#credit union blog

[safyresky]

CONTEXT FOR ANYONE WHO READS MINE TAGS/IS WONDERING WHY I'VE BEEN QUIET. ER. THAN USUAL

December/January has been WILDIN. In an attempt to establish boundaries that has backfired so hard it spiralled so out of control it exploded, I have made approximately SEVEN (7) trips up and down to see my family/parents IN A ROW. And while SOME of them were day trips or take-the-GO trips, it was still EXHAUSTING.

Here is a full, chronological list of trips up:

Dec 8: Went to visit to help with Christmas decor help/cousin's bday; ended up helping with house clean up (no decorating D:)

Dec 15: Day trip for Aunt's 60th bday. We took the GO. There were DELAYS. This never happens on our line.

My aunt invited ALL HER FRIENDS. This made it doubly exhausting.

(but she had a lovely time and was so glad we came up and told us as much)

Dec 21-22: Everyone got sick post my aunt's 60th bday; went down to help take care of the sickos and the house and fix dishwashers because BOTH OF THE DISHWASHERS AT MY PARENT'S PLACE BROKE THAT WEEKEND, ON TOP OF THEM BOTH BEING SICK AND MY SISTER CATCHING IT AS WELL!

They were all VERY bad off, actually. My Dad was in emerge for the day to try and get his immune system under control--mans is asthmatic and OLD (he's okay now he has a follow up THIS WEEK to make sure whatever tf they got was cleared and for a fresh ventalin he hopes)

Dec 25: Christmas day trip (worth it to not have to stay with grumpy mum and dad all day post dealing with grumpy aunties

one aunt (not the one who turned 60) made me want to bite when she insulted my brother to mine face--very rude, ma'am. It's christmas and he's trying ok. shut up.)

Dec 28-29: Went to Niagara to see the lights with granny and fam and also eat at a restaurant my Gran really, really likes

(The Barrel. If you're ever in the Port Colborne/Niagara area. GO. The wings are fucking SUPERB).

This was a HARDER weekend bc Richard was working so he couldn't come down with me and my mother was HELLA gaslighting/being "sneaky" and trying to delay my time to stay longer despite me wanting to go to my ding dang HOUSE that I LIVE IN with my CAT and my HUSBANDO. GAH

I did not stay extra despite being on winter break lmao I went tf home THAT NIGHT. BOUNDARIES. AHHHH,,,,

Jan 4-5: My sister's b-day. Down FRIDAY NIGHT FOR MORNING FESTIVITIES

(fun but man. EXHAUSTING. Saw Moana 2 tho! Was a good movie, could be better but I sups enjoyed it)

Jan 12: cousin cribmas-pushed-to-new-years! THANKFULLY I had today at home but spent most of the afternoon cooking since it's a potluck and I like making food for people. And also cooking with Richard. Which is no surprise lmao I wouldn't have married the man if I didn't like doing things with him 🥰🥰🥰🥰

We ALSO went out for New Years, but that was up North with some friends so even though it WAS an extra travel day, (making for EIGHT TRIPS in this general direction, ish), it was with FRIENDS so, y'know, it was a DELIGHT. I've never seen Richard so relaxed and oh my GOD it was SO NICE to have a snowy new year!! Also, there were dogs. They were cuties. Even the 3 month puppy the size of ME who barked a BUNCH.

Right, so. USUALLY these festivities--the cribmas gathering with the cousins, cribmas itself, and the lights at--Niagara take place within the same week since I get two weeks off during Christmas bc the school is closed, and everyone else's jobs were more predictable.

UNFORTUNATELY this year, everyone's jobs had holiday hours and so we could NOT arrange these things in order.

I didn't want to stay at my folks place on my own for ANY LONGER THAN I NEEDED TO so I opted for day trip on Christmas (since Richard worked Christmas Eve and Boxing Day) and the weekend trips as we planned our usual celebrations when worked best. And I was like "FUCK yeah, staying at home for most of my weekdays off! Doing my own thang!!" but I neglected to think of how EXHAUSTING all those back and forths were bc in my head it seemed like, 3 trips, and that's doable, no prob!

Then the SICKNESS WEEKEND came outta nowhere and we still came down for the bday celebrations prior to that, even if one of them involved taking the GO. We still came all the way down and travel time is big! It's still a LOT, especially when you consider that from my house to my parent's place, it's roughly a three hour journey. LONGER if you go during a high traffic time bc we have to drive THROUGH Toronto.

This is the drive on a map:

As Richard would say: "YEAP. SHE'S A BIGGIN."

We've done this drive so often it's par the course for us. We know the ups and downs, where the cops hide out, most common traffic areas, and WORST times to BE on the highway. That current time? Two hours and thirty-nine minutes? That's on a GOOD DAY with NO TRAFFIC, WHETHER IT BE CONGESTION OR COLLISION CAUSED. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE WEATHER, LORDY. YOU THINK CANADIANS KNOW HOW TO DRIVE IN THE SNOW? THINK AGAIN! EVERY TIME IT SNOWS ASSHOLES ARE DRIVING RECKLESSLY OR OVER CAUTIOUSLY AND IT IS A NIGHTMARE! AH!

Anyway. We've done this trip. In the last month alone. SEVEN TIMES. There and back. That's like, 500km. So when I WAS at home enjoying my time off in, y'know, MY OWN SPACE, I was RECOVERING from the LAST DRIVE. AND THEN IMMEDIATELY DOING IT AGAIN.

"But Dani," you're saying. "How did this come from boundaries being set?"

Well, you see. I said this year I'd come down for Christmas and THAT'S IT.

I was very wrong, buds. Yep!

And yeah, I coulda said NO, and Richard and I did discuss if we wanted to go to the December BDays. We ended up deciding yes and yeah. I have. Some regret. s. ehehehehehhhhhhhh

Needless to say, this is our LAST TRIP DOWN UNTIL MID-FEBRUARY, AND THEN I SHALL GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS, mainly scrimblies and 2025's art goals and of course writing!

January writing goals are: Clifton Part 3, an old smile shot rewrite to spread some LURVE! And finishing the Valentine's oneshot I wanted to post two vdays ago, lmao. Art wise, we got two more scrimbles and then some fun EXPERIMENTS! HEHEHEHEHE. TO DRAW TAG HERE WE COME! We just, haven't had the time/space to do it!

BUT NOW WE WILL! And I haven't forgotten about the results of THIS POLL! ;) Spoiler alert: the winning pick involves the Twin Princes >:)

So YEAH. Presently, I have had a good amount of caffeinated bevvy and am not yet sleeby eepy, so I figured I'd hog dashes, post that poll bc I'm indecisive (and I already figured it out with like, only 2-3 votes lol), and give a little post/update about my me bc sometimes. Sometimes the blog becomes the diary and sometimes u just need to VENT lol

[nicolethered]

Respectfully, my point remains the same: if you build a brand based on activism and when it comes time for your union to strike and your sole contribution has been a single Instagram story and being among the second wave of people to sign on to a strike letter, that’s incredibly limp support.

