#its not out of malice or anything its more like

[anemoiashifts]

why you should stop consuming media if you want to shift.

where your attention goes, is where energy will follow. the more you focus on something, the more real it becomes.

⭑.ᐟ i made a post a while ago saying “why you should get off social media if you want to shift”. id like to expand upon that a little more. so, here’s a “why you should stop consuming media” or at the very least “why you should consume media carefully”.

you are being programmed through everything — social media, music lyrics, television, advertising, the news. this is why meta wants tiktok b@nn3d so badly. its taking away their ability to control & their influence upon you because average people spend more time on tiktok then anything else. this can be extended to news networks because more and more people are using it as news sources. media, not just social, need your attention in order to program you. as someone who has taken classes marketing, the core of what my class was, was teaching someone to be the best manipulator. my professor said to always “play on people’s emotions”. anything that has the ability to take your attention away & live in a negative & distracted stake, is taking away your ability to create the life you want to live. a lot of — if not everything — is about power & controlling you for someones benefit.

taking this into account, you can now begin to understand why television shows are called television programs. it is programming you to think & behave & make purchases. for example, the human mind does not know the difference between real & fake. if something provokes an emotion out of you — that emotion it is still real, even it was brought on by fiction. the human brain cannot truly comprehend fiction. this is why people form such emotional attachments to fictional characters because our brains cannot distinguish that they are a character or a scenario is not real.

power comes from your attention & what you focus on; what emotion it provokes.

₊˚⊹♡ why is this relevant ?

your thoughts & feelings create your reality.

by waking up every morning after a shifting attempt & saying “i didn’t shift, im not in my desired reality” is what you’re affirming to yourself. when you roll over & scroll on your phone, you are taking your attention away from persisting that you are in the wish fulfilled. you aren’t focusing on that you have already shifted. every shifting tiktok video is affirming that you aren’t in your desired reality. it’s reinforcing that idea of “you’ll shift tonight” “who would do this in your desired reality” “___ in my desired reality” — that you are still here. it’s hardly ever said “you’ve already shifted” on tiktok. again, this circles back to “playing on people’s emotions” — desperation & excitement. keeping people in a loop of shifting content instead of actually wanting to experience it for yourself. i will admit, practically everyone is guilty of this — self included. it definitely doesn’t come from a place of malice & i doubt it’s always intentional on anyone’s part but it’s something to consider that every shifting video you come across is a reminder that you haven’t shifted yet.

limit what you consume. for example, if you keep listening to a sad song, you’re going to be sad & pulled back into a time in your life that no longer serves you. it removes you from the present. the brain has no concept of time as it is a man-made idea. by eliminating media entirely (or limiting / being mindful of what is being fed to you & taking nothing at face value), you are getting that power back.

media keeps you distracted. it keeps you focused on other things & not your manifestations. it constantly brings back you into the 3d. the longer you’re focused on the 3d, the further away you will be removed from your manifestations & you will be pulled into things that fuel others desires.

[tikosblogg]

Come Undone

Summary: Best Friend Noah🥰

Warning: Fist fight, cussing, unprotected piv (plz don’t do that), mention of drug use.

A/N: Yall I have had writers block so bad…I’m so sorry if this is garbage. I really tired 😭💜

I stood by the bonfire, my heart pounding in time with the crackling flames. The glow illuminated the faces of my friends—Noah, Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly—each one lost in the bliss of the moment. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Noah.

He was tall, lean, adorned with tattoos that coiled like vines up his neck and across his arms. In the dim light, he seemed to radiate strength. Noah. My best friend, my secret crush, oblivious to the feelings that swirled within me. I ignored them, pushed them down for so long…but it’s useless.

Folio and Jolly were perched on the tailgate of Folio's truck, while Noah and Nicholas loomed nearby, their laughter blending with the music drifting from speakers hidden in the crowd. With every chuckle, my heart fluttered. I wanted to tell Noah how I felt, to lay bare the secrets of my heart. Yet, every time I opened my mouth to speak, the words shriveled into silence. What if I ruined our friendship? What if he didn’t feel the same?

