#and those that are going on spaces and saying they are are living in the same world where Larry are married with children living HEA

[alkit832]

Quick note, I have like no context for whatever it may be implied that orpheuslament is talking about, but real talk, this is a serious issue with most groups left of centre, they assume a basic framework of understanding for all topics when that's not something most people have.

I'm going to use flat earth as an example, since I have a really good analogy in mind. Imagine you know nothing about geology or astronomy, and think the earth is flat, and you decide to educate yourself. You find Professor Dave, and you're instantly turned away by his hostile attitude. That's most left of centre groups.

Now imagine that same scinario, but instead of finding Professor Dave, you find Dave McKeegan. McKeegan explains things in a non-hostile, and in depth way, covering the same stuff Professor Dave does, but without that immediate air of hostility. You're more likely to not be turned away, assuming you are actively looking to learn in good faith.

Now, I understand being rather rude to someone who is clearly not acting in good faith, but there's the assumption that anyone who approaches without any baseline knowledge won't be acting in good faith just because they didn't do any preliminary research, but that assumption alone turns away so many people who are willing to learn and don't even know how to phrase the first questions they want answered that it's a massive detrimant to any left of centre communities.

I'd even accept us just saying "hey, it seems you don't have the baseline knowledge to even begin to understand what we're talking about" over the current attitude of "Well, you're clearly too dumb to be here in good faith" at this point. This is a long standing issue in a lot of places with a long history of ongoing conversations as well, not just left of centre communities. This can be seen in some hardcore gaming spaces as well, or games with well established META's, but those places don't have nearly the effect on the world and the people living on it that political discussions have.

Wow, I know I ramble a lot, but this was supposed to be a quick note, so I'll stop here before I accidentally end up writing an essay long enough to be used for a college application.

i find the whole "i had unpleasant experiences with leftists before so now im a raging fascist" narrative incredibly funny because we have all had unpleasant experiences with leftists before. it comes free with being a leftist

[gatheredfates]

Playerscope, modding and the hunt for aesthetic: why you should be more upset about mods and community expectations than you already are.

I love that this sounds like an academic paper but HONESTLYYYY. I need to put my thoughts to paper in regards to my burnout with xiv, otherwise I think I'll go insane. This is a controversial yet brave post. I am well aware that I partake in some of the things I'm going to be critiquing; aka, "thank you, dinklebottom, we live in a society." I'm also not critiquing mods from a space of offering more accessibility to people and/or facilitating representation not currently offered within the context of the game. There is nuance to every discussion and I'm coming at this from an overarching view around mods and community expectations/standards rather than player joy. I hope this makes sense. I'm also predominately writing from a roleplay perspective, though I'm sure a lot of what I end up saying can reflect in the art party/social space. Just know if I haven't mentioned the latter it's because that's not my scene and I don't pretend to know otherwise.

Anyway. For those who don't know, there's a new mod that's causing some strife in the xiv community called Playerscope. Here is the reddit thread about it. I'm not going to be talking too much about the mod in general because that's not the point of this post, but seeing discussion around it today just made me feel more exhausted than I already am when it comes to modding and the xiv community around it. It made me realise... I'm actually really sick to death of mods. I'm sick to death of what they're doing to the community when it comes to gatekeeping, policing and in general the interactions we have with each other in the community.

Let me explain: I wrote a post about the roleplay mod on bsky that kind of articulates at a surface level what I mean.

I think what makes me sad, which I'm sure is echoed by a lot of people, is that mods feel like the standard now rather than an option and that there's a certain expectation for people to have them if they want to engage with facets of the community—whether intentional or not.

Unlike XIV, WoW has a supported mod scene (within reason) and TRP 2 and the like have been accepted for years now. In a space where people can't slap on an RP tag, having that tool readily identifies you as a writer/roleplayer and you can include as much or as little of your character as you like. The general idea is if you have one of these tools enabled, you're a roleplayer to some capacity. You can dress up the profile to a certain degree, you can add links and supported pictures, but you're mostly reliant on what you put to paper in regards to your character. Even then, I find filling out what my character is doing currently and marking the rest as a WIP doesn't necessarily exclude me from roleplay if I want to find it. A lot of people will do that and a super simple description to incite interest around their oc.

These days in XIV... I don't know. I do think communities have gotten more insular—it's why I'm so pedantic about trying to find them for the Compendium—but I also think mods and, to a certain extent, the 'nightclub' scene have gotten in the way of it as well. My argument is such.

I want to go to an event (for example sake, I'll call it Seascape). In order to fully participate, I may need:

Their discord.

A roleplay addon.

A carrd/google site/etc.

Their synchshell (including mods, mare and everything else)

Potentially a mod of some description so people know I can see theirs (and vice versa).

Also that your mod isn't made by a shitty person.

Appropriate understanding of the scene/social space.

Some luck and a prayer that it's an inclusive space and not a closed rp group advertising as being open and/or a mod showcase advertising itself as something different.

Like??? Holy shit you guys. If you are someone who doesn't want to mod because you're worried about repercussions it really just feels like a big 'fuck you, good luck'.

And let me be clear, not every community is like this. I'm incredibly lucky to have found fantastic roleplay within my own rp event/community, I have great friends who run awesome, inclusive events for people of any skill (writing or otherwise) and I do fully believe you can just enable the rp tag and find fun, fulfilling roleplay. But I've also found the above a lot of times, too. I've had people point-blank get mad at my partner because he won't install mods and try to exclude and/or circumvent him in spaces. It's weird. I've been to events where the only time I felt like I got proper interaction(s) was when I joined the aforementioned, even if I have my character's profile linked in my about. It's weird.

Honestly, no wonder new roleplayers feel overwhelmed. Not only do they have to learn roleplay etiquette, they have to be a mod expert overnight? It feels less about what someone can bring to the table as far as a story but what mods they can install to either look cool or pass an unspoken social barrier. As much as I'm down bad for aesthetic and looking the part, I hate it being at the cost of accessibility and fun for someone else.

Arguably it's the same for gposing and the like as well, which contributes to my exhaustion alongside all the graphical changes and I just. I'm gnawing at the bars of my cage.

I don't think it's going to change and arguably it's more of a Twitter/X issue than a Tumblr, one but Tumblr lets me write mini essays and Twitter will tell me to kms.

Ergo, I'll go with the essay-writing platform.

Anyway, I guess this is just a reminder that you don't need 4596419651 mods to be in the community and that people should be more vigilant on including people who don't have them for whatever reason, provided they operate in good-faith and want to contribute. I think we're careening to a slippery slope of expectation for something unsupported and I don't like it.

[sofiatarot]

Pick a card: The first impression your future spouse will have of you

(written as individual stories from their perspective because why not???)

1/2

3/4

Group 1:

The moment I saw you, it felt like the world shifted (the tower). You had this electrifying presence, someone who doesn’t go unnoticed. There was something striking about your confidence (the queen of wands) the way you carried yourself like you owned every space you entered. But beneath that, I sensed a vulnerability, a softness you keep guarded (the moon).

You seemed like a dreamer, someone with big aspirations and a vision for life (the star). I admired the spark in your eyes, but I also felt you’d been through challenges that shaped your strength (the 9 of wands). There was an unspoken depth to you, like a story waiting to be unraveled. Meeting you wasn’t just exciting, it felt fated (the wheel of fortune). I knew instantly I wanted to know everything about you, to understand the fire and the mystery within.

Group 2:

When I first saw you, you felt like a breath of fresh air (the fool). You were radiant, glowing with positivity and a sense of wonder that drew me in immediately. There was a purity to your energy, as if you saw the world through hopeful eyes (the sun).

What stood out most was your ability to balance lightheartedness with grace. You seemed so composed, yet approachable (temperance). I was intrigued by how effortlessly you connected with those around you, like you brought harmony wherever you went (the 6 of pentacles).

But then, I noticed something deeper. Behind your warmth, there was a quiet intelligence and a mind that didn’t miss a thing (the page of swords). You’re not just light and joy, you’re thoughtful, someone who sees life for what it truly is and chooses to focus on the beauty anyway. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

Group 3:

You took my breath away. There was an elegance about you, a quiet strength that radiated calm and control (the high priestess). You seemed untouchable, as if you lived in a world of your own creation (the 7 of cups). I couldn’t help but admire how composed you were, how you exuded wisdom without even saying a word (the hermit).

But I also saw your passion, the fire that flickered behind your calm exterior (the knight of wands). You’re someone who follows their heart, even if it means taking risks. It made me wonder what fuels that passion, what dreams, what desires, what secrets.

Meeting you felt like standing before a masterpiece. You’re both inspiring and intimidating, someone I knew would challenge me to grow (the emperor). You were unforgettable, and I was already captivated by the idea of uncovering all your layers.

Group 4:

You had this grounded, earthy energy that immediately made me feel at ease (the king of pentacles). You seemed so dependable, someone who could be both nurturing and fiercely protective (the empress). There was a warmth to you, like you could make anyone feel at home just by being near.

But what caught my attention was your determination. You’re someone who doesn’t give up easily, and it shows in the way you carry yourself (the 8 of pentacles). I could tell that you’ve worked hard to be the person you are, and it made me admire you even more.

