Slow Fashion And Greenwashing: Navigating The Ethical Mase Of Sustainability

was telling my therapist about how i've always used books, fanfic, and storytelling as escapism but now instead of me consuming stories, stories consume me. dalton gave me The Look (the one that means he's gonna say something i need to hear but don't want to) before asking, "you know that snake that eats itself?" to which i said, "yeah, ouroboros." and he replied, "i didn't know he had a name, that's cool. anyway, you're the snake. i know you've convinced yourself the consumption is filling, but it's not. when it's you you’re eating, it's destruction."

like yeah i know that’s not what the snake represents and ex-cowboy-turned-combat-vet-turned-trauma specialist dalton probably does not know the exact symbolism behind it but like. jesus christ man did that to lay me to waste at 10:30 on a wednesday morning.

and even though he hurt my feelings with the truth, it did put it into perspective for me.

it’s not levity’s lighthouse guiding me to port when depression’s darkness and anxiety’s turbulent waves make it difficult for me to sail smoothly on my voyage.

it’s not a way to alleviate my symptoms, it’s a manifestation of them.

it’s a compulsion, deceptively insidious when cloaked in distraction’s pseudo-warmth. when easily covered by procrastination’s much easier to swallow explanation.

and i’m sure you want to say “but reading is a healthy coping mechanism!”

and it is. when done in moderation.

it’s no longer coping when your screen time is 16 hours a day. when 12 of those hours a day are spent scuttling about ao3 on all fours. when you sit in the same spot on the couch for hours on end with your head buried in the sand. when it’s literally all you can think about.

the consumption isn’t coping. isn’t creation. isn’t reconstruction or rebirth or reformation. it’s chaos. it’s compulsion.

it’s cannibalism.

the window's looking real nice

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who they figure out they're obsessed with [659 words]

written in collaboration with @unstablereader CW: platonic!girlfriend reader again [similar concept to this fic, it’s the exact same trope friends just reimagined lol], one mature innuendo but SFW, possessive Evan, chaos and violence loving Barty

“Well,” Evan’s voice echoed, interrupting the conversation you’d been in the middle of with Fabian Prewett, “doesn’t this look cosy.” 

Your attention moved to the open doorway as Evan sauntered in, offering him a half smile as he kept a rather predatory gaze locked on Fabian. 

“Oh, hey Ev.” You greeted quickly, twisting your body where you’d been sitting criss-cross on one of the desks in order to face him. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was just about to ask the same thing.” Evan replied as he made it to you, one hand worming its way to your waist as the other settled on your knee. His glare never faltered as he deigned to reply. “I just endured a temper tantrum from Junior; said something about someone ‘stealing his treasure’. Is that what’s happening here, Prewett?”

“We were working on our Herbology essay.” Fabian explained simply, meeting Evan’s obvious hostility with a smirk. 

“Were you now?” He continued, the ghost of a smile on his lips that never met his eyes. “Looked like a pretty intimate study session.” 

“Yeah?” Fabian goaded. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Rosier.”

“Well you clearly don’t know a fucking thing, then, because I am jealous.” Evan replied evenly; his words and his rather blase deliverance of them shocking both you and Fabian. 

“What?” You barely managed to get out, causing Evan’s intense gaze to soften as it moved from Fabian to you. 

“I’m jealous, darling girl.” He stated plainly; gaze unwavering. “I already have to share you with Junior, and I only do that because I rather like sod. I don’t like Prewett; I don’t like the way he talks to you, I don’t like the way he behaves around you, and I definitely don’t like the way he looks at you. I want to be the only one who does any of that.”

Fabian let out a disbelieving scoff. “Have you lost the plot, mate? We’re in the middle-”

“Prewett, I’m going to warn you, I am this close to throwing you out of the fucking window.” Evan threatened darkly, though his grip never strengthened on your waist or knee. “And whilst Junior might like that, she’d be upset, so I’m not going to.”

Fabian seemed to deflate a little, but Evan carried on. 

“But the next time I find you hitting on my girl, I might consider it worth making her frown over.” He paused, smiling. 