I’m glad he had the summer off but it was because there was a strike. If I can see nepo babies, Barbie and Colin Farrell out there, I expected to see everyone at least once. And I absolutely was shady about Oscar FINALLY picketing last week too.

I am glad he finally got out there and is showing to be the person that I think he is. And for me, I think part of being in a fandom is holding your favorite accountable.

I'm so glad he is out there living his values. And i am not surprised.

I am also not surprised but disappointed seeing people here say finally, etc.

Can we just remind ourselves we are not privy to what is going on in his or any other celebrity's (or ANYone's) life?

We saw Oscar Issac just last week. Did anyone go, "Well it's about time?" We saw Sarah Paulson early in the strike, and then not again, is that bad?

Pedro was dealing with some unnerving stalking, and that was the one we knew about. I'm sure there is more that we don't.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[meme-loving-stuck]

ok im done venting im gonna find us a place even if we're broke and have to take out a loan in january. i can do that i have great credit. hell the only reason i don't take a loan to BUY a house out here is because my wife wants to leave the state before too long. a little house sure.... would be nice to RENT if i can though.... instead of another shitty apartment..........hurgh

[kc22invesmentsblog]

The Birth of Credit Unions: Friedrich Raiffeisen's Legacy

Written by Delvin In the world of finance and banking, credit unions have emerged as an alternative to traditional banks, offering unique benefits and a member-focused approach. The roots of credit unions can be traced back to 1852 when Friedrich Wilhelm Raiffeisen established the first credit union in Germany. In this blog post, we will explore the inspiring story of Friedrich Raiffeisen and…

[considernature]

Happy Earth Day!

We share this beautiful planet with over two million other species, from wasps the size of a grain of dust to whales larger than an office building. Yet, many of these species now face extinction due to the ways in which we humans have modified the planet to suit our needs. According to the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN), 13% of birds, 21% of reptiles, 27% of mammals, 37% of sharks, and 41% of amphibians are currently endangered, and some estimates suggest that 28% of all species on Earth are at risk of extinction in the near future. Imagine you woke up tomorrow and more than a quarter of every plant, animal, and fungus, from the elephants at the zoo to the earthworms beneath the soil, simply vanished, never to be seen ever again. If we choose to continue treating our planet so poorly, this will become a reality.

Here at Consider Nature, we believe the best way to protect our planet is to arm ourselves with knowledge! Over the years, we have written many articles on some of Earth’s coolest, weirdest, and most-endangered species, in the hope of inspiring readers to step up to the plate and protect biodiversity. I hope you will spend a few minutes of your Earth Day today reading about some of the species we believe are worth saving.

Zacaton grasslands in central Mexico, home to the Zacatuche, or volcano rabbit. Image credit: Jurgen Hoth

The Succulent Karoo, one of the most biodiverse ecosystems on Earth and home to the Karoo Padloper. Image credit: Tjeerd Wiersma under CC BY-SA 2.0.

The Gulf of California, home of the critically endangered Vaquita. Image credit: Natural World Heritage Sites.

[starshipsofstarlord]

locked away

summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.

Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.

You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.

How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.

His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.

These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.

“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.

It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.

You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.

Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.

“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.

He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.

Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.

“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.

It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.

He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.

[zorosdimples]

UNDER HIS THUMB ꒰ uraume x reader x sukuna ꒱

minors and blank/ageless blogs do not interact—i will block you. cw: suggestive content. nonconsensual nudity. dubious touching. brief descriptions of cannibalism and violence. suicide mention. reader is referred to as “bride” and “wife.” reader has breasts. wc: 1053. notes: uraume ily—please ditch shitkuna for me <3 (based on this idea)

A fire blazes in the yawning hearth, bathing your bedchamber in a warm titian. The shadows of flames leap and dance across the cragged stone walls—a solar flare—a cosmic spectacle. Logs and branches resembling human bones sputter and spark, crackling in your ears. You shift in your seat. 

The diaphanous veil remains pinned to your crown as Uraume’s fingers move deftly through your locks, the sweeping gossamer that brushes your ankles now pooling on the floor. They unravel the intricate updo they crafted for the ceremony, your hair a glowing halo in the firelight, head bowed in gentle subservience. The pins that bite at your scalp are crusted in blood; the sharp pain has long-since softened into a dull throb.

“I hate him,” you announce. 

(It’s how you cope with your precarious situation: burying your fears beneath carefully woven layers of disdain.) 

Barren aside from a bed, a wardrobe, and an armchair, your threadbare accommodations are as cozy as a dungeon. No torch, tapestry, or looking glass adorns the walls. Your companion’s expression is hidden as they continue their work atop your head.

Uraume chastises you after a few beats, affectation frigid as ice. “You shouldn’t speak of your husband in such a manner.” 

You snort. This one-sided union will only further scar the ugly face of matrimony; looking upon your captor with respect or affection is as likely as you kissing the cheek of your slain mother a final time. “My ‘husband’ for all of ten minutes.”

“And still your husband, nonetheless.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” you snap. 

Uraume pushes you to your feet and fluffs the veil with a hum. They circle you, appraising your body—the flimsy, silken robe that ripples across your curves hides nothing from their piercing stare—then, for what must be the fifth time, they adjust the knot that holds the garment together. When their eyes meet yours, you find yourself falling for the ruse, plucking fresh buds from a field of fuchsia.

How you wish their gaze held more than cool indifference.

Ever perceptive, they reach out to gingerly tuck a wayward strand behind your ear; if you close your eyes and still your heaving chest, you can pretend that it’s an intimate gesture—the touch of a lover. “Rarely do we have a say in our own fates,” Uraume muses. 

Fidgeting with your fingers, you quell the urge to embrace your attendant. (It’s a disgraceful thought for a newlywed. But you can’t spool in the words that unfurl from your lips, the edges raw, frayed with longing.)

“I would have taken my life if it hadn’t been for you, Uraume. I can’t stand him.” 

“Master Sukuna would never allow you to harm yourself.” 

“Tch—that vile brute cares little for my well being.” Hatred flares within your chest, your once-blooming heart now withered with rot. Tears of anguish blur your vision and make each syllable tremble. “If he didn’t want to harm me, he wouldn’t have murdered and feasted on my family.” 

A smile tucks itself in the corners of Uraume’s lips like a secret, though you miss it—misty-eyed and waist-deep in a deluge of painful memories. “You seem to forget that I prepared their flesh at my lord’s behest.” 

“I can’t fault you for being trapped under his thumb; you’re kinder than you give yourself credit for, anyhow.” 

They chuckle darkly. “And what leads you to believe that?” 

It doesn’t occur to you until this moment that you’ve edged closer to Uraume. If you leaned forward, you would smell the frost on their porcelain skin, taste the mint on their breath. Despite yourself, you reach out, cupping their cheek. 