There was also this magnetic charm about you, as if you didn’t realize how captivating you were (the lovers). You’re the kind of person people dream about meeting, the perfect balance of strength and tenderness (the strength). From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to build a life with you, one rooted in love and stability.

got me blushing, giggling n kicking my feet

[deathofacupid]

⤷ in which you're the only one soft!sukuna treats this way .ᐟ

soft!sukuna who took forever to say "i love you" for the first time, and thank his ego for that.

when you'd said it for the first time, soft!sukuna couldn't do anything but let his face heat up, avoiding eye contact as if his life depended on it. of course, you knew his nature. you told him he didn't have to say it back, even though (on the inside, at least) you were hoping so much that he would. you just wanted him to know.

and god forbid, once you'd said it that first time, you couldn't stop.

soft!sukuna didn't end up saying it that day, but it didn't really matter. he showed you his love in different ways.

soft!sukuna, who shows you his said love in his own ways, remembers everything about you. the things you said once, then forgot. from your dreams in life to what you had for lunch last tuesday - if it has to do with you, the chances are, he'll remember it.

soft!sukuna who gets up earlier than you do (he doesn't enjoy sleeping in much), and on his morning walk, picks you a single flower from the estate's garden and leaves it on his bare pillow, right next to yours. soft!sukuna doesn't like it when you make such a big deal about it. you see it as you wake up, while he's showering. it's just a flower, in his view, but it makes you happy, so he'll do it for the rest of his life.

soft!sukuna who doesn't really understand human dating customs much, but he'll go along with it - well, most of the time. for example, when you first met him, you wanted to take it slow, so you went on some "test" dates. soft!sukuna was going to make you his anyways, so he thought to entertain it.

the idea of going on "dates" – pre-mating trials to assess compatibility, seemed odd to him. what he wanted, he got. there was no "testing" of anything.

you and soft!sukuna who had some communication issues at the start. he didn't get indirect communication - subtle cues, body language, or "reading between the lines" to express interest or disinterest. soft!sukuna never had a problem with saying what was on his mind, but for you, some things you didn't think really had to be said.

soft!sukuna who's the single most possessive and jealous man you've ever known. somebody looked at you the wrong way? they're a waste of space. he'll dispose of them later. or, hey, did their tone sound a little off? doesn't matter, they should've known better. maybe next time. oh, wait - there won't be a next time.

in fact, this one time, when a guy hit on you at the bar, you had to drag him out, begging and pleading him to not resort to murder.

soft!sukuna who can't bring himself to say no to you, because that pretty little pout tugs on his heart-strings. he thinks it's pathetic, how you've hexed him.

instead, all he can manage is huffy, begrudged "fine."

soft!sukuna who loves cuddles so much. he loves when you rub his back or stomach, not that he'd ever verbally say so. he may be soft for you, but there's still pride.

instead, whenever you're on the bed, he'll look at you a certain way, and you'll know what to do. he loves your touch, so soft and gentle. soft!sukuna has never had anything like it before. he doesn't know how he's lived all this time without it.

soft!sukuna who can be very blunt at times, unintentionally hurting your feelings. he doesn't mean it, he's just not used to being careful with his words. he never says sorry, but the second you get that pained expression in your eyes, mouth parted slightly, soft!sukuna is basically on his knees apologizing. it's nothing short of humiliating, to him, but he'd rather be humiliated than apart from you.

soft!sukuna who said those three words to you, for the first time, during an argument. you'd wanted him to start killing less, you couldn't bear all the lost lives of the innocent. he didn't like that very much. either way, it had escalated quickly.

but the second soft!sukuna saw those tears sliding down your cheeks, he had pulled you flush against his chest, murmuring soft apologies.

"okay, okay. don't cry. i'll do what you want. i love you."

how they slipped out so naturally, as if he weren't planning on saying it in the first place, it surprised the both of you. but when you looked at him, eyes wide with both love and shock, he decided it was the right thing.

soft!sukuna didn't regret it at all.

because both for and to you, soft!sukuna was the sweetest, most gentle man you'd ever known.

all banner credits to @anitalenia and @dollywons .ᐟ

[askshivanulegacy]

People have the stupid idea that all things are done better in-person. It's obviously stupid. There's no basis for it.

It exists because extroverts have cemented this weird idea into the very fabric of how everything operates. The entire world for centuries has worked "by extroverts, for extroverts." It's ignored the way introverts work and the way disabled people need to work.

People "want" to go back to the "status quo." Why? "It's better." Why?

No answer. It's just "better."

And because it's "better," people "look good" for forcing people back to it.

They could easily decide that it's better to maintain and improve remote work capabilities, find new and better ways to virtually connect with people, etc etc.

It's easy for US, the people who created online spaces. It's easy and OBVIOUS to the introverts and disabled people that this is simply a better way of life - for EVERYONE.

Yes, it IS better for me to not have to waste personal time to commute into work. It IS better for me to boot up my computer in my pajamas and "lazily" go make myself a coffee and maybe even a real homemade breakfast now that I have the time and space to do it. It's better for me to be around my family and my life.

It's also better for management because they spend less on energy, square footage, etc etc. It's better for the environment and everyone around you because you commute less.

It's a real quality of life improvement.

But for some reason, this "new" way of life, which should be the epiphany we all deserved to live better, is ... what? Somehow "worse" than burning extra time to burn fuel to commute everyday to an office building so that management can burn the dollars to keep lights and heat and floor space they don't actually need. They could choose to outsource that internet and energy need to YOU the WORKER in your HOME and you would gratefully accept it! But it's "better" to make you come in to waste your resources so management can waste theirs.

Make no mistake, your work leadership is twisting it into a "positive" thing ... and that's a choice. It's a weird choice that is NOT supported by practicality, logistics, or money. They could have chosen to make staying at home look positive instead, and THAT would have saved them $$$$.

But the extroverts and the fake social trend they've established are too weak to conceive of other ways of living and working ... even though it was delivered to them on a silver platter. They choose not to acknowledge that different kinds of people can live better and work better in different ways, and that those ways do not need to be the same for everyone, and that everyone deserves to choose ... and that those choices can EASILY be accommodated. You don't have to work the same as your neighbor.

All that is to say: when you eventually find yourself in those low/mid/higher level management positions, change it. Send in that feedback. Paint it with whatever terminology that the idiot extroverts and the spineless morons who listen to them need to hear.

It's just a game of people trying to look good to other people. And you have the power to redefine what's good.

[ultra-raging-ghost]

i love bbh being a messy bitch. if you go back and watch certain clips, especially the karaoke streams, its incredibly obvious those three never respected him or his dog. with all the times they would INTENTIONALLY swear around him and not apologize IS CRAZY. he deserves to say one (1) fuck directed at the green snot goblin.

NO YEAH. The animal abuse "jokes" they used to make and how they'd poke bad to get a reaction out of him intentionally instead of making jokes that included him and he could enjoy was crazy. Like back in the day everyone made the swearing jokes once or twice it was basically bads brand but they never AGGRESSIVELY did it like EVERY time they interacted, after the second time the joke gets old and honestly even the first time it was a little weird. It was esp weird that they'd call him names like the server prude and shit like that, they never respected bad his pets or his boundaries and honestly I'd say they never even really liked him as a friend, bad gave dream a shout out back in the day and idk if they kept him around for that reason but whatever reason it was he just ended up being a punching bag for these 3 dude bros who just weren't nice to him at all and he had to put up with it bc he wanted his streams to be a safe, no drama space for people to escape to

Me personally I'm like y'all live in the same state and one of you has a gun license and throws knives and axes for fun and the other one is dream so!!! Badboyhalo please call him a fucking asshole nobody will judge you. C'mon just do it we'll look away we won't even clip it/j

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 15

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You find the kitchen. There’s a woman there. She looks just as surprised as you. 

You scuff to a stop across from her and give a toothy smile, “hi.” 

She hesitates, “good morning...” Her confusion nestles in her forehead. “Friend of Thor’s?” 

You think about it, “I know him. Sorta.” 

She pokes her tongue between her lips thoughtfully, “I’m not his wife. Yet. If you and him are... you know...” 

“Huh? Oh, no. No.” You show your palms. “That’s definitely not it. A friend of a friend, really.” 

“Ah,” she looks almost disappointed that you’re not sleeping with her ‘not husband yet’. “Oh, you must be one of the guests.” 

“I guess I would,” you nod. “I’m not tryna impose but do you have somewhere I can hide.” 

“Hide?” She echoes. 

“Um, I just need space. To think. You gotta know how it is. Right? Girl power?” You cringe. 

She snorts, “alright, I can find you somewhere, but you know, they don’t give up.” 

“They?” 

“The men. These type of men,” her tone turns dire. “You want some coffee? I just made a pot. Be nice to have. Alone.” She turns to open a cupboard, “At least, I imagine so.” 

“Sure, uh,” you sway and look over your shoulder. “My caffeine addiction is a bit of a bitch. Pardon my language.” 

She pours into a clear double-walled mug and nears. She wears a robe that’s too big for her. It must be Thor’s. Oh, you shouldn’t think too hard about that. 

“So, you’re with Rogers, was it? How long have you been together?” She hands over the mug and beckons you to another doorway. 

“Together? No, I work for him. I’m an accountant.” 

“Uh huh, he just brings his accountant everywhere?” 

“Well, he’s doing business with Thor, right? So I’m here to do numbers.” 

