#Building Violation Removal

[supremebricksblog]

Building Violation Removal Service

Building violations be gone! Say hello to Supreme Brick's top-notch violation removal service. They'll kick those pesky violations to the curb and leave your property squeaky clean! Trust us; it's like magic! With their expertise, you can wave goodbye to those stress-inducing violations!

[staff]

A message from a few of the trans staff at Tumblr & Automattic:

We want trans people, and LGBTQ+ people broadly, to feel welcome on Tumblr, in part because we as trans people at Tumblr and Automattic want it to be a space where we ourselves feel included. We want to feel like this is a platform that supports us and fights for our safety. Tumblr is made brighter and more vibrant by your presence, and the LGBTQ+ folks who help run it are fighting all the time for this, for you, internally. 

A few days ago, Matt Mullenweg (the CEO of Automattic, Tumblr’s parent company) responded to a user’s ask about an account suspension in a way that negatively affected Tumblr’s LGBTQ+ community. We believe that Matt's response to this ask and his continued commentary has been unwarranted and harmful. Tumblr staff do not comment on moderation decisions as a matter of policy for a variety of reasons—including the privacy of those involved, and the practicalities of moderating thousands of reports a day. The downside of this policy is that it is very easy for rumors and incorrect information about actions taken by our Trust & Safety team to spread unchecked. Given this, we want to clarify a few different pieces of this situation:

The reality of predstrogen's suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension.

Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.

Last year, the "mature" and "sexual themes" community labels were erroneously applied to some users' posts. An outside team of contractors tasked with applying community labels to posts were responsible for this larger trend of mislabeling trans-related content. When our Trust & Safety team discovered this issue (thanks largely to reports from the community), we removed the contracted team’s ability to apply community labels and added more oversight to ensure it does not happen again. In the Staff post about this, LGBTQ+ staff pushed to be more transparent but were overruled by leadership. The termination of a contractor mentioned in the original ask response was for an unrelated incident which was incorrectly attributed to this case. We regret that the mislabeling ever happened, and the negative impact it has had on the trans community on Tumblr. 

Transition timelines are not against our community guidelines, and weren’t a factor considered by the moderation team when discussing suspensions and subsequent appeals. We do not take action against content that is related to transitioning or trans bodies unless it includes violations of the Community Guidelines.

When it comes to the experience of trans folks on Tumblr encountering transphobic content, and interacting with bigoted users, we understand and share your frustrations. Tumblr’s policies, and Automattic’s policies, are written to ensure freedom of speech and expression. We prohibit harassment as defined in our Community Guidelines, but we know that this policy falls short of protecting users from the wider scope of harmful speech often used against LGBTQ+ and other marginalized people.

Going forward, Tumblr is taking the following actions:

Prioritizing anti-harassment features that will empower users to more effectively protect themselves from harassment.

Building more internal tooling for us as Staff to proactively identify and mitigate instances of harassment.

Reviewing which of the tags frequently used by the trans community are blocked, and working to make them available next week.

We’re sorry for how this all transpired, and we’re actively fighting to make our voices heard more and prevent something like this from happening again in the future. We know firsthand that having to deal with situations like this as a Tumblr user is difficult, particularly as a member of an already frequently targeted and harassed community. We know it will take time to regain your trust, and we’re going to put in the work to rebuild it.

We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it.

We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.

— This statement was authored by multiple trans employees of Tumblr and Automattic.

[eandemgt]

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[townpostin]

JNAC Cracks Down on Building Violations in Sakchi

Officials Target Unauthorized Commercial Use of Basements Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee enforces building regulations, converting misused basements into mandated parking spaces in Sakchi area. JAMSHEDPUR – The Jamshedpur Notified Area Committee (JNAC) has intensified its efforts to address map deviations in commercial buildings, focusing on the Sakchi district. Monday marked a significant…

[deadpresidents]

"What emerged in two interviews with Trump, and conversations with more than a dozen of his closest advisers and confidants, were the outlines of an imperial presidency that would reshape America and its role in the world. To carry out a deportation operation designed to remove more than 11 millions people from the country, Trump told me, he would be willing to build migrant detention camps and deploy the U.S. military, both at the border and inland. He would let red states monitor women's pregnancies and prosecute those who violate abortion bans. He would, at his personal discretion, withhold funds appropriated by Congress, according to top advisers. He would be willing to fire a U.S. Attorney who doesn't carry out his order to prosecute someone, breaking with a tradition of independent law enforcement that dates from America's founding. He is weighing pardons for every one of his supporters accused of attacking the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, more than 800 of whom have pleaded guilty or been convicted by a jury. He might not come to the aid of an attacked ally in Europe or Asia if he felt that country wasn't paying enough for its own defense. He would gut the U.S. civil service, deploy the National Guard to American cities as he sees fit, close the White House pandemic-preparedness office, and staff his Administration with acolytes who back his false assertion that the 2020 election was stolen."

-- "How Far Would He Go", TIME Magazine's interviews with Donald Trump, April 30, 2024.

I know we're saturated in coverage of Trump and it's easy (and probably better for our mental health) to usually ignore most of the articles when we see them, especially since he's so full of shit and infuriating. But it's also important to recognize that he is going to be the Republican nominee for President and he could absolutely be elected in November, and if you thought his first term was scary and dangerous, you need to understand that in a second term he's going to have people around him that are better prepared and VERY willing to do the crazy shit that he wants to do to this country. They aren't even hiding the fact that they are seeking vengeance against political opponents whom they feel have wronged them, and are ready to fundamentally dismantle the democratic foundations that are barely holding this country together after nearly 250 years.

Just look at what Trump says about the people who he incited to attack the United States Capitol in an attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election and halt the peaceful transfer of power that has happened every four years since 1789:

"Trump has sought to recast an insurrectionist riot as an act of patriotism. 'I call them the J-6 patriots,' he say. When I ask whether he would consider pardoning every one of them, he says, 'Yes, absolutely.' As Trump faces dozens of felony charges, including for election interference, conspiracy to defraud the United States, willful retention of national-security secrets, and falsifying business records to conceal hush-money payments, he has tried to turn legal peril into a badge of honor."

Oh, and please note that Trump -- a former President of the United States and possible future President of the United States -- said on the record in these interviews with TIME: "There is a definite antiwhite feeling in the country and that can't be allowed either." We are at a point where political leaders are outright saying that in this country again, and it's because of Donald Trump.

So, take the time to recognize that Trump is straight-up telling us the country we're going to be living in if he wins again in November. And understand that your vote matters -- and WHO you vote for matters -- because, as I've been saying for years now, ELECTIONS HAVE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

UnANTicipated

Male Ant Mimic Spider Hybrid Yandere x Gender Neutral Ant Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, reader mildly drugged by venom, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, oviposition Word Count: 1.3k (Hope you enjoy the buffet of writing I have been cooking up, feel free to tip and please comment!)

On the post-apocalyptic continent that was once the US, almost everyone was a hybrid of human and animal.

There were still pure humans, but they were exceedingly rare.

It was thought that a virus combined with radiation caused the transformation.

You were an ant-hybrid. Unlike an actual ant, you could leave your colony and survive independently, but why would you wanna leave the colony?

You were a small drone, and the soldier ants kept you safe from many mutated beasts. The foragers brought food, and you worked construction! You made tunnels and expanded rooms.

You had never even been outside. There was no reason for you to leave the safety of the colony, you had no tasks out there.

The colony was massive and always growing. That's why you didn't think twice when you met a new ant that you had never met before.

A fellow builder named Echo.

He must have been new to building because he was not good at it all. Seemed his instincts were all wonky. And there was something about how he looked... he was bigger than many of the soldiers you had encountered.

You figured maybe he had been a soldier and suffered some type of injury. Or maybe he had gotten into trouble and removed from the service!

Oh well, he seemed friendly and was clearly putting forth a lot of effort into building.

You didn't want the foreman to yell at the new addition so you taught him everything you knew and supervised his work carefully.

Echo was such a sweetie. A fine member of the colony! You frequently ate lunch together, and he confirmed that he was a former soldier ant that had suffered internal injury. It was all he could do just to build and remain useful to the colony.

What an inspiration.

You always stared at him in wide-eyed admiration as he told you how he had fought victoriously against frog mutants, giant two-headed serpents, and even a rabid rat-bug.

He told you all about sunshine and the river and trees.

It sounded amazing. But no place for someone like you with all that danger lurking about.

You hung out more and more. You hung out after work, too. You always caught him staring at you. Maybe he had a crush on you? The thought made you pretty happy.

A real life kind hearted hero might actually like me!

You began developing a bit of a crush on him.

But your thoughts of romance were put on hold when the kidnappings began.

