#(advertising scheme worked!!)

[auto-manic]

In regards to the post I just reblogged (the flag pin) I decided to open the app on my phone to see what ads I’d get and I see this

This is so fucking funny like???? Have they seen the movie Seven????? Brad Pitt puts his whole pussy into portraying the agony and grief in that scene and they try to use it to sell mountain biking equipment??? 😭😭

Like I get it’s lazy advertising and some underpaid intern wrote this (feels too coherent for AI) but still holy shit

[frosted-primarina]

Hello, Corey!

I am craving malasadas so bad! Do you happen to ship (or know someone that ships) to Sinnoh? I’m willing to pay any price!

I gotchu!

I have some Johto-based shipping contacts (courtesy of my older sis) that should be able to make a stop in Sinnoh!

malasadas ship by the bakers dozen (just because of costs), one unit costs 800P, starting at 3 units the cost for every additional order is only 400P. the additional fees for international shipping will have to be negotiated with the shipper.

when going to Johto the fees can be 1000-1500P, but I bet I can get the price knocked down for a cool guy like you! kehehe

yes, that’s a lot of malasadas, but I promise you they disappear faster than they go bad. all in all I try to keep my prices low. people everywhere deserve tasty, affordable pastries. :)

if we need to negotiate prices I’m completely open to it. always happy to get some wares in other regions!

[yume-fanfare]

i feel like artists have an easier time getting people into rarepairs because with art people will go "wow this art is so pretty even if it's for an eccentric ship" and look until they go "oh no i'm into this ship" while you either need to wait for the planets to align for someone to go "wow i guess this rarepair fic is intriguing" and read it or make it so long people read it out of curiosity

the solution is to join hands in battle. and also probably post like little out of context funny lines and easily-digestible things like that 🤔 funny stuff always wins and you're great at it

[astrangeriddle]

Just saved my mother from getting scammed out of 600€ how tf does this keep happening!!!!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The laudanum in Season 2 Episode 3 has a Terry Pratchett easter egg on it! :)

It reads "Guaranteed by C.M.O.T Dibbler & Co. CHEMISTS". C.M.O.T Dibbler (Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler) is a character from Terry's Discworld featuring in many books :).

"C.M.O.T. Dibbler liked to describe himself as a merchant adventurer; everyone else liked to describe him as an itinerant pedlar whose money-making schemes were always let down by some small but vital flaw, such as trying to sell things he didn’t own or which didn’t work or, sometimes, didn’t even exist." - Reaper Man

"‘Anti-dragon cream. Personal guarantee: if you’re incinerated you get your money back, no quibble.’ 'What you’re saying,’ said Vimes slowly, 'if I understand the wording correctly, is that if I am baked alive by the dragon you’ll return the money?’ 'Upon personal application,’ said Cut-Me-Own-Throat." - Guards! Guards!

“Angua picked out the bottle and looked at the label. "C.M.O.T. Dibbler's Genuine Authentic Soggy Mountain Dew," she read. "He's going to die! It says, 'One hundred and fifty per cent proof'!" "Nah, that's just old Dibbler's advertising," said Nobby. "It ain't got no proof. Just circumstantial evidence.” - Men at Arms

[scam-alerts]

🐝Scams to Bee Aware of on Tumblr: 🐝

(posted: 2/6/25 - Updated 2/12/25)

The art commission scam.

Are you an artist? Were you DM'd, sent an ask by a blog with no posts or little to no content, or had a comment on a post asking about a commission and to DM them? Did they ask you to draw their son, daughter, or pet? Did hey offer you $200-$500? If so, you should learn about this scam and how to avoid it.

The sugar baby/daddy scam. / Free money scam.

Did you make a post asking for donations? Did someone DM you wanting you to be their sugar baby or promising you money in exchange for something? Did they tell you that you need to send them money to verify you want to 'do this' or pay for 'shipping' or 'transaction' fees? You're about to get scammed!

The muse scam.

If you post photographs frequently, you may find your posts receiving comments from 'artists' saying how 'inspired' they are and how eager they are to make art or a mural for your work. This is a fake cheque scam and you should avoid it at all costs!

The (read more) / Click here! scam.

If you see a post ending in a link that says (read more...) or Click here! This is an attempt to get you to click a link that will lead to a malicious website in an attempt to steal your information, or possibly even install malicious files onto your phone or computer.

is Now Hiring! Scams. ✨New(ish)✨

See a post like this on your dash or in a tag you frequent? Was the user once a normal user and now they're spamming ads like this in unrelated tags? This likely means that user got their account hijacked by clicking the link via a different post. Avoid clicking links like these at all costs!

HRT Medicine / Therapy services ✨New(ish)✨

This scam is targeting transgender people, and is likely stealing peoples personal information and likely their credit card information. If you see or find a blog like the above commenting on your posts, in #transgender or other such related tags, block and report them immediately. (Selling stuff like this is illegal btw.)

Recruitment for the Illuminati.

This scam tries to recruit people into the Illuminati by offering people mass amounts of wealth, homes, and even cars. This is all an attempt to steal your money, or worse, your identity...

Recovery Scammers.

If you make a post talking about how you've lost money, be it bitcoin, crypto, or were scammed in any sort of way, you may find yourself receiving an ask from a recovery scammer. These are people claiming they can offer 'recovery services' while claiming to be 'ethical hackers' that have 'back end knowledge' to online services. Claiming they can retrieve your money, account, photos, and other such lost items. All you have to do is give them your account information and some money! :) (Do not do this, obviously.)

These scammers also target people who post in #scam and/or other related tags like #scams or #scam alert, posting things like this in the comments on peoples posts:

Dropshipping Websites. (Curtsy of @ai-art-thieves)

See a post of an object or a piece of clothing by a popular tumblr user that has 10k+ notes, does it say 'I got this here!' or '>>GET YOURS HERE<<' at the bottom with a link to a store? That user is a part of a dropshipping advertising scheme and are being paid to advertise these scummy websites. These websites are usually malicious in the manner that they sell cheaply products. In the worst case you'll get a bootleg or flawed product, or even a different product completely, or in even worse cases, you'll never get it at all.

(Or they will steal your information in the case of those shopify websites that popup online with deals you 'just can't refuse!!!' So buyer beware.)

Campaign boost/mutual aid support scams. (By @kyra45)

If you or anyone you know has posted looking for donations, and you receive an ask, DM, or even a comment about someone offering to 'assist you in boosting your account/campaign,' all you have to do is pay them <amount>, then this is a fake check scam you should definitely read up on and learn about to avoid.

Pet donation Scams. (by @kyra45)

See a post about someone needing help with a vet bill? Do they stress the pet is in peril and will die soon? Is their PayPal from the Philippines yet the vet bill is from the United states? Those are just two things to look out for with this scam.

Donation / Mutual Aid scams. (by @kyra45)

One of the most common and well known scams on tumblr to this day. These scams mainly revolve around brand new accounts made within a day or week reblogging very few posts and then suddenly asking for money via donations through PayPal. These blogs will send out the same copy/paste ask en masse to dozens if not hundreds of people, change their name frequently over the course of days if not weeks, and will even lie about being Palestinian, stealing stories from legitimate gofundmes, and even having conditions such as diabetes while not even knowing how it works.

Here is a current list of documented PayPal scammers: Part 3

-----

Some helpful blogs to follow:

@kyra45 @ai-art-thieves @u-reblogged-a-scam

Tags to follow/check if you need to check on scams:

#scam #scams #scam alert #scammer #scammers

I also have a very extensive list of scammer call out posts on my main blog, @slenbee under my #scam tag which can be found here if anyone's interested in scrolling through it. Just note that I kindly ask that minors do not follow that blog as it is my personal blog and is not a blog dedicated to scam busting/documenting.

You're 100% ok with looking through the scam tag and reblogging things from it, as well as checking out the links on my pinned post. :)

------

I think that's it for Tumblr scams, If I think I need to add more later I'll update the post and make an update note about it.

Take care everyone and don't get scammed!

-----

Check out the Index of important posts I've made!

Here's a post on some tips and tricks on spotting scam blogs.

How to guide: Reverse Image Search. (now with web extensions!)