“Loki can do those and he doesn’t really seem like the type for teamwork,” she says. 

“Sure, uh, but... I don’t know.” 

“You like flowers? I think your best bet is the gazebo but I can always find some dark corner inside,” she says. 

“Oh, outside would be nice. Maybe the fresh air will help with the fainting.” 

“Fainting?” She wonders. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“If you say so,” she shrugs. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Queenie. Obviously I’m... with Thor.” 

“Uh, yes, hi,” you introduce yourself in turn. 

“Out here,” she guides you through a back door and down a winding path. You marvel at the scenery. 

“Wow, this place is so amazing. You really live here?” 

“Sure do. At least I can appreciate the flowers,” she agrees. 

She doesn’t sound especially elated with her circumstance. You can relate to that. You come up next to her and balance your mug. 

“You know, he totally ruined my job.” 

“Hm?” She hums. 

“Steve. I was supposed to start a new one and he made me come here instead.” 

She takes you around to a gazebo and stops at the lower step, “these kinda men also don’t hear no, do they?” 

“Yeah, super annoying. Erm, thanks for the coffee. Sorry if I got in your way.” 

“Not at all. I’d love to stay and hide with you but... better if I don’t,” she glances toward the house. “If I see him, I never saw you.” 

“Thanks,” you blow out in relief. “I owe you.” 

“Nah,” she waves you off. “Girl power, right?” 

“Yessssss,” you grin. 

She turns and traipses away, in no hurry to get back to the house. You climb the steps, careful not to spill, and sit on the bench against the wall. The smell of pollen and leaves tickle your nose. It’s as calm as you’ve been in days. Weeks, even. 

As you ruminate with your coffee, you think about Queenie and what she said. How could she think you and Steve are together? From what you gather, he just broke up with someone. Peggy? You can’t keep track. 

You empty the mug and leave it on the bench. You watch the birds from between the vine canopy around the gazebo. The day shifts and your stomach stirs. You are hungry. 

You sit and take out your phone. Your battery is low. You should save it.  

You’re just so frustrated with everything. Not just Steve but yourself. What’s going on with you that you can’t stop passing out like some damsel in distress? I mean, he is scary but he hasn’t hurt you. Yet. 

Oh stop that! You’re just here to count. That’s your job. It’s the one thing you know how to do. 

You pace around restlessly. You can’t stay here forever. You know that the longer you do, the worse it will be. You’ll be awkward at best and he’ll be angry at most. But he deserves it! How can he just ruin your whole life because he wants to make some shady deal with a criminal like him? 

“So, you going to sleep out here or what?” Steve’s timbre makes you trip and you turn to face him. 

He stands at the bottom of the stares, arms crossed, jaw set. You can’t see all of him but he still looks massive. And dangerous. 

You glower and shake your head. You’re not ready. Yet, what choice do you have? You’re starting to understand those things Queenie said; or rather, didn’t say. 

“You’re just gonna give me the silent treatment, huh?” He climbs the stairs heavily so you flinch with each step. “I don’t get it. Got you nice clothes, took you on a nice trip...” You shake your head and angle so your shoulder is to him. “I been nice to you, sweetheart. It’s why I don’t get this fainting business. I haven’t been violent to anyone who didn’t deserve it.” 

You lower your chin and stare at your lap. The things you want to say might just earn his violence. So you’re better off to stay quiet. 

“We have an agreement. You gotta do the numbers,” he nears, a shadow mirroring your own. “So...” 

“I had an agreement with someone else!” You stand and stomp your foot. “I had a job, an apartment, I had--” You blink and gulp, filling your cheeks with air as you catch your exasperation. You back up and shake your head. “Sorry... no, I’m not sorry. But I am...” you gesture helplessly. “Why me? Why do I have to come here? I didn’t want to!” 

You dare to look at him. You can’t read his face. His eyes flick up and down. He pushes his jacket back and slides his hands in his pockets. 

“Cause I wanted you to.” 

“Because-- because—that's it? Because you felt like it?” 

His cheek dimples and he clicks your tongue, “are we being honest, right now? Is that what this is because you’re toeing a lot of lines, sweetheart.” 

Your lips thin and you hug yourself. “I guess.” 

“Alright, let’s be honest,” he steps closer and the back of your legs touch the bench behind you. “I think you’re cute. I like the way you get all wobbly-headed and I like catching you when you lose it. It’s fun.” 

“Fun?” You scoff. “It’s not--” you blink and shake off the ripple in your vision, “no...” 

“It’s gonna happen now, isn’t it?” His mouth slants. 

“No,” you argue and raise your hand, extending your arm to keep your balance. You reach behind you and slowly sit. “I’m not going to pass out.” 

“Oh, you’re not? Not knowing that I like to toy with you,” he gets even closer, bending to look you in the face. “That I’m not even close to done with you?” You inhale deeply as that woozy glaze fogs your head. His eyes are so blue, so bold. He grabs your chin. “That I’m gonna play with you until you’re broken and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.” 

You gurgle and latch onto his wrist. He chuckles as you try to pull him off of you, instead leaning into him as your brain speckles hotly. Oh no. Your lashes flutter and stick as he eases you forward. Your body slackens and you’re hurled into the blackness once more. 

[andragoras-in-vanity]

yeah i need to bow out of this post because i have no idea where youre getting your information or how the space animal farms take up is relevant? humans dont need to keep spreading their cities outward and using land thats currently allocated to farms when it could be rehabilitated, plus animals tended to properly actually HELP the land if theyre native to those lands and cared for properly, and farming plants takes up an equal amount of land and resources to grow and farm on the scale needed to replace the meat industry (not even getting into exporting or importing due to climate). i live in a rural area and what your saying would be the case isnt how things have gone here, and the land isnt used and isnt part of any other ecosystem, its just fields anyway and wouldn't (shouldnt) be built on for housing or businesses, so the animals might as well get massive pens to roam

my argument is that reforming the meat industry IS reducing it, and since there just isnt a demand for things like leather goods, less product isnt an issue. without overproduction and consumption the population of animals being kept will drop anyway. small scale farms wont make things worse, and the impacts the meat industry has on the environment dont come from meat farming itself.

if i had the brain power id go through and link the articles to show you what i mean about the difference between the meat industry vs animal farming and the impacts they have cause i dont think im articulating it well, and i dont think i can unless i actually go to one of my local farms and show you how they work when not bound by corporate greed or the government 🙃 but i also know different cultures have different practices so maybe yours actually are that bad even on a small scale?

i do think there needs to be lots more options for personal choice, but i dont think converting entirely to a vegan option is the solution and i do hope that more people will acknowledge veganism as an option for things, but i also want some of the uppity types to realize importing of nuts and plants that arent native in order to sustain vegan diets is a massive issue for the environment too (but i also acknowledge that ive fallen into a lifestyle that means what i eat follows the seasons theyre harvested in so i dont typically buy imported foods, and not everyone can do that)

i argue in favour or small and local so you can verify the quality of the animals lives, the farms, and the products you get from them, rather than doing away with it or even simply reforming it and developing different issues that trickles down from government control (like throwing away tons of milk to create scarcity, not like...health codes involvment). we just need both plant and animal in smaller doses, easier to control the output of harmful effects such as a greenhouse vs massive international shipping operations.

its all just a complicated conversation with no real solution on the horizon until larger conversations are had at higher levels to protect animal rights and the environment without just shifting the same problem to another source. there has to be better ways for all of it to work but so many things need to come first for us to come to those solutions, i just hope we see the shift in our lifetime.

Ayoo just to preempt the inevitable dumb takes we’re about to start seeing;

I am PRO-WOOL

I am PRO-LEATHER

I am PRO-BEES

Fuck the idea of replacing durable, sustainable animal products with cheap, flimsy plastic that doesn’t bio-degrade. Agave nectar and other artificial sweeteners are expensive, labor-intensive, and destroy the environment to be farmed.

Do not buy into pernicious marketing campaigns pushed by dickhead organizations trying to stay relevant, like PETA.