As I shook off my doubts, that’s when she arrived. Jordan. The name sent icy tendrils down my spine, conjuring memories of high school torment. There she was—strutting towards us like she owned the night, her shimmering hair catching the glow of the fire. She was the embodiment of the girl who made my life a living hell, and tonight she had chosen to swoop into my world once more.

"Hey, Noah!" she smiled, leaning against the side of Folio's truck with a flirtatious smile, as she playfully tugged at the hem of his hoodie, that instantly soured my stomach. "What’s a guy like you doing with a bunch of misfits?"

Laughter erupted in the group, but all I could focus on was the heat creeping up my neck. I could pretend I didn’t feel the flames of jealousy licking at my insides; I could act like I wasn’t feeling small and insignificant next to the Amazonian figure of Jordan. My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides, desperate for release.

Noah chuckled awkwardly, side-eyeing me for a moment. "Just enjoying a bonfire. Nice to see you, Jordan." He nodded, taking a step back from her.

She leaned closer, her voice dripping with malice. "You could have a lot more fun with me" Then she turned her gaze to me, a wicked smile blooming on her lips. "What’s Roxy doing hanging out with all the boys? Shouldn't she be off somewhere shooting up with her mommy?”

Everyone was silent. Eyes widened in shock. The reaction was instantaneous, the alcohol coursing through my veins igniting a fire of courage I didn’t know I had. The scars from high school throbbed, and before I even registered what I was doing, I was stepping forward. “Say it again,” I demanded, my voice steady in its resolve. A quiet “oh shit” coming from somewhere behind me.

Jordan laughed, a sound that was anything but genuine. “What? You didn’t hear me?” She gave a fake pout, which only infuriated me further. "I said, 'Shouldn't you be off shooting up with your mother? Or maybe picking her up from another crackhouse?”

In less than a heartbeat, I charged, adrenaline coiling tightly in my chest. I lunged at her, and the shock in the crowd reverberated around me like an electric shock. I swept her legs from under her, and in a heartbeat, she was on the ground with a hard thud. “Fuck you!” I came down on her, my fists raining with a furious energy I didn’t know I possessed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd, but they were drowned out by the pounding of my heart. Each punch was cathartic, breaking through years of pent-up anger, old wounds that had never fully healed.

But just as quickly as it had started, it ended. Noah’s arms were around me, pulling me away with a force that startled me back to reality. “Roxy! Stop!” His grip was firm, and his chest was solid against my back. I felt my fists clench and unclench, ready for more, but I made no more attempts. Breathing heavily, I turned to face him.

His large hands cupped my heated cheeks. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, concerned, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface—as if the situation sparked a fierce intensity within him.

Breathless, I nodded, though I could feel the remnants of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the crowd began to murmur and disperse, Noah led me away from the fire, his arm around my waist, gently guiding me toward the makeshift parking lot in the gigantic field we were in. His grip was warm, sending sparks of something undeniable running through me.

Once we reached nicholas’s suv, he opened the door and sat me down in the passenger seat, standing between my thighs like an ever-looming wall of safety. “Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, his brows knitted together in concern, mixing with a hint of admiration that almost made my heart skip.

“I don’t know, Noah. I just…I can’t stand her. She used to do that shit to me in high school. She brought up my mom an—”

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, his expression shifting. “You shouldn’t let her get to you, she’s a fucking basic bitch that peaked in high school.”

I looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening wrap around us. “But she…I just wanted her to know I’m not the same girl she used to pick on anymore.” My breath hitched, the truth of it spilling out, sparking all sorts of feelings I hadn’t yet embraced.

“That much is clear, and I’m proud of you. I won’t lie, That was pretty bad ass.” he said, a slight smile breaking through. “And if I were her, I’d think twice before messing with you again.”

Noah’s words wrapped around me like an embrace, and for a moment, I felt invincible. “She wants you, and it makes me sick. She can’t take you away from me Noah..” I whispered, looking down as the weight of my emotions pressed on my chest.

He stepped even closer, the warmth of his body surrounded me, while his eyes searched mine. “You won’t lose me. You’re my best friend, Roxy. Always.”

“I’m sorry..” I sighed heavily dropping my head in embarrassment. He shook his head, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek. "Don't apologize.” His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a sensation I had often felt around him but never wanted to acknowledge. I turned my face towards his hand, pressing a soft kiss on his palm.