Scammers pretending to be Palestinian v6 by @kyra45

[leidensygdom]

Commission scams: A guide on how to avoid them and find legit artists

Hello! I am writing this guide in order to hopefully help people spot scammers and art thieves, to teach people how to deal with them and to give people ways to actually get real artists for commission work.

For those who do not know, there is a recurring, extremely widespread type of scam where someone will advertise their commissions using stolen artwork, or (sometimes) traced or AI-generated pictures. This started (as far as I know) on Twitter, but it is currently in all sorts of social media (I have found them in Twitter, Instagram, Bluesky and Tumblr) and also on Discord servers, often large Discord servers requiring no invites or that are easy to find through Discord advertisement places.

These do obviously hurt both, the people seeking to buy a commission (who will either get their money stolen, or given a product that is not of the quality that was advertised), and the artists whose work is being stolen, who are not getting the work themselves. It is important for people to learn how to identify these people, and to quickly take action when possible. This post is kind of lengthy, so please press the Keep reading button below for the full guide! (And please do share this post around if possible- This is a very common scam and I have met far too many people who have fallen to it or have got their art stolen due to it, including friends and myself.)

So, how do they work? (in Social media)

In my experience, a lot of these scammers either run multiple accounts or are part of a larger scheme, operating in organized groups that follow similar tactics. They will very often use automated means to advertise en masse. Those in social media will make accounts that post some example artwork, often with a myriad of tags, in styles that do not match (see first example, featuring my stolen art :'')). They very rarely post anything that isn't stolen artwork, or have any actual real following they interact with properly. They will then very often spam heavily through replies (such as it happens in Twitter), posting hundreds of really similar messages in a short period of time. In the second example, you can see an account from one of these scammers that is using automated posts to garner attention, which are shared by similar accounts (notice the same exact wording between the first and third post). The third example (in the Replies tab) shows how one of this accounts replies "Hi" to every single message they get.

They will often seek posts from people who are searching for commissions, answering them (often with a "I do commissions, DM me") or other variants of that. (They often only share their "art" on DMs to not be caught stealing by the original authors.) You can see an example of that on the first screenshot below. On Twitter, Instagram and pretty much any place where you can DM people, they may also come to your DMs, often starting with a "Hello" or something so you answer to them, and then they will suddenly share their commission information (as seen in the second picture).

In any case, they rarely have publicly available commission sheets, and will only disclose their prices on DMs. They may share more stolen artwork in there. From there on, they will often speak in fairly broken English, and try to lead you to commission them. They will haggle the prices if they can- But they tend to be fairly steep, with them going up to $300 a fullbody, which tends to be unusual in people without a fairly established following or popularity.

They will often give you a payment method that does not allow for refunds- Such as sending the money to "Friends and Family" in Paypal. This is actually illegal for commercial work, so if you get an artist telling you to pay them through such a method, please do be incredibly wary: Professionals will use methods that do have an option for refunds.

2. How do they work? (on Discord)

On Discord, they will often enter in servers where there may be a place for them to advertise, or servers available through Disboard and other Discord-community searchable sites. Then, they will often not interact at all with the community itself, but they will jump to advertising channels and post about "seeking for work". I have found out that scammers operating on Discord do only very rarely also have socials, so look out for that. Do reverse searches if you can. Legit artists don't tend to join Discords solely to advertise, so look up "from: [name]" on Discord and check how they have interacted in the server, if they have done that in any way. See the first and second example for an example on how they behave. First example has art from @ydteus (in the second message, the dragonborn's source is unknown.) Second example is from one of these accounts who entered on a Streamers' Discord. Streamers and VTubers are very popular targets for these scammers. Third example (with art from absent_lambeth on instagram, and unknown for the second picture) shows another important point, which I'll explain below.

Many of these scammers do not have solid commission sheets showing examples and prices for them. The third one even mentions "it is under construction", fully knowing a commission sheet is expected. Not every professional artist has them, but most do. It is often expected that people who do commissions will have some sort of Terms of Service at the very least, even if they do not have a commission sheet.

3. What do they do?

They scam you. You may never get any art from them. You may get traced art, or art that is not of the quality they advertised, because the art they used for promotion wasn't theirs on the first place. Or you may get an AI-generated picture, too. In either way: You will find yourself with +$200 less in your pocket and no way to seek a refund. So, it's very important you know how to spot them BEFORE they scam you. I have known people who have lost their money

4. How do I actually spot them?

Simply put, they do not act like normal artists would. Let's make a handy list of suspicious behaviours to look for, though.

Most people who draw commissions won't directly DM you unprompted to ask you to pay them for work. If you get such a DM- Report as spam and block.

Most of them don't act like bots, either. If you're on Twitter or similar pages, seek for extremely repetitive posts, hundreds of Replies in their Replies tab that are copypasted or very similar. If you see that, report as spam and block.

Reverse search is sadly very unreliable nowadays, but it does not hurt to try. A lot of them will modify the picture so it doesn't show in reverse search, but try it- And seek if it links to a different account with a different name.

As an ESL, I hate to say this, but the grand majority of them have really broken English, so look out for that. Not every person with broken English is a scammer, but it is something common amidst them. You will notice they fail to communicate general information. Try to ask them for Terms of Service, for example: They will probably be unable to provide you anything (if they do even understand you.)

You will rarely find them on your own unless you frequent specific tags, such as "commission" or "openforcommission". Or even using completely unrelated tags in their posts. I found one of them using a tag about someone's death to cop violence on their anime art. These people mostly only interact with their fellow scammers, but not with artists you'd find through other means.

As mentioned above, they won't provide you a payment method that allows for refunds the grand majority of the time. If someone tells you to send them money "as friends and family" in Paypal, or through something life Ko-fi's donations (although this one is rare), do not pay them. This is a general advice: Do not use payment methods that do not allow refunds for people you don't know.

Ask them for a commission sheet, a webpage, their Terms of Service and other things. Professionals should be able to provide at least one of these, usually.

5. What do I do if I find out they have stolen art/if my art has been stolen?

If you have found stolen art, let the original artist known ASAP if you can find them. Ask for help from friends if you cannot find them.

If you're the artist, DMCA claim. Every page has it, it is required for them to have it. If you search "dmca form (and the website's name)", it should show up. Bsky only has it in mail form right now, but it's there. A DMCA claim is a Copyright claim, and as long as you can show that you posted your picture somewhere before they did, you can do it. The form may seem scary, but it is not all that much. They will ask for your legal full name, address, a mail + a telephone, the url of the post stealing your art, an url to where you posted it first, and to sign/agree to some terms. DMCA claims tend to be processed swiftly (in about a day) because websites can get in trouble if they allow for copyrighted content to be stolen. And you actually do have rights to any picture you have created without needing to trademark it or anything.

You may also want to ask your friends to help you report the account and/or posts. Often, reporting it for spam will give you the best results. DMCA claims will take down the offending posts, but sadly, reports in most major places are rarely taken seriously, but they may limit an accounts' reach or auto-flag it as spam in DMs, so it is still a fairly effortless option to follow. DO still DMCA claim them though.

6. Where do I actually find real people to commission?

Your best bet is through other real people. Let me explain some good methods for this.

Do you have friends who are artists? Ask them if they have commissions open, or if they know other people who take them. Artists almost always know other artists, and they can quickly find you someone you can trust.

Did a friend of yours get a commission? Ask them who was it from if you like the style, and they may be able to get you a link to their social media!

Do you follow artists for any sort of content you're interested in? (General art, fanart/fandom stuff, people you look up to, etc). You can check their work first and see if they have commissions, or if they share art from other people, and then check those.

Scammers really don't partake in fandoms or have art-related posts go viral (some get some follower-begging bait going viral, but that's it). Chances are that, if you found a cool art in your dashboard or timeline, it is from a real artist.

I think places such as VGen need verification for artists and have ratings. I am not personally experienced with it, but you may want to check that out.

You can always ask people to double check with you if you found someone but are doubtful about them being legit. If you are part of any community, do ask there! If you have artist friends, tell them! A lot of artists are acquittanced with the scam issue.

I have seen people do lists of artists available for commissions in places such as bsky, too. These can be an option, but always do verify that the people doing the list in the first place do seem like an actual person.