Apparently, spider mimic hybrids had snuck their way into the colony. Violating everyone's sense of safety. They had evidently taken ants to do who knows what with them!

Everyone was on high alert.

Thank whatever higher power existed that you had Echo at your side! He went with you everywhere to make sure you were safe.

He even suggested becoming roommates! All because he didn't want anything to happen to you.

There was no reason to refuse! You let him move in immediately.

That night, you went to bed like normal. But you woke up somewhere different. On a bed, but not yours. You were bound by some kind of stringy rope and felt a strong set of arms around you.

"Ah! You're awake! Welcome to our little love nest~"

You instantly recognized the voice as Echo.

"Echo? W-what's going on? I'm scared..."

Echo removed the fibrous material that bound you.

"Sorry, my prize. Had to keep you wrapped up and safe on the way here. It was a long trip, but I made sure you were cozy~"

Your head throbbed as you struggled to make sense of what exactly was going on. You became aware of a sore spot on your neck. You put a hand on it and felt a welt.

"Ah, sorry about that, I had to make sure you were still during the trip. No fussy struggles or crying."

Though by then, you were definitely starting to cry.

"You're upsetting me! Just tell me what's going on!!"

Your voice was trembling.

You tried to sit up but found yourself too weak to do so. Echo stepped in front of you and leaned down to your level.

For the first time, you saw the large man for what he actually was. All four of his eyes were open, his fangs flashing, his antenna actually a small set of limbs growing from his back.

Your antenna twitched furiously as you processed this new information.

He chuckled warmly and pet your antenna, causing an unwilling tingle between your legs.

"Oh, you liked that, didn't you?"

You whimpered as he pet you there some more before finally managing to shout.

"What the fuck do you want with me!?"

"What all us ant mimics want, my prize. A nice mate to stuff full of our eggs~"

You tried to struggle. To scream. But he placed webbing over your mouth before peeling off your clothing and pinning you to the bed.

"Shhh darling, you have such an easy task. Just calm down and take my babies."

He kissed your head to help calm you, though it did nothing to stop your shaking or quell your tears.

"You're so tiny. So perfect. My little trophy."

He took a gob of his thick precum on his fingers and gently massaged it into your entrance. You shuddered and looked at the cock that bobbed below him.

Definitely not an ant. It was huge and reinforced your fear. But you were in good hands. He made sure you were well stretched before proceeding.

Echo repositioned you so that your legs were over his shoulders, he aligned his cock with your hole, and drove deeply into you with a slow and steady movement.

Instantly, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and you whimpered. He really knew how to wield his tool. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that he was pumping out pheromones that had your antenna twitching like crazy.

"Those kinds of sounds are much better to hear from you~"

He thrust in and out of you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size. You made more of those delicious little whimpers he loved so much.

The spider peeled the webbing away from your lips.

"The webbing can come off if you promise to just make those beautiful noises for me~"

He kissed you deeply, tracing your lips with his tongue, trailing kisses down your neck until he was kissing the wound his fangs had left earlier.

"So warm inside~ I just know you'll be a nice snug incubator for my eggs~"

Echo nuzzled against your chest, arms caressing your sides almost greedily as he bred you.

"It was so hard keeping my hands off you before. All those weeks. You have no idea. No idea."

As he spoke he began driving his cock into you a bit more brutally. He just couldn't help himself.

"I didn't lie about those fights I was in. I'm such a strong mate for you, my perfect prize."

His sweaty balls slapped into you with every increasingly fervent thrust. He was desperate to release in you, to claim your insides for himself.

Your incoherent burbling and moans just encouraged him. Auditory evidence that he was the perfect man for you.

He could feel your shuddering around his cock as you came, pulling him quickly over the edge with you.

Echo's cock throbbed and pulsed as he deposited several eggs deep inside you. He pulled out with a loud plop before regarding your belly lovingly.

He kissed it.

You just played with his hair absently, too fucked out to do anything or process what had just happened.

But that was okay, Echo was there to take care of all your needs. Forever.

[nanamiskentos]

The first sign that something was off was the uncharacteristic silence. No footsteps, no grumblings of a medieval sorcerer wreaking havoc in the 21st century. Not even the crash of metal and cables to signify that SUKUNA had once again lost the fight to your little apartment's toaster, and resorted to eating the wiring.

"Sukuna?"

No answer either. That alone was enough to raise some alarm bells, for he was never this quiet.

You found him in the kitchen, crowded like an overgrown wildcat beside your cheap dining table, muttering to himself while trying to balance a massive bundle of wildflowers in one hand, and what looked like. . . a scroll?

You blink rapidly, "What, are you writing me a war declaration?"

Sukuna's russet eyes flick up, caught. His gruff expressions hardens, immediately defensive as if you had already accused him of something distasteful. Like that time you had hissed and scolded him for asking your local butcher for the freshest kills in the one and only time you had taken him grocery shopping with you.

Besides, how had he been aware that the meat merchant would have called the authorities on him? Didn't that puny man know that Sukuna singlehandedly vanquished the Emperor's army in Heian-Kyo, in the great summer of 794?

But now, Sukuna looks vaguely bored, "This is not for you."

You cross your arms, "Really? You're using my pens, I didn't even know you could read, let alone write."

Sukuna snarls, fingers tight around the very strained thin blue biro that promises to snap under the weight of his grasp, "It is an inferior modern implement."

"You're holding it upside down."

Sukuna scowls harder, and if you didn't know better and if you didn't have the King of Curses wrapped around your finger, you would assume he was trying to pin with you a glare to kill, "I was trying to surprise you."

"Oh my god, are you trying to be a romantic?" You're gaping, hand slapped over your mouth.

Sukuna stands up sharply, almost taking down your new light fixture from IKEA, as he snaps, "Trying? I am not trying. This is romantic. You're just too far removed from true elegance to understand."

"You put a dead pigeon next to the flowers."

"It is a symbolic offering."

"It's a health code violation, Sukuna."

"It shows my devotion."

"It shows I need to call pest control. You know that thing is a disease-carrier, right?"

Sukuna looks genuinely offended, "I went on a quest, woman. I climbbed your building's fire escape to gather the best wild herbs and flora that this macabre city has to offer –"

"That's a bunch of dandelions and one tulip."

"And a sprig of mint, you ungrateful fiend. I charmed the wise woman downstairs for her crops."

You think of your elderly downstairs neighbour, with her crabby attitude, sharp cane and stories of how things were so much better before the Soviets. You proceed to eye Sukuna with glistening, drooling stomach mouth, his four, thick arms, and ink winding over his face, "Somehow, I doubt that. Wait, what's that smell?"

Sukuna turns slowly, curtly giving you a look over his shoulder, "Nothing. Do not concern yourself."

Ah, but lo and behold. In the middle of your expensive non-stick pan, you eye a horribly charred steak, aggressively seasoned with cinnamon, soy sauce, and absurd helpings of instant coffee grounds.

"I heard women like food offerings during a courtship." And mind you, not a hint of shame in Sukuna's proud voice.

"This is what you nearly set my apartment on fire for?"

"Out of affection!"

Sukuna crosses all four arms, swathes of sheer muscle rippling as he does so, "Modern rituals are pointless. In my time, it was proper practice to compose poetry, and bring offerings. A verse beneath a maiden's window at night was a gift of the highest value."

"Is that why you were on my balcony yesterday, and I found a haiku written on spare receipts?"

Sukuna's withering frown deepens, carving into barely flushed skin, "You were the one complaining to that irritating friend of yours last week. How no-one ever does anything nice for you, and everyone has lovers but you. And you missed feeling chosen. So I chose you."

You ignore the traitorous thump! of your heart against your ribcage.

"And your friend, irritating, honestly with a voice like that, and a face so untrustworthy, how one even puts up with that is a question that I wonder at, and –"

"Sukuna."

"Your friend said that if a man does not appear with both flowers and adequate food, he is not serious nor worthy of one's time." Sukuna gestures, as one would point out to a child, to the botanical massacre and blackened meat, "I adapted."

Now your heart is doing traitorous, little twists.

"You're serious?"

Sukuna gives you a look that someone would give to an annoying bug buzzing around a room, bored and avoidant, but the choppy spikes of his blush-pink hair do little to hide the flush darkening on the tips of his ears, "I do not do things halfway."

"So the live cricket in the bouquet. . . ?"

"Represents vitality. Even the village oaf would know that."

You suddenly wonder whether you should flip the gas off from your still searing stove, sending plumes of blackened smoke to stick to your kitchen tiles, "Oh, fuck. My landlord is gonna' kill me."