“You’ve been my devoted caretaker since I arrived, patient and helpful at every turn. Your presence is the only constant here—my sole comfort.”

“Oh? Is my blushing bride ready to consummate our unholy union?” A rumbling voice cracks the tense air open like a bone, marrow seeping out, juices staining the tender earth. 

Your neck snaps to the doorway. Your monster of a husband nearly blots out the frame with his inhuman physique, clothed in nothing but a simple pair of black trousers, both sets of arms crossed. Disgust pinches your brow and purses your lips; you sneer. 

“With you? Never.”

Amused by your vehemence, the King of Curses approaches you, both mouths curled into wolfish grins. Uraume bows as Sukuna invades your space, two clawed hands wrapping around your waist, the other two cradling your skull. He demands your attention, irises a wine-dark sea of skeletons and ichor. A cursed siren urges you to plunge into its depths. End your suffering.

“Uraume—has my wife been inappropriate with you in my absence?” 

Without hesitation, they answer: “Yes, my lord.” 

Several sets of eyes—one belonging to Uraume, the others to Sukuna—gorge on your discomfort. You bristle under their scrutiny, and fruitlessly attempt to rip yourself from your husband’s grasp, nails scratching angry lines across his tattooed forearms. 

He clicks his tongue. “My naughty little bride.”  

Bile burns your throat at the mock-endearment, bitterness coating your tongue. For as resolved as you’ve been, you shake with rage, the hulking beast before you stoking the embers of your wrath. He smiles something sharp and wicked before releasing you. You stumble backwards, limp as a ragdoll. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna commands. 

There’s an unspoken agreement between master and servant. When Uraume steps forward and swiftly unties your robes, you shriek, the fabric slipping open to expose your nude form. They proceed to rip the garment from your body; it falls to the floor in wispy shreds. 

Attempting to preserve your dignity, you scramble to wrap an arm around your chest and press a palm between your legs. “This hardly seems proper,” you pant. 

Sukuna snickers as he sits at the foot of your bed, spreading his legs. “How else is a ‘vile brute’ supposed to learn the intricacies of his little wife’s body if not through careful examination?” 

As much as you want to spew poison at him, you gasp when Uraume’s chilly lips graze the arch of your neck, their delicate hands slipping up to caress the swell of your breasts. Unable to stifle the moan that warbles past your lips, you make the sinister decision to revel in this pleasure—no matter how short-lived, underhanded, or wrong it may be.

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🦊🦊🦊

Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion

🦊Libra Chiron, Venus Chiron aspects and Chiron in the 7th house often experience pressure from parents when it comes to partnerships. They might have parents that had a hand in coming together with their partner in union, marriage. I'm not saying these people experience an arranged marriage, we should look for other aspects for that, but whenever the native is in a serious partnership, the parents might pressure them to get married, they are rooting for it to happen.

🦊Mercury Chiron people along with Chiron in the 3rd house feel like they were never chosen when it comes to friendships, partnerships. They were the last picked on soccer team or for a team project. Therefore these people often want to have more variety, they desire more people around them that they can choose from.

🦊Neptune square Chiron people often don't like their feet, the shape and how they look.

🦊Libra Chiron and Chiron in the 7th house often have the feel like partnership is something hard to come by.

🦊Pisces and Sagittarius Chiron have tons of hobbies, because they often feel like they lack rich "inner world". So they need a lot of hobbies to fill them. They might think about themselves that they are not really that imaginative.

🦊Jupiter positive aspect Juno often have a person that they met when young and stay in touch throughout life for many years.

🦊Ascendant negative aspect Ceres often come across as they simply don't care even when they actually do. They need to work hard to overcome their tendency to micromanage too or giving opinion when is not asked for. These people often come across as not caring enough, so they end up overdoing it to the point of being overly sweet with compliments or little gifts. They might be tempted to buy affection of a person.

🦊People with Sagittarius Ascendant (Gemini Descendant) might often attract a partner that ends up looking more like their sibling or a cousin rather than a partner. One example of this happening in real life is Madeline Argy (Sagittarius Ascendant) and her former partner British rapper Central Cee (Gemini Sun).

🦊Boyfriends of a Virgo Sun often end up looking very boyish or have this teenage charm, like they look pure, angelic and young.

🦊I often find in same Sun couple (for example both are Capricorn Sun) that one of them has Libra Juno. They are looking for the same version of themselves basically.

🦊People with Scorpio South Node need to learn in this lifetime that not all of people in their inner circle of friends, family and romantic partners deserves their time, energy and affection.

🦊Virgo Jupiter and Virgo over the 9th house natives might feel anxious about engagements and marriage. They have this back and forth thinking about marriage, one day they are up for it, other days they are more anti marriage. Also, these people could feel like their in-laws are hot and cold or two-faced with them. One day they get along really well with them, the next day they might be more ignorant. You could travel with your in-laws too. You might also work with your in-laws, like being part of family business.

🦊Mercury in the 12th house, Virgo/Gemini over the 12th house keep their room, home soo tidy. Like they can't fall asleep if there are still dirty dishes in their kitchen.

🦊Actor Matthew Perry from Friends had so many addiction indicators in his Natal chart is unbelieveable, such a concentrated chart.

🦊I noticed in romantic Composite charts that Libra over the 12th house often points to the fact that the romantic connection, partnership might not flourish, happen. Because there is this feel that both STILL don't know each other well. There is so much confusion between both with this placement. A lot of misunderstandings, miscommunication or misplaced expectations.

🦊That person you had feelings for, but never confessed? You might have Composite Pisces Moon with this person.

Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion

[snowsonlylove]

Partition (Inspired by Beyonce & Ana Huang)

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Reader

Summary: Frustrated from her arranged husband’s lack of attention towards her, Y/N Y/L/N bursts in a plathora of words spewed to her arranged husband and elected President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow about his lack of care and affection towards his own wife despite Coriolanus literally being married to Y/N. Both parties being frustrated with no means to give their stances up, explode in a world of dirty, nasty sex in their limo on the way to former president’s son Felix Ravinstill’s dinner. 

Fic Type: Smut (NSFW) 18+ with angst, Arranged Marriage trope

Warnings: infidelity, cum licking, heavy kiss, degrading but also lots of praise, lmk if there’s anything I missed but this is vvv nasty 

Word Count: 2.6k

Inspo: Heavily inspired by Chapter 27 of King of Wrath by Ana Huang (my FAVORITE book of all time) from the Kings of Sin Series and the song Partition by Beyonce (an absolute GEM of a song). 

Disclaimer: About 90% of the sex scenes are directly from said chapter, so credits and the idea itself all go to Ana Huang and her team. The blowjob and first sex scene was from Ana Huang’s book and the last scene was a slightly altered version from me. This is basically an altered version of Ana Huang’s book idea turned into a version for Coriolanus and Y/N if they were in an arranged marriage. 

I do not own Coriolanus Snow or Y/N Y/L/N (cuz it’s you, boo). All credits go to Suzanne Collins and her team. Song credits also go to Beyonce and her team. 