Ending notes

This is a very long post, but I really wanted it to be very thorough. I would greatly appreciate if you could share it around, as it is a very widespread issue that not many know how to identify. If you do find out scammers in Discords, please DM the servers' admins and link them to this post so they can get banned, in order to prevent scamming and art theft.

If you have any question or you need someone to help you verify an artist being legit or a scammer, my DMs are open for that too. I have talked about this a bunch in other places and I am fairly experienced with these cases, and I would be very happy to be able to lend a hand and find you an artist, if you do need the help. Thank you for reading!

[ariestrxsh]

sub!virgin!matt x neighbor!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, use of vibrator (on matt), oral(m!receiving), edging, begging, mommy kink

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: you bring home a new sex toy to try on matt while your mom is out of town

dividers by @/anitalenia

Me & U

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

[ back to Me & U masterlist ] ↖

"It's crazy how I've seen your dick, but you've never even seen the inside of my house," you smirked back at Matt as he stepped through your front door for the first time. He let out a shy giggle in response. Your mom was out of town, and you were dying to show Matt the newest sex toy you'd gotten in stock at work.

He trailed behind you, his eyes glossing over the layout of your home. He scanned the family photos on your walls, the tacky 'live, laugh, love' sign your mom had hung over the dining room table, and the collection of wine bottles on display.

He followed you from the kitchen to your living room, separated by only an archway. He noted the funky color scheme, the silly built-in furniture, and the seafoam green shag rug that made him think your house hadn't been renovated since the 70s.

You looked back with a warm smile on your face as you grabbed his hand. You trotted up your carpeted staircase, leading him to your bedroom. It was rather messy, the opposite of Matt's. There were piles of clothes decorating the floor, little trinkets cluttering your dresser, and vintage posters on the wall, advertising iconic concerts that had happened - Jimi Hendrix. 1969. Madison Square Garden. $5.

Matt liked the stark differences between your personality and his. He knew you were the type of girl to help get him out of his shell, and he knew that he was the type of boy to bring some organization into your life.

His eyes wandered towards the intimidating-looking purple toy on your bed. It was still in its original packaging. "Wow, that's big," he commented, wide-eyed.

"You wanna try it?" You asked him, plopping down on your messy sheets and ripping open the package with reckless abandon. His eyes grew even wider.

"Uh, isn't that a girl sex toy?" He naively asked.

"I mean, it's marketed that way, but that doesn't mean I couldn't use it on you," you responded in a charming voice.

"I don't think it'll fit," he said in a worried tone.

"You're hilarious. It's not for internal use. It's a vibrator," you smiled at him, turning on the purple wand for a second to show him before shutting it back off.

"Men can use vibrators?" He asked, sounding a bit more relieved.

"They can. Here, let me show you," you responded, taking his hand and pulling him onto the bed. "Lay back for me," you whispered, pushing him against your headboard. His jaw fell slack as you undid the button on his jeans and gently tugged on the zipper.

Matt hesitantly lifted his hips as you pulled his pants down to his mid-thigh, followed by his underwear. Your pupils dilated as you set his cock free from the restrictive fabric. It wasn't surprising at all to you that Matt was already hard. Your eyes danced across his pink mushroom-shaped tip, the veins that traveled up his shaft, and his well-trimmed public hair.

"So sensitive," you whispered, running the point of your finger through the precum pooling at his tip. He let out another sweet little whimper while he wrinkled his nose and his forehead, slamming his eyes shut. "You're gonna love this," you raised an eye brow at him and turned the vibrating wand on.

He immediately gripped the blanket beneath him as you teased him with it, gently running it up and down his shaft. "Mmm. How's that?" You cooed to the boy beneath you as you rested the toy against his pretty, pink tip.

"I like that," he sighed, his whole body tensing up at the powerful sensation. His cockhead grew to a brighter shade of pink and swelled as more clear fluid leaked from his slit.

You gave him a devilish grin before leaning down and slurping it up for him. His jaw dropped, and a sweet moan escaped his parted lips as he involuntarily lifted his hips. He looked down at you with his dreamy, blue eyes.

"You like when I use my mouth on it?" You cooed, closing the distance again between his needy tip and your plump lips. He slowly nodded. Your eager tongue darted out, flickering over his sensitive nerve-endings and sending an electric feeling through his body.

The vibrations were so strong, you could feel them with your mouth as you gently suckled on his tip, stimulating the back of his swollen head. "Mommy," he cried out, "you're gonna make me cum."

He was already at the edge, ready to submit to the fall. You pulled off of him with a pop, running the wand along the underside of his cock and watching it twitch.

"No, sweetheart. Not yet," you denied him, giving him a malicious but still playful smile. His expression was one of immense pleasure mixed with agony as he held on for dear life.

You rested the vibrator directly against his tip again, admiring how shiny it looked coated in his arousal and your saliva. "Good boy. Just a little bit longer," you whispered, looking into his eyes as you dragged the vibrating toy up and down along the underside of his length.

You made his cockhead disappear behind your lips again, his knuckles beginning to lose color as he gripped the sheets, a testament to how well you used your mouth and your toy. No matter how desperate he became, you didn't let up.

"It's so hard to hold on, mommy," he mewled, his voice getting more shrill by the second. His eyes started rolling back, he dropped his head until it gently fell against the headboard, and his legs began to shake. "Please, please, please," he begged over and over like a puppy whining for food.

"Almost there. Good boy. You're doing such an amazing job for me," you cooed at him, soaking your underwear as you watched him reach his breaking point. You wrapped your lips back around his perfectly shaped head and pressed your tongue up against his slit.

"Mommy, can I please cum now?" He pathetically whimpered, dropping his gaze to you between his legs. You nodded, giving him the permission he craved. He finally let go.

He reached for your head, gently running his fingers through your hair, just barely too shy to pull you down further onto his cock.

His climax was powerful, sweeping him up in its current and carrying him to the finish line. He let out the prettiest sounds as he sprayed his sticky, warm fluid into your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat up against his slit created an almost sprinkler-like effect, and the pressure from it intensified his pleasure.

He writhed beneath you, flooding your tastebuds with his flavor.

You peered up into his beautiful, bedroom eyes that stared back at you. His expression was contorted by the incredible bliss he felt, his lips in an "o" shape and his eyebrows pinched together.

You shut off the toy and slurpled up the remaining liquid that pooled at his tip, and you generously licked up the bits that had escaped your mouth and began dripping down his shaft. He blushed, wiping a drop of sweat that had started to run down his forehead.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Matt curiously asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"A lot of practice," you smirked at him, releasing his cock from your grip. There was something about your experience that turned Matt on even more. He continued to stare down at you with his fucked out expression, his lips curling into a smile.

"How much practice?" He asked you.

"Enough to know what I'm doing," you teased, avoiding giving him a direct answer.

He pulled up his jeans, doing up the zipper and the button, his chest heaving and his cheeks pink and flush from the powerful orgasm you'd just given him. "Well, no more practicing with other guys who aren't me," he said with a jealous inflection in his voice.

"Of course not, Matt. I'm all yours," you whispered as you crawled onto his lap and straddled him, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

[egophiliac]

No way Azul signed the waivers

ah, but consider this: Azul is known to enact overelaborate schemes in order to cover for the fact that he is consistently getting like. negative points in physical education. therefore, I posit that he is in fact the mastermind behind the magical assault practicals in the first place, having waged an entire psychological war with Crowley to make him think it was his own idea. this includes spending months carefully dropping particular keywords into casual conversation whenever Crowley is walking by, so that his phone's Mira will pick up on them and start targeted advertising to Crowley in a way that seems innocuous but will ultimately help lead to Azul getting that sweet, sweet extra credit without having to run a single lap.

which is to say: Azul would sign the waiver, because he wrote the waiver (under an assumed name, filtered through three different shell companies, each of which charged a separate consulting fee) (this is just how Azul WORKS okay).