Sukuna trails after you, a bite of anger in his voice, as he continues to prattle behind you like a large shadow, "What is a landlord? Why is another man lording your land? I am perfectly capable of agricultural management, I had an estate, you know."

NOTE: for the supreme sukuna-wife of my heart @creamflix ❤️

[cressidagrey]

The Attic Room

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Felicity and Oscar broke the same school rules every night for three years. 

Notes and Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mention of Underage Sex.

Big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble 😂

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

They never once got caught. 

In retrospect it bordered on impossible. 

They broke the same school rule every night for three years and never got caught.

Technically, it was about ten different violations rolled into one: curfew, unauthorized presence in dormitories, misuse of the staff staircase, unsupervised cohabitation—plus whatever regulation covered “two students sleeping in the same narrow twin bed every night.”

Technically, boarding students weren’t supposed to sneak into each other’s rooms past curfew.

Definitely not the girls’ dorms.

And absolutely not up the narrow, creaking staircase that led to the attic room at the very top of the oldest building on campus—the one with the slanted ceilings, crooked windows, and that draft in the winter no amount of heating ever fixed.

It started in 2016. 

They were 15. 

Felicity had the worst room in the school.

Everyone said so.

Which was exactly why Felicity got it.

They hadn’t said that out loud, of course. They’d told her it was “for upperclassmen who value quiet” and “a bit removed, but private.” But everyone knew what it meant.

Too intense. Too strange. Too smart. Too hard to place.

So she got the attic.

And she never said it, but she was kind of glad.

It was the attic room—tiny, slanted, too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. The radiator clanked like it was haunted. 

Nobody wanted it.

But she took it. Gratefully. Quietly. Because it was far from the housemistress's office, and it had a door that locked, and because nobody ever checked it after curfew.

Which meant Oscar could get to her.

It had started their second term, when the nightmares were worse than ever—cold sweat, gasping, shaking so hard she once cracked the plastic of her retainer. 

Nobody understood. 

Oscar did.

He had the room three floors below hers and the kind of memory that remembered things no one else noticed—like when her hands started trembling during meals. Like how she never screamed when she woke up, just stared at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed her.

He didn’t climb ivy or scale the gutter pipes or do anything heroic. 

The staircase was ancient and half-blocked by an unused storage room. Nobody patrolled that wing. Nobody cared. Nobody ever noticed the quiet boy with the soft steps and the too-serious eyes slipping into the attic room every night at 11:03 and leaving again at 5:30 a.m., when the world still felt soft and half-dreamed.

And Oscar had always been good at finding the quietest paths.

One night, just past midnight., she heard the stairs creak.

Carefully. Slowly. One by one.

Then the soft knock—two short, one long. The knock they’d agreed on in whispered study halls and library corners.

When she opened the door, he looked  sleepy, hair a mess and hoodie half-zipped. He didn’t say anything. Just held out a hand, and when she took it, he crawled into the too-small twin bed like he belonged there.

And he did.

For three years, he came to her every single night he was at Haileybury…when he wasn’t busy racing. 

Never missed one. Not even during exam weeks or rainy nights or the time he twisted his ankle during a cricket match and still limped his way up four flights of stairs just so she wouldn’t have to fall asleep alone.

They broke every rule in the book. 

No visitors. No lights after hours. No boys in girls’ quarters. But nobody checked the attic. Nobody cared about the girl in the room with the water-stained ceiling. 

They should have. That room was where everything happened.

It was where she learned to sleep through the night, tucked into his chest.

They never really meant for anything to happen.

At first, he just held her. Let her shake. Let her breathe. Let her fall asleep in the curl of his body, warm and steady and safe, which had never really meant anything to her before he showed up and made it mean everything.

Oscar never asked what the dreams were about. Never tried to fix them. He just climbed in beside her like that tiny bed was big enough for both of them, and wrapped an arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it worked.

The nightmares didn’t go away—but they didn’t swallow her whole either. Not when she had something to hold onto. Someone.

They slept chest to back, tangled knees, breath synced so closely that sometimes she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. He’d press a kiss to the back of her neck before falling asleep. She never told him, but it was the one thing that could stop her shaking on the bad nights.

Then came their first kiss.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just…inevitable.

They were talking, forehead to forehead, knees knocking together, and she was laughing about something—soft and breathless and alive—and he looked at her like she hung the moon. And then he kissed her like he’d been waiting to his whole life.

And maybe he had. 

She never forgot the way he looked afterward either—rumpled and pink-cheeked and stunned with affection, like he couldn’t believe this was his life.

Sometimes she still couldn’t believe it either.

Their first time had been there too.

Months later, she held his hand and whispered “yes” when he asked if this—they—were ready. It was clumsy and sweet and quiet and a little too fast and a little too intense and everything they were at sixteen.

Afterward, he kissed her shoulder and whispered, “I love you.”

She whispered it back.

And the radiator clanked like a blessing.

***

Oscar hadn’t realized how badly he missed her until he saw her again.

He had counted the days.

Every single one of them.

47 days since he’d last seen Fliss—since they’d curled up together in the too-small twin bed beneath the sloped roof of her attic room, limbs tangled and breathing steady. 

47 days since Felicity had kissed his collarbone and murmured sleepily about constellations and university applications and how this time next year, they’d be free.

No phone. No texts. A few letters—clinical, cautious. Like someone else had read them first. Which he knew, deep down, was probably true

So he’d waited. And counted.

And now, finally, they were back at Haileybury.

It was the first day back in their last year—mid-September, hot and dragging—and the courtyard was full of luggage and overlapping greetings and housemasters calling names over the din. But he only saw her.

Felicity.

Standing by the edge of the courtyard, her usual navy cardigan pulled tight around her frame, hair half-tied like she’d done it in a moving car. Her shoulders were hunched, eyes down, like she was already trying to disappear.

And she was so thin.

Thinner than she’d been in June. Her cheeks hollowed out. Collarbones sharp against the fabric of her shirt. Her smile—when she finally met his eyes—was more ghost than real.

He didn’t say anything then. Just walked up to her, let his bag drop to the grass, and wrapped his arms around her without a word.

She flinched.

Just slightly. A twitch.

And then melted into him like she’d been holding her breath all summer and had only just remembered how to exhale.

That night, after lights out, he took the old staircase like always. Avoided the creaking steps. Knew just where to press his palm against the wood to close the attic door without a sound.

She was already curled on the bed when he slipped inside, the blanket pulled halfway up her chest. A glass of water sat untouched on her nightstand.

She smiled when she saw him.

Not a ghost this time.

Something real.

He crossed the room in two steps and kissed her forehead. “Hi.”

And she flinched.

Not just startled. Flinched—like she expected pain. Like she’d learned it.

Oscar’s heart sank so fast it felt like gravity had doubled.

He knelt in front of her.

��Fliss.”

Silence.

“Will you let me see?”

At first, he didn’t think she would. But then—wordless, trembling—she reached for the buttons of her cardigan and peeled it off. Then the shirt beneath it. She turned around slowly, like her body had betrayed her and she was apologizing for it.

Oscar’s world cracked.

He stopped breathing.

Her back was covered in it.

Belt marks. Raised and raw. Some healing, some new. Deep bruises blooming across her ribs and lower spine. Angry, broken skin that had clearly been left untreated. One cut near her shoulder blade looked infected—swollen, red, and weeping.

Oscar sat perfectly still.

Then: “Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay. Alright. We’re going to fix this.”

He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t press. She was already trembling too hard, and he couldn’t stand the thought of adding more weight to her bones.

He found the first aid kit she always kept under the sink, the one they’d used before for sprained wrists and stress headaches. He opened it without asking. Laid out what he needed.

Antiseptic. Cream. Gauze. He cleaned each wound as gently as he could, whispering soft apologies every time she hissed in pain.

Her breathing stayed shallow. She didn’t cry. Just stared at the wall like it would crack open and swallow her whole.

When he was done, he wrapped his arms around her without asking.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t ask why. He didn’t need to.

He knew what summer meant for her. He’d always known.

Oscar had always known Felicity’s parents were strict.

Not the "no phones at dinner" kind of strict. Not the "home by curfew" kind. 

It was the kind of strict that hollowed a person out from the inside and called it raising them right.

They expected brilliance—flawless, polished, relentless brilliance. 

First in every class, head of every club, effortless perfection. A girl who made top marks while staying quiet. Who looked put-together but never proud. Who never cried. Never stumbled. Never once failed.

Felicity had learned early on that there was no room for error. That being exceptional was survival. Anything less—anything merely good—was met with disappointment. Silence. Or worse.

Oscar had known this.

But this… this was different.

This was escalation.

This was not getting better.