[genderqueerdykes]

seems like there's a lot of interest in talking about my experiences being a punk and interacting with our various communities. i've only been interacting with the community for a small handful of years at this point, but i lived at a punk music show house venue and visited them a long time before i lived there. i was also friends with a large circle of punks. ive interacted with a lot of punks online as well

there is a ton of unaddressed ableism in a lot of punk spaces. the 2 scenes i've noticed it the most with are the diy punk scene and the various punk music scenes

diy punks who look down on people who don't create/alter/fix all of their clothing by hand aren't helping anyone. it's great for those that can to do that if they want to, but a lot of people cant do that, or don't want to. it's not an obligation to make and fix things yourself to be punk. it doesn't matter where you purchase things from, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. punks shouldn't be getting uppity about this. some punks have arthritis. some have injuries. some have shaky hands. some have limited motor skills. some have nerve damage. some don't have hands (or prosthetics) at all. some punks have bad backs and can't spend hours hunched over a sewing machine or thread and needle.

some punks struggle to pick up new skills or follow instructions. learning how to sew and repair things takes a lot of time and money. some people don't have the funds to spare on needles, thread, sewing machines, spikes, pins, fabric boning and so on. it costs money to gather materials to DIY anything. not everyone has scraps of fabric or thread or old clothing they don't wear anymore lying around. some people can't afford to keep repairing the same items and sometimes need to just get new ones. it's not a mark of failure as a punk if you can't make/customize your own clothes, accessories, and other items.

people who associate punk with music and music only tend to have a lot of internalized ableism to work on. i've seen so many ppl say you cant be punk if you don't listen to the music and don't go to shows. (and usually if you do listen to the music, you have to list like 15 underground bands or people scoff at you.) this is so fucked up toward so many punks for a number of reasons.

physically and mentally disabled punks have a hard time going to shows. they're crowded. there's very little to no room for mobility aids. they're loud. there's flashing lights. there's people being pushed around and getting hit. there's drugs and alcohol everywhere. there's smoke everywhere. there's usually people filming. some people are very sensitive to loud noises and can't be in this environments at all. loud sounds can make some people pass out. it's generally very hot and the air gets very thick very fast. it can be dangerous for people with asthma and breathing issues. it can be dangerous for people with heart conditions. it can be dangerous for people with POTS, fibromyalgia, hypermobile EDS, arthritis and a lot of other issues. bathrooms are not always accessible. people who become ill or need to use the restroom may have nowhere to go.

some people have hearing damage from going to these shows. my old roommate had significant hearing damage from years of being in a scene band that played at punk shows. i cannot stress enough that hearing damage can be and is a genuine concern for people attending these shows. i always recommend wearing earplugs. pls get earplugs if you do go to shows. some punks are d/Deaf or HoH and have significant or total hearing loss and may not benefit much from going to the shows, or don't want to risk further hearing loss. some punks have tinnitus. there may be photosensitive people who don't want to risk having a seizure due to flashing lights and camera flash. there may be punks who are autistic, have ADHD, misophonia, or other conditions that may lead them to be very sensitive to sound and/or bright lights

a lot of punks are poor. some can't afford to go to shows or be constantly buying new music. some punks don't have regular internet access. some can't afford to constantly be buying or customizing new clothes to make sure they "look" punk. some punks just literally don't *have* punk shows in their area. some don't have local punk bands. some don't have exposure to an irl punk community. some punks have families and careers they enjoy participating in. some punks spend all of their time volunteering. some punks have other hobbies that consume their time.

some punks are homeless or housing insecure and can't do *any* of these things because they're too busy surviving.

i don't like how a lot of punks default to calling other punks "fakes" or "posers" or "lame" or whatever for being too disabled to participate in these things. of course people who are abled enough don't have to, either, but people seem to care very little for those who are too disabled to do these things. punks can produce a lot of different kinds of art. punks can get together and talk with one another about things other than just music. there's a lot to it and i don't like how people focus so hard on things that correlate directly to one's level of ability. it's very gatekeep-y.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most p.2 | S.B.

feat. Sirius Black x Rowle!reader

SUMMARY: You and Sirius run into each other at Tomes and Scrolls during a Hogsmeade trip and temptation boils over once again. Things are progressing between you and Rabastan, leaving you even more lost than before.

CW: MDNI 18+, angst angst angst, making out and heavy petting, cursing, abusive sibling, love triangle (Rabastan Lestrange x reader), Sirius is an angel, Padfoot shows his teeth, manipulative men

>Part One

Evan pulled a dusty, ancient-looking tome from the shelf, its title gleaming faintly in gold: Ancient Brews and Arcane Secrets.

“Blimey,” he said, brushing off the dust. “Bet there’s a recipe for immortality in here.”

Regulus didn’t look up. “Immortality? You can’t even make a sleeping draught.”

“Imagine us living forever,” Barty said, grinning. “We’d be legends.”

“More like eternal nuisances,” Regulus muttered, finally turning to examine the book.

You rolled your eyes and slipped away from the three of them, fishing your shopping list out of your pocket. You needed a few books for your classes, and had managed to convince Thor to let you go into Hogsmeade this week, so long as you were accompanied by a gentleman from a respectable family.

So Evan Rosier and Regulus Black it was, and by extension, Barty Crouch Jr.. Thorfinn didn't need to know that Evan and Barty were the farthest thing from respectable. All that mattered was the quality of the blood in their veins.

You liked Regulus, you really did, but you could barely stand to look at him. Every time you did, his brother floated into your minds eye, and you'd been ruminating on Sirius Black enough as it was.

He'd infected you like the plague, finding every empty space in your mind and filling it with his sonorous voice, his skilled fingers, his scalding kiss. It was all you could do to not show up at his dorm and pounce on him.

And you hated him for it. Hated that he ruined whatever tenuous balance the two of you held. Hated that he was better than you could have imagined. Hated that you craved him like a drug. Hated that this was happening right when Rabastan finally took an interest in you.

You liked Rabastan, and found yourself drawn more and more into his orbit. He was well-mannered and alluring, not to mention absurdly handsome. He was husband material. He made you feel safe, cared for, desirable…he was all you could ever dream of.

Conversely, you hated Sirius Black, and you vowed to never touch him again. That night was a locked box, a vault, and those memories of him could rot and die there. And yet, he was the one finding his way into your fantasies every night.

It was maddening, infuriating, and you tried with all your might to pretend it wasn't happening at all. Sirius didn't exist. That night never occurred.

There was only Rabastan, and your potential future together.

You wandered through the aisles, dragging your fingers over the countless spines as you half-heartedly searched, unable to focus.

“Is that Regulus Black?” A familiar voice boomed through the shop, and you looked up to see James Potter sauntering up to poor, besotted Regulus, his eyes wide like a startled deer.

You took a few steps backwards, glancing towards the entrance. Where there was James…

“Making another quick exit, darling? Seems to be becoming a habit of yours,” Sirius purred in your ear.

You whirled around, your list fluttering from your hands to the floor. “And why are my habits of such interest to you?” You bit, butterflies exploding in your stomach.

Sirius bent down and retrieved it, scanning over the bit of parchment. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, his leather jacket and ripped jeans sinfully casual. Snow still lingered on his dark hair, his broad shoulders, and you resisted the urge to brush it away.

“Everything about you is of interest to me,” he replied, and your heart lost it’s rhythm.

“I—what?”

Sirius smirked. “What’s the saying? ‘Know thine enemy'?” He quoted, and you scowled.

You snatched your list back, tucking it into your pocket. “I'm not interested in your antics, Sirius. If you'll excuse me.” You shouldered past him, trying to keep you breathing even, steps measured, as you left the shop and emerged back into the winter air.

You moved into the shadowed alley between the shops, leaning against the wall to collect yourself. It was embarrassing how quickly he managed to derail you, and you hated yourself for it. Hated him for it.

Who the hell did he think he was, approaching you so brazenly? If Thorfinn knew…

“A long list of books, and yet you leave empty handed.”

You scoffed, snapping your head to the entrance of the alley where Sirius was leaning on one shoulder against the wall. “They didn't have what I was looking for,” you answered, not really sure why you bothered talking to him, or why you seemed unable to move as he approached you.

“Scrolls has every book under the sun,” Sirius countered, stopping a few feet from you. “So what is it exactly you're looking for?”

“What are you doing?” You hissed, throwing him a bladed glare. “What do you want from me?”

“The same thing you want from me—”

“I don't want anything from you,” you said, cutting him off.

Sirius tsked, shaking his head at you. “Still a liar, I see.”

You grit your teeth and pushed off the wall. “Fuck off, Sirius. I want nothing to do with you, or your games.”

“Oh, but wouldn't you like to win?” He purred, throwing out an arm to block your path. “Wouldn't you like to best me once and for all?”

“It's odd that you're so eager to lose,” you mused, stopping just before touching his chest.

“That's what I am, baby. A loser.” He turned his body, pressing you back against the wall, his ringed hand braced by your head the same way it was that damning night. “And if losing means I get to taste you again, I'll wear that title like a badge of fucking honor.”

His words went straight to your core, liquid heat pulsing through your lower belly in time with your racing heart.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Surely he hadn't just admitted that he wanted you…out loud.

“Sirius—”

“Tell me to go again and I will,” he muttered, his fogged breath warm against your chilled face. “Tell me you hate me, call me whatever you want, but just don't lie to me. I've had enough lies for a lifetime.”

“Why couldn't you just leave things the way they were?” you said bitterly, thumping a hand weakly against his chest, feeling his heart pounding as quickly as yours.

He smiled, a sad, rueful thing. “Felt like I was running out of time.”

A frustrated tear rolled down your cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at his face any longer. A lie dangled at the tip of your tongue, poised and ready to cut him down and rid yourself of his poison for good. But you just couldn't say it.

You felt his lips brush your cheek, catching the tear as it fell and your lungs hitched a strangled breath, fingers tightening on his shirt.

You shouldn't be feeling so much, like the emotions were pushing at the inside of your skin, ripping apart your organs to make room. For so long, you'd been hiding from your real feelings towards Sirius, and he'd crashed like a bulldozer through your fortress of denial.

There was still hatred, and plenty of it. Judgement and confusion and jealousy, but there was more lurking beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity to breech your icy exterior. And now that it had, you couldn't seem to get your hands around it, to push it back down into the dark corners of your heart where it came from.

There was only one thing you could think of to ease the agony of it, the onslaught of feeling. So you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him with every ounce of raw energy you possessed, pouring into him like a waterfall.