[mariacallous]

A groundbreaking work of history and reportage that unveils the stranger-than-fiction world of multilevel marketing: a massive money-making scam and radical political conspiracy that has remade American society. “Gripping and instructive . . . lucid and engaging . . . [Bridget Read] sketches a vivid portrait of a cultish culture.”—The Washington Post Companies like Amway, Mary Kay, and Herbalife advertise the world’s greatest opportunity: the chance to be your own boss via an enigmatic business model called multilevel marketing, or MLM. They offer a world of pink Cadillacs, white-columned mansions, tropical vacations, and—most precious of all—financial freedom. If, that is, you’re willing to shell out for expensive products and recruit everyone you know to buy them, and if they recruit everyone they know, too, thus creating the “multiple levels” of MLM. Overwhelming evidence suggests that most people lose money in multilevel marketing, and that many MLM companies are pyramid schemes. Yet the industry’s origins, tied to right-wing ideologues like Ronald Reagan, have escaped public scrutiny. MLM has slithered in the wake of every economic crisis of the last century, from the Depression to the pandemic, ensnaring laid-off workers, stay-at-home moms, and teachers—anyone who has been left behind by rising inequality. In Little Bosses Everywhere, journalist Bridget Read tells the gripping story of multilevel marketing in full for the first time, winding from sunny postwar California, where a failed salesman started a vitamin business, through the devoutly religious suburbs of Michigan, where the industry built its political influence, to stadium-size conventions where today’s top sellers preach to die-hard recruits. MLM has enriched powerful people, like the DeVos and Van Andel families, Warren Buffett, and President Donald Trump, all while eroding public institutions and the social safety net, then profiting from the chaos. Along the way, Read delves into the stories of those devastated by the majority-female industry: a veteran in Florida searching for healing; a young mom in Texas struggling to feed her children; a waitress scraping by in Brooklyn. A wild trip down an endless rabbit hole of greed and exploitation, Little Bosses Everywhere exposes multilevel marketing as American capitalism’s stealthiest PR campaign, a cunning grift that has shaped nearly everything about how we live, and whose ultimate target is democracy itself.

[miapotterismyfav]

Innocence

———————————————————————————

Summary: Sirius Black thought he had Y/N all figured out—until one offhand comment sends his world into a tailspin and unearths far more than he bargained for.

Matching: Siriusxfem!reader, Remusxfem!reader

Previous part, next part

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

Chapter five: The beginning of the end

The castle was asleep—or at least it should have been. But the kitchens held a different kind of quiet, alive with the soft rustling of house-elves moving like shadows between shelves and pots. Y/N slipped through the heavy oak door behind the painting, her footsteps light on the stone floor. She had learned the perfect time to sneak in for something sweet was well past curfew, when most students were safely tucked away.

She was just reaching for a jar of treacle fudge when she caught sight of a familiar figure crouched down by the lower cupboards. Sirius. He was carefully passing a steaming meat pie into the hands of a small house-elf whose face was drawn with exhaustion.

Y/N paused, a smile tugging at her lips despite the weight in her chest. “You’re spoiling them,” she whispered, not meaning to interrupt but unable to resist.

Sirius glanced up, startled, but the hint of a grin softened his features immediately. “They work harder than anyone else in this castle,” he said quietly, voice low as if sharing a secret. “They deserve a bit of kindness. Besides, they’re the only ones who really keep this place running.”

The elf’s eyes shone with grateful warmth as it accepted the pie, and Y/N’s heart warmed at the simple scene. “I never knew you cared about them so much.”

“Not exactly something I advertise,” Sirius said with a sly grin, standing up and dusting flour off his hands. “So what brings the mysterious Slytherin princess wandering the kitchens at midnight? Shouldn’t you be in your dormitory plotting your next clever scheme?”

Y/N hesitated, clutching the folded parchment in her hand a little tighter. “I could ask you the same,” she said softly. “But I suppose it’s none of your business.”

Sirius tilted his head, curious. “You don’t look like you came here for snacks.”

Her fingers traced the edges of the letter. “It’s… family stuff,” she admitted. “More of those letters from home. Blood purity nonsense, warnings about… things I don’t want to think about.” Her voice cracked just slightly. “Death Eaters. Expectations. Threats.”

Sirius’s face softened, and he gave her a look of pure understanding. “I’m sorry. That sounds like hell.”

“It is,” she said, dropping her gaze. “Sometimes I don’t know how to breathe under all of it.”

“Well,” he said with a gentle shrug, “I’m not sure I’m much help, but there’s a better place to talk than the kitchens.” He motioned up toward the staircase. “Come on.”

The cold night air hit her as they climbed the spiraling steps to the Astronomy Tower. The castle stretched wide below them, lights twinkling like stars stolen from the sky. Sirius pulled a folded blanket from his bag and spread it carefully across the stone bench.

“Sit,” he said, patting the space beside him.

Y/N lowered herself down, the chill stone pressed to her back through the blanket. She looked up at the stars, the way they glittered cold and distant but somehow constant. She felt her tense shoulders start to ease.

Sirius settled beside her, close enough that their arms brushed. “I don’t get to spend much time at the Black house anymore,” he confessed, voice low. “James’s place feels more like home these days. Less suffocating.”

“James’s place?” Y/N asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“The Marauders’ HQ,” he said with a laugh. “No stuffy family drama, just friends who get me.”

She smiled, feeling a pang of longing for that kind of freedom. “I wish I could run away like that. Away from the expectations, the politics, the… everything.”

He nodded, eyes fixed on the starry sky. “I know what you mean. I had to learn how to breathe on my own.”

For a long moment, they just sat, the night wrapping around them like a cocoon. Then Y/N’s voice came quiet but sure. “Do you ever get scared? That you’ll never be enough? That the family you want isn’t the family you have?”

Sirius swallowed, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Every day. But I’m lucky. I found people who choose me, not because of my name or blood, but because I’m me. It’s what I hold onto.”

She looked at him then, really looked—the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the soft curve of his lips when he smiled shyly, the kindness in his gaze. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could breathe, too.

They talked until the first faint blush of dawn crept over the horizon, words weaving a fragile thread of friendship that felt like something stronger. When their voices finally grew quiet and sleep tugged at their limbs, they leaned back together against the cold stone wall, shoulders touching, eyes heavy but hearts lighter.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered.

Sirius smiled, eyes half-closed. “Anytime, princess.”

And under the watchful stars, two souls found a moment of peace—just friends, just human, just holding onto each other in the dark.

—————————————————————————

Remus wasn’t at breakfast. Or dinner. Or tucked into any of their usual spots—the library alcove, the second-floor corridor window seat, the empty classroom they used as their own personal hideaway.

So when Y/N found him—alone, hunched over a desk in the forgotten fifth-floor study room—her pulse jumped in relief. And then confusion.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said.

Remus didn’t look up.

“I’ve been looking for you all day.”

Still nothing.

She crossed the room slowly. “Are you alright?”

He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she blinked.

“Don’t do the whole caring thing, like you know me. You don’t.”

She stared. “Remus—”

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, cutting her off. His voice was cold. Detached. Like he’d rehearsed this. “This—whatever this is—it’s done.”

A breath caught in her throat.

“What?”

He folded his arms. “It was never serious. Just something to pass the time. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

Her brows drew in. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head, sharp-eyed now. “You act like this shy, clever little Slytherin, all proper and above it—but that’s not really you, is it?”

Y/N stiffened.

“You’re everywhere,” he continued coolly. “Wrapped around Diggory, then Marlene’s bed, then Merlin knows who else—”

“Stop,” she said, quietly. “That’s not fair.”

He smiled—cruelly. “I didn’t realise I was just the next in rotation.”

Her mouth parted, stunned. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because it’s true,” he snapped. “You’re just another bored, spoiled girl playing at mystery. You don’t care about me. You never did. So let’s cut the act.”

Silence fell like a dropped knife between them.

She stared at him for a long, aching moment—jaw tight, eyes shining—but she didn’t cry. Not for him. She nodded once, sharp and slow.

“Alright,” she said. “If you wanted me to hate you, congratulations. You did it.”

Then she turned and walked away.

Remus didn’t stop her.

Didn’t call her back, didn’t take it back, didn’t move at all—just stood there, hands clenched into fists at his sides, the echo of her footsteps fading down the corridor like the tail end of a spell he couldn’t undo.

His chest was hollow.

His throat burned.

And he told himself it was better this way.

Because if she hated him—if she despised him—maybe it would hurt less than the thought of her loving him anyway.

Maybe it would be easier if she never came back.

Maybe it would be safer if he stayed exactly what he feared most: alone.

The Astronomy Tower was freezing.