“Was it your dad?” he asked quietly, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

She hesitated. Then said, “Yes.”

“Jesus, Fliss—”

“I failed chemistry,” she whispered.

Oscar stared at her.

“What?”

“I got an ninety-three. They told me to get over ninety-five. I didn’t. I made a mistake on the equations.” She said it like it was a confession. Like she'd crashed a car. Like she'd burned a house down.

“That’s—Fliss, that’s—” His voice broke. “You don’t get beaten for a test score.”

She wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to stay upright. “In my house, you do. I missed one question,” she said, voice brittle. “And then they said I didn’t smile enough at the dinner party they hosted for the ambassador. That I embarrassed them.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“They said I disappoint them, and then they reminded me of the consequences. And I always think—next time I’ll get it right. But I never do.”

Oscar’s throat burned.

“I watched my mum count calories for me when I was ten,” she added. “I’ve had tutors since I was five. I’m not allowed to decorate my room at home. I’ve never been allowed to choose what I wear, or how to cut my hair. When I told them I didn’t want to apply to Oxford—when I said I wanted to take a gap year and learn how to fix cars—they locked me in my room for three days and said I’d thank them later.”

She wasn’t crying. But he was.

Because she said it all like it was normal. Like it was her fault.

And he’d always known her parents were strict. But this was control. This was abuse. This was someone taking every beautiful, brilliant part of her and trying to hammer it into something that performed on command.

“They told me if I wasn’t brilliant, I was nothing. That I was already a disappointment because I’m not beautiful. So I have to be perfect. Or there’s no point.”

Oscar closed his eyes. Just for a second. To keep from screaming.

He reached forward and very gently touched the edge of one of the cuts.

“You’re not a disappointment,” he said. “And you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t even have to be good. You just have to be.”

Her chin trembled.

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. This isn’t on you. This is on them. For treating you like something to control. Something to sharpen until you bleed.”

Oscar couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to shake the world. To drag her parents out into the open and make them see what they’d done. To tear down the foundation of every expectation they’d ever poisoned her with.

“You’re okay,” he murmured. “You’re here. I’ve got you.”

She buried her face in his shirt.

Oscar didn’t let go for a long time.

And when he finally pulled back, when he gently cupped her jaw and tilted her chin up so she would look at him, his voice was steady in a way it had never been before. 

“This is the last summer they’ll ever get,” he said. “I swear to you. Never again.”

Felicity blinked.

“We turn eighteen in April,” he said. “We graduate in May. You’re not going back there. I don’t care what we have to do. I’ll figure it out. I’ll talk to someone. I’ll go to hell and back if I have to, but I’m not letting you walk back into that house ever again.”

She shook her head, not in disagreement but disbelief. “Oscar, they’re my parents.”

“They don’t deserve to be.”

She was crying now. Silently. One tear slipping after another, like she couldn’t stop them anymore.

Oscar wiped them away with his thumb. Kissed her forehead.

Then her cheek.

Then the corner of her mouth.

And when she finally kissed him back, it wasn’t out of gratitude or desperation—it was out of the smallest flicker of belief that maybe, just maybe, he meant it.

That maybe she’d make it.

That maybe they’d make it.

Later, after she fell asleep curled against him in that terrible twin bed—bandaged, exhausted, but warm—Oscar lay awake staring at the ceiling, already planning. April 6th. Their eighteenth birthday. May 26th. Graduation.

They just had to make it until then.

And then she was his to protect.

No more hidden bruises. No more whispered excuses. No more being punished for being human.

Never again.

***

They never got caught.

 Not by the housemistress, not the prefects, not even by the one teacher who everyone swore was ex-MI6.

Felicity still didn’t know how they never got caught.

Maybe it was dumb luck. Maybe it was the universe offering them one small miracle. Maybe the housemistress knew all along and simply never said anything.

It was the worst room in the school.But it was where Felicity Leong found everything.

[supremebricksblog]

Enhancing Property Compliance: The Role of a Building Violation Removal Construction Company

The scope of building violation removal services provided by Supreme Brick is extensive. From thorough property assessments to crafting tailored remediation strategies, we offer end-to-end solutions that relieve property owners of the burdensome task of compliance management.

[23xfgg]

YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER

(Ch. 1)

(Ch. 2)

(Ch. 3)

Ch. 3.o5 <-

Alpha // this chapter is going to take a more of a sadder route because I need to lay some bricks down for the framing of chapter 4.

Tag list is till open but will close by chapter 5 (if we ever get there) so just comment if you still want to be apart of the taglist or nah

Also here is some tissues if needed [insert box of tissues emoji because apple doesn’t have one] !!!

ENJOY THE CHAPTER 🐺🐺🐺‼️‼️‼️‼️

Edit: I forgot the TW// mentions of death, drug use, alcohol consumption, more mentions of death and gore, mentions of body/ corpse mutilation, and borderline suicidal thoughts.

It’s been a very off week.

Nothing especially bad has happen but the week just felt bad. Well, a couple of your stashes across Gotham got raided but that not something you are really hung up on.

But the week was just bad.

Every day through out the week just felt draining. It was the same routine over and over again. Wake up -> avoid the family and skip breakfast -> go to school (avoid Tim, Damian and Duke) -> walk home once school ends -> get ready (again) -> do drugs at some underground pit -> sneak back in so Alfred or any other member of the bat family doen’t catch you or raise suspicions -> sleep -> repeat. Even though the highs are worth it, dome days you just feel like an empty husk doing whatever you normally do to get by. And these days you don’t even have the energy to even properly get the sort of comfort that the drugs bring you or even go to see your only friend. So you just spend the night in your room surrounded by yourself and your thoughts. You are not completely sober when its just you in your room, you still have the alcohol stash hidden underneath the loose floor boards under your bed. But even so, when its just you alone in your room with a bottle of alcohol your thoughts get pretty dark. Thoughts about your mother’s death, thoughts about how you would die, gore and who would you piss off enough to get your organs removed and have your corpse mutilated and/or violated and left in a random ditch in crime ally. Overall just dark thoughts that you just lay there spiralling in those thoughts until the morning. Sometimes you wish that you take a swig of alcohol its goes down the wrong pipe and it kills you leaving your body to rot one top of the overpriced mattress in your room.

Your routine is the same, your habits are the same and it just gets boring. You just want to switch it up.

That’s what lead you to some abandoned building in Gotham shearing a blunt and some whisky with Adam. Sure its the same routine but its a different location so its with someone so its wayyy better than before.

You meet Adam when you first stumbled on that drug pit. He has been there for years and it was your first time. He offered you a puff on his blunt while you looked so nervous other people there thought you were undercover for cops. Over a time you have gotten close to the young adult and see him as some sort of a brother figure while he sees you as a little sister. The relationship dynamic between both of you being clear as day towards the other drug users. All to the point that if one of you turns up at the pit and cannot find the other right away someone else who is there might be kind enough to point out where you were or if you have arrived yet. Maybe if you both meet at a different time instead of that night you probably won’t have been friends or maybe you would…you don’t know and you don’t want to ponder on it for too long…it’s killing your buzz.

You pass the blunt off to Adam and watched as he takes a longer drag than he normally does, holding it for longer and then finally exhaling. You thought maybe your perspective of time is messed up and everything was in more of a slow motion in your perspective compared to reality. But that doesn’t change you noticing how his eyes appear more sunken, his hands more fidgety and that conflicting look he has in his eyes like he wants to say something but he doesn’t want to or he can’t. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong only to be passed the blunt again. Well if he wanted to tell you anything he would, so clearly what ever is on his mind is not for you to hear. So in turn you dismissed the thought and the both of you continued the simple rotation of drinking and smoking, smoking and drinking in the silence you have grown to appreciate with him.

20 minutes go buy and you crack open a new bottle that you may or may not have stolen from Bruce’s liquor cabinet (he won’t notice he doesn’t drink), and just as the liquor was about to go down your throat that’s when he said it.

“I’m going sober.”

In the sudden shock the whisky goes down the wrong pipe and giving you a coughing fit that could have killed you. Once you were done with an inch of your life left you turned to the 20 sumthing year old male next to you with eyes so wide it looks like you had your eyes hallowed out. (🐺: 😨).

“W-what?” You stuttered out still feeling the effect of that 1875 whisky entering your lungs instead of your stomach.

“I’m going sober.” Adam repeated matter of factly like it was a normal conversation topic to bring up. “And before you ask if it’s a sudden decision the answers answer is no. I have been thinking about it for almost a month now…” he says grabbing the bottle from you and taking a swig from it wincing at how strong the liquor was.

“May I ask why…I mean you showed no indication that this was a decision that would come up.” You asked back trying to find a reason on why he would want to do this and why are you losing the only genuine friend you have.