He moaned against your mouth, crushing you between the wall and himself as he let you dominate the kiss, your tongue wrestling with his. You felt the tension unwind from his shoulders, his body giving completely to yours, and it set your blood on fire. There was something so honest about it, so vulnerable, and it made you want to swallow him whole, bundle him up behind your ribs where no one could ever take him from you.

He shifted one of his knees between your legs, the heat of your core pressed against his jeans, and you gasped at the friction. His free hand fell to your hip, gripping hard as he guided you to move back and forth.

“Doesn’t it feel so much better to let go?” He cooed in your ear, the cold tip of his nose brushing along the shell of it. “To let yourself have what you really want?”

“Sirius,” you whined, rocking your hips over his thigh, desperate for some relief from the chaos in your soul.

“Shh, love. It’s alright.” He kissed down your neck, finding the fading mark he'd left and latching onto it, bringing it back to life as you writhed in his arms. “I know it's a lot, but I'm with you. I've got you.”

Something in your chest settled, soothed by his gentle words, and you felt a sharp twist of guilt because of it. Sirius was supposed to make you angry, not comfort you. Not make you feel like he was the only thing holding your shattered pieces together.

Like he cared about you.

“She was here a minute ago! I'm sure she just stepped outside to—”

“You had one fucking job, Rosier—”

Thorfinn.

Your heart dropped through the frozen ground, fear making your stomach flip. Even worse, in the same instant, Sirius vanished, leaving you alone and vulnerable.

“What’s your problem, mate? She's an adult,” James argued, and your throat closed with panic.

Something nudged at your hand and you looked down, nearly crying out in surprise when you realized an enormous, black dog was sitting at your feet. It nosed your palm again, loosing a soft whine.

Stunned silent, you scratched at the dogs ears and it leaned into your hand, tail thumping on the snow covered ground. It whined again, licking at your wrist, and suddenly it clicked.

The dog was Sirius.

“Y/n!” Thorfinn bellowed, and you hurried out of the alley, canine-Sirius on your heels.

“I'm right here! What's going on?” You asked, feigning confusion. “Thor, I thought you were staying at Hogwarts?”

You saw James’ eyes flick down to the dog, widening slightly before regaining composure.

“It shouldn't take you three hours to shop for books,” your brother snarled, and you flinched. “We're leaving.”

A dark snarl ripped from Sirius when Thorfinn grabbed your wrist, and your brother recoiled.

“What are you doing with a mutt?” Thorfinn spit, but you saw the fear bleed into his eyes. He hated dogs, ever since your childhood spaniel had nipped at him from playing too rough.

Sirius growled again, fangs bared and hackles raised.

“That's why I came outside, just wanted to see if he had a home or—”

“Stupid girl, it probably has mange. Do you want to get bitten?” Thorfinn shook you and the other boys all barked in protest, but Thorfinn ignored them. Onlookers were starting to gather.

Sirius’ jaws snapped together like a gunshot, a warning, but you stepped between them, knowing Sirius wouldn’t risk you getting caught in the middle of a fight.

“Yes, you're right. It was silly. Let's go back to Hogwarts, it's freezing out here,” you said, starting to steer Thorfinn away before he caused a bigger scene.

“Wait, y/n,” Evan started, but you sent him a pointed glare, and he snapped his jaw shut.

You turned back around, unable to bear the pained looks on each of their faces, or the way canine-Sirius trembled with anger, hot breath puffing from his snout. James and Regulus were holding him by the scruff of his neck, clearly struggling to keep him from running after you.

When you arrived back in the common room, half-frozen from the long walk and emotionally exhausted from Thorfinn’s never-ending lecture, you spotted Rabastan writing at the one of the tables.

You looked straight ahead, a tear rolling down your cheek, and let Thorfinn lead you away.

A confusing jumble of guilt and longing knotted up your stomach. How could you be glad to see him after all that with Sirius? What was wrong with you?

Rabastan looked up, feeling your gaze, and offered an endearing half-smile, until he noticed your shivering, then Thorfinn’s hold on you, and his expression fell into a frigid calm.

He rose and met you halfway across the room, and Thorfinn stiffened at your side. “I didn't expect you back so soon. Where’s Rosier?” Rabastan asked.

“Hogsmeade,” Thor answered, attempting to shoulder past Rab with you in tow.

Rab blocked his way, raising a dark brow. “Did you fetch her from Hogsmeade?”

“It's none of your fucking business, Lestrange,” Thor bit, and a chill raced down your spine. Thor must have lost his damn mind to speak to Rabastan Lestrange like that.

Rab cocked his head, contemplative as a raven, then looked down at you, the ice in his eyes melting a fraction. “Did you get everything you needed, darling?” He asked, his voice noticeably warmer.

Your eyes widened, and Thor’s grip on your hand tightened. You should lie, say ‘yes, of course! I was starting to get cold anyways!’, but with that look in Rab's eye, his all consuming authority, you just couldn't. And, a bitter part of you wanted to see Thor get knocked down a peg.

“Well, I—”

“Yes or no, love,” Rab cut you off.

You felt your skin heat, your blood start to race at his specific brand of dominance. God, you really were fucked up. Getting turned on by two different guys in the span of an hour? You shook yourself. This is what you were supposed to feel towards Rab. Sirius was the anomaly, not the other way around.

“Yes, she did,” Thor answered for you

Rabastan’s expression froze over once more, his gaze cutting like a scythe. “Leave us,” Rab ordered.

Thor’s hand tightened, one of your knuckles popping with a sharp burst of pain, and you suppressed a gasp. “Absolutely not,” Thor snarled, stepping closer to Rab, chest puffed. Thorfinn was a huge man, there was no question, but Rab was hardly a shrinking violet at 6’2, packed with muscle from training with his brother.

“It wasn't a request, Rowle,” Rab replied, the clip of his voice sharp. “Come, y/n. We're going back to Hogsmeade.”

A trill of nervous excitement pulsed through you, but it was quickly dashed when Thor opened his mouth again.

“Until there is a ring on her fucking finger, you have no authority over her.” Thor's grip continued to grow tighter, and a hiss escaped through your teeth, tears springing to your eyes.

Of course, Rabastan saw. He reached around to his back and slipped his wand from where it was tucked along his spine, but Thor was too focused on looking big to notice.

“You misunderstand, Rowle,” Rab said, his voice dripping with venom. “My authority doesn't come from a ring, or brawn, or even my name.” Rab stepped closer, coiled like a snake, and his wand came up, the tip digging into the underside of Thor’s chin. “I fucking earned it,” he growled.

Thor froze, his hand immediately releasing yours. Thor was no slouch with a wand, and Dueling was one of the only subjects he actually excelled in, but there was no competing with Lestrange magic. Rabastan could hit him with the imperius curse before Thor even reached for his wand.

On instinct, you took a few steps away from Thor, moving behind Rabastan, and you saw outrage bleed into your brother's blue eyes. You would almost feel bad about the humiliation he was experiencing if you weren't fairly certain he'd broken your finger.

Slowly, Thor put his hands up, lowering his eyes like a welped dog, and Rabastan lowered his wand.

“Remember this,” Rab muttered, tucking the wand back into his belt, the dark wood fitting perfectly along the muscular dip of his spine.

Thor backed away, fleeing from the common room while the eavesdropping Slytherin’s giggled.

Rab turned to you, looking apologetic. “Would you like to return to Hogsmeade? Or rest?” His eyes snagged on the hand you were cradling against your chest and he frowned. Cautiously, he guided your injured hand into his own, inspecting the blooming bruise and swelling around your knuckles with a slight furrow in his brow. “To the infirmary, then.”

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile.

“Carrow,” he called, still inspecting your hand with profound gentleness.

Amacus and Alecto Carrow appeared on either side of you, materializing like wraiths.

“Yes?” Amacus drawled, hawkish eyes flicking down to your hand, then back up to Rabastan.

“I want Thorfinn in the Room for Requirement. I'll meet you there in an hour or so,” Rab ordered, shifting once again into that glacial, brutal calm, and you saw then what the Dark Lord saw in him and his brother. Men with a command that could raze the world. An intoxicating kind of power.

Fear and excitement twined in your chest, and your feet couldn't decide whether to step closer, or run the fuck away. You didn't even think to protest the capture and imminent beating of your twin.

He deserved it and then some.

The Carrows nodded and moved towards the door.

“And Amacus,” Rab called, and the boy turned. “Mind his wand.”

Amacus nodded, and the twins slipped out of the dungeon.

Rab turned his attention back to you. “Are you alright, darling? Besides your hand?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling bashful. “I can't believe he spoke to you like that,” you murmured. “He's lost his mind.”

Rab smirked. “I'll set him straight, don't you worry.” He threaded your arm through his and laid your injured hand over his bicep. “Let's get you to Madame Pomfry, hm?”

Together, you walked down to the infirmary, speaking softly to one another about nothing in particular. With Rab, it was easy. You could just let go, and he would buoy you along. No confusing feelings, no responsibilities.

The path laid in stone was so much easier to traverse than the one that veered off into the unknown, thick with brambles and thorns and tripping roots.

“Master Lestrange!” Madame Pomfry called when you walked in. “Oh dear, Ms. Rowle. Come sit, come sit.” She ushered you both towards a curtained bed, seeming to understand intrinsically that you were not to be separated from him.