Sirius paused halfway up the stairs when he smelled it—sweet, earthy smoke curling faint in the corridor. His brow furrowed. Only one person he knew smoked cloves like that.

Y/N.

He crested the final step and saw her—curled on the edge of the stone ledge, legs drawn up, a thin jumper doing nothing against the biting wind. The end of her cigarette glowed red between two fingers. She didn’t look at him.

He took in the scene in silence first. The tense line of her shoulders. Her carefully blank face, eyes trained out over the grounds as if the moonlit view could hold her together. Something was wrong. Something worse than usual.

And it was quiet—so quiet compared to how she’d been the past few weeks. No dry wit, no clever smirk. None of that spark he’d gotten so used to during their late-night talks and mischief-filled classes. She looked like someone had hollowed her out and left her there, just the shape of her.

He stepped closer. “Didn’t think I’d find you up here again without me.”

Still, no answer. She just took a drag and blew the smoke out slow.

“I was looking for you,” Sirius tried again, softer this time.

“That seems to be going around,” she said flatly.

The edge in her voice made his jaw tighten. He moved to sit beside her, not quite touching. “What happened?”

She let out a quiet laugh, bitter and joyless. “Remus.”

Sirius already had a sinking feeling, but the name landed like a weight on his chest anyway.

“What did he do?”

“He ended it,” she said, not looking at him. “Said it was nothing. Said I was just passing the time. That I didn’t care. That I—” She swallowed hard. “That I’m the kind of girl who sleeps around too much to be worth anything real.”

Sirius went still.

The rage was immediate, visceral. It lit behind his eyes like someone had set fire to the inside of his skull. Remus. His brother. The one who kept his hurt quiet and his guilt louder—but this? This wasn’t guilt. This was cruelty.

“He said that to you?” Sirius asked, voice razor-sharp.

She didn’t answer. She just looked down at the cigarette between her fingers and stubbed it out against the stone ledge. “Doesn’t matter. My family agrees.”

Sirius turned to her, but she was already lighting another. Her fingers shook.

“What do you mean?”

“They found out,” she said, voice hollow. “About Remus. About me seeing him. A Gryffindor. A half-blood. A…” She trailed off.

Sirius’s stomach dropped. “They know he’s—?”

She nodded once. “Didn’t take much. A few whispers, a few strange disappearances. I don’t know who told them. Maybe no one had to.”

He swore under his breath.

“They’ve threatened to marry me off,” she continued, like she was listing the weather. “Mulciber. Of all people. As punishment. To fix my loyalties. As if I’m something broken that needs rewiring.”

Sirius saw red.

“That twisted little freak? They’re not serious.”

“They are.” Her mouth curled in a bitter smile. “Apparently, I’m one scandal away from ‘irreparable.’ Remus made it easier for them. He always does.”

“Y/N—” He reached for her arm, but she flinched before he could touch her.

“Don’t,” she said. “Please.”

He pulled his hand back, guilt coiling tight in his chest. “Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. The wind howled through the tower. Below them, the castle slept on, unaware.

Finally, Y/N said, voice small and sharp, “I never thought he’d say those things. Even if he wanted to end it. He didn’t have to be cruel.”

“No, he didn’t.” Sirius’s voice was low and dangerous now. “He didn’t have to say any of it. That’s not the Remus I know.”

“Well,” she muttered, “maybe he’s tired of being the nice one.”

Sirius looked at her—really looked. At the hurt she was trying to hide beneath the cigarettes and the silence. At the way her eyes were too dry to cry, because she’d probably already cried everything out. And something in him cracked.

“You don’t deserve that,” he said quietly. “Any of it.”

“Maybe I do,” she said, trying for indifferent. “My whole life I’ve done the wrong thing. Picked the wrong people. Said too much. Said too little. Maybe he just finally saw what everyone else sees.”

“Bullshit.” Sirius leaned forward, firm now. “You’re not broken. You’re not some bloody problem to fix. And Remus—whatever reason he thought he had—it wasn’t the truth. He’s scared. He’s guilty. But he doesn’t get to throw that at you.”

Her eyes finally met his, guarded but raw. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He gave her a sad smile. “Because you’ve been nice to me.”

“That’s different.”

“Maybe.” He exhaled. “But I know what it’s like. Being told you’re wrong for who you are. Being punished for who you care about. Being pushed toward people who make your skin crawl, just to keep the family name clean. You’re not alone in this.”

Y/N looked away again. “I feel alone.”

“Then let me sit with you in it. Until it passes.”

She blinked, and her lip trembled just slightly.

He didn’t push her. He didn’t ask her to talk more or promise it would be okay. He just leaned back against the stone, shoulder brushing hers, and let the silence stretch between them—not empty this time, but full of understanding.

Eventually, the clove burned out.

And eventually, she leaned into him—just barely, just enough—and he let her.

He didn’t know what this was, what it would become. But she was hurting. And he was furious. And Remus, for all his wounded heart, had made a terrible mistake.

Sirius clenched his jaw and stared out at the stars.

Remus would pay for it—maybe not in words, but in the quiet way Sirius could turn cold. For now, though, he’d keep his promise.

He’d sit with her until the ache dulled.

Until she believed she wasn’t unworthy.

Until someone reminded her what it felt like to be safe.

—————————————————————————

They shouldn’t have been able to do it.

There were wards and rules and curfews and professors with far too much time on their hands—but somehow, by sheer charm and a little chaos, Sirius and Y/N had managed to sneak onto the bloody Hogwarts Express.

“It's a miracle you’ve never been expelled,” Y/N whispered as they crouched behind a stack of crates in the rear train compartment, her breath hitching from laughter.

Sirius grinned, wild-eyed, leather jacket zipped to his throat. “What can I say? Authority just brings out my most creative side.”

They were both dressed like trouble: battered boots, too many rings, jackets smelling faintly of clove smoke and rebellion. Her eyeliner was smudged from the run through the train yard, and Sirius had a scrape on his cheekbone from vaulting the gate like a lunatic—but they were grinning.

Breathless. Free.

They made it to London just after seven and slipped through the Muggle crowds like they belonged there—laughing at how loud the streets were, Sirius buying her greasy chips from a food stand because “they’re better than anything that pompous castle’s ever made those lovely house elves serve,” and ducking into the packed, dim-lit venue just as the band stormed the stage.

And gods, the noise.

It was glorious—raw guitars and smoke machines and lyrics she didn’t know but still screamed. Y/N was swept into the crush of bodies, Sirius’s hand in hers so they didn’t get separated, both of them jumping and shouting and shoving and alive in a way that had nothing to do with Hogwarts and everything to do with forgetting.

She hadn’t smiled like this in weeks.

And Sirius—Sirius looked like he was breathing for the first time in years.

Afterward, flushed and buzzing, they wandered back through London’s crooked streets, sharing the last cigarette and stories about the dumbest detentions they’d ever had. She told him about the time she transfigured her entire dorm’s sheets into snakes after one of the girls hexed her hair green. He told her about setting a professor’s wig on fire (accidentally. Mostly.)

The first train only got them partway back before they had to charm their way into a Muggle station, bluff a story about lost tickets, and catch a local service into Scotland. Sirius paid with a handful of stolen Sickles and an apology to the ticket bloke that sounded suspiciously like: “Sorry, mate, my cousin ate the pass. He’s not well.”

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing.

Now they were walking—well, stumbling—back through the edge of the Forbidden Forest, cloaks bundled under their arms, boots muddy, and Sirius’s hair a windblown disaster.

“I’m never letting you navigate again,” Y/N huffed as she caught her foot on a tree root. “We were meant to be back by midnight. It’s half three.”

“I was right about the shortcut,” Sirius insisted. “You’re just lacking in faith. And ankle coordination.”

“I’m going to hex you.”

“You already did,” he said proudly. “And you missed.”

She groaned, half-laughing, pulling her jacket tighter around her. They looked ridiculous—smeared eyeliner, split seams, Muggle concert wristbands still looped around their arms like trophies. The show had been incredible, the kind that crackled under your skin and made everything else fall away. They’d danced like idiots and lost track of every single thing that had been weighing them down.

It had been perfect.

And it made the world feel lighter, for a while.