"Thank you for always being there for me," I murmured, my eyes finally meeting with his.

In that moment, something shifted between us. The air crackled with unspoken feelings. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The kiss was soft and sweet, ending way too soon for my liking.

"I've wanted to do that for so long" he smiled, his smooth voice making me crazy. "I've always felt this way, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship." He eyed me almost nervously. Like he was waiting for my rejection.

I lifted my hand, lightly running it up his abdomen feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. I reached his neck, finally cupping his soft cheek in my hand. “Ive always wanted you Noah.” I whisper lightly, a small smile tracing my lips.

He smiled, a mix of relief and anticipation lighting up his handsome face. “You have me.” He whispered, running his big hands up my thighs.

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in again, this time not holding back. His lips were firm and demanding, yet tender, exploring every inch of my mouth as if memorizing the taste of me. I moaned softly, opening my mouth wider, inviting him in. His tongue slid against mine, a sensual battle for dominance that left mine breathless.

My hands roamed over his body, desperate to feel every inch of him. I tugged at his shirt, and he quickly obliged, shrugging it off, revealing his tatted up chest and abs. I couldn't resist running my hands over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

"Wait, not out here" Noah panted, breaking the kiss. "Scoot back"

I needed no further encouragement. I scrambled farther into the back seat, my heart pounding with anticipation. He followed, his eyes dark with lust, slamming the door closed behind him. He wasted no time, capturing my lips again as he pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling his hips.

My fingers fumbled with his belt, eager to release the growing bulge in his jeans. He groaned as I freed his straining cock, stroking it gently, relishing the feel of his hardness in my hand.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his head falling back. "You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this"

I smiled, trailing light kisses over his jaw. "Show me, then.”

With that, he grabbed the hem of my jeans. He slid them down and off, before finally guiding his cock to my already soaking pussy, slowly lowering me onto him, taking him inch by inch. I gasped as he filled me, stretching me deliciously. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements as I began to ride him, my wetness clinging to his shaft.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Your pussy so fucking tight. So perfect." He groaned, pulling my shirt off throwing somewhere in the car.

His words only served to heighten my arousal. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest as I quickened my pace. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my breasts. A breathy moan escaped as he pinched my nipple, taking the other into his warm mouth sucking softly sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck I'm so close," I whimpered, my voice breathless. "I'm gonna cum, Noah please."

He bucked his hips, driving himself deeper into me, at a fast pace. His lips released my nipple with a soft pop, as he groaned against my hot skin "Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it."

As if on cue, my orgasm crashed over me, ripples of pleasure radiating from my core. I cried out, my body trembling as he continued fucking me through it. Soon after he followed suit, his cock throbbing inside me as he came, filling me up.

Breathless and satisfied, I collapsed onto his chest, our hearts pounding in unison. He kissed the top of my head, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his long fingers ran through my hair.

I lifted my head, cupping his cheeks with shaky hands. I kissed his lips softly, a huge smile falling over my lips. “I’m perfect.” He smiled, pecking my lips one last time before reaching for our clothes. We got dressed, and he turned toward me with his perfect smile. “You ready to go back out there?”

I sat quietly for a minute before giving him an answer. “Actually…can we go back home?” He smiled, nodding his head before leaving to round up the rest of the guys. My heart happy that the man I wanted, wanted me back.

[dog-girl-zezora]

My problematic trait is that I will watch chaos unfold around my coworkers and not offer any help unless they look to me for it

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[elftwink]

one major difference i have found between service industry work (in my case food service but this is widely applicable to similar jobs) and other public-facing positions is that the job itself is often very similar because people is the same, it's just in service everyone approaches you already thinking they're right and you're a fucking idiot and its their god given right to disrespect you, where in other positions even if they are not nice to you they usually acknowledge that you know more than them on issues pertaining to your job. like the difference in behaviour from people who see you as serving them vs helping them is unreal. i am doing literally the exact same things. customer is always right mentality did irreparable damage to the fabric of society

[highfantasy-soul]

Dipping my toe into the ofmd s2 finale discourse, so spoilers

Also, if the finale really hurt you and you feel like the writers made an unforgivable decision, then...maybe don't read this and comment all upset? This is just how I viewed the finale, so not saying you've got to be ok with it, but like, also let me feel what I feel too... anyways, disclaimers over.

