through your hair.

“Get some rest. You don’t have to leave,” he whispers.

You smile. “I’ll stay.”

He pulls the covers over the both of you. And for now, you’re both cocooned in each other’s embrace.

[spiderbitesandvampirevenom]

Since you have a degree in medieval islamic history, I want to ask you about the early muslim conquests of the MENA region. Ive seen a lot of zionists use them to justify zionism as "decolonization" from "arab colonialism", and even a post claiming that the "indigenous people of the middle east" have suffered from islamic/arab colonization. But do you think the description"colonialism" accurate to describe them?

So this is a question that deserves a proper essay to answer fully, but the "short" answer to your question is no zionism is not decolonization. The early muslim conquests were not colonialism. There was not a concerted systemic effort to remove and replace the previous inhabitants of the regions they conquered with Arab settlers.

[jq37]

Speculation part 2: KP found the rogue teacher by disturbing her grave. Oisin's grandma is in charge of the bank (hence the shift to blue). KP needed to know about Kristen creating a god b/c the Grinders need to go to the Astral Plane where Ankarna's remains are--Oisin has Plane Shift. The spread of rage (possibly boosted by the concert) might be a holy conquest in her name. Kalina mentioned Ragh to point them to Jace. KP hates Riz b/c she didn't think to make business cards and she's jealous.

Ok second speculation post. Let's go through these:

-KP found the rogue teacher by disturbing her grave.

Seems likely it was something at least close to this considering we know she went to the cemetery. No idea how chill of a thing this is to do considering she literally is a rogue and graverobbing *does* seem like rogue behavior.

-Oisin's grandma is in charge of the bank (hence the shift to blue).

Also seems likely that there's a connection here considering that Brennan was very specific in giving Fabian a bank contact and mentioned it several times before he looked into it which I found slightly odd. Also, this would be the third time banking was an important part of a D20 season (other 2 times being in Freshman Year and in Starstruck with Margret's online banking lol).

-KP needed to know about Kristen creating a god b/c the Grinders need to go to the Astral Plane where Ankarna's remains are--Oisin has Plane Shift.

Makes the most sense with the info we currently have. So the question remains--why? Kipperlilly has intense anger issues so maybe that's how she was drawn in. And Ruvina might have wanted her sister back enough to nudge Lucy into it? But need more info to be sure. Can't wait to see KP's file so we can learn what her damage is.

-The spread of rage (possibly boosted by the concert) might be a holy conquest in her name.

Entirely possible. There have been several instances of people getting so aggro--including maybe Jace at Henry which Brennan pointed out in an AP (which might mean that instance is a red herring but I wanted to mention it anyway bc I forgot to in the recap).

-Kalina mentioned Ragh to point them to Jace.

That's my current theory as well.

-KP hates Riz b/c she didn't think to make business cards and she's jealous.

Assuming this is true until we learn otherwise, lol.

For real though, I wonder if she was working on the missing girls case as well and got jealous that Riz is the one who cracked it and not her. Because seriously, what else was Riz doing Freshman Year?

[suitov]

miodaaaaaaaa: what did u guys think?? -(๑☆‿ ☆#)ᕗ

maincourseorbust: Ibuki!! That was literally incredible

KonamiCoed: You were so good! And so was Sayaka!

SunniGummi: it was aight ^^

Nevermind: As they say in Japan, you socked them in the rocks! 🤩

maincourseorbust: Literally everyone in that tiny place was singing along it was so good !!

miodaaaaaaaa: ibuki is so glad!!!!

miodaaaaaaaa: now hajiji sees why ibuki couldn't tell ┐(･ω･;)┌

miodaaaaaaaa: booki haaaate keeping secrets ╥﹏╥

maincourseorbust: yeah I know private concert is private

KonamiCoed: Not to pry, Hajime, but just so I have a full head count...

KonamiCoed: Is Nagito with you by any chance?

maincourseorbust: yeh took two kibovil and took over my bed

Nevermind: A dastardly conquest! Is he feeling better?

maincourseorbust: Hes fine just being a baby abt the sound levels

KonamiCoed: He didn't have to stand right at the front with us...

SunniGummi: ye he did or id flush his head for being unsupportive

KonamiCoed: Hiyoko.

SunniGummi: ffs he was up there bc big bro hajitits was

Nevermind: Secret concerts are even better with a loved one!

KonamiCoed: :)

Nevermind: 😘

maincourseorbust: HolD IT when did THIS happen??

SunniGummi: lol observant boy finally catches up 2 the rest of us

KonamiCoed: You only found out yesterday, Hiyoko...

SunniGummi: saffic spidey sense

miodaaaaaaaa: hajiface finally realises the world of girl love ✌( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )✌

maincourseorbust: komaeda says he knew too

maincourseorbust: Im happy for you two :) :)

Nevermind: Likewise for you!

maincourseorbust: What do you mean Sonia ??

Nevermind: 🥰

maincourseorbust: ?????