They finally climbed through the hidden break in the wards just behind the greenhouses, boots thudding softly as they cut across the frost-bitten grass toward the castle.

Y/N shivered. “Next time, let’s use a broom.”

Sirius bumped her shoulder with his. “Next time, I’ll let you navigate.”

They slipped through the side entrance—quiet as shadows—and snuck their way up the staircases, past snoozing portraits and the echo of Peeves somewhere off in the dungeons.

By the time they reached the Fat Lady, they were exhausted and breathless and still stupidly grinning.

“Where have you two been?” she demanded groggily.

“Church,” Sirius said smoothly, and Y/N covered a snort with her sleeve.

They clambered through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, which was mostly dark save for the fire still burning low. The warmth was instant, wrapping around them like a sigh.

But the dorm door was already open.

And there were voices inside.

“Wait,” Y/N whispered, hesitating at the foot of the stairs.

But Sirius had already stepped forward, then stilled.

There, curled on the couch beneath a blanket, were James and Peter. James was snoring into his hand, glasses askew, while Peter blinked up at them with wide, sleep-puffed eyes.

“Pads?” he mumbled. “You’re back.”

Sirius frowned. “Yeah. What—what are you doing down here?”

Peter sat up, rubbing his face. “Didn’t want you to walk in and… see.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

She already knew.

She didn’t know, not exactly—but some things didn’t need saying.

She stepped into the room slowly, voice tight. “See what?”

Peter glanced at the boys’ dorm stairs. “Remus brought someone up.”

Her heart didn’t crack—it splintered.

No curtains could hide the sound that had been filtering through for the past hour: the muffled thud of movement, a soft laugh, a hush of a voice that didn’t belong to her.

“Oh,” she said.

Just that. Soft and empty.

Sirius’s jaw was already tense, hands balling into fists by his sides.

He turned to Y/N, but she was already stepping back—carefully, deliberately. Like if she moved slowly enough, none of it would hurt.

“I should go,” she said.

“No,” Sirius snapped, sharper than intended. Then gentler: “No, stay. Please. Take my bed.”

She shook her head. “I’ll go back to the dungeons.”

“You’re freezing. You barely slept last night. And if you go back now, you’ll think about it until morning. Just…” He stepped forward. “Please, Y/N.”

There was something raw in his voice—earnest in a way that Sirius rarely was.

She hesitated.

Then, finally, nodded.

The dorm was quiet when they entered, save for the fire crackling low in the corner and the faint rustle of movement behind Remus’s curtains. Y/N didn’t look in that direction. Just walked silently to Sirius’s bed and climbed in fully clothed, pulling the blankets over her head.

Sirius sat beside her for a long time, just watching the shape of her in the bed—shoulders curled inward, hands tucked under her cheek like she was trying to disappear.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t tell her she’d be okay. Didn’t tell her Remus was just confused or hurting or scared.

Because it didn’t matter. Not tonight.

Tonight, Remus was somewhere behind that curtain with another girl, and the one person who should’ve mattered most had walked all the way through a forest with Sirius and didn’t even cry when her heart shattered.

Sirius reached down and gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And when she finally drifted off, breath slow and even, he sat beside the bed all night, arms folded, eyes locked on Remus’s closed curtain.

Not in friendship.

Not anymore.

In fury.

—————————————————————————

The first thing Y/N registered was the quiet. The dormitory was wrapped in that soft, morning hush—before breakfast, before voices, before the world remembered to be loud.

The second thing she registered was the blanket pulled neatly over her, tucked just below her chin, and the oversized Gryffindor jumper draped over her feet. Sirius’s.

She sat up slowly, the mattress creaking under her, and found the spot next to her empty.

Sirius was on the floor.

Sprawled in a nest of pillows and his own cloak, one arm flung over his eyes, snoring faintly.

Her chest pinched.

He hadn’t even taken a blanket.

Y/N swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded silently across the room. The door to the attached bathroom creaked slightly as she pushed it open, rubbing the back of her neck, hoping to slip in and out unnoticed.

But of course.

Remus was already there.

He was at the sink, shirt wrinkled, hair damp and curling slightly from a quick rinse. He flinched when he saw her in the mirror.

Y/N didn’t pause.

“Morning,” she said, voice light. Polite.

Remus turned slowly, toothbrush still in hand. “Y/N—”

She moved past him to grab her wand off the counter. “Hope we didn’t wake you last night. Sirius snores like a bloody hippogriff.”

Remus blinked. “No—I—uh—”

She turned, meeting his eyes for the first time. Calm. Collected. Unbothered.

“You left your Transfiguration notes on my desk,” she said. “I’ll drop them back later.”

He swallowed. “You don’t need to—”

“No bother,” she said, tying her hair back. “It’s not like we’re not still… friendly.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

But she was already slipping past him again, not waiting to hear the end of it.

When she emerged into the dorm, the girl from Remus’s bed—slim, Ravenclaw tie still hanging loose around her neck—was perched on the edge of his mattress, legs crossed, chatting quietly with James and Peter.

Y/N smiled as she passed. “Morning.”

The girl blinked. “Oh. Morning!”

“You heading down soon?” Y/N asked, sliding on her shoes.

“Probably. Breakfast smells amazing.”

Y/N nodded. “Try the cinnamon rolls. They’re best on Thursdays.”

Sirius stirred at that, groaning from the floor. “How are you this perky?”

She smirked. “Pure malice and spite.”

James gave a choked sort of cough.

Peter didn’t even pretend not to stare.

And Remus, stepping slowly back into the dorm, towel slung over his shoulder, looked like he’d swallowed an entire page of cursed runes.

“Right,” Y/N said brightly, grabbing her cloak from the end of Sirius’s bed. “Off to breakfast. You lot coming?”

Sirius hauled himself upright, raking a hand through his hair. “Give me two minutes to stop hating the sun and I’m in.”

“I’m coming,” Peter mumbled.

James hesitated. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Only Remus didn’t answer.

Y/N didn’t look at him.

Didn’t need to.

She simply stepped around his bed—around the girl still adjusting her hair in his mirror—and walked out the door.

And all three boys stared after her in silence.

James muttered, finally, “I don’t know if that was terrifying or impressive.”

Sirius, still watching the empty doorway, said softly, “Both.”

Remus sat on the edge of his bed, hands clenched, heart pounding.

And the girl beside him—bright-eyed, lovely, forgettable—asked, “Who was that?”

No one answered.

Because the truth was too heavy to say out loud.

—————————————————————————

The door had barely clicked shut behind the others when Sirius spoke—quietly, but with the kind of venom that could hollow you out.

“You really did it. Properly fucked it this time.”

Remus didn’t look up from where he was yanking on a jumper. “…Don’t start.”

But Sirius was already moving—slow and deliberate, like a storm gathering. “You didn’t just push her away, Moony. You humiliated her. You lied to her face. Made her feel like she meant nothing.”

“I had to,” Remus muttered. “It was the only way to end it cleanly.”

“To make her stop, you mean,” Sirius snapped. “Stop caring about you.”

“She shouldn’t have in the first place,” Remus said, sharper now. “You know what I am.”

“A werewolf?” Sirius bit back, unimpressed. “Yeah, Remus. We all know. And guess what? So does she.”

Remus faltered. “…What?”

Sirius stepped forward. “She’s known for ages. Figured it out on her own. Said you always got sick around the full moon, disappeared for days, came back pale and quiet. She noticed. Of course she noticed. You think she’s not smart enough for that?”

Remus’s mouth opened and closed, wordless.

“You know what else she noticed?” Sirius went on, bitter heat rising in his voice. “The wolfsbane. She’s been helping Pomfrey brew it. Every month. Before you even kissed her, she was already helping keep you alive. She never said a word because she didn’t want you to feel ashamed.”

The colour drained from Remus’s face. His hands twitched at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“She never flinched. Not once,” Sirius said, quieter now. “Just wanted to know if you were alright. Just wanted to love you in peace.”

Remus looked like he’d been winded. “I didn’t know,” he said, barely a whisper.

“Because you didn’t ask.” Sirius’s voice cracked, but he pressed on. “You threw her away because you assumed she couldn’t handle it. Because it was easier to think of her like that than face the truth—that someone already knew every awful, messy part of you and still chose you anyway.”