I think it's such a cool parallel how each of the captain's first-mates went out in very thematically consistent ways to the way they and their captains started out.

Stede was a mythical being - a muppet - a wooden doll who wished to be a real boy. He was firmly in the silly fantasy category of being - nothing he did had any logic (hello sea library that didn't even have little bars to hold his books in place, hello orange cake that used 40 oranges for just the glaze alone) he was sparkly vibes and failing upward through sheer luck (or magic). At the start of Stede's journey, Buttons is there to remind him what piracy is like - mutiny if you aren't a good captain, chewing people's throats out if need be. But Buttons was also there to stare into the sky and feel what was to happen rather than always using data to support his findings.

But Stede wanted to be a hardened pirate.

Ed was Blackbeard - a bloodthirsty, merciless, pirate. A man who was only allowing a single part of himself to be shown/explored. His crew was fiercely loyal, they respected him, and he was taken seriously - because he got shit done through logical actions - logic that Izzy largely influenced. There were always real consequences for Ed and his crew and that's exactly how Izzy liked it. Ed was fascinated by the way Stede and his crew operated in the world and Izzy was horrified by it - you didn't get to be a successful pirate by being a muppet! You got it through blood and struggle - forging your family along the way. You didn't buy your family with a salary and pep talks and you DO NOT WIN DUELS by being so bad at swordplay you let your opponent stab you so their blade gets stuck in the mast and you can win by a technicality!

But Ed wanted to release some of his control and let the whimsy in.

So the characters change throughout the seasons - Stede becomes a 'real boy' and starts to grapple with figuring this stuff out with grit rather than wishful thinking, Ed realizes that the pirate's life isn't making him happy and needs to make a bigger change. Buttons is ready to chew people's throats out with his metal teeth in episode 1, and through the series, he retreats more into the mystical as Stede no longer needs even a hint of his traditionally pirate ways. Izzy realizes Ed doesn't need his harsh advice, it's actually harming him, and Izzy is allowed to release his firm grip on gritty nihilism and explore different parts of himself.

As Stede and Ed grow into their own people, they grow away from what their first-mates need, so their first mates get to truly become themselves. Their trajectories, however, follow the way they lived and what they valued.

Buttons transforms into a bird, being reborn into a new body where he can fully embrace the mysticism without even a hint of gritty reality.

Izzy, he goes out the way he lived - bloody, in battle, the way a pirate 'should'. He went through a transformation as well - one that stayed in line with his character.

To me, it was clear that different characters played by different rules of reality than others - Buttons was a mystical sea witch, Izzy was a gritty 'realistic' pirate.

Buttons became more distant with the crew as he retreated into his mystical being. Izzy grew closer with the crew as he embraced the joys of found family rather than the ever-dangerous life at sea. He embraced the here and now, he embraced - and faced - reality.

Buttons transfigured into a bird because that's how he lived (and how Stede started out) - as a mystical being of the sea, so that is the form his metamorphosis took.

Izzy died in battle because that's how he lived (and how Blackbeard started out) - as a loyal pirate who would fight to the very end, so that's the form his metamorphosis took.

I viewed Button's story as a smaller-scaled foreshadowing of the final episode.

As Izzy's death took place at the end of the season, there was no narrative time to hash out everyone's emotions over it - just like at the end of season 1, they didn't have time to hash out everyone's emotions at Stede leaving them (though with the extended episode count, they did manage to get a bit more in there). Clearly, Season 3 is going to be massively shaped by Izzy's death - just as season 2 was shaped by Ed and Stede's breakup.

We don't know how the writers are going to go forward with the story, and honestly, I don't enjoy speculating on how plot lines are going to be written. But from the writer's comments, it seems to me like there's a good possibility Izzy will still be in the show - and now he's literally buried his past self and is ready for the next iteration of Izzy Hands.

[gilliontidestriderchampionoftheu]

mayor rolan loffin's deal with niklaus was that he would gain his hearts desire, but lose what he valued most, and it makes me wonder if all of his deals work in a similar way.