I do not allow my works to be republished or translated under any circumstances. Any instances of this happening and YOU WILL BE BLOCKEDDD. 

Also, ageless and empty blogs will be BLOCKED as this is a 18+ fic. Report my fics and you’re blocked cuz if u don’t like it, LEAVEEEE.

Y/D/N = Your Dad’s Name (so sorry to anyone with daddy issues cuz me too)

The marriage of Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow was not one born out of love. Their fathers, Y/D/N Y/L/N and Crassus Snow planned for their union before fighting in the war to strengthen and unite the families in a pursuit for higher power. Both Y/N and Coriolanus grew up around similar environments, both being in the same friend group, meeting each other in birthday parties, visiting each other’s penthouses for playdates and as of late, running into each other in the Academy as they receive their degrees during graduation.

Now that both Y/N and Coriolanus are of marriage age, their fathers immediately drew up the arranged marriage with a contract, binding the two young adults for life, their families growing stronger as a result of their agreement. Coriolanus and Y/N have never disliked nor liked each other as they each had their own squad of people to hang out with, Y/N always being around Arachne Crane and Clemensia Dovecote while Coriolanus was closer with Felix Ravinstill and Festus Creed, to each their own being disgusted with the opposite sex in fear of cooties as that was common with young children, which was not a surprise in the way the two supposed love birds navigate their marriage in a meaningless way behind closed doors when it was the absolute opposite in public.

Y/N Y/L/N never felt that Coriolanus’s indifference was a severe one until he started to bring home mistresses not long after they’ve moved in during the late wave of his candidacy. He started to fuck his way through his female staff as Y/N was tortured with hearing the sound of his groans and the moaning of the women he summoned as a means to relieve his stress. Y/N was heartbroken as she felt that they had this mutual understanding that they would always be loyal to one another even through the circumstances of their relationship, Coriolanus clearly did not feel the same.

The couple usually kept their interactions minimal in their household as they live in seperate bedrooms, only to come down to eat dinner, choosing to have the rest of their meals seperate during the day. As Coriolanus’s relationship with these women grew to be more common, Y/N did not have the appetite to cater to Coriolanus’s ego further as she skipped her meals with him, instructing the staff to send her meals to her room instead as she laid on her large queen bed, heart breaking and face puffy with tears streaking down her face over his infidelity. Even though she did not exactly feel for him, she at least cared enough about him as a trusted partner throughout their arrangement. 

The atmosphere between the two grew more and more tense each day as Y/N sobbed behind closed doors, trying her best to muffle her cries as Coriolanus worked next door. Coriolanus, oblivious to his wife’s muffled crying, doesn’t notice her strange behavior until that night where Y/N left her bedroom door ajar and Coriolanus was finally able to see how hurt Y/N had been over his infidelity. Coriolanus was shocked to see for himself how miserable his wife had been over his actions, him originally choosing to bring in mistresses to encourage her to confront him. He moved away, however, ensure of what to do next as he left her alone.

The next day, one of Y/N’s female staff, particularly one of Coriolanus’s women, had informed Y/N of an event she needed to attend that day, former president’s son Felix Ravinstill’s dinner. With her puffy face, she nodded as she started to get ready. Y/N felt dejected as she got ready, feeling as if she was going through the motions as several maids filed in to help her with her makeup and dress. Y/N wore a sullen frown on her face as she stared into the distance of her reflection in the vanity, wondering how and why she agreed to this marriage in the first place. “I will get out of this place once and for all…” she thought as she started to navigate a plan to be free of the ruse of a marriage. 

Coriolanus waited for Y/N outside of their mansion as Y/N appeared, her eyes still puffy although covered with the power of makeup. He extended his arm as she took it with caution, both of them stepping in the limo silently. Once they got in, Y/N stared off to the window of the limo as they drove away from the mansion. Coriolanus, apprehensive over his wife’s indifference, suddenly speaks “You know, you could smile a little?” he said with a timid one of his own. Y/N’s mood suddenly darkened as she responded in an even more dejected and hoarse voice “How could I? Please, dear husband, demonstrate how I could smile when my only other partner in this joke of a marriage brings home other women and fucks them for me to hear.” 

Coriolanus, taken aback by how dejected his wife’s voice was, responded, “Well I’m sorry if you feel offended by my lack of attention towards you as of late. We were never exclusive in the first place, our fathers planned this for us.” Y/N looked incredulously at her husband, “Exclusive?! What part of an arranged marriage and a contract doesn’t speak not exclusive?! Are you joking right now, Coriolanus? Because if you are, no ones laughing.” Y/N sighed, “I though you were smarter than this, Snow. I truly never imagined that my presence dissatisfies you so much that you had to turn to other women to satify your needs.” Y/N said as her eyes started to tear up again. She felt so exasperated, “There’s no point in crying now.. He clearly doesn’t care about me.” She thought as Coriolanus examines her face.

Coriolanus felt horrible that his wife felt like this towards him. He truly did not mean to go this far, only planning to give her a little push. He turned towards his wife, and suddenly grabbed both of her hands in his own, stroking them in a delicate way, as someone would with a precious porcelain doll. “I’ve never hated you, wife. I merely wanted to give you a push in this arrangement since we both did not agree to this. I wanted to encourage you to be closer to me, but how could I when you seem so distant all the time?” Coriolanus sighed before continuing, “I’ve loved you ever since I met you, but I’ve never been.. brave enough to confess that to you.” 

Y/N was left astonished as she looked at Coriolanus, “Perhaps.. I’ve also fallen for you during our arrangement, yet I’ve been in denial of my own feelings for a while. I’ve always thought you were quiet handsome, husband.” Y/N said with a small smile of her own. Coriolanus looked at her, surprised by her confession, before Y/N suddenly pressed her lips to his in a rough, desperate kiss that had both of them clinging to each other for dear life. Coriolanus’s hands were soon entangled in her hair as Y/N clutched her hands on his blazer. Their mouths fought desperately against each other, teeth clashing and theirs tongues molding together like a perfect puzzle. 

Their heavy makeout session resumed as the limo came to a stop. Traffic in the Capitol was not uncommon, but at this pace, they might as well reach Felix Ravinstill’s mansion at a time where cows are able to fly. The couple broke off after a while, Coriolanus staring down at Y/N’s V-cut dress as she straddled him and kissed his jaw before rising to give him a deep kiss. As they broke off from their kiss, Y/N’s hand trailed down Coriolanus’s stomach as she made her way towards his groin.

Coriolanus groaned as Y/N’s hand lightly touched his aching erection. Y/N continued to kiss his neck as she freed his erection from his pants. His cock was huge and hard, dripping with pre-cum and begging to be touched. Y/N slid off of her seat down to her knees, where she started to lick around the head of his cock while gripping the base with both her hands, working towards kneading his huge, hard balls. 