“My brother died last month. Mugging at night.” Adam responds. “He has a wife and a two month old that he left behind and our parents are assholes would won’t help their own daughter-in-law because of some fucked up reason I don’t know of.” The reason shocks you. You have heard of his brother but that was only in passing when the two of you walk the streets of Gotham and Adam sees something that reminds him of his childhood. You don’t respond because in reality you don’t know how.

You knew he had a good relationship with his brother despite those arguments they have about Adam needing to become sober. Those arguments leaving to two brothers to not talk for months until one breaks the silence and reaches out. And in all honesty you knew what’s it’s like to loose someone but you can barely remember what your mom looked, sounds or acted like and you burry everything with drugs, alcohol and more drugs unable or not wanting to grieve.

Adam takes note of your silence and understands why you are not responding he is not looking for pity or anything he just doesn’t need that.

“I have to step up for my nice and my sister-in-law. She has no one else to turn to and she can’t take care of a two month old and go to work at the same time…” He continues. Taking in your silence as the green light to continue speaking. “Even though I’m only a high school graduate and have a pretty bad track record with substance abuse…I want to try. For my brother, my niece and my sister-in-law Nimura. Because I want her to know she at least has someone supporting her.”

It was unintentional but the stung. For multiple reasons: the fact that you are loosing a friend, someone you cared for and who supported you despite your addiction, and jealousy / envy you ere envious of the fact that some people actually have people that can support them during hard times. You wanted that for yourself. You wanted some to rely on. You wanted someone to notice, help and make time for you like Adam is planning to do with his niece and his sister-in-law. You live in a whole manor full of people and the only thing a child who lost their mother wants did not happen with you. You just wanted her back…you wanted your mum back but you can’t.

Maybe because your high your emotions are heightened but the realisation hits you like a truck… knowing you can’t see your mom again and that for “family” can’t or won’t help you through it. Pools start to form around you eyes threatening to spill when a hand start to caress your cheek.

“Aww are you going to miss me?” Adam pulls you out of your mind zone with that joking tone that would normally be used between siblings. Rapidly blinks away your tears you push away his hand from your face and scoffed out a no in the same joking tone he used towards you while repositioning yourself to be lying down on the floor staring and the popcorn ceiling above you. Adam lets out a chuckle as he lies down next to you staring at the same ceiling.

You both returned to that comfortable silence before it was broken by a simple question. “Are you going to try be anything once you become sober?” You questioned the man next to you as you turn you head to face his side profile, he continues to look onwards.

“Maybe…I never really had an interest in anything before all of the so I will probably try out college and see how things go on from there…what about you?” Adam responded. It’s clear that he had never gave the thought of amounting to anything much…thought but to have the question then pointed at you sent you thinking as you looked back at the ceiling.

“I don’t know…never gave it much thought. I’m probably going to die from overdosing. Dying Yong and pretty sounds like a dream.” You responded back brushing the topic off like it’s already written in stone that you will die with a liquor bottle in your hand.

“No. Seriously what do you want to be. Before all of this…what would you tell your mom you wanted to be when you were younger?” Adam responded in a more serious tone than before. Like he was trying to get you to actually think and give him a good response.

“Umm…wow! Okay-“ You spluttered out in shock with his tone. “Umm probably something to do with chemistry because that’s what she worked in. So either a cosmetic chemist or a pharmacist given my wide arrange of drug knowledge.” You responded hearing the rustling of this clothes and a simple hum like he is satisfied with your answer.

After what felt like hours of you expecting a response from him, Adam finally responded with “You can still be that you know…You still have a chance to be something…someone and move on.”

“I don’t think I can…being left with my own thoughts is too much.” And to be fair you have considered it once… getting clean and actually progressing with your like but you would always fall back on those plans for whatever excuse you can make up because your own thoughts are too much.

“Sure you can…you just don’t have a reasonable drive to do so. If you can’t do it for yourself do it for your mom. Sure she would be proud about the fact that you are at least trying to be better.” And those words made you think. Thinking about how would your mom react to you doing drugs? How would she help? Would she send you to those camps or would she put you in therapy? Would you even be on drugs if she was around? Questions that made you think for what only felt like a short while but in reality it was over ten minutes. You only seem to slightly register that when Adam pored out the half drunk bottle of whiskey in one of the dingy corners of the room and said his goodbyes asking you to keep in touch no matter what your decision is because you both need friends and to message him when you get home safely.

After he left you thought about everything you used to do with your mom: the baking, the park trips, the girls night, tea parties and even just watching her get dolled up just because it was a Sunday and she had nothing better to do. And even her death. All those memories, slowly fading with time made you realise how much you missed your mom. You knew that she would never be mad at you but that does stop you from thinking about how disappointed she is looking down on you right now.

And as all this was clouding your mind tears slipped past your eyes and rand down your face. Small whimpers left your mouth as the blunt slipped from your hands and onto the ground next to you and more and more tears rolled down your face. And with all those tears you only managed one complete sentence…

“I miss you mama…”

Alpha: RAH I ACTUALLY COMPLETED THIS ‼️‼️‼️ I WAS THIS CLOSE ON JUST NOT CONTINUING THE THIS IF I DIDNT WRITE THIS CHAPTER

Hopefully that made you guys cry a little (it did me) because I used up all my brain power on this so now I need to think about chapter 4 😭😭😭

Taglist (status: open) - if your tag is not working or I forgot you please tell me in the comments and I will have it updated if I can😔

@welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi @cxcilla @moon0goddess @sadeem575 @galaxypurplerose @zeros-rot @visualchu @lostsomewhereinthegarden @waterberryss @burningkittenprince @91-kya @scoutyyy @haileybugulug @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dakotali @tcddszn @ninabinna @irenehart02

Now see you my beautiful omegas on the next chapter

ALPHA OUT BWE BWE NEWO🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺‼️

[ranidspace]

there's a lot of fear mongering around the new firefox terms of service and privacy policy and most of all of it is bullshit and, just fear mongering. One thing that is concerning however is the following:

Your use of Firefox must follow Mozilla’s Acceptable Use Policy, and you agree that you will not use Firefox to infringe anyone’s rights or violate any applicable laws or regulations.

Before this would only apply to mozilla services such as the matrix chat, firefox send (rip), the vpn, or whatever, but now they are saying it is applied to the browser as well.

And one of the things you shouldn't do according to the policy is, you guessed it:

Upload, download, transmit, display, or grant access to content that includes graphic depictions of sexuality or violence

So mozilla (perhaps accidentally, companies love to do this but also mozilla is kind of stupid), just said you cannot use firefox to browse porn. If it is intentional and they double down on this (which I'm really not sure if they even can, firefox is a program running locally on your computer, it's not a service they can just ban you from or anything like that, again, mozilla is a bit stupid), it's not a reason to use chromium. In the terms of service they also write:

These Terms only apply to the Executable Code version of Firefox, not the Firefox source code.

"the Executable Code" is vague, like does it count if you build it locally on your computer, or is it just the mozilla packaged versions of it downloaded from official sources or whatever idk.

But i think it would make sense forks don't count as the terms apply to "Firefox" and not anything else. So here's some alternative browsers which aren't firefox, but are firefox based:

Librewolf: just firefox, all the crap removed, and lots of privacy features turned on as well. Google is disabled in the search bar, but you can enable it again with a bit of a hack, and by default, history and cookies is cleared when you close it. You can turn that off easily. Basically identical to regular firefox otherwise, it's what i'm currently using.

Zen: Very new but gaining popularity quickly. kind of buggy due to it's recency, but people seem to love it. Main focus is customization, but with improvements in privacy, and speed. Pretty different from other browsers, but that might be what you want.

thats. basically the main two rn. i dont think anything else really would be good for most people and even as someone who really likes to get into things deep with privacy and security and shit i think librewolf is just fine. there's lot of other options but they're kinda all in the categories that these two cover.

While nowhere near in a state to be used as a regular browser, i would keep your eyes on Ladybird which is undergoing the insane challenge of making a web browser from scratch; it's not based on chromium or firefox. The first alpha version is projected to come out next year and it seems very promising.

[mariacallous]

Almost a year ago, Russian border guards removed half the buoys that had been placed to mark the border between Russia and Estonia in the Narva River. Estonia’s government has repeatedly (and politely) reminded Russia to return the buoys, without which users of the Narva River have no way of knowing on which side of the border they are. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Russia has failed to do so.

Altering maritime borders is no trivial matter—especially when Russia is using force to try to redraw the map of Europe.