[mikcschmidt]

I actually have . Much to say abt the monty erasure but I fear I maybe just autistic and overreacting n he will appear in a dlc or something I just love monty so much n him being cut out of that gingerbread cookie ruin art was my last straw ((slash jay

[napsaps-archive]

incoming semi-vent that i will probably end up deleting later

ok so i know im like . usually unbothered by things going on here especially recently like usually i just dont care but like yesterday and really all other similar incidents really got to me and i started thinking about a lot of different things that have made me unhappy and miserable and a lot of it boils down to not unfollowing/blocking people i should and not blocking/reporting anons and not filtering the things i need to and part of it is fomo and i just want to see everything but part of it is also just . falling into that cycle of miserable that a lot of other people seem to be stuck in. and like i was really adamant on blaming other people and getting mad at them for things but like really it's all on me, im not doing what i should be to make myself feel comfortable safe happy etc etc in a space that SHOULD let me be all of that like i should not be crying over this stupid app and the things i see and the general vibe every other night. and yeah most of this is bc im on my period and emotional but like ive talked about it with a lot of people and honestly have been thinking about it for months and i dont think it's an insane line of thought

so basically im just gonna go back to curating really really heavily like i used to (i did kind of fall off the wagon there, i'll admit it) so minimal discourse and neg, even less than im posting currently which is close to none. i dont want to say absolutely no neg ever but a lot of it and other things going on here make my stomach hurt and honestly fuck with my head and i dont want to deal with it anymore and im finally really realizing that i dont HAVE to deal with it anymore. im gonna be way more strict with who i sb and unfollow and hb (something else i also stopped doing), like i'd like to think im usually pretty tolerant and i dont like to ruin mutuals or friendships over disagreements or difference of opinions - and i still won't!! i fully believe we can disagree on some things and still be chill :) - but there are things ive seen that have made me uncomfortable that ive sort of ignored and now im seeing them all the time and its like . yeah i dont want that anymore lol

[girlwiththegreenhat]

tell me you've never had to use skype without telling me you've never had to use skype: you complain about discord

[where-is-caithe]

I've always been transfixed by a charr commander fucking hating Ryland's guts, after the bullshit in Bjora and esp after Drizzlewood I just think that would be cool to explore. However I've never kept a charr commander so it's never been a legitimate option for me EXCEPT. I have Eon. And I have been wanting to insert them more fully into the story. It would be interesting for Eon as well because they have always felt that the Legions abandoned them, similar to what Almorra feels, and that theyve always been another disposable soldier, so having the perfect golden boy doing everything that's been told to him on the other side is something that sounds fun to explore.

[lupismaris]

I'm just gonna complain in the tags tw medical stuff tbd etc

[sukunasweetheart]

i so desperately want to write a dark romance with the concept of consuming as a form of intense, obsessive yet ominously beautiful, love with trueform sukuna.

i want him to love reader so much that he almost wants to literally eat her, and i want her to see it not as something to be terrified of, but to accept and recognise that his desire to devour you is not out of malice, but rather, something of adoration...

his mad infatuation would reveal itself in many, many forms. just by simply looking at you, his eyes darken, and his gaze seems to poke and prod at your soul, constantly analysing and soaking the sight of you into his memories. the way all four of his hands touch you, his searing hot palms smoothing over you, littering deep bruises across, claiming your skin as his canvas, embedding marks that indicate his presence in all and every way possible.

how his lips possessively captures yours, tongue twisting around in your mouth - sukuna kisses you with a type of hunger that goes unmatched by anybody else-- his engagements with you are all-consuming, meaning that he doesn't let you get a moment to think about anything else, too pre-occupied with his flames that lick up at your flesh, threatening to burn you down to cinders with its intensity, unmerciful. and when his teeth sinks in, a cry escapes your throat - a cry that isn't pleading for help, but is pleading for more.

sukuna's adam's apple would bob up and down as he swallows dryly, enduring another night of wishing to absolutely devour you whole, and leave nothing of you behind. it certainly doesn't help that you encourage him, egg him on.

he mustn't- he mustn't- he mustn't--

for who will comfort him from the loneliness that would follow, if he loses you to himself?

he satiates his aching desires by lapping up your honey-sweet blood from your inflicted bite wounds, addicted to your unique, intoxicating flavour.

you smile deliriously, like a madwoman, helplessly enamoured by sukuna's dangerous, distorted, yet an undeniably powerful form of his love.