Silence fell between them like a dropped weight.

Sirius’s tone softened only slightly, but it was worse that way. “She didn’t cry, you know. Last night, after seeing you with someone else. She didn’t yell or make a scene. She said good morning to the girl on your bed. Smiled. Made polite conversation.”

Remus winced.

“And then she walked out like you hadn’t just shattered her three different ways,” Sirius finished. “Like you never meant a damn thing. Maybe that’s what’s killing you. That she let you go without begging.”

Remus stared at the floor, shoulders curled inwards, face drawn like he was trying not to be sick.

Sirius watched him for a beat longer, then turned to go. He paused at the door, slinging his coat over his shoulder.

“She was already braver than you, Moony. But now?” His voice dropped to something steely and final. “Now you don’t deserve her.”

Then he was gone, boots echoing on stone, the door clicking shut behind him.

And Remus stood there alone—his throat burning, chest hollow, and the truth finally pressing in like a wound he couldn’t heal.

—————————————————————————

She found him where she always did when he didn’t want to be found—curled on the floor of the Astronomy Tower at dusk, knees drawn up, jumper sleeves frayed from being picked apart at the cuffs.

He looked up when he heard her steps. Didn’t speak. Just blinked, like he wasn’t sure if she was real.

Y/N stopped a few feet away. Arms crossed, jaw tight. “You don’t get to pretend you didn’t want this conversation.”

Remus swallowed. “I wasn’t—”

“You’ve been moping in every corridor I walk through, looking at me like I’m some ghost you didn’t expect to haunt you.”

He didn’t deny it.

She sighed. “Say what you need to say, Lupin.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I thought I had to.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she muttered, but there was no venom in it. Just exhaustion.

“I thought,” he tried again, “that if I made you hate me, it would be easier for you to walk away.”

Her gaze narrowed. “And you thought the best way to do that was to call me a slut?”

Remus flinched. “I didn’t— I said it because I was angry. And scared. And stupid.”

“You said it because you meant it,” she replied, voice flat. “Because somewhere in your head, it was easier to believe I’d never cared than accept that I did—and you left anyway.”

He looked at her then. Really looked. “That’s not true.”

“No?” she asked. “Because you didn’t even ask how I knew. About the transformations. You just assumed I’d hate you. Like you wanted me to.”

Remus was quiet.

“I figured it out months ago,” she said. “You disappear every full moon. You come back wrecked. I’ve read more medical texts than you’d believe—I connected the dots. And once I knew, I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

“You’ve been helping Pomfrey,” he murmured. “All this time.”

She nodded once. “Because I care. Because I still care. And no, I’m not going to stop making your damn wolfsbane, no matter what kind of emotional self-destruction you’re hellbent on.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, ashamed.

“But you don’t get to take that as hope,” she said, and her voice trembled, just a little. “Because the boy I loved wouldn’t have used my worst fears against me. Wouldn’t have looked me in the face and thrown my past at me like it was filth.”

“I know,” he said, barely audible. “I know.”

“I told you once that I didn’t scare easy,” she said. “But I was wrong. That moment—you? Saying those things? That scared the hell out of me.”

Remus opened his mouth, but she raised a hand.

“No. Don’t apologise. I don’t need it.”

He looked like he might cry. She didn’t.

Instead, she stepped back toward the stairs. “You told me I didn’t know you. That was your first lie.”

He looked up sharply.

“I did know you,” she said, voice soft. “You just didn’t like being known.”

And with that, she turned and left—soft-footed as snowfall, no flare of drama. Just silence in her wake.

Remus stayed seated on the floor, alone again.

But this time, he didn’t pretend it was what he wanted.

———————————————————————————

I am sorry about this y’all

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Masterlist

[ckret2]

Wait okay in The Book of Bill, Bill’s putting in all these pages himself while he’s in the theraprism, right? So… how could he have gotten his hands on the lost journal pages in there? I’ve seen people point out certain inconsistencies in them (Ford being drawn with a hair streak even though it’s supposed to take place earlier, etc.) What are your thoughts?

My theory is that either somehow he got his hands on the pages before his incarceration and stowed them in TBOB; or TBOB itself, being a magical book that can regenerate & "corrupt" other books & teleport around when you aren't looking, got hold of the journal and ripped the pages out itself.

I've seen all the "but Ford's drawn wrong" "but Ford never does Bill's handwriting like that" "but why weren't these pages present in the J3 we read after it was magically fully repaired" "but Ford was supposed to meet Bill in J2" chatter suggesting that maybe the pages aren't legit, and honestly? I think the explanation for all of these issues is "Alex last worked on J3 like eight years before TBOB and he & the artists were more concerned with beefing up Ford's relationships with Bill and Fiddleford than they were with little details like that." This is a situation where the doylist explanation is much simpler and a lot more likely than a watsonian complicated forgery scheme.

So that's my serious "what I think happened in canon" explanation for all that.

Separately, my own headcanon:

Personally I've theorized for ages that the journals weren't written chronologically (because if Ford fully filled J1 and J2 before starting J3, why did he just so happen to have blank two-page spreads in J1 & J2 on which he could write the portal blueprints, and why did Stan find SOME portal instructions in J1?), so my own headcanon is that the J3 we've read is indeed complete with all pages, and these pages are actually taken out of Journal 2. There might even be a few pages out of J1. Bill advertised them as "missing Journal 3 pages" because he knew The Reader Of TBOB is a GF fan who has more of an emotional connection to J3 than 1 and 2. The idea that he was filling the journals non-chronologically explains why these pages also cover events that happened during J3; which journal Ford was writing in on any day randomly bounced between journals.

This isn't an "I think this might have been the authorial intent" headcanon, this is an "I think the author accidentally introduced some inconsistencies so this is how I'm privately justifying them" headcanon.

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I've had this thought swirling in the back of my head for a while, but it's finally congealed enough that I think I can make a coherent pitch, which is: I think RWBY's problems with the more vitriolic part of its fanbase partially stems from the fact that RWBY is a deconstruction that doesn't advertise it's a deconstruction.

RWBY's status as a deconstruction is pretty textbook. It takes apart standard fantasy, shounen, and anime tropes in order to analyze them and their deeper meaning and then reassembles them in new and interesting ways for the plot/characters/series. Thing is, it never says that outright in promotional material, which can lead to later outrage in fans.

See, unless their way of discovering new shows is to close their eyes and stab their finger at random, most people tend to choose series to watch/read based on expectations. Maybe a friend said they'll like it because it has [insert thing], maybe they read the summary and were intrigued, maybe they thought the poster/cover art was cool, whatever. These small pieces of information are generally enough for people to make a snap-judgment of the style and genre of the series, which they can then gauge against their personal tastes and decide whether or not they want to try.

Most of the time, this works just fine. Well-written deconstructions also generally give the viewers some warning/buildup before they take a hard swerve. See Madoka Magica: the magical girl paradigm is shaded by the possibility of death as soon as we're introduced to it, then there's an onscreen death with blood, and then a few episodes later we eventually realize the Faustian bargain of it all. Even innocent viewers who stumbled into watching it, unaware of the show's reputation, would go "Oh, wait, this is not going in the direction magical girl shows usually go" by a third of the way through.

The thing is, with RWBY, this does not happen unless you're paying a lot of attention and/or looking for it. And neither the cover art nor the summary nor, I believe, the fanbase gives a lot of warning about the swerves ahead.

In fact, RWBY initially bills itself as a pretty standard shounen anime. The main protagonist is hinted to have Special Powers and gets into the Magic Monster-Hunting School in the first episode, and the first two-and-a-half seasons are taken up by her and her friends' superhero-esque slice-of-life shenanigans as they thwart robberies and terrorist attacks and gear up for a tournament arc against the looming background of a larger conspiracy.

Then in the last half of the third season the villains' entire Rube Goldberg machine of a scheme snaps into completion and the plot twists so hard the entire genre takes a hard right. If you're used to character analysis and common anime tropes, this is not completely a surprise -up until this point, RWBY's character arcs and plot have been subtly traveling in non-traditional directions that hint of greater flexibility in genre treatment ahead- but if you're not... well.