The Russian border guards arrived in the middle of the night between May 22 and 23, 2024. When they left, they took with them 24 buoys marking Estonia’s border with Russia along the Narva River. Although maritime borders are typically marked only on naval charts, not through visible cues, such buoys have long demarcated the two countries’ maritime border and allow anyone using the Narva River to know which side of the border they are on—which is particularly important for Estonians being careful not to stray into Russian waters.

Before Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the arrangement worked satisfactorily. Since riverbeds shift, every spring—just before the summer season, when all manner of anglers, small-boat owners, and canoeists use the river—the two sides would assess the Narva’s riverbed and correspondingly adjust the light buoys marking the border.

Last spring, Estonia repeated the procedure the way it has done every year. But there was one major difference: In 2023, Russia had declared that it disagreed with Estonia’s proposed positioning of the buoys. So last year, “we decided to release the floating marks into the water for the summer season according to the 2022 agreement, because they are necessary to avoid navigational errors, so that our fishermen and other hobbyists do not accidentally wander into Russian waters,” Eerik Purgel, the head of the Estonian Border Guard Bureau of the East Prefecture, said in a statement.

Russia, though, objected to the locations of around half of the planned 250 floating marks. What to do? Estonia decided to install the buoys anyway, in Estonian waters, on the basis of the border as it had been agreed in 2022. On May 13, 2024, Estonian authorities installed the first 50 buoys. Nine nights later, the Russian border guards removed half of them. Because the buoys were on the Estonian side, fetching them involved Russian guards intruding into Estonian waters to execute the removal.

Since then, they’ve been gone. Estonia could put them back, but Russia would simply take them away again. Instead, Estonia has been asking Russia to put the buoys back, arguing that they form the official marking of a legitimate border. Russia, alas, has not complied. The maritime border (or rather, its visible part) is gone.

Imagine if Russia or another country had unashamedly removed border markings on land. We’d notice it; in fact, it would be a huge deal, especially if it involved a NATO member state. But until now, water has been different, the borders more flexible and less visible.

Since the early 2010s, China has exploited the world’s lack of attention to maritime borders by starting to build artificial islands in parts of the South China Sea that belong to the Philippines and other countries. It was a blatant violation of internationally agreed borders, but since the construction proceeded gradually, a few concrete layers at a time, no one could think of what, exactly, to do about the violation.

Turning to an arbitral tribunal under the U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea, as the Philippines did, changed nothing: Even though the tribunal unanimously sided with Manila, China simply ignored the ruling. Now China possesses artificial islands, complete with military installations, in these waters.

The buoys place Estonia in a conundrum. Russian nationalists have long indicated that they want to retake the Baltic states, annexed by force in 1940 and not freed until 1991, and they have plenty of advocates in the Kremlin. Removing border buoys is hardly the equivalent of a full-blown invasion, but it’s also not a negligible act. It is, in other words, gray-zone aggression—or, as former Estonian President Toomas Hendrik Ilves calls it, geopolitical microaggression. “It’s another silly game the Russians play,” he told me. “Just in the past few months, we’ve seen them put explosives in sex toys in Lithuania, we’ve seen the shadow fleet, we’ve seen cable cuts, and at the moment there’s a lot of GPS jamming in Estonia. It’s a constant policy of harassment. They’re letting us know that they’re there and can be a problem.”

Removals of maritime borders are far from the only Russia-related headache in the Baltic region these days. For the past 18 months or so, nations in the region have been affected by GPS jamming, most of which originates in Kaliningrad, a Russian exclave sandwiched between Poland and Lithuania. Last year, Estonian authorities received 307 official reports of aviation disruptions, 85 percent of which related to GPS. The cause appears to be Russian jamming to protect its military installations, Estonian authorities say.

Regardless of the cause, GPS disruption poses a risk to aviation. Estonian authorities say civil aviation in Estonian airspace remains safe—if only because pilots and air traffic controllers know how to navigate without GPS. “Fortunately, there was a time before GPS, and people still remember the procedures and the equipment that ensure safety and navigational capability,” Mihkel Haug, a member of the board of the Estonian Air Navigation Services, told public broadcaster ERR News.

And this spring, Polish authorities uncovered Russian-steered aggression involving explosive-laden sex toys. The Polish authorities allege that on instructions from a GRU officer, a Ukrainian residing in Poland had inserted explosives into cosmetics, pillows, and sex toys; driven to Vilnius, Lithuania’s capital; and handed them over to a woman also working for Russia, whose task was to get the items to different places in the region where they would explode and harm, even kill, people.

Last fall, parcel bombs were discovered in airliner facilities in the United Kingdom, Germany, and Poland; prosecutors and intelligence agencies linked the parcels to Russia and said some of the parcels originated in Lithuania, though it’s not clear whether they too had been handled by the as-yet-unidentified woman with the sex toy explosives.

Compared with the risk of explosions, heaven forbid aviation accidents, the removal of maritime border markers may seems manageable. But a border is a border, even if it’s in the water. If Russia can remove the Narva buoys with impunity, it’s likely to conclude that it can disregard or alter other maritime borders, too. The removal of border buoys, though, falls short of the military attacks that NATO was set up to counter, and so does other gray-zone aggression.

“Even getting something onto the NATO agenda as an Article 4 matter is big,” Ilves said. “Even when we were targeted by the big cyberattack in 2007, we were blocked from putting it on the NATO agenda. Whenever we raise issues like these at NATO, we’re being told that it’s just below the level of outright aggression.” NATO’s Article 4 states that the “Parties will consult together whenever, in the opinion of any of them, the territorial integrity, political independence or security of any of the Parties is threatened.”

In The Defender’s Dilemma, I set out ways in which the Western alliance can better detect and counter gray-zone aggression. Many of them include building and enhancing societal resilience. When I wrote the book, I didn’t think of border buoys as vulnerable to gray-zone aggression, but societal resilience can help there, too. Imagine if Russia (or China, for that matter) tried to alter another maritime border and ordinary citizens turned up in such numbers that taking action would result in civilians being harmed or even killed. Ilves has another solution: Europe, he said, needs an organization that focuses on threats that don’t quite meet the level of collective defense under NATO’s Article 5.

Either way, Estonia’s border buoys belong along its side of the maritime border with Russia. If we keep highlighting the issue, the Kremlin might just decide that altering the border isn’t worth the price.

[whosblackcat]

mini thread abt how to help riize & seunghan + info 🩷🫧

note & warning: please don’t engage with ANY content of riize, for example don’t comment in their tiktoks saying “riize is 7” even if your intention is good, it breaks the purpose of the boycott!!

sm will pull fake scandals to distract our attention from the matter, for example as they did with sungchan yesterday! don’t believe anything, exols warned us

tweet the trending tags on twitter!! big official fan accounts always share which ones we have to use

don't buy or watch anything related to riize & sm, we’re boycotting

don’t interact with any post of sm and riize even if it’s to use the tags or supporting the boys, we’re boycotting

all the info of what did one of the persons who sent the death wreaths

ot6 are complaining to the police & government abt the displays and flowers for seunghan in front of the sm building, and according to this person now it's not possible to put them in commercial facilities

sm is buying followers and likes due to the impact of the boycott

ot6 are monitoring every movement and project in every language and reporting them. @/RIIZEUSACENTRE kofi was reported because of them while raising trucks money

seunghan's leaked photo with his girlfriend was leaked by hybe

riize is seven movement schedule. day 1 october 28th

mass review 1 star to all sm facilities on google maps (note: they’re deleting the bad reviews but we have to keep going)

hybes’s ceo lee jae sang issues apology letter for the ‘music industry report’ document (a sorry is not enough after destroying hsh life & career)

seunghan town will be removed due to ot6 reports and company that they reported the project, causing making hard getting the needed permits

pineapple manager passed in front of the protest today, he def saw the protest

manager passed in front of the protest again, they know what’s going on

manager passed in front of the protest for the third time, and tomorrow is the meeting

riize is seven movement schedule november 6th

there’s a very popular lawyer who has won a case against sm before that right now is representing fans

riize doesn't have any schedule, comeback or tour for the first quarter of 2025. the boycott is working, keep going!

riize lost 400k monthly listeners on spotify

clarifications on rumors regarding hsh. the thread linked below explains it really well, so please read carefully and repost it on X!

sm announced that seunghan will debut as a solo artist in the second half of 2025… they even created him a profile on ig. sm is trying to calm us down. is their final act of desperation to tame the situation. this doesn’t protect him from toxic fans, pls keep boycotting, this doesn’t end here (we protested to have him back in riize where he belongs, not to debut as solo artist is this a joke what are they doing💀💀)