Masterlist

[ninibeingdelulu]

Unwanted emotions ✧

Plot: You’re Sukuna’s new concubine.

A/N: heian era / true form sukuna

In Sukuna's lavish palace chambers, the air was thick with exotic incense and the musky scent of sex.

He lounged on plush silk cushions, his muscular arms draped lazily over the scantily-dressed women squirming against his powerful frame.

One concubine trailed kishy kisses along his chiseled abs, her tongue teasing the strange tendril mouths above his navel.

But Sukuna's gaze drifted in bored disinterest. These women, for all their excessive praise and fake desire, failed to truly ignite that deep, burning hunger he ached for down in his very soul.

Their affections were empty and rehearsed - too afraid to look past the monster and see the conflicted man craving something more than just physical pleasure.

Perhaps that's why his strange red eyes kept wandering over to you, the newest and plainest concubine tucked in the corner.

An unadorned beauty with an innocent charm that somehow snagged his restless focus like nothing else.

The other women put on exaggerated shows of flattery and lust while you seemed sweetly oblivious, simply existing in your natural, unashamed state.

A pure, unpolished gem shining amongst these hollow pretty things.

There was a graceful vulnerability about your naive wonder at everything around you that wormed its way under Sukuna's skin.

Yet the idea that something as delicate and wholesome as your radiant presence could somehow reach the twisted, blackened depths of his cursed spirit felt like blasphemy too vile to entertain.

He was an incarnation of violence and destruction. A bringer of bloody havoc spawned from humanity's darkest fears and malice to reign over their inevitable extinction.

He was meant to corrupt and decimate mere flickering human sparks underfoot...Not wilt under the glow of something so untainted and sacred.

And still, your serene, unguarded gaze would rise innocently to meet his searing crimson stare.

Brimming with curiosity and something that almost looked like shy tenderness stirring in your big, soulful eyes despite the monster boring into you with hungry intensity.

That was when Sukuna felt his carefully constructed walls shake with a tempestuous tide of self-loathing and shameful longing. A maelstrom of ruinous desire echoing tauntingly on repeat:

How does something so frail and hopelessly fragile dare to have a living curse like me think impure thoughts about defiling her light? I who am the embodiment of every vile evil spawned to subjugate what pathetic existence dares to carry on...

Yet this pitiful human woman insists on smiling those soft, clueless little smiles at a monster - far too unholy to feel anything more than wicked temptation to defile her right here in this den of sin...

A rasping snarl ripped from the darkest, most twisted depths of Sukuna's ruined soul.

One clawed, monstrous hand flexed with the urge to reach out and crush the sickening lure of your radiance tempting that last shard of buried humanity entombed in nightmarish lightlessness--

Until that solitary, smoldering ember of depravity flared blinding and all-consuming in the wake of his ravenous yearning.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄… | xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/Deltanpopo on twitter ! ❀

[ A coy thing, you are, daring to lie to them about your wellbeing. ]

— "I'm alright."

A scoff leaves XIAO's lips at your swift words, his mouth curling into a sneer, one absent of a smirk. His arms crossed over his chest, dark shadows cast over his eyes. "Come again?"

His glare was intense - dangerous, its malice not directed towards you, but instead to whatever had made you like... this. You could shield your form from his piercing gaze all you wanted. It'd do nothing to deter him. The knowledge he held of your character, the way your voice gave the slightest tremor, and the way your eyes slipped from his own... he let out a noise of annoyance.

"As I said, Xiao. I'm fine."

You were't a good liar. At least, from his knowing view. Unacceptable. His lashes fluttered as his eyes narrowed. Was he not reliable enough for the truth? Why was it that you'd refuse his assistance while you were clearly suffering?

"No." His voice was decisive, cold, but not in the manner of harsh, unforgiving ice, but the morning frost that bloomed on the dewy stalks of riverside reeds. "You aren't."