SunniGummi: lmao

[mgopinoon]

https://www.vogue.com/slideshow/vogue-december-issue-cover-launch-party-2024?utm_brand=voguemagazine&utm_campaign=aud_dev&utm_content=instagram-bio-link&utm_medium=social&utm_social_type=owned&utm_source=instagram&utm_term=voguemagazine

Check it out.

Girl, thanks for the gossip, hahaha. Could it be that Cory is her new conquest? Even though he's queer (justification for shippers). We've seen her with him too much lately, starting with the pathetic interview where she threw herself at him, dinners, going out with him after events, it's interesting. There's no trace of Austin, who didn't record yesterday and who could have been there for 5 minutes to accompany her, which shows once again that they're not together and that the circus they did at Grace's concert was just damage control.

[clariannahoney]

Joohoney's Squirting Virgin Conquest

The lights of the stadium were blinding, but Honey couldn't tear her eyes away from the stage. She was here for one reason—to see Joohoney, the enigmatic rapper from MONSTA X. Her heart pounded in her chest as he prowled the stage, his every move a testament to his raw power and undeniable sex appeal.

Honey had always been shy, her chubby frame making her feel invisible in crowds. But tonight, something felt different. Maybe it was the energy of the crowd, or the way Joohoney seemed to command everyone's attention, but she felt a spark of boldness she'd never experienced before.

As the concert reached its climax, Joohoney locked eyes with her from across the sea of fans. His gaze was intense, almost possessive, sending a shiver down her spine. Before she could process what was happening, he was off the stage and making his way towards her.

"You," he growled, his voice deep and commanding as he stood before her, "you're coming with me."

Honey's breath caught in her throat. Was this really happening? She nodded, too stunned to speak, and allowed him to lead her out of the stadium and into the waiting limo.

Inside, Joohoney pinned her against the plush leather seat, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost curious.

"H-Honey," she stammered, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement.

Joohoney smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Honey, you're going to be mine tonight. Do you understand?"

Her pulse raced as she nodded again, unable to form words under his intense scrutiny. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Good girl."

The limo pulled up to a luxury hotel, and Joohoney escorted Honey inside, his hand firm on her lower back. They rode the elevator in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the machinery and their breathing. When they reached his suite, he pushed her gently against the door once it closed, his hands roaming over her curves.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of her face. "Every inch of you."

Honey's cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal flooding through her. She'd never been told she was beautiful before, especially not by someone like Joohoney.

He kissed her then, his lips demanding yet gentle, exploring her mouth with a hunger that matched her own growing desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her breasts through her shirt, making her gasp into his mouth.

"So responsive," he praised, his voice thick with desire. "I love it."

Honey felt a rush of wetness between her legs, a foreign sensation that both scared and excited her. Joohoney noticed, his eyes darkening with lust as he trailed kisses down her neck.

"Let me show you how good it can feel," he whispered, his hand slipping beneath her skirt to stroke her thigh.

She whimpered, her body trembling under his touch. He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed where he laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Spread your legs for me, Honey," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.

Blushing furiously, she obeyed, her legs parting slowly. Joohoney knelt between them, his gaze intense as he studied her.

"You're so wet for me," he observed, his fingers dipping into her folds. "Does that feel good?"

Honey bit her lip, nodding as he circled her clit, the pleasure building rapidly. She'd never felt anything like this, the intensity of his touch overwhelming her senses.

"Tell me what you want," he urged, his voice coaxing.

"I... I don't know," she confessed, her voice shaky.

Joohoney smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly. "Let me take care of you, then. Just feel."

With that, he positioned himself at her entrance, his cock hard and ready. Honey tensed, her virginity a barrier she knew would soon be breached.

"Relax," Joohoney soothed, kissing her forehead. "I'll be gentle."

He pushed inside slowly, watching her face for any signs of pain. Honey gasped, tears pricking at her eyes as he filled her completely. It hurt, but there was also a strange sense of completion, of rightness.

Joohoney paused, giving her time to adjust. "Are you okay?" he asked, his concern genuine.

"Y-yes," she managed, her voice small.

He began to move then, each thrust careful yet deliberate, drawing out moans from deep within her. Honey clung to him, her body responding to his rhythm, the pain giving way to pleasure.

"That's it," he praised, his voice rough with exertion. "Feel how good it is, Honey."

Her body arched, her hips meeting his thrusts as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Joohoney watched her intently, his own release building as he sensed her approaching climax.

"Come for me, Honey," he ordered, his voice commanding. "Show me how you squirt."

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cried out, her juices flowing freely. Joohoney groaned, his own release hitting as he watched her, his eyes alight with triumph and adoration.

They lay together, spent and satisfied, Joohoney stroking her hair as she caught her breath.

"You did so well," he murmured, his tone full of pride. "I knew you could."

Honey smiled, her heart swelling with affection for this man who had shown her such intense pleasure. As they drifted into sleep, entwined in each other's arms, she knew her life would never be the same.

[lalalovesbl]

Why I don’t think Boeing is Sand’s ex: AKA An insane plot to convince myself that Mix is still Sand’s ex.