“I don't believe they're broken,” Rab supplied. “But seem to be causing quite a bit of discomfort.”

“I'm sure it is. What happened, poppet?” Pomfry asked, assessing your injured hand under the lamp.

“I slipped on ice in Hogsmeade this afternoon,” you answered, voice cracking from pain when she prodded the bruising. Rab pet your head to soothe you, and unconsciously, you leaned into him.

“Poor girl. You were right to bring her here,” she said to Rab, who gave her a charming half-smile. “But I have just the thing to get you sorted in a jiffy.” She hurried away, flushing under Rab’s keen eye.

“I'm alright if you need to go, ah, tend to things,” you said, cringing at your awkwardness.

He leaned down to kiss the top of your head, sending sparks rushing through your body. “I'm tending to you first,” he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Madame Pomfry returned with a handful of potions and salves. “Here, drink this. It'll taste wretched, but alleviate the pain.” She handed you a vial and you glanced up at Rab.

He dipped his chin in encouragement, and you tipped the vial into your mouth. You gagged almost immediately, but managed to keep it down. Already, the pain was beginning to fade.

Madame Pomfry spread some other salves on your fingers, then wrapped them tightly in white gauze. “You'll have to stay for a tick, just to make sure you have no adverse reactions. A half hour should do,” she said, patting your knee before closing the curtain and flitting off to another students bed.

Rab glanced at the closed curtain, then back at you. “Would you like to be alone?” He asked, his eyes searching your face.

You found yourself shaking your head, a pang of fear making you reach out for him with your good hand. “Can you stay until I get back to my dorm?” You asked, the request slipping out before you even formulated the thought.

He took your hand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I'll escort you there myself,” he said, smoothing a thumb over your knuckles, the silver signet ring there heavy and warm from his skin. “I hate to see you so frightened,” he murmured, meeting your eyes.

You almost told him that your weren't afraid, that everything was fine, but again, you couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. “I feel less afraid with you,” you said. Guilt made your tongue burn as you said the words, but they were true.

Sirius was a risk, a tight rope walk through the stars, where Rab was solid ground, sturdy and sure. You felt torn between them, floating in purgatory.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He reached up, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers before sliding them into your hair. “Because I find myself struggling to stay away for you.”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding as he drew you closer.

“You're trembling,” he breathed, close enough that you could smell the peppermint on his breath. “Are you frightened now, little doe?”

You nodded. You were frightened by the way your body seemed to gravitate towards him, caught in his orbit like a wayward comet. Frightened that you felt the same draw toward someone else, and what that meant about you. About them.

Frightened, so frightened, but also excited.

“Breathe, darling,” he cooed, his hand moving down to lightly press against your pulse, fingers resting on the mark Sirius left behind, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. He tipped your chin up with his thumb, leaving the smallest gap between your lips, breaths mingling between you.

“Rab,” you whispered, a plea. For what, you weren't sure.

He closed the final centimeter, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lush kiss. It felt luxurious somehow, breathtakingly tender, and you found yourself leaning into him, wanting more. His tongue dragged against your lower lip and you parted for him without thought, letting him delve deeper, savor you like fine wine.

With Sirius, every touch, every kiss was an inferno, a clashing of wills, but with Rab, it was a warming glow, a safe embrace.

His tongue toyed with yours, gentle, almost teasing until you were practically purring, coaxed into docility. But too soon, he broke the kiss so you could breathe, somehow sensing the tightness in your lungs. He brushed kisses along your cheek, your temple, before taking a deep, satisfied breath.

“Better than I dared hope for,” he murmured, bumping his nose against yours. “Perfection.”

The haze of bliss around you splintered, cold reality slipping through the cracks.

If only he knew how far from perfect you were.

“Come, let me escort you to your dorm, if you're feeling alright?” He straightened, taking a quick inventory of your face and injured hand.

“Yes, please,” was all you could manage, your chest suddenly tight with discomfort, your stomach clenching with guilt.

He helped you to your feet and you walked in silence back to your room, the air between you laden with unspoken things, though Rab seemed decidedly more content. The image of a cat with a mouse flitted through your mind, and you almost recoiled from him.

Sirius didn't look at you like that. Like a trophy to claim, a town to pillage. If anything, he seemed to be wrecked by you.

The thought made your stomach turn, and you were relieved to finally reach the dungeons. He bid you farewell at the foot of the stairs to the girls dorm, kissing you on the cheek before taking his leave.

You trudged up the stairs, completely exhausted and twice as confused as when you woke up that morning. You stopped dead when you saw a brown paper package tied up with string resting on the end of your bed. None of your roommates were in, probably at the Great Hall having dinner.

Cautiously, you tiptoed closer, finding a small card attached to the string. You flipped it open to see a note scribbled in a messy, loping hand.

You win.

It was signed with a massive, black ink paw print.

Heart in your throat, you unwrapped the package. Inside was your shopping list, every item crossed off, and a stack of books beneath it.

Sirius had finished your shopping for you.

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as you pressed the note to your chest, overwhelmed with a feeling you could only describe as grief.

Thank you so much for reading!

You shoved the books under your bed and curled up on top of the quilt, tracing the shape of the paw print with your finger tip, memorizing each crack and detail until your eyelids grew heavy and you drifted into a fitful sleep.

>Part One

Thank you for reading!

Comment below if you'd like to be included in a taglist for the next parts!

[batmanlovesnirvana]

SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DC FANDOM (please read)

I’m making this post even though she (@/hyunnjiin) blocked me, since she REFUSES to take accountability after being called out. This is also for the DC FANDOM because it needs to be addressed.

(I hate doing this—honestly, I’ve never done it before—but I can’t just sit back and let her have the last word.)

I saw her post, and yes, I’m calling it out because it’s not only unnecessary but incredibly immature. She’s a 24-year-old woman wasting her time stirring up drama on Tumblr of all places over something that could’ve easily been avoided.

For reference, here’s the post in question:

I’m making this to set the record straight because I’m beyond tired of the nonsense she’s been pulling.

Instead of taking accountability, she’s been blocking anyone calling her out, deleting replies, and only keeping the ones kissing up to her. So, here it is.

Let me be clear: I don’t mind criticism—it comes with the territory when you’re a writer—but this? This felt personal. It was personal.

First off, she’s been playing games. She reblogged her own post like 20 times, replied to people, and pinned it to her blog.

Then she changed her bio, and started deleting replies—including mine—and even changed the name to "Aurora." Her excuse? Oh, it wasn’t about my fic, just the first name that came to mind (sure, Jan 🙄). Then she wiped everything again, switched back to "Maryam," and only replied to comments that agreed with her.

"It's best to ignore it," she says, then reblogs it 20 times.

Then she went nuclear—deleting all replies AGAIN, including hers and mine, and apparently even my reblogs where I was trying to explain myself (didn’t even know that was possible, but here we are). The post was suddenly full of new replies, and guess what? She’s only responding to those who are hyping her up. Now she blocked me and a mutual—because, apparently, accountability isn’t her thing. Deleted our comments again, only left the ones agreeing with her, and turned off the comments entirely.

It’s SO weird. 

What’s even crazier is that more people are jumping on this train, leaving comments hyping her up like she didn’t just twist everything and censor anyone who disagreed. The whole situation is so idiotic to fight over, but for a 23 year old woman, she’s acting ridiculously immature. Why she’s been switching things up this much, I’ll never know.

And yes, I wish I had taken more screenshots of the original mess because it was absolutely bizarre, but thankfully, some lovely mutuals saw it all go down.

Now some context to everyone who agreed and interacted with her: My fic was originally a x reader in my drafts, but I changed it to feature Maryam because I wanted to introduce more North African/Middle Eastern representation into the fandom.

I wanted to inspire others to do the same, especially considering the Islamophobia and anti-Arab/Muslim hate that’s so often present in this space. 

So, I thought, why not?

Maryam means a lot to me—both as an immigrant and as a woman of color. Especially to Arabs/Middle Eastern or Muslims in general, given the current climate where they’re constantly facing prejudice, stereotypes, and discrimination. I live in a country where they’re not exactly welcomed.

There’s so much negativity surrounding us/them—both in the real world and online. 

It’s hard to feel seen or understood, especially when you’re already carrying so much weight.

Seeing that post and watching it get reblogged so many times—now with over 100 people agreeing with her—reallyupset me. Honestly, it hurt. A lot.

I write as a way to escape, but more importantly, to raise awareness about issues that have affected me and the world around us. It’s my way of shedding light on things that matter—things that have impacted me and others—and it really hurts when it feels like that’s being dismissed.

Maryam is kind of a love letter to anyone who sees pieces of themselves in her because that’s the whole point—she’s meant to be you. 

Fandoms were supposed to be a refuge—a place to connect with others who share your passion, to feel safe and accepted. But too often, they become spaces where that sense of belonging is challenged. It’s heartbreaking when something meant to bring joy and solidarity only seems to amplify the hurt.

I'm an amateur writer sharing my fanfiction for free because I love writing, enjoy seeing others enjoy it, and yes, I want to be noticed—not for the attention, but for the feedback. 

I thrive on seeing others engage with my work. If I don't promote it, nobody will see it, and then I'll lose my motivation. 

And if you don’t like it, you’re free to block me or, even better, filter your tags—something I do most of the time, because I’m mature enough not to make a whole post about it to draw attention to myself or, most importantly, spread hate to a writer.