As she gripped the base of his cock, she slid his dick down her throat until her mouth hit the point where her eyes watered. Her eyes started to tear up as Coriolanus stroked her head, encouraging her to go on. Even with her mouth engulfing his cock with desperate need, there was still a good two to three inches between her mouth and the base of his cock.

Coriolanus’s groans began to sound louder as Y/N tasted the salty sweetness of his pre-cum as she adjusted to a slow and steady pace. In and out. Slowly becoming faster, harder as she sucked and bobbed her head up and down his enormous length. 

Coriolanus’s hand gripped her hair as the limo went over a bump in the road, forcing his cock to go deeper down her throat. Y/N spluttered as her chokes and gurgles filled the car’s sex driven atmosphere as her noises fluttered with his groans perfectly, creating a sex induced symphony. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Coriolanus groaned as Y/N looked up, her eyes blurry with tears from taking him so deep, “That feels so good.” Pride rushed through Y/N as she looked up to see Coriolanus’s face etched with pleasure.

As she looked up towards him, his eyes were closed as his head tipped back with pleasure, the column of his throat exposing one of the most sexy Adam’s apple she’s ever seen. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his breathing shuddering as Y/N’s head bobbed up and down his dick faster. His hands buried in her hair as her tongue swept the underside of his cock.

She increased her pace, and just as she thought he was about to come, Coriolanus pulled her hair back and lifted her onto his lap as he crushed his mouth onto hers, their tongues clashing together in a never ending battle of sexual tension broken in a dam of hot, heavy sex. 

As their mouths dominated against each other, his arousal met hers as she ground against it, desperate for more. Harsh groans echoed from the both of them, each groan vibrating down each other’s spine in a sex-induced fuel. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Coriolanus heaved as his mouth trailed a line of passionate kisses down Y/N’s neck.

He clenched his teeth on the strap of her dress and he gently pulled it down, exposing her chest as he then raised her hips so he could push her underwear to the side. Y/N didn’t have time to catch her breath as Coriolanus was inside her, filling her to the brim with only one thrust.

Y/N only had a few seconds to adjust before Coriolanus gripped her hips and slammed her down again on his cock, hard, as he drove into her like a beast in heat, slamming in and out of her, up and down. Again and again, faster and harder, until her toes curled, her knuckles white from how hard she was holding him to stay steady as the pressure built inside her and neared its breaking point.

She clung to him, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she trembled while trying to match his rhythm. Y/N bounced up and down, grinding her clit against him on every stroke.

“Just like that,” Coriolanus growled harshly as his teeth grazed across Y/N’s nipple, his breath making her shudder as it created goosebumps on her skin. “Bounce on that dick like the good girl I know you are.”

A loud moan emerged from Y/N’s throat as Coriolanus’s mouth closed on her pebbled nipple and sucked. A huge slick of wetness gushed around them as their arousal dripped everywhere, around her thighs, his leg, and onto the seat of the limo.

“You’re making such a big mess, darling.” Coriolanus groaned while looking at his wife with a lovestruck smile, tugging at her nipple with his teeth after. “Should I make you clean it up, hmm? Have you lick your own cum off the seat like a desperate little whore while I fuck you from behind?”

The fucking happening between them could only be described as rough and depraved, the two exploring each other ravenously as the tension between them exploded into a passionate cocoon of chambered sex in the limo.

His words triggered something inside her as Y/N felt her orgasm hit her a second later with a fiery velocity, making her back arch the highest it could go and her mouth to fall open with a silent scream.

Y/N was trembling from her previous orgasm as she heard her husband let out a chuckle, the sound vibrating throughout her skin as he laid little kisses across her shoulder. “Here I thought you were so prim and proper when I first met you.”

She felt too euphoric to care as his words didn’t really register in her mind when he suddenly moved her into a different position. One second, she was on his lap, and the next, she was facing the seat as he put her on all fours and tugged her hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulled her hair so that her back collided with his chest.

They shared a passionate, fiery kiss as he started thrusting into her with slow movements, pulling away until almost all of him was out before thrusting every inch of his cock into her tight, wet pussy. As she was enjoying the pleasure he was giving him, he suddenly said with a hoarse voice, “Clean up your mess, Y/N.”

She wanted to say no, she truly did but something about that moment made her want to please her husband as she started licking the seat clean while he watched her with a heated glance. “Good girl, Y/N. Such a good girl.” He groaned as she finished licking before he started fucking her again, this time more rough, hard and simply brutal as he pushed his cock in and out of her extremely wet pussy.

The only sound heard around the vehicle was the loud sound of skin slapping as the smell of sweat and sex mixed together beautifully along with her moans and his ravenous groans. As she got closer and closer to her second orgasm, he reached around and pinched her clit as he muttered, “You wanna cum, darling? Show me what a good girl you are and cum hard for me.” 

Her moans were the loudest it’s ever been since he said that as her second orgasm hit her like a tidal wave as he loudly groaned while coming inside her sweet pussy.

Both Y/N and Coriolanus calmed down as they catched her breath, their faces close together as Coriolanus turned her back towards the seat and kissed her with all his might as they revelled in their love for each other. 

“I love you.”, Y/N said as she gazed up at her husband with a dazed but content expression. Coriolanus looked down at her while heaving a huge sigh, “I love you too, sweetheart. So much, I hope you know that.” He said as he closed the gap between them as the limo arrived near the Ravinstill residence. 

[scribblescrabbleboss]

Political Posting

I know I'm a sonic franchise fan blog, but I cannot sit idle while I watch the freedoms of myself and my fellow Americans spin the drain. I know it will be exhausting, but I've lived through this once before as an angry teenager.

But she's back, and she's even madder as an adult with a degree in Anthropology; a student of sociology; a patron of history; a woman from the deep south; a bisexual; a LIVING BREATHING BEING WITH RIGHTS!

I hate that people won't call a duck a duck.

THESE MEN ARE NAZIS.

PEACE HAS GOTTEN US NOTHING.

VIOLENCE BEGOTS VIOLENCE, BUT PERHAPS IT IS THE ONLY LANGUAGE PSYCHOPATHS WITH THE IQ OF MEAT PIGS CAN SPEAK.

Nothing gets done in this nation without violence. Nothing will ever happen. "Progress is slow!" They say.

Progress is not always positive. Donald Trump has unchecked, unprecedented power. Germany was dismantled in 53 days by three men one of which gets all the credit because he was the acting Chancellor. What makes you think DJT won't destroy the United States in 30 days? He already destroyed the election with interference, propaganda, and outright election fraud!

"Oh, but stranger on the internet, this nation is a global force! We cannot take on a nation!"

You spineless fool, have you forgotten the blood-soaked birth of our nation?

And yes, it is that serious. Tomorrow CHILDREN will be DRAGGED from their ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS FOR SIMPLY BEING BROWN IN AMERICA.

THE PUBLIC HAS NO IDEA WHERE THEY WILL BE HOLDING THESE INNOCENT PEOPLE UNTIL THEY CAN "DEPORT" THEM.