Jaehyeon Choe, a TikToker with over 174k followers (@/watchwithsamjaychoe), who has worked with different kpop groups, some of them being SM ones, knows things we don't know and is telling us to DON'T STOP THE BOYCOTT

MAMA's violations against fans, the mistreatment and disrespect experienced by the fans cannot be ignored. some fans were denied entry due to their clothing and some others had their stuff (which they paid for) thrown away even if it wasn’t against the rules they settled. dm @/RIIZEUSACENTRE on X if something like this happened to you

this is all the info i found and i wanted to spread it here too, so thanks and credits to all the ppl on twitter!! if i find more relevant info i’ll keep updating this post. please share it 🫶🏻 (note: english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes in my grammar)

little motivation and some twitter accounts that organize projects/give info below the cut! 🩷

— some good info twitter accs:

@/RIIZEUSACENTRE @/SEVENRIIZE @/RIIZE_EUROPE @/PROTECT_RIIZE @/Seunghan_USA

— little motivation:

kbriize are holding face to face protests and fanbases hired an attorney. boycott properly if you don't want all the effort to be wasted! remember, boycotting takes time

"The group nearly disbanded in September of 2001, after Park Joon-hyung was discovered to be in a relationship. Their management announced, without informing him or the members, that he was to leave the group and they'd continue as 4, but it was met with strong objection from fans, who repeatedly signed petitions and threatened to boycott concerts and the company. Danny, Kyesang, Hoyoung and Taewoo held their own press conference, without the knowledge of their management, to show their support for Joon. After two months of disagreements, their company eventually backed down and allowed Joon to be in the group." if joon returned to the group after two months of protests, complains and boycott, we can bring back seunghan!! the key is persistence. please don't give up and keep fighting for his rights and justice!!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Michael de Adder :: @deAdder

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"The most important office is office of citizen."

June 11, 2025

Robert B. Hubbell

The most consequential story on Tuesday continues to be that Trump is issuing blatantly illegal and unconstitutional orders. The deployment of federal troops to Los Angeles violates the Posse Comitatus Act and does not qualify for any statutory exception. That fact is omitted from nearly every story reporting on the situation in Los Angeles. But no such story is accurate or complete unless the first line says, “In violation of federal law and without justification, President Trump has ordered federal troops to Los Angeles . . . .”

Before addressing the fake state of emergency created by Trump, let’s skip to the solution: Tens of millions of Americans must take to the streets, expressing the will of the people in opposition to Trump's unlawful actions. Thousands of decentralized protests of millions of Americans will be beyond the ability of Trump to resist—even with the US military cosplaying as law enforcement officers.

It is vitally important that everyone join the No Kings Day protests—June 14, 2025. Find a protest near you: No Kings. On June 14, Flag Day, the story must be that millions of Americans rose to defend democracy instead of the obscenely expensive military parade ordered by Trump because no one else will celebrate his birthday.

For once, the New York Times is getting it right. In its Tuesday online edition, the first headline in Column A1 reads:

The Times’ news analysis reports, in part,

Legal scholars say the president’s actions are not authorized by the statutes he has cited and are, instead, animated by a different goal. “He is declaring utterly bogus emergencies for the sake of trying to expand his power, undermine the Constitution, and destroy civil liberties,” said Ilya Somin, a libertarian professor at Antonin Scalia Law School who represents a wine importer and other businesses challenging some of Mr. Trump’s tariffs.

For the usually stodgy Times, the above analysis amounts to a full-throated condemnation of Trump’s sham declarations of emergency.

The Times’ news analysis closed with a reference to the case of Youngstown Sheet and Tube Company v. Sawyer, in which the Court expressed skepticism of presidential declarations of emergencies because “emergencies beget emergencies”:

Justice Jackson wrote that the framers of the Constitution were wary of granting the president emergency powers.

“They knew what emergencies were, knew the pressures they engender for authoritative action, knew, too, how they afford a ready pretext for usurpation,” he wrote. “We may also suspect that they suspected that emergency powers would tend to kindle emergencies.”

Trump's declaration of emergency is an attempt to create an emergency justifying the deployment of troops. It is an illegal, unjustified use of the US military—and is grounds for impeachment, conviction, and removal from office.

As a point of personal privilege as an Angeleno native, I want to express my anger at the national media for facilitating Trump's misrepresentation of the situation in Los Angeles.

After seeing MSNBC play video on Tuesday of the same two Waymo cars burning (which occurred on Saturday), I drove around my neighborhood to take a video of peaceful city streets with commentary by me. The video is here:

A shareable link is here: The Real Los Angeles 6.10.25

Mayor Karen Bass imposed a curfew over a small area in downtown Los Angeles on Tuesday evening. The tiny sector under curfew is a few blocks in Los Angeles County, which covers 4,752 sq. miles. Los Angeles County is roughly three times the size of Rhode Island, twice the size of Delaware, the same size as Connecticut, and half the size of New Jersey.

Imagine 10 blocks under curfew in an area the size of Connecticut because several dozen citizens are standing in front of a federal building—surrounded by 700 Marines, 2,000 National Guard, and the LAPD riot squad. That is the fake emergency that Trump has created by unlawfully deploying federal troops into Los Angeles.

The scale of Los Angeles County also highlights an important point about the limited ability of federal forces, even when they are misused by Trump. It took 700 Marines three days to travel 83 miles from Camp Pendleton to Los Angeles, where they have remained secluded inside a federal building housing a detention center. The Marines occupy one building in a single block of a county spanning 4,752 square miles.

On Tuesday evening, California Governor Gavin Newsom delivered a speech condemning Trump's actions. It deserves to be viewed, in full, by all Americans. The video of the speech is here: Meidas Touch Network, Exclusive: Governor Newsom Addresses State and Nation.

The full text of the speech is here: Governor of California, Democracy at a Crossroads.

Governor Newsom addressed all of Trump's unlawful conduct over the last four months, saying in part:

Authoritarian regimes begin by targeting people who are least able to defend themselves. But they do not stop there. Trump and his loyalists thrive on division because it allows them to take more power and exert even more control. By the way, Trump – he’s not opposed to lawlessness and violence, as long as it serves HIM. What more evidence do we need than January 6th? I ask everyone to take the time to reflect on this perilous moment. A president who wants to be bound by no law or constitution. Perpetrating a unified assault on American traditions. This is a President who, in just over 140 days, has fired government watchdogs that could hold him accountable for corruption and fraud. He’s declared a war on culture, on history, on science – on knowledge itself. Databases, quite literally vanishing. He’s delegitimizing news organizations and assaulting the First Amendment. At the threat of defunding them, he’s dictating what universities can teach. Targeting law firms and the judicial branch that are the foundation of an orderly, civil society. [¶¶] Look, this isn’t just about protests in LA. When Donald Trump sought blanket authority to commandeer the National Guard, he made that order apply to every state in this nation. This is about all of us. This is about you. California may be first – but it clearly won’t end here. Other states are next. Democracy is next. Democracy is under assault right before our eyes – the moment we’ve feared has arrived. [¶¶] The founding fathers did not live and die to see this moment. It’s time for all of us to stand up. Justice Brandeis said it best: in a democracy, the most important office is not president, it’s certainly not governor. The most important office is office of citizen. At this moment, we must all stand up and be held to a higher level of accountability. If you exercise your First Amendment rights, please do so peacefully. I know many of you are feeling deep anxiety, stress, and fear. But I want you to know that YOU are the antidote to that fear and anxiety.

Governor Newsom spoke the truth in a powerful speech.1

As before, we must remain disciplined and focused on protesting Trump's unlawful actions. We must avoid blaming members of the US military and LAPD who have been thrust into a chaotic situation against their will.

Stay calm—but show up! Your democracy needs you!

Troops at Fort Bragg jeer Newsom and Biden during Trump speech

Trump gave a partisan speech at Fort Bragg on Tuesday in which he attacked Governor Newsom, Joe Biden, the news media, and Los Angeles. During the speech, members of the US military appeared to jeer and boo at the names of politicians, the media, and Los Angeles. See Raw Story, 'Boo!' Trump prompts Army troops to jeer news media and cheer Robert E. Lee.

As readers of this newsletter know, I have been steadfast in defending the loyalty and professionalism of troops in our all-volunteer military. But each of the military members who jeered and booed elected officials, the news media, and a US city violated the DoD Directive 1344.10, Guidance for Military Personnel, which states, in part,

Per longstanding DoD policy, active duty personnel may not engage in partisan political activities and all military personnel should avoid the inference that their political activities imply or appear to imply DoD sponsorship, approval, or endorsement of a political candidate, campaign, or cause.