The amount of times I’ve seen ships in the Batman x reader tags, Batman x OC tags, or just the Battinson or Batman tags that I don’t like, and yet I’ve never made a whole post dragging someone’s fic down just to prove some point or gain attention.

Now, I’m honestly unsure whether I should just unpublish the fic, delete it, or whatever. The hate was/is a bit overwhelming.

Like I said, I wrote this story as a way to escape... AGAIN, maybe I’m being too sensitive, but seeing so many people agreeing with her really felt like a punch in the gut. I was planning to publish it yesterday—I had the whole week off and was so excited to write since I had time on my hands—but now? I’m not so sure anymore.

I do want to thank the people who defended me and sent me messages. It means more than you know.

Thanks to anyone who took the time to read the whole post. 

I’m tagging everyone who’s been interacting with her post so they can finally see the full picture—especially since my last reblog keeps mysteriously disappearing : @mouthfullobats @hwasflower @fangxout @cynniee @crying-inside-lol @obamasbababoy @kiit-ty @himesuedi @lkanggie @navs-bhat @verfuz @wispywisteria-blog @v5b5

I’m sure there’s a lot more but these are the only ones I took screenshots of.

[hermitcraftx]

the only reason dream everrrr had a platform or was popular is bc everyone made thirst traps of. his blond fake sona for years (he has fucking BROWN HAIR???) and then when he revealed he was a pedophile creepy weirdo right after he revealed his face everyone that made a career making daddy dream manhunt NSFW didn't stop blogging because some people would fuck steaming piles of human garbage if it was white and had abs. like every dream stan I've ever met is perpetually living in 2021 and dream is too and if that's not the biggest sign of the world's most colossal fumble I don't know what is. genuinely the only talent dream has is being uncannily manipulative and vague to try and get away with everything and play the victim later on after he says genuine rancid dogshit but he's not even the best at that. genuinely he's the definition of a career made by other people and if he thinks for a second his little white suburban fake redneck yuppy mr beast wannabe that he's going to successfully be a right wing grifter after being known as the gogy wogy uwu yaoi queerbait streamer (and yes I do think he's genuinely the ONLY real person that word applies to) then he's fucking insane. ain't nobody fucks with him. he's a footnote in Minecraft history. the worst people alive in the community don't fuck with him. tommyinnit is having tea with jacksepticeye and doing comedy shows and having fun with all the remaining good internet ogs and regularly pulling lots of views meanwhile the only way dream stays relevant out of his cesspool wretch infested pedophile apologist echo chamber that is his fanbase is regularly triggering dsmp drama to feel sorry for himself. can't do manhunt without cheating and it wasn't even an original idea another abuser took that from him can't do an smp tommyinnit made that for him it really seems to me on a psychological level that to a degree some of that cdream shit wasn't roleplay because dream knew the most memorable part of the biggest part of his career would be tommyinnit forever and always. and now he has to fight for tommyinnit beef scraps saying slurs and shit when he's not even involved getting way too comfortable after Trump gets elected when tommy barely pays him more mind than he paid Logan Paul when he WORKED with dream for YEARS. tommyinnit gets to be known as the man who fostered love and care for his fan base, an all around good person and joy to be around and a ray of light in the dark space that is the mcyt space, and a guy never backed down on his morals and ethics whereas dreams only claim to fame now are being a cheating bigoted ableist creepy pedophile-esque freak with no concept of proper boss/employee conduct or creator/fan conduct with a Republican bastard and a sexual assaulter as friends who was seen as mildly hot by teenagers in 2021 without y'know being able to comprehend you're not supposed to reciprocate. and I know it keeps him up at night because otherwise he wouldn't try and regain relevancy by starting shit with Tommy every 6 months. is it because tommy is an adult now, clay??? when people look back on fond memories of fandom in 20-30 years not a single person will be able to look at anything dream has been apart of without grimacing not even his fans because I know all those arguments on behalf of a nasty ass pervert will not be fond memories. the only original thing he's done is say the r slur- oh wait. I mean groom minors- oh wait. I mean be a bigoted racist- oh wait. I mean have gross misconduct with a fan- oh wait. I mean start drama a lot in hopes of getting attention- oh wait. genuinely the most pathetic shadow nothingburger ass of a man I've ever seen in my life may dogs eat his face off in the middle of the night.

[curlysfist]

any thoughts on yandere curly? loved your husband curly fic by the way!

Yandere Curly Headcanons

Synopsis: Headcanons broadly brushing over a very obsessed and abusive Curly. Adjacent to the wifebeater fic I wrote of him. (tw: abuse, manipulation, coercion, the yandere rigamarole. minors DNI. No crash AU + Anya was never SA'd. Unedited)

Word Count: 0.8k

Notes: Thoughts? Nonnie, I have a whole dissertation for you!

Curly would be incredibly not self aware in terms of his manipulation and incredibly abusive. Physically.

Very big on the idea of discipline so you remember what not to do. Especially if you open up about abuse you went through under that context, he'd be confused why you're so upset about it. It just adds to his infantilized version of you in his head that you just don't know what's good for you.

Having chronically been a leader for most of his career and personal life, he would never see you as a lifelong partner but more so a beautiful responsibility to carry. Something more dignified than a pet but not entirely human. You flail, cry, and speak without complete understanding of the world around you and it's just so cute!

He'd trap you in some way in his house. Not explicitly kidnapping with chains and shit but is not above baby-trapping you and/or putting in a bad word or two about you at work (as I imagine he met you through a job post Pony Express/during Pony Express), have you fired, and pressure you to bum out in his house.

Molds you to be a perfect housewife. Since you're not working, you can clean and cook, right? If you don't know how, he can teach you! But jeez, how did you take care of yourself before? Before him?

He is incredibly deluded to the idea that you might be distressed for a meaningful reason. He loves you sincerely, and that's where a lot of arguments start and end: of course he has to beat you, how else will those lessons be learned without emulated consequence? Of course he keeps you home, do you know what people do to women outside the safety of owned property? Have you seen the rape and murder statistics? And what do you even need from outside? Just go to the backyard with him or order stuff online with his card.

Admittedly a very good gaslighter. Not even intentional. His brain lives in a reality and perceives the things he does as entirely fair and you're drawn into it too. I mean, he has propped himself as an absolute authority. Whether you like it or not, his word is law.

While ironically he for the most part does respect your consent when it comes to physical intimacy. Kisses and hugs/cuddling are excluded.

Does not humor any desire for personal space in bed when it's time to sleep. Will hold you. No questions asked. Any attempt to pry away is met with a flex of his arms as he holds you tighter.

And does expect kisses before work and after work, and whenever he initiates or he will be grumpy and a tad bit colder. Just a tad.

Should've mentioned that he would've married you at some point. Isn't above eloping and coercing you to sign the right paperwork and delivering it by himself to make it official if he can't trust you in the marriage offices despite his supervision.

Does reward you for good behavior though! Expensive physical goods or the rare trip outside if you're being very cooperative. Or just asks what you'd like.

Once he feels very secure in everything, he'd introduce you to Jimmy, who at this point has been VERY curious about you since Curly has pretty much been MIA except for texts or the occasional calls.

Curly does NOT bring him around ever again though because he now recognizes how shameless Jimmy is with eyeing women. Or you in particular. Especially since you're a forbidden good.

If you, in any way, reciprocate with Jimmy's subtle comments, Curly WILL have a few things to say to you. Privately. And subsequently punished. Because you were acting like a whore in heat.

Speaking of, his punishments will always be beating because of his philosophy of punishment and immediate physical consequence. He will not starve you or isolate you or do anything that might have consequences out of his control. If he can't guide you through it, he won't do it.

Often uses the belt. Slapping if you're talking back.

Does coo at you and coddles you after a beating and after you cried it out. He gets antsy and rushes in too soon though, and it really does fuck up your brain, him soothing you after these events.

And it really is a cycle of using his authority, inducing anxiety and beating you when you make a mistake that really does fuck you up. And being that he's literally the only person in your life now and you feel as though it's too late to reach out to someone on your heavily monitored devices, Stockholm syndrome kicks in sooner than later and now, it's like you see what he sees, and it's so much more romantic and warmer.

You come to love him, though never as much as he loves you.

[kenhowler2004]

Haven't been in the mood to illustrate since June of last year so I decided to give it a shot via Gacha Life 2 for the bases of it.

But for the explanation of colors tying to my magic system: Pink is usually associated with spirits, thunder magic, and immortality. If your not a spirit but a living being your considered an immortality seeker or immortal. Considering Cyana is Canonically the spirit of the moon in Mr Seymour's work, she would be part of the ocean of spirits.

Blue is often associated with frost magic, illusion spells, and perceptions. Often used as a way to hide or disguise one's self or a search to change how they're seen. Because of the moon's ties to the tides and lasting winter Cyana's blue hues give her a natural touch to the frostier side of blue magics and illusions to hide better should she go undercover.

White is associated with Radiant magic, Shields, Druidry, and Futures. While scarce in the design it still gives her access to any potentially radiance her celestial origins might bestow upon her and her abilities to summon shields should that still be cannon.