That is a page straight out of the Nazi's playbook.

If you didn't care about censorship, libraries, gay people, trans people, disabled people, schools, unions, workers rights, Muslims, minimum wage, birth control, women, sexual education, or voting rights perhaps you will care about this tidbit from the aftermath of WW2:

First they came for the Communists And I did not speak out Because I was not a Communist Then they came for the Socialists And I did not speak out Because I was not a Socialist Then they came for the trade unionists And I did not speak out Because I was not a trade unionist Then they came for the Jews And I did not speak out Because I was not a Jew Then they came for me And there was no one left To speak out for me Pastor Martin Niemöller

You are not immune to the incoming cullings because of your status. You are not immune to propaganda. In order for a dictatorship to function it needs to convince the public that it has an enemy. You will become the enemy.

[the-desilittle-bird]

Hi. I hope, you're okay. I hope, you like my request. Love you. Thank you very much.

When Daemon was still relatively young, he was supposed to be married to Lady Y/n. She is from quite distant lands, so, when they met and greeted each other, the young prince heard an accent. The Lady was very calm and had no illusions about this union. Their walk was quiet and relatively pleasant.

One day, Prince Daemon Targaryen told his betrothed, that he did not love her. She just nodded calmly and understandingly. And she added, that she didn't love him either, but she was ready to work with him. And so it was. In her ladylike manner, she found excuses for him, and even protected the Prince. In general, remaining the same cold-blooded, the Lady was on the side of the Prince. Once she even let his drunken tears water her shoulder.

Once, Daemon managed to close his mouth, before saying, that he desperately likes her. He noticed, that she even began to speak without an accent, and learned the simplest sentences, like thanks and good morning wishes, in the language of his ancestors. Daemon knows for sure, that she didn't take lessons. So, she studied by herself?..

That morning, he planned to introduce the Lady to his dragon, but he was not allowed into her room. And by dinnertime, they reported, that the Lady had died suddenly. To say, that Daemon was upset, is to say nothing. He made a real storm. But that was a long time ago.

Now, after many years and events, he again entered the chambers, where his former fiancee lived and died. He had not dared to enter this room for many years, not sure why exactly. Daemon was not habitually very nervous. He thoughtlessly took a book from a drawer, to occupy his hands, and a piece of parchment and a dried flower fell out of the book at his feet. The one flower, he had given her. There was clearly a Lady's handwriting on the withered piece of paper. She was practicing writing in the language of Ancient Valyria. And among the pile of individual words, written with and without errors, the Prince was able to make out the sentences. "I think, Prince Daeman (he didn't take offense at the mistake) is very cete. I think, I like the Prince. Prabably, this is not good." And here it has already become a hurtful. There was also something written on the other side of the paper, it was her native dialect. Finally, he was able to translate the inscription. "Prince Daemon Targaryen has a very beautiful face. I even envy, how handsome he is. In a good way. I almost kissed him today, but I didn't. I can imagine, how terrible and embarrassing it would be. Feel bad all day again. Probably, it's because of the local climate."

Yes, he hasn't mentioned Y/n all these years, but that doesn't mean, he's forgotten about her.

Author's Note- No proof reading, so beware.

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

In the Silence

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary- Sometimes you can never forget some people...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore

Warnings- Angst in end

GIF Credits to @targaryensource

Marriage was just another, polite name for boundaries and the young prince hated them the most. So when Daemon was informed that he is to marry a lady from distant lands, he was beyond furious and had thrown a huge tantrum.

But the day he met Lady (Y/N), an amusement grew inside him. She talked in an accent, and unlike the other ladies, she was quite distant, speaking only when spoken too. Their walks would be spent in blissful silence, words never uttered until once.

"I don't love you," Daemon had said abruptly, making the lady nod calmly with understanding. "Neither do I, my prince. But I am ready to work the marriage out," she spoke with such an intelligence that Daemon was surprised.

Daemon observed how she would protect him, lying to the king and his brother when Daemon would do something wrong or sneak out of his room to visit the Flea Bottom.

"I wished to see the Flea Bottom, my king. Prince Daemon being generous offered to take me," Lady (Y/N) spoke in front of the king, Daemon's grandfather, how nodded. "The next time you both shall decide upon such things, take two guards with you."

The matter was dismissed and Daemon's respect for his betrothed grew by millions. A beginning of friendship was on the horizon.

Once, the Rogue Prince had came to her chambers, drunk and on the verge of breaking into tears. She had let him use her shoulder for comfort, cooing and soothing him until he fell asleep on her lap.

The next day, when Daemon woke up to a soft humming. He watched as (Y/N) combed through her soft hair, fingers softly holding the comb. He wished to spell those words out to her that day.

I have come to take a liking in to, my lady.

But the proud man couldn't, and so with a word of gratitude, he left her room and went directly to Dragon Pit. He would spend hours telling Caraxes about her, who would sit calmly listening, nudging his nose in Daemon's side.

Daemon started to notice how the lady's accent disappeared gradually, something he had a mixed feeling about. While the accent discomforted him from time to time, it distinguished (Y/N) from the others.

He was surprised when his ancestral language slipped out of her lips, delicate and slightly mispronounced as she greeted him. He started to brainstorm as to how did she learn Valyrian. He would have known if she was taking classes, and no one else except for his family knew this language.

Daemon's heart soared as he realized that she taught herself the language he held close to his heart.

The next day, as Daemon walked to his lady's chambers, the guards outside stopped him, denying him to enter or talk to (Y/N). With a broken heart, he had spent the day with Caraxes, telling him of the disappointment he experienced that day.

But when the Rogue Prince returned, he was told the news he hadn't expected at all. Lady (Y/N) had passed away.

It had been years since that and the young prince had grown into a cold warrior who takes pleasure in the wars and battles with frequent visits to the Street of Silk.

To everyone, the prince had long forgotten his late betrothed, but only Daemon knew the ache in his heart as he passed through the closed door which led to her chambers. A place which formerly smelt of lavender and citrus fruits.

With heavy heart, he walked in, looking around the layer of dust which had settled over the entire room. Dried bouquets of flowers on the bed, left as a tribute to the woman who stayed there; died there.

Daemon saw a book on the table near her bed. A thick book which he held in his eyes, a few parchment of papers falling from the inside along with a dried rose. One he had gifted her.

On the parchment was her handwriting, Valyrian words with mistakes littered on all the papers. "I suppose I like Prince Daeman." Read one of them.

The prince took in a deep breath, sitting down on the floor as he looked over the papers. All written in his language, talking about him and her growing love for him.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he opened the book, her life written in her words. Praises of her land, the beauty she had seen, her feeling of discomfort on some days and at last in her native words, a letter addressed to him.

My mother always said that writing down everything makes everything easier. So, I write my feelings down today. I have been infuriated by how I feel towards the prince; my betrothed.

Prince Daemon has such a handsome face, I can almost feel my envy sometimes. But the growing love will only make everything complicated. How much I yearn to seek his lips, is a secret only I know.