Thing is, people watching RWBY up until this point have signed up for pretty standard shounen and they've been getting it, but the third season's ending smashes that all to bits. From then on out in RWBY, it's like they ordered fries and suddenly got a hamburger. It might be delicious; but it's not what they asked for, what they wanted, or what they paid for, and they are, justifiably, displeased.

So when the reasonable people either adjusted their expectations or sighed, shook their heads, and clicked back out (perhaps with a grumble and a scowl), the unreasonable people dug their heels in and began insisting that everybody was Getting The Show/Character Wrong and that CRWBY is ruining it, because the fact that RWBY's method of deconstruction is to put standard tropes in a blender and then arrange what's left in deceptive patterns means that said unreasonable viewers can scan the bare surface and argue that all the stereotypical stuff is clearly still under there, somewhere.

So they're continually trying to drag RWBY back to the tracks of a typical shounen anime series (it's closest relative), which creates a dissonance between the show they're watching and the show they think they're watching. They're trying to turn the hamburger back into fries, basically, except that doesn't work and just frustrates everyone involved, because you're trying to make RWBY into something that it's not. Hence, this attitude probably starting/fueling some of the more contentious statements in the fandom, i.e.:

"Ironwood was right the whole time" (in most action movies and shounen anime, allied military leaders are trustworthy beyond reproach)

"Adam's character was wasted" (we all know how much shounen loves their powerful warrior antiheroes)

"Ruby and the others are in the wrong about [insert thing]/or for doing [insert thing], and this is bad writing!" (shounen protagonists don't usually make more than One Very Big Mistake over the course of their entire careers, which is usually fixed/overcome/redeemed via an appropriately rigorous training arc)

And to be clear, there's nothing wrong with shounen tropes or shounen anime. They're wonderful storytelling devices in their own way and their own time: but if you want standard by-the-book shounen without any new and interesting concoctions, then RWBY is definitely not the show for you. And most people don't find that out until it's too late.

[miyamiwu]

Nice and Lin Ling are white lotus flowers:

White lotus flower (白莲花, bái lián huā) = has two meanings: 1. someone who is genuinely too kind, harmless, and pure. 2. someone who appears pure and harmless outside but is actually scheming and corrupt inside. Online, people often refer to the sarcastic second meaning

Nice should’ve been the first type, and maybe that’s why he jumped to his death. He could no longer handle the lies he was forced to sell through his brand. On the other hand, Lin Ling is going to be the second type. I just know it.

As someone who used to work in advertising, Lin Ling has an advantage in this world where a person’s power is shaped by trust: He knows how to sell himself. He knows how to get people to trust him.

The Lin Ling we see now is still a genuinely nice guy, but I doubt he’ll remain the same after how episode 1 ended.

Edit: I take this back. Lin Lin is such a sweetheart. May he always stay the same 🙏

Edit2: WE ARE SO BACK

[dcdreamblog]

Hey is NASA astronaut Mag Sivana related to the supervillain with the same surname?

Yep! (...one of my FAVORITE things about my job is that I get to answer absurdist questions like "Is this will respected NASA astronaut related to one of the most infamous nutjobs of the modern era?" give a totally reductive yet honest answer and then watch the look on people's faces.) Anyway!

(A tabloid photograph of Mag Sivana, it was the first one I found) Magnificus Sivana (no seriously, that's his name, you will see that his family has a habit of this) is the eldest son of Dr. Thaddeus Bodog Sivana and his first wife Venus Sivana (That is all the attention I am going to be calling to the names. It is what it is, we are moving on). Because the elder Sivana is such a well known bastard in the modern day its easy to forget that a few decades ago he was mostly known as a technical genius, business innovator and corporate shark. Building up the world renowned "Sivana Industries" through a mix of his very honest genius and every lowdown, dirty tactic in the business books. This of course changed with the debut of Captain Marvel in Sivana's native Fawcett City where, like Lex Luthor a few scant years before him Sivana would become an instant rival of his city's new superhero due to his obvious and pervasive corruption but before that while his corruption was JUST as well known (Media of the era would hardly mention his name without trotting out the truism "Love to Hate" about the man) but in an 80s stockbroker sense.

In fact, just LIKE Lex Luthor, a man with whom their similarities seem to have sparked a decades long deep antipathy between the two men, Sivana was ALSO known as a philanderer and womanizer. His first major sex scandal caused the breakup of his marriage to his first wife, Venus who separated from Sivana along with their two oldest children Magnificus and Beautia.

Once his obsession with getting one over on Captain Marvel drove Sivana Sr DIRECTLY off his rocker turning him into a living parody of mad scientists somewhere between Dr. Frankenstein and the Cryptkeeper, Sivana's family became rather infamous mostly down to his younger children Georgia and Thaddeus Jr who often assisted their father in his harebrained schemes. The older siblings, Magnificus and Beautia preferred to lay low and did not advertise their relation to the man. There's a reason that in most polite company Magnificus goes by 'Mag' and his sister goes by 'Tia'. Mag had a short but eventful career in the air force where he showed great apatite in the fields of suborbital physics putting him on the short list of NASA's Aphrodite program for a manned flyby of Venus. He was temporarily caught up in his father's orbit helping to lure Captain Marvel into a trap but his better nature overcame his familial obligation and he helped the good Captain escape the trap and stop his father. He is, as of this moment, the only non superhuman to have visited Venus' orbit. Ever since then he's taken a step back from being a full time astronaut and works in some kind of technical capacity at NASA. If you ever get a chance to meet him, ask him about literally ANY of the fascinating parts of his life that don't involve his family history yea?

[allfryam]

the restaurant

Mike sighed as he looked at the revenue of his restaurant. It had been steadily declining over the past few years and if he didn’t change something soon, he would have to close down.

Mike wasn’t some loser that would just give up though. He was willing to do ANYTHING to keep people coming back to his restaurant. Scrolling online one day, he came across quite the odd advertisement. It was for an expiramental supplement that claimed to make your food “addictively delicious”. He reluctantly bought it and tried it for himself. He sprinkled a small amount of the powder on a piece of chicken and took a bite. As soon as he swallowed, chicken was all he could think about. He ate an entire rotisserie chicken in 2 minutes flat. As the effects of the powder began to wear off, Mike felt more full than he ever had. Looking closer at the bottle, he noticed something. In super fine print, it said, “one serving adds 2000 calories to any meal”. Mikes eyes grew wide. No wonder he was so full! He just ate over a days worth of calories in less than 5 minutes.

the next day, Mike brought the powder to work and sprinkled some on all of the ingredients in the fridge. He made sure every dish would get at least one serving of the powder. He nervously watched as servers began serving the addicting food, but as people started to eat, Mike saw their eyes grow wide and he watched them devour plate after plate of the powdered food. At the end of the night, Mike had to kick a few tables out that were still demanding more food. Mike giggled with delight as he looked at the restaurants revenue for the night. It was the most they’d made in years!

Mike continued his little scheme, and his restaurant continued to flourish. They were getting more customers than ever and they were ordering insane amounts of food. A group of college students had been regulars at the restaurant for quite some time, but recently, Mike noticed them coming in every single day! The insane amount of food they were eating was beginning to take a toll on their waistlines however. One of the boys, Ben, ordered at least 4-5 plates of the Mac and cheese every night. His once flat stomach had begun growing into a round gut. It pushed against his tight shirts and hung over his belt. Another one of the college guys, Devin, had gotten even fatter. His favorite dish was the pulled pork sandwich. He ordered at least ten of them every night, and by the end of his meal, his expanding gut would make its way out of the bottom of his shirt and start pushing up against the table. The last guy in their group, Liam, was definitely the fattest though. He had already had a big appetite before Mike’s scheme due to the fact he was a bodybuilder. But now, it was unmatched. He would order plate after plate of tacos. When Mike saw Liam walk in, he would let the servers know not to sell tacos to any other customers because Liam would eat them all. Mike looked at Liam’s check one night after he left. Liam ate 16 plates of tacos, with 5 on each plate! That’s 80 tacos in one sitting! Liam was quickly becoming massive. The only thing bigger that his immense muscles was his huge belly. Mike had to sit him at his own separate booth with extra room between the seat and the table just so his belly could fit!

Mike felt kinda bad for making his customers gain so much weight, but his restaurant was thriving! Who cares if some losers gain a little weight. They were happy. That’s all that mattered.