He felt your gaze pause at his lips, yet did not rise to meet his own. Your own mouth quivered, just the slightest, and you downcast eyes that glistened flicked their attention to the ground. "Xiao, I..."

You voice trails off. There's no need to say more. For you stood, enveloped in the adeptus' rare embrace, his pale skin cool, yet sparking an unquenchable warmth within your chest.

"If you aren't okay, that's okay. I'll just have to hold you in my arms, until you are." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

A laugh escapes CHILDE's parted lips, a rather empty sound that resounded in your silence. It continues for a couple brief moments. "Ah, you're kidding, right?" He breaks into a smile that fades at the lack of your response. "Right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" You sighed, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. "I'm serious, Childe. I said I was fine." His gaze bore into you, to the point where you could feel your body smolder under his eyes. You shouldn't look at him now. Pursing your lips, you strengthened your resolve, but a moment of weakness upon hearing his shallow laughter was all it took to glance upwards. To meet his gaze.

A grave mistake, you had just unwittingly committed.

Before you could turn your head away, Childe's hand's caught you, one of them grabbing onto your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. "Say," his voice was low, quiet. A telltale sign of the anger that simmered underneath. "When did you get the notion that you'd be allowed to lie to me, and then get away with it scot-free, huh?"

The moment he had met your fleeting gaze, eyes locked onto yours, your verdict had been decided. Guilty. "Childe, it wasn't that I..."

"Oh, is it something you can't tell me, then?" His voice was softer now, but not in a threatening way, eyes melting with concern. Yes as much as he'd love to get at whatever - or whoever had made you so upset, he had a higher task of importance as of now. And that was to comfort the person before him, tentative under his touch. He slowly released his hold on your chin, instead giving your hair a ruffle that caused your locks to fly in disarray. "If so, then I won't push you anymore."

"I've... I've just had a really long day and-"

Your words lost their sound as instead, warmth replaced the quiet. Childe held you in his arms, delicately, like you were made of porcelain, and the slightest touch would shatter you. For someone as brash as him, to now stay silent, letting you let out all the world's concerns in his embrace...

"I won't say anything, alright? Just let it all out, and I'll listen." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

At first, SCARAMOUCHE almost looks offended at your words. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are drawn into a scowl. "What, care to repeat that? It's funny how you think you're fooling anyone."

It takes a moment to find your voice again, with how intense his eyes stare into you - indigo, flashing with electro power. Mesmerizing, dangerous, lethal if you drew too close. It didn't matter you supposed, you had already been in his reach for far longer than you cared to admit, and you had yet to be burnt away. "...I'm alright, nothing happened."

This time, your answer drew a startling laugh that bubbled from deep within him, a carnal yet almost melodious sound that flowed like water and blazed like flames. "Ah, that's funny. You've been hanging around the other Fatui, haven't you?" His gaze narrowed in distaste. "Disgusting, all of them. And from the likes of it, you've been picking up some nasty habits as well. Speaking nothing but the truth to me should be a given, yet you're saying such things without the slightest guilty conscience... I couldn't help but laugh!"

Guilty conscience my ass. Of course it took something out of you to lie to your.. lover. Yes, despite it all, Scaramouche was the one you were joined hands with - even in the male didn't act like it. Or perhaps he did, in a world of his own masked away in a guise behind a guise. His spark just drew you closer.

"Scara, you wouldn't understand...!" Don't get aggravated, keep your voice composed, steady. "It's... it's something personal, alright? I just.. I just don't want to talk about it right now. Give me time, please."

Please? His maniacal expression dimmed as he paused, just a brief moment. He hadn't hurt you, had he? No, you knew him well, well enough to know that that was just the person he was, didn't you? "...So it was like that?" He tried to hide his apologetic expression with a hand over the lower half of his face, but his eyes glistened regardless.

"Ah, just forget about it. If you're hurting, then... Come here, all right? I'll humor you, just for tonight." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) okay okay so. i. im gonna try and post a fic every day this week. spoiler alert: its fucking exam week BUTBUT BUT im so close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be so silly if we could hit it before new years!! that's why im gonna be listening to burnout playlists while typing away like my life depends on it.// wish me luck on my exams ahah. theyre tommorrow.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[ms-demeanor]

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.