My days of discomfort are more than those of reliefs, but I am sure it is nothing, perhaps my moon blood signaling its coming arrival. Perhaps something else. I don't know but for now, I wish to relish the moments of love. A love I am not entitled to at all.

People said that the Rogue Prince had no feelings, but if they saw him now, they would have not said that for tears dripped down his cheeks with lips trembling.

[blockgamepirate]

What sucks is that I can feel that a major split in the fandom is probably inevitable now

I guess this is doomposting but I can already see it happening

idk, I'm gonna support the workers in any case

I don't particularly care about the current argument over the union, it's pure distraction to shift the discussion away from the actual problems, as if anyone here actually cares about the union and not just what the union can possibly facilitate

But I do care about the employees and former employees of QSMP and they deserve respect and dignity and credit, not slander or vague passive-aggressive accusations

Which I've unfortunately seen even from people I know and care about, even people I follow or used to follow here on Tumblr, even people I consider friends

So, I feel like I should just be honest here, idk how I'm gonna handle this diplomatically in order not to burn too many bridges unnecessarily, because I don't actually want to lose people over this, but I do also have principles

I had no animosity towards Quackity before this, I hope you can see that from my blog history; I've never been a cc!Quackity hater. Unfortunately at this point I do need to see him do better than this, because his employees and former employees deserve better

If he does actually try to make it all up for them, if he actually talks to them with respect and a willingness to listen to their concerns and their experiences, then I have no more beef with him

I don't think he's a bad person, but he is doing a bad thing

That's all

[alex-awoos]

I am slowly adding all my ocs and there lore to this blog.

Introducing the Shepherd siblings! Morgan, Riley, and Oliver. They're Australian, have a sibling punk band, and they're all some flavor of queer and trans.

Morgan (green hair) is agender with a femme-leaning presentation, and loves all things goth, Halloween,and witchy. They're the lead singer of the band and play the base. They've always wished to be a real witch with real powers (which does happen in their character arc), and they're currently working on their masters in geology. They love crystals and cool rock formations.

Riley (long white hair) is a trans nonbinary demigirl that loves writing, video games, and works in retail. Out of the three they're the only one not satisfied in life, struggling with depression and self confidence due to the pressure put on them by their parents as the only "male" in the family. They love writing stories, drawing, and animating, and they wish someday to become a video game developer. They are the drummer of their sibling band.

Oliver the youngest of the three, a pansexual trans man that fully embodies the spirit of punk and left-wing anarchy. He is super smart with physics, mechanics, and machines, and works as a car mechanic at a unionized workplace. He is the guitarist of the band.

All three siblings cut contact with their conservative parents, although Morgan, the oldest, reaches out to them on extremely rare occasions and only out of absolute necessity.

They all moved to the U.S. in the same city to get as far away from their parents as possible. Morgan (or Oliver, undecided) is Alex's roommate and best friend. Riley lives with Oliver/Morgan so that they can financially and emotionally support her.

Alex, the Shepherd siblings, and a few others I haven't inroduced yet all become the main "cast" of the story, where in a once-in-a-million incident, they all gain unique abilities and travel the world as vigilantes-- I guess superheroes, you could say-- trying to make the world a better place, a little at a time.

Art credits:

Morgan art by strayyleafy on Instagram

Riley art by Walruswonders on Instagram

Oliver art by lemonclawz on Instagram

[islandoforder]

Hi just properly scrolled through your blog for the first time and wanted to ask a question:

Re: Riz should be class president post from over a week ago - why should it be Riz over Kristen now that the class president position has stakes? Is it because of Kristen’s inconsistent access to her spells in case she needed to defend herself? I’d love to hear more about your thought process regarding this - assuming your opinion hasn’t changed since making that post.

My thoughts personally are that character-wise, it makes more sense to me for Riz to be the one strategizing as the campaign manager, because he’s the one actually finding a lot of the traps the Rat Grinders have put out for them.

Whereas Kristen makes more sense to me as a candidate purely because of her charisma and good radar for social bs - her weakness, of course, being that she’s a bit of a wild card in her choices regarding the campaign. But at the same time, she’s been able to get away with wearing a soggy salsa hat in front of the entire student body and still maintain some chance for the candidacy.

Obviously, I’m ignoring the more mechanical aspects of this comparison. If that’s what you were referring to in your original post idk then. I’m still wrapping my head around how Riz rolls so well now, level 10 dnd shit is way over my head.

Sorry if this was long, I just wanted to express my thoughts as well as hear yours! Idk how far away we are from getting back to the campaign to class president, who knows what happens after they get back from fallinel!

hi! sorry this is such a late reply, i've been away and i wanted to watch the new ep before i started posting about anything d20 in case of unintentional spoilers haha

so i think part of it is that, imho, brennan intended the class president arc to be riz's:

kipperlily is a rogue, v type a, and a narrative foil to riz, and this would have directly pitted them against one another

riz needed extra credit things for his college app, like being involved in student govt/being student president

there's also something about kipperlily being fundamentally riz but richer

kristen's arc was clearly always going to be about cassandra, trying to regain her favour, or increase her popularity, or resurrect her

nara is the kristen foil this season (once again, kristen but richer)

everyone has like an individual arc this season except for riz, bc his was supposed to be student president

beyond all of this, i don't actually think kristen is able to take the student president stuff too seriously - every time she tries, she ends up doing a bit instead, at the steel workers union, at the middle school, even at the party. i actually think if riz was the candidate, he would manage himself, in the same way that fabian wanted to be the party house and arranges that himself, and adaine needed a job and worked on and got that herself. so like i agree that he's the best campaign manager, but that doesn't preclude him from being the best candidate as well??

also, frankly, a lot of the good social graces kristen has had this year are from riz putting in the hard work - him joining all the clubs and making those connections, him taking stress to give her more popularity, his own popularity, etc.

like i'm enjoying the silliness of kristen's campaign, but i'm kind of with sklonda on this - riz would be a better candidate, and it is to some degree a shame that he's putting this much effort into running a campaign for someone else. if they legit need the student body president bc they'll become proxy headmaster, then i think a more serious campaign with riz at the helm and finally having his time in the spotlight is not a bad idea!!

[hyperfix-wip]

Webbed Together

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Author's Note: Credit goes to @the-kr8tor for their original characters Ramona and Billie as well as their recurring character Ned. I'd also like to credit ❄️ anon from @the-kr8tor 's blog for their idea of Pom-Pom the rabbit!

Tags: Parent Trap!AU, Dad!Hobie AU, Twin!AU, Billie and Ramona!AU, Older!Hobie, Mom!Reader, Older!Reader

Chapter 2: Billie

<<< Chapter 1 Chapter 3>>>

The moment Billie steps foot into the bustling Camp Feast in her father’s lucky red vest, she knows she’s right at home.