In before I’m proven wrong but I just want to put this out there.

Part of this is Delulu but, I don’t think Boeing is Sand’s ex.

Point 1: Style/Type

Now unless Boeing has pulled a Nick and is dressing like Top in an effort to somehow seduce Top, From what we know about Sand, he doesn’t seem like his type. That’s not to say that Boeing wasn’t his type at one point and he didn’t want to be with anyone like that anymore but, Boeing seems like Top 2.0 and perhaps they have remained friends after breaking up because they are a lot alike. Sand coming from his somewhat rough background doesn’t seem to rub shoulders with the upper class that much. Granted we don’t know anything about Boeing yet but he seems to be well off enough given his clothing. In contrast, Sand is a rough around the edges intense guy. He also speaks his mind. If Ray and Boeing had any similarities given their financial background, I feel like Sand would have brought it up. Saying something along the lines of “Your kind blah blah blah” he does call him out for being a rich boy that throws around money but he doesn’t draw any parallels between the two.

Again, this part of the theory hangs on the fact that Boeing is in the upper class like Top and hasn’t changed himself for Top.

Point 2: Contact

In episode 6, when Sand and Top meet at the hospital, he attempts to “bury the hatchet” with Sand and tells him he no longer is in contact with Sand’s ex

While Top isn’t above lying, volunteering this information seems weird unless he’s trying to hide it from Mew. At this point he doesn’t see Mew and Sand interacting much (truthfully they don’t interact). So stating he doesn’t keep contact with Sand’s ex is a weird flex. However, it seems he has kept in contact with Boeing. He states that Boeing has a key to the condo, and seemingly calls him on nights when he can’t sleep and doesn’t want to take pills. I assume so he can sleep next to someone.

To play the devil’s advocate for my own theory. This isn’t to say that he isn’t lying to Sand in an effort to keep the peace or even that he has recently reached out to Boeing after a long period of Non-contact. The two seem to be on friendly terms.

Point 3: Relationship

While we don’t know the nature of Boeing and Top’s relationship other than he’s his ex, the question remains. “Why did they break up and why are they still friends?” Top stole Sand’s ex for what? Was it just a one night stand? Did they have a relationship? Given Top’s nonchalant attitude about Sand’s ex, I’m lead to believe that Sand’s ex was a conquest that once he won, cast them aside. If Sand’s ex and Boeing are the same person, he has too much attachment to Boeing to have been a person he dumped after winning over. Whatever their relationship is, he willing to lie about it to Mew. Also, if Top had stolen Boeing away just to dump him either his relationship with Sand was bad and he was looking for a way out, he realized he couldn’t go back to Sand and just let it be, or he still pines for Top.

Again to play my own devil’s advocate, Sand doesn’t seem all that bothered by cheating. He’s with Ray who is basically cheating on Mew with him. Be it that he knows Ray is going through figuring out his feelings or because he’s in too deep with Ray, he doesn’t push him away because of the cheating, but rather because he doesn’t want to be Ray’s back up. So I feel that his anger at Top over his ex is because Top made a concerted effort to steal him away knowing he had a boyfriend. Which seems like a lot of effort if you’re just gonna turn around and dump them but remain friends. But, it’s possible they couldn’t work it out after the novelty of the situation wore off.

In conclusion. I feel like there isn’t enough evidence pointing to the fact that Boeing is Sand’s ex. I could be wrong and have Delulu blinders on but, Not enough adds up to me. We don’t know where Boeing and Sand met if they are indeed exes. It could be school, it could be the club, it could even be through his work as a moonshiner. I guess we’ll know this coming Saturday.

Anyways, Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[along-the-silkroad]

Rumelihisarı as seen from Bosphorus strait.

Rumelihisarı, also known as the Rumelian Fortress or Roumeli Hissar Fortress, and sometimes referred to as Boğazkesen Fortress (meaning "strait-cutter fortress"), is a medieval Ottoman stronghold situated in Istanbul, Turkey. It stands on a series of hills along the European side of the Bosphorus. The fortress gives its name to the surrounding neighborhood within the city's Sarıyer district.

Built between 1451 and 1452 CE under the orders of Sultan Mehmed II, the fortress was constructed as part of preparations for the Ottoman siege of the Byzantine city of Constantinople. Its purpose was to block any potential maritime aid from the Bosphorus Strait to the Byzantines, giving rise to its alternative name, "Boğazkesen," or "Strait-cutter" Castle. A sister structure, Anadoluhisari ("Anatolian Fortress"), lies on the opposite side of the Bosphorus, and together, they effectively controlled naval traffic during the siege, playing a critical role in the Ottomans' successful conquest of Constantinople (later renamed Istanbul) in 1453.

Following the conquest, Rumelihisarı functioned as a customs checkpoint and occasional prison, notably detaining diplomats from enemy states. After sustaining significant damage in the Great Earthquake of 1509, it was restored and remained in use until the late 19th century.

Today, the fortress is a popular museum and serves as an open-air venue for concerts, art festivals, and special events.