“And I’ll make sure we’re on a much higher floor.” Barty added, seemingly materialising out of thin air to add to Evan’s point. 

“Barty! I- Evan.” You stuttered, reprimanding them both as you tried to shake yourself from this stupor they just put you in.

“Don’t worry, poppet. I’ve been told I’m real good with my mouth; I’m sure I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” He promised with a wink. 

“I’m out of here.” Fabian finally spat as he grabbed his belongings. 

“Brilliant idea.” Barty cheered, smiling tauntingly at the sod as he threw his bag over his shoulder, offered you an apologetic look, and stormed out of the room. “Have a bad day!”

“I-” you started breathlessly “what the hells was all of that about?”

Whilst Barty had no qualms beaming at you, Evan had the grace to look at least somewhat chagrined as he returned his gaze to you. 

“Regulus may have pointed out that the feelings Barty and I have for you are less than platonic,” He explained, ignoring Barty’s petulant ‘that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you!’ as he packed your school supplies into your bag and helped you off of the desk, “so I figured I ought to come and tell you.”

“Well...okay, but where’re we going?” You asked, taking Barty’s hand and following him obediently. 

“To the Great Hall.” Evan explained, your bag over his shoulder and his hand on your lower back as he held the door open for you. “Gotta make sure everyone else knows, too.”

some aurora angst because she's on my mind and nothing's stopping me

so when she and phantom were summoned only one was supposed to be summoned, a quintessence ghoul. not a multi ghoul. yet she was still pulled from her safe place to a new different place and it hurt.

it hurt even more than it usually is because she and phantom were pulled together, at the same time exactly.

and she was welcomed with open arms but she couldn't get over the fact that she wasn't supposed to be there. she wasn't called. she wasn't the one they needed nor wanted.

sometimes she sits quietly somewhere cold in the middle of the night, because she doesn't feel like she deserves to be warm or like she deserves to sleep, and just looks at the burns that being summoned left on her physical form and thinks about how she wasn't meant to be in the band.

no one knows about those moments, she won't tell anyone, she don't want to bother them more than she already did by just being summoned.

Little pumpkin

Papaaa phantom and rain are flirting on stage again 😪

:)))

this has been rotting in my wips but anyways my take on the ghouls please accept it hehe

Nikita Gill, from Your Heart is the Sea: Poems; "The Anguish," originally published in 2018

Madeira, Portugal (by James Dimas)

lovely Hii

Can i get poly!marauders x fem reader where maybe she has been exhausted and busy lately and maybe they’re giving her some space cause they dont know if she wants affection now but she sees them all lovey dovey with eachother all the time and she feels sad cause she wants to join but feels too shy to ask so she tries to discreetly slip back and one of them notices?

Im sorry if that is a bunch of gibberish but i have been awake for over a day now and my brain is fried (i hate uni)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <333

(comments are always appreciated and i literally need to see what you think to keep writing, angels. of course i can't force you to send me anything but it would be amazing if you take two seconds to tell me what you think. it's not always easy to keep doing something without getting any feedback about it ♡)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

the relationship between james and remus has always been somewhat chaotic.

they have huge chemistry, maybe something like opposites attract situation. remus is calm when james is bubbling with excitement, remus loves with silent kisses when james loses his breath as he makes love, remus likes rationality when james swims deep in his emotions.

you watch them flirt as they sit on the couch. you're at the table across them in the living room, staring at your laptop screen with exhausted eyes. it probably would be easier to complete what you've been writing if you could have more energy, but sadly you sit all tense and cold at your place. your arms get the chills, you avoid looking at your lovers.

if you leave the table to join them, james and remus would welcome you with open arms. the mere thought of james's lips against your forehead and remus's fingers rubbing your neck makes you want to cry loudly. it's just torturing yourself, but you don't think you're strong enough to ask for love. you need to get this done. you need to think about the classes you gotta pass.

james kisses a line on his boyfriend's cheek, so warm, remus practically loses his mind. "where's sirius?" james asks, remembering sirius leave for the kitchen minutes ago. "is he burning up our kitchen, do you think?"

"we would've notice."