Dark eager eyes roam around the campgrounds, lighting up at the sight of kids around her age running around with their own luggage and instruments. The clashing of different sounds send shivers down her spine while her lips curl up into a cat-like grin. With her fingers fidgeting with the Union Jack patch on the vest, itching to take out and play her violin, Billie sets her small leather case down on the hood of the car, the metal edges of the case clanking against the metal, before her thumbs unlatch the bronze hinges on the sides.

“Oi, Billie!”

A deep British timbre of a voice breaks Billie out of her reverie as her uncle Ned pops his head out from the side of the open trunk, his pierced eyebrow raised in feigned annoyance while he lugs out a large suitcase. “Be careful, yeah? This car’s a rental, damn it.”

Billie rolls her eyes in amusement as she innocently grins back at him. “Oh c’mon, Uncle Ned,” she chirps with her own British accent breaking through the background noise as she pulls her violin out of the case, “you’re not the one paying for it. Dad said to relax and let him take care of–”

“Silly Billie, I love you, but I refuse to take what your dad says at face value,” Ned snorts while he sets Billie’s suitcase down on the ground before slamming the trunk shut. “Besides I’m the one who handles the expenses for the band, not your dad, so I do haveto worry.”

Billie’s bottom lip juts out into a small pout, making Ned snort before walking over to her and ruffling her hair. “Oh c’mon, put that away. You’re a big girl now, yeah? You’re already ten—“

“Eleven!” Billie huffs out with an annoyed glare, “I just turned eleven, Uncle Ned—“

“Yes, yes, you’re eleven,” Ned snickers again with a teasing glint in his eye, ruffling her wild curls some more. “You’re already growing up so fast, you little beanstalk.”

Billie huffs out again as she swats Ned’s hand away, but he only laughs it off before pulling her into a hug.

“You really are growing up so fast, mac…”

Billie’s face drops as Ned’s voice trails off into a sentimental hush before she wraps her arms around his waist with a soft sniffle.

“…I’ll make sure to write,” Billie mumbles into Ned’s shirt, earning another quiet snort from Ned.

“Hm, that’d be nice,” he replies with a teasing huff. “You already have the address for the airbnb?”

“Yeah.”

“And your stamps?”

“Yeah.”

“And your notebook and envelopes?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And your pencils and rubbers—“

“Uncle Ned.”

Ned chuckles again as Billie looks up at him with a deadpan before rocking her back and forth in his arms. “Alright, alright. When your camp thing is over, either your Aunt Yuri or Uncle James’ll pick you up, okay? Your dad and I’ll hafta deal with the venue before our concert in New York at the end of the summer.”

Billie nods along as she looks up at Ned with a broad smile. “And I’ll be backstage this time, right?”

“Of course, little beanstalk,” Ned ruffles her hair one more time before gently pulling away. “Now go on, get your stuff put away before I change my mind and drag you back into the car.”

Billie’s eyes widen at his faux-threat before quickly grabbing her open violin case, eliciting a squawk from Ned as the metal edges nearly scratch the rental car, and her suitcase before she runs off towards the crowd of kids and counselors. “Bye, Uncle Ned!”

“You damn brat!” Ned huffs out while he watches Billie stumble and waddle away with her luggage.  Despite the annoyed rumble in his voice and the narrowing of his eyes, a tender smile curls up on his lips as she slowly disappears into the crowd before he reluctantly walks around and heads back into the car.

——

A loud grunt forces its way out of Billie’s mouth as she tosses her suitcase on top of her assigned bunk, her violin on top of her pillow. She puffs a breath to blow a loose curl out of her face before it flutters back down, resulting in her face scrunching up and her pushing her curls away with an annoyed pout. Her eyes warily glance down at her suitcase, with its latches barely clutching each other and holding in the contents bulging within. With her head turned away and with only one eye cracked open, her thumbs inch closer to the bottoms of the silver clasps in slight apprehension. As soon as her thumbs gently push the latches up, her suitcase instantly erupts into an explosion of clothes and trinkets flying around her.

“Oh bloody hell!”

Billie groans at the mess before she kneels down to grab her things, oblivious to the sound of door hinges squeaking behind her as she tosses her belongings on her bunk. Crawling on the hardwood floor with her hair fluttering down over her scrunched up face, she continues to mutter more expletives under her breath before a pair of off-white sneakers peek through her curtain of curls and enter her line of vision. Her head snaps up as she pushes her hair out of her face again, revealing a bespectacled girl with confused amusement behind her thick frames.

“Uh…is this yours?”

The girl holds out an old stuffed white rabbit to Billie. The plush animal has a pink stitched nose on its protruding muzzle, as well as a missing button eye and mismatched patches scattered across its body. Billie’s eyes light up before she grabs the toy from the girl.

“Pom-Pom!”

Billie hugs the stuffed bunny against her chest before she looks up at her newly-decided friend. “Thanks by the way,” she laughs before pushing herself up from the floor, her height almost towering over the short girl by a few inches as she holds her hand out with a cat-like grin. “Billie Jean Brown, nice ta meetcha. But you can call me Billie.”

The girl lets out a small laugh of her own as she pushes her glasses up before grabbing Billie’s hand with a shake. “I’m Annie.”

Billie’s smile grows even more as Annie puts her duffle bag and a small skinny case down on the bed next to Billie’s bunk. Annie then flops down onto the mattress with an ‘oof’ before she unzips her duffle bag.

“So you’re, like, from England, right?” Annie casually asks while carefully pulling out some pictures and other trinkets. “Do you live next to the Royal Family or have you seen them? Do you guys really drink a lot of tea and have those fancy tea parties over there?”

A snort slips through Billie’s nostrils before she barks out a hearty laugh, flopping down on her own bedding as she hugs Pom-Pom against her chest. She pushes her curls out of her face again, revealing small glints of silver lining along her ears.“I mean, yeah, I live in London, but not near Buckingham Palace. More up north if anything, further into Camden.”

Billie then leans back and gestures to her outfit with a flick of her wrists- her dad’s red leather vest, lined with silver studs and countless colorful pins, over an old punk band shirt tailored to her size, denim jeans with handmade patches over her knees, and scuffed converses. “And do I really look like I go to fancy tea times?”

Annie rolls her eyes with a cheeky smile before she props her hands behind her, the metal springs in her bed quietly groaning under the weight. “But you do drinktea?”

“...yeah.”

A snicker slips through Annie’s lips before she pushes herself off her bed and holds her hand out to Billie. “Well either way, you’re definitely not in London anymore, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like it here.”

A mischievous smirk curls up on Billie’s lips before she grabs Annie’s hand, setting her Pom-Pom down on her bed before following Annie out of the cabin.

“By the way, Annie, you know how to play poker?”

Annie laughs a little more as she shakes her head, and Billie lets out a feigned disappointed sigh.

“What a shame,” Billie shrugs before her smirk curls up more. “Off topic, but how much money did you bring for this trip?”

The cabin door then slams shut while Billie continues to lure her new friend-turned- potential victim into a sense of security.