Yellow is tethered strongly to Healing, Transmutation, and luck. The yellow while still able to exist winds up being far more prominent due to Cyana's ability to transform between her Elven self and the slime moon rabbit form. Often tethered to luck and joy because "good things come in a winter's yellow moon" is a common saying in the northern parts of my world. Most rabbit like beast that do tend to survive are often yellow as well. Though there are legends of those betrayed and destroyed hearts turning into these yellow rabbit beasts.

And finally Purple is bound to Psychic magic, Divination, Destinies, Space, and the wish to hide true intentions. While seemingly more dark, this is implemented for the more psychic like things and spacial aspects.

I couldn't remember if there was Green in the original design by Seymour but now that I can see it as I type this I will add why this was probably skipped besides failed memory. Green is associated to Lightning magic, Enchantment, deep oceans, change, and isolation. Cyana at most would have green if I did remember it but because of its ties to things we have not yet witnessed from her (lightning magic, the ability to enchant, and being completely utterly alone) it oddly doesn't feel correct for the color to be placed upon her.

Colors that were skipped entirely were Red, Orange, Indigo, and Black. Colors that mean lack of are Brown and Grey (often associated with depression, unimportance, and destruction of heart and soul).

So surprisingly Cyana even in base design can smoothly translate into my world, just be careful Incase she gets electrical or enchanting surges.

Go for it 🫵🏻👁️👁️🫵🏻

[thetepes]

so gen question i hope doenst come across as offensive, but in your bio you say you dont like how the topic of lily is discussed and thats why you made ur blog. but it seems like you're agreeing with the other blogs in the lily-sphere uncritically. so which ones were you initially frustrated with, and what was the behavior you found so wrong in the first place?

I also think the lily hating has long since crossed over into lolcowing, to the extent that its very difficult to imagine real accountability is possible anymore. I agree with the stance you take in a lot of your posts, and then i see you reblogging and agreeing with the worst offenders in the lily sphere so like. have you changed your mind?

Look, I'm upset right now so excuse me if I'm terse, but I've REPEATEDLY and VERY LOUDLY admonished people for not giving a shit about her racism and homophobic bullshit.

I am extremely critical of who I reblog because there are plenty of people in this space who are just in it for the attention and bants, I've not been shy about that. I refuse to even follow people who post worthless shit.

I know you mean Sai, just say Sai. Sai has talked repeatedly about Lily's abuse of Courtney, Britt, in general, her trying to take away both her and Ant's channels, her racism, and her pedo inclinations. She might not cover it in totality on stream or in one big long video, but she doesn't shy from it. She's talked about it on stream.

She's also the only one of 3 people who checked on me behind the scenes after I was racially abused and purposefully triggered. She's also been one of Britt's loudest supporters.

I don't agree with her on a lot, I've openly not agreed with her on a lot. I've told her personally what I don't agree with her on. I've told her she can be out of pocket. She's one of those fun people you can go "Ayo, I disagree." and have a conversation with. There are some things she's just not going to budge on, donkey of a woman, and that's just fine with me.

And let's be fucking real, she's one of few in this space that takes the racism seriously. I've seen what people say. I know they only care until someone cries "You're not focusing on the important topics enough" then they call it "Lily being mean" because maybe six people in this space at most can handle confrontation and their ally ship only extends to the tip of their nose.

The media takes matter because that's where she shows her racism, xenophobia, homophobia, and pedophile inclinations the most. She couldn't even review hamtaro without making it weird with adding incest and sexualizing a literal baby hamster. Going over the media takes shouldn't be the main focus, but it serves a very good purpose.

My aim on here was to talk about her racism. It matters. Even if it's just me screaming about it in this godforsaken space, it matters. I'm tired of racism being given a free pass because it's progressive to hate asians and fetishize anyone darker than tea stain on teeth. I'm tired, as a CSA survivor, of the shit she's made like The MLP pedophile rape game getting a free pass.

I'm tired of people like you pretending none of this matters anymore because there was no big Lily left the internet blow up. That's not how things work most of the time, sorry. People like her and Birdie and Patricia and any of the other people I've mentioned on here don't take accountability and the police don't give a shit about online crimes most of the time. I'd know, I was blamed by them for being groomed as a kid and told I wanted it because I went in those spaces.

All we can do is keep pointing it out, supporting victims, and raising awareness of not just Lily, but other people like her that just will not face the justice their victims deserve while trying to mitigate harm. If you don't want to be a part of that, fine. Harm reduction is work and it's work you will not be acknowledged for. My advice is curate your experience like an adult. That's the healthiest and happiest way to live your life online and off.

So no, I've not changed my mind.

[trulyradicalactivist]

My name is Act. I use She/They/It/Neo pronouns. I have been a radqueer since the original coming, and a part of the pro-para and proship communities before that. This is not a usual pinned post. This is a letter to my community. This blog is designed to support, uplift, and announce all forms of activism for our community and encourage each one of you to begin the revolution. For our identities, for our pride, and for our loved ones.

My call to action is under the cut. I ask you to take the time to read it. Thank you.

For too long, we’ve lived in the shadows of a world that dismisses, marginalizes, and oppresses us. Many wouldn't say oppression. Many downplay what we go through, saying that we’re just trolls taking up minimal space in the digital era. But we have been oppressed. In our own spaces, we’ve had civil wars, fighting over one thing or another, specifically designed to divide us! In spaces beyond our community, we’ve faced not only hostility, but outright discrimination. Told to kill ourselves by cowards who hide behind anonymity, many people who simply desired to be themselves, driven to suicide. Are you not angry? Are you not driven to the brink by what these people have done to us, justified by hatred and misinformation? I'm angry!

We’ve carried the weight of a world that refuses to see us for who we are, and we’ve endured the pain of invisibility and injustice. I refuse to accept that the identities in this community will endure that pain any longer. No more.

This is a call to every single one of you. Whether you’ve been part of this community for years or you’re just now finding your voice, know this: you are not alone. Our strength lies in our connection, our shared experiences, and our collective will to change the minds of people who hate us, to educate, to bring a new era of peace where radqueer is the norm. Everyone thinks the future is radqueer, and I agree, but to make it that way, it takes a community willing to change the present.

We need community and we need action. Not later, not tomorrow, not yesterday, the time hasn't passed and it isn't coming towards us. The time is now.

In the digital age, our voices can and do echo across the world. Activism is not just a tool; it’s a lifeline. It’s where we educate, organize, and amplify. Share your stories, challenge injustice, and build networks of solidarity. Every post, every comment, every shared resource matters. Together, we can flood people’s minds with truth and resistance. We can make a new tomorrow.

But I also recognize the power of individual action, even in isolation. Real life protest does not always mean marching in the streets; it can mean standing firm in your truth, no matter where you are. Writing “radqueer is the future” on a desk, on a bathroom wall. Scattering posters, flyers, stickers in the streets, putting them on benches in parks or sticking them into lamp posts.

Resistance is not a singular act—it’s a lifestyle. It’s choosing, every day, to reject the narratives that tell us we’re less than. It’s refusing to be silent in the face of oppression. It’s demanding change, even when the odds seem insurmountable, and believe me, they certainly seem impossible, but I promise you. They aren't. We have done this before, we will do it again, and again, and again, until we need not fight anymore.

Let’s not forget why we fight. We fight for the right to exist as we are. We fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. We fight for future generations, so they won’t have to endure what we have. And most importantly, we fight because we believe in a world where justice and equality are not ideals but realities.

So, here’s what I ask of you. A few actions, if nothing else.

Be loud. Use your platform, no matter how small, to speak out. Share resources or even create them, talk about your stories, and call others to action. Scream from the rooftops who you are, what you live for, what you fight for.

Be relentless. Don’t let apathy or exhaustion silence you. Take breaks when you need them, but never lose sight of the goal. I know. I know people who hate us break you down, try to make you tired, ruin your mental health. Take breaks. Always take that time for yourself. But a fight waits for nobody, so feel in your heart, even while you aren't fighting, we are. We’re fighting for you.

Be united. This community has shown itself to be a magnet for division, but do you expect to fight while shooting at those fighting with you? Differences in belief aside, differences in opinion on the future, what should be, what shouldn't be, who shouldn't and who should, put them away. We can come back to discuss those when the future isn't against us, when the enemy has laid to rest and we have made a life with them, where they do not want us dead or wish harm upon us. But for now, they do. Together, we are stronger than any force that seeks to divide us, so put away your issues with the person beside you and find that two make a better fight than one ever could.

Be bold. Challenge the status quo, whether it’s online, in your workplace, or in your personal relationships. Change starts with discomfort, and progress begins when we confront what’s wrong. A picrew says radqueer’s aren't allowed to use it? Use it. Make it your profile picture. Do it with flags. Identities. Terms. Pictures. Anything that says you, because of your identity and your beliefs, aren't allowed to use it. Anything that wants to oppress you. Do not accept it.

This is our moment. This is our fight. And we will not stop until the world hears us, sees us, and respects us. I will fight. I will fight for you, for this community, for all of us with identities we cannot share for fear of our income, our lives, our safety.

Justice is what I fight for. What do you fight for? Your family, your friends, the people you love? The right and ability to be yourself? To express yourself the way you desire to? To have the right to change your race, age, gender, species, anything at all, in the court of law? Do you fight for anarchy, for revolution, to tear down the status quo? Then fight.

The revolution begins with us—and it begins now.