"no, we wouldn't." james whispers. "you're too damn distracting."

remus melts. autumn always brings starvation for touch and loving, two things james is the best at giving. he looks at your way briefly, your droopy eyes worry him.

"she seems so tired." remus says, his lips kiss james's knuckles mindlessly. "should we say something to make her give a break?"

"she said the essay has a deadline, moons." james answers. "i mean, she clearly needs a break, but i'm not sure if we should interrupt her."

it's hard to decide because you get nervous with breaks sometimes. you complain about not controlling the time good enough when you're spending your free minutes with them and being unable to finish stuff at time. you say most of this teasingly, but the boys know there's always some truth in it.

sirius walks into the room with a big mug in his hands. he carries it carefully to your table. james and remus watch the scene, their hands together and legs tangled.

"here it is." sirius puts the mug on the table. "a perfect cup of hot chocolate for my gorgeous girl."

you look at him with the widest eyes. you can't cry. fuck, he's so sweet. he smiles, he looks so handsome with his old t-shirt and messed up hair. you close your laptop, curve your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"this is so nice, siri." you say to him, unshed tears clog your throat. "thank you."

"um- can i get a kiss? i spend fifteen minutes for this."

you nod with a smile, he leans down for you. you only mean to kiss his cheek, but he smells so good and he's so kind- your hand shakes as it touches his shoulder. it doesn't take sirius long to understand what's going on. he manages to hug you before you start crying.

"oh, baby, no-" he says with a sad voice. he attempts to make a joke. "you can't cry for hot chocolate- i'm sure it doesn't even taste that good."

james and remus sit straight with worry. "dove?" remus leaves the couch. "what's wrong?"

"are you okay?"

you nod, they probably won't believe it. you hold onto sirius, he lifts you up from the chair. it's a proper hug now, your skin tingles with the sensation. it feels so good to be touched.

"it's okay." sirius kisses your head. "you're just overwhelmed. you're okay."

you keep your head on sirius's chest. he's warm and his arms are strong, he supports your body to help you stay on your feet. remus brings his hand on your waist, his thumb gently draws a circle.

"can we go to bed?" you ask. separating yourself from sirius is hard, but it's harder to stay vertical. james extends a hand to you, you hold it greedily. they are all thinking the same thing, you'll calm down but you need to feel safe enough with your surroundings to do that. even though they'd like to keep you stuck in their arms, this might not be the best idea.

the bed is cold. it will pass in a few minutes. remus takes you under the blanket, james adjusts the pillows. sirius has a wrinkle between his eyebrows, he gets behind you on bed and wraps his arm around your shoulder. you sniffle softly, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.

"sorry." you offer, your voice sounds sincerely sorry. "i don't know what came over me."

"i think we should be sorry." remus says. "jamie and i were talking about whether we should tell you to take a break but- we didn't wanna distract you. we should've distract you."

"it's not your fault that i can't manage my time doing stuff i've been doing for years." you say, weakly. "i'm just sick of being tired. i guess i- missed you."

sirius gives you a generous kiss on the side of your head. "you can jump on us any time you want, you know that, gorgeous."

"i think my head doesn't work like that when i'm exhausted."

"it doesn't have to." james says. his voice is like honey. "you don't have to ask for anything. we should be giving you everything before you even have to ask."

"he's right." remus agrees. "it should be like this for all of us, i think."

you nod. your eyes have a grateful look in them, they are undeniably tired, but still pretty to your boys. the bed is warmer. you force yourself to stop counting down the minutes for deadlines. james puts his head on your chest, hugs you as your back touches the bed, his arms are tight around you like you'll run away.

it's good to be touched. it's amazing to have contact with their hands, safe and secure, you can do anything you want if you always feel like this. remus kisses your fingers. his eyes are gentle. they are all so gentle, kind with you, you feel like you'll never break as long as you have them.

sirius's kisses help you fall asleep at the end. he's always bold with his affections, this time he manages to be softer with his lips and more tender with his hands. long fingers in your hair, chapped lips on your skin. he whispers how much he adores you, the tone of his voice hits your mind so well. you are okay. you think you'll be okay, and that's a nice beginning to get things done.