The commanders of Fort Bragg failed to maintain good military order by allowing troops under their command to participate in a partisan political rally that attacked Democratic officeholders and their former Commander-in-Chief. Allowing troops under their command to express partisan political viewpoints while in uniform is corrosive to public trust in the professionalism and neutrality of the military. The responsible commanders at Fort Bragg should resign or be disciplined for losing control of their troops.

As an aside, during Trump's speech, he announced that five military bases formerly named after Confederate traitors who killed hundreds of thousands of American soldiers during the Civil War would have their original Confederate names restored.

But because Trump realized that re-naming the bases for Confederate generals was unacceptable even for his white supremacist agenda, Trump's minions located US soldiers who have the same names as the Confederate generals and then renamed the bases after those US soldiers. See Task & Purpose, Trump reverts 7 Army bases to former names with new honorees.

So, for example, the former “Fort Robert E. Lee” will be renamed “Fort Lee” “in honor of Medal of Honor recipient Pvt. Fitz Lee, a Black Buffalo Soldier, for his heroism during the Spanish-American War.”

The cynical ploy to rename military bases to honor Confederate traitors by using the names of real American heroes is despicable.

Concluding Thoughts

Many people are distraught over the events in Los Angeles because they feel we have no control over the situation. While it is true that we cannot control the actions of everyone—especially agitators intent on hijacking peaceful protests—it is not true that we are powerless. We can seize control of the narrative by ensuring that millions of Americans take to the streets on June 14—No Kings Day and Flag Day.

If millions of Americans protest peacefully against Trump's unlawful actions, the media will give primacy to “We, the people,” rather than to the malignant narcissist.

As Governor Newsom said, “You are the antidote to fear and anxiety . . . . In a democracy, the most important office is not president, it’s certainly not governor. The most important office is office of citizen.”

We need only to act in order to overcome our feelings of helplessness and anxiety—and to regain control of the political narrative. Indeed, Trump's actions are those of a leader who is frightened about his grip on power. By acting in unison, we will prevail. Together, there is nothing we cannot do.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[starryeyedstray]

connor visits detroit's newest botanical garden but it looks a little too familiar...

"The garden is indoors?" North asked as they arrived at their destination.

"Correct. Given Detroit's natural climate, it would be difficult to sustain a botanical garden year round. So they've opted to create the garden inside something akin to a greenhouse."

"Leave it to humans to put nature in a tiny box they can control," North murmured as she stared up at the building. "Why did Markus want us to come here again?"

"It's supposed to be help relieve stress."

North gave Connor a skeptical look. He shrugged in response. Nature offered calming effects on humans, but Connor had some doubts whether that would hold true for deviants.

North sighed, "I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting."

They stepped inside and were greeted with a small garden. A stone paved path snaked around a central pond. White and wooden bridges connected to a small island in the center with a rose trellis. An artificial blue sky almost indistinguishable from reality stretched above them.

It was the Zen Garden. Amanda's Zen Garden. Connor froze while his OS unhelpfully told him that his stress levels had spiked.

Why was this here? His eyes flickered around. No mission telling him to talk to Amanda. No Amanda. This was fine. It was not fine.

"This is actually really pretty," North said in awe as she looked up at the cherry blossom tree. "Can't believe we're inside. They made the sky looks so real."

Markus, Simon, and Josh appeared from the path at their left.

"Hey, glad you guys made it!" Markus smiled as North greeted him and Connor nodded in response.

The deviant leader pouted when he noticed Connor, but quickly recovered as he turned to North. "It's pretty, isn't it? We already walked through most of it since it's pretty small, but Josh and Simon can show you around. I have something to talk about with Connor privately first."

"Sure thing, Markus," North said before shooting a curious glance at Connor who still was rooted in place at the entrance. The trio went back up the path on the left.

Markus turned to Connor. "C'mon, Connor, let's take a walk."

Connor nodded again and stiffly followed him as they took the path to the right. "What did you need to speak with me about?" Connor asked to distract himself. He tried to keep himself calm. Keep his LED blue.

Apparently, he was doing an inadequate job because Markus' eyes flickered up to his LED before meeting his eyes. Connor didn't see a benefit in removing his LED before, but having everyone able to have a general idea of his current mental state at a glance felt a bit violating which made him reconsider his decision.

"Is something bothering you?" Markus asked.

It was very typical of Markus to ask him that despite being able to definitively discern that something was indeed bothering him. Connor looked away. He was tempted to lie, but he'd have to explain why his LED was yellow if something wasn't bothering him. He's never told anyone about Amanda before. Should he tell Markus?

His thoughts were ripped away from him as he noticed a white headstone inside a small clearing at the edge of the path.

No.

This wasn't the Zen Garden. It couldn't be here. It wouldn't make sense to see it here.

He didn't hear Markus call after him as he quickly walked ahead to crouch in front of the headstone.

sorry but this wip has been sitting in my drafts since december and i don't think i'll ever finish it bc it was just a vague phantasm of an idea. it was gonna just rot in there so decided to post the unfinished idea here since i haven't posted a fic in a bit. my apologies for it's half-baked condition u_u i'll probably post it on my ao3 if i ever develop it more but for now this is all i got

[max1461]

Ok, ok. This has gotten to the point where it is simply intolerable, I cannot describe it as any other way than I am being raped from the inside, my own self is gone and in its absence other people are inside my body, inside my mind, violating me completely. I feel that I have no free will. There is never a break. It is accretionary; once I have been violated, my physical body it feels like but also my mind, it just stays there, the violating-instrument stays stuck in me throbbing. Please, please, I have not had a break in six months, it has been accreting for six months, I need this to stop. I do not know what is happening. There are two definite "sides", it's like my middle was removed and these strange sensations and false memories and so on run up my sides and then fuse in the middle, into something wrong and awful. But my actual grasp of the facts, both purely semantic knowledge and reality-checking, are completely intact. But everything else is messed up. All food tastes like piss, good feels like bad, I can't think clearly. I need this to stop, I cannot wait any longer, I need this to stop.

The sides correspond to my eyes, the sides thing has a reality to it in the sense that if I close one eye my perception of the world will be colored by the sensations from one side, if I close the other eye vice versa, and often it feels like I have different "intentions" in my two eyes. When this started I literally felt like I was going cross-eye all the time, there was this obvious visual twisting effect, but only when looking at things where the weird scrambling-and-fusing effect had messed up my perceptions internally.

Also there is a definitely feeling of being "down in myself", of being stuck "down" inside my mind. Like my brain's internal body-map, and especially my face, is not lined up with my actual body but is like "way down in my mind", and my body is sort of "empty", if that makes sense? And sometimes it tries to fill up my body but the parts go to the wrong places, my head goes to my hand or so on. I don't believe it's actually there, but it's SO VIVID, it FEELS like it's actually there. I'll feel my nose protruding out of my arm and shit. And I'm somehow twisted backwards, like, the outside world and my mind's eye have been "flipped", so that what's in my head feels more vividly real than what's actually real, and what's actually real feels like it's being inserted directly into my head.

A lot of overlap with psychosis, but all my doctors have said they don't think this is it. Mainly because my speech is unaffected, it's fully linear, and my reality-checking and grasp of the facts seems fine. To that I would add, uh...

Ok, most mental issues seem "fluid". In the sense that, like, say you have anxiety. Well, you can be anxious about one thing one day, then about another thing the next, it ebbs and flows and so on. I gather that psychosis is a least a little but like this, your voices and delusions ebb and flow. I cannot stress enough that what is going on with me is not like this. It is absolutely accretionary. Every little momentary sensation or mental image or whatever, external or internal, builds up and "sticks" within my mind, it doesn't pass, it doesn't go away, it just accretes as a huge indescribable blob. When the body map stuff gets really weird and I start to feel like my head is in a different place or my left and right sides are getting pulled, there is often visual flashing and other strange visual artifacts, and strange, horrible smells. The smells are the most vivid sensory part. And then these incomprehensible sensations just stick there and accrete, I feel mentally and physically twisted into a knot, twisted around myself and pulled through myself a thousand times and glued like that. This goes also for my memories and so on, even though I no what happened factually the actual memory is not of that, it's some horrible twisted thing. And anyway, when all this happens, it feels like a straight up computer glitch. Not a mental problem, a fucking computer glitch. And it feels like I am being progressively rewritten.

I have had an MRI, it was normal. At first the doctors thought this may have to do with epilepsy but I've had a few EEGs, they were normal, and I was on epilepsy meds for a few months and they didn't help. It's been almost 7 months now and I can't handle it any longer. Nothing has helped at all, it's all day, no breaks, even when I sleep I just have awful incomprehensible dreams all night. It is literally hell.

Please, if anyone has ANYTHING they can think of to try, or anything, let me know, I am really and truly desperate.