shared accord

Heyooooo peeps.

I am not usually one to put anyone on blast. I often don’t care enough, but I do this time <3

Just a shutout to warn about this homophobic weirdo. I’m not sure what all that’s about but eyyyyyy! People are still ignorant. Surprise! This sidelined me a little.

This is on Wyrmrest Accord. Share, don’t share. Don’t care. Just figured some of the lgbtq+ community that RP on this realm might want to be alerted before hand to avoid any discomfort from accidentally tangling with this dude.

Love you babes <3


“I’ve got a new business…”

David Tennant and Catherine Tate playing the “I’ve got a new business…” game on the set of Nan’s Christmas Carol.

Spirit of place - who do you share your space with?

According to a common definition, animism is the belief that ‘everything has spirit’. You hear people talk about 'the spirit of the tree’ or 'the spirit of the river’.

This might make it sound as though animists believe that there is a spirit entity attached to, say, a tree, that is somehow separate. An inhabitant of the spirit world that looks after the tree.

That’s not how I see it. The spirit of a tree is the deepest reality of the tree itself. It reveals itself in the shape of its branches, in its flowers and fruits. It is the tree in all its aliveness, connected to the soil that holds it and the air that feeds it.

The spirit of the tree is also part of the spirit of the place where it grows. Each locality is filled with spirit, which is made up of the life and presence of everything there.

If the tree is old, if it has shared in the life of that place for a long time, it may have become a guardian. Its spirit will be very noticeable as part of the spirit of place, like a repeating melody in a piece of music, or a dominant colour in a painting.

But everything there, from the tiniest pebble to the quality of the light, contributes to the spirit of the place. It all sings together of the magic of life as it expresses itself in that particular place.

The room you are in right now has its own spirit. If it is your room, your own spirit will have created much of it, choosing objects and furniture according to your taste and personality.

Each of those objects, the materials they are made of, the fabric of the building and its history also contribute to the spirit of your room.

I am writing this in the tiny flat we have made in our house while it is being renovated. Fire is burning in the wood stove. Some washing is drying next to it. The oven is cooking our dinner. My husband is doing something on his own laptop. This is the house he grew up in, and we are still living with some of the furnishings his parents left behind. The spirit of this room has many stories to tell.

What spirits are sharing your space right now? How do they combine to make up the spirit of the place? How can you acknowledge them?

(picture from



The Houses when their partner hogs the covers:

A Gryffindor will accept the sacrifice for their partner.

A Hufflepuff would wrap it around their partner so they’re as warm as possible.

A Ravenclaw would logically get a spare set of covers.

A Slytherin would be the one hogging the covers.


Atlanta reporter resigns after saying “nigga” to get scoop on a police brutality video

  • Valerie Hoff, a reporter for Atlanta’s 11Alive news, resigned on Saturday after using the racial slur in a direct message, hoping it would get her the scoop on a video of two white officers punching a black man.
  • On April 13, Curtis Rivers, who tweets as @CurtFromDaBlock, shared the video footage. 
  • According to the Root, Hoff contacted Rivers shortly after he tweeted that “news niggas” were trying to get hold of his video footage. 
  • Naturally, Hoff slid into his DMs and wrote, “please call this news nigga” — referring to herself as a “nigga.”
  • Hoff then got straight to business asking Rivers where he got the footage (he got it from a group chat). 
  • After an initial “LMFAO” response, Rivers called out Hoff for using the slur as a white woman. “I just looked through your photos and realized you aren’t black, but you called me a nigga.”
  • Hoff immediately attempted to apologize, citing that her main concern was giving the video justice. But in reply, Rivers asked, “How would I be able to contact your manager or lawyer?”
  • Hoff later told the Atlanta Journal Constitution that she has, and will continue to, apologize for her extremely offensive remark. Read more (5/1/17 12:15 PM)

follow @the-movemnt


Originally posted by tahyns

summary: what in the world would make the best racer out there to give up his passion?
pairing: yoongi x reader
word count: 1.8k
content: racer!yoongi and a serious heartache
a/n: i broke my head and my heart while writing this but also so proud??? huge thanks to @haljorda-n and @seoulscapes for putting up with my despair helping me out with this one, i swear i’ll make up for you guys some day.

“Is that all?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed to his forehead as he analyzed the man in front of him. If Yoongi was nervous, no one could tell. His relaxed posture  while looking around made it seem like he was doing Namjoon a favor, not the other way around. “You’ve been gone for weeks and ‘doing things’ is really the only piece of explanation you give as you ask me for a spot on this race?”

“That’s the only explanation you need.” he shrugged, his eyes never failing to portrait his confidence. “Am I in or not?”

Namjoon had all the reasons in the world to be suspicious but he was not dumb. Min Yoongi collected several ups and downs and had a difficult personality himself but if he said he could race, the first place had already a banner with his name. He was the best pilot in town and people still couldn’t understand why other people would want to compete with him knowing they didn’t stand a chance - that’s how good he was.

Keep reading

Today I learned: total social spending (health, pensions, welfare, etc.) per person is technically higher in the US than in Denmark and Sweden, but its provided in dramatically different ways, far less of it goes to the poor. 

The standard measure of a country’s social spending (health, pensions, welfare, etc.) is “gross public expenditures as a share of GDP.” According to this measure, social democratic countries like Denmark and Sweden provide much more social security for citizens than the US does (row 1). However, this measure doesn’t take into account “private social spending” (employer-provided benefits), it doesn’t take into account tax breaks as a form of social spending, it doesn’t take into account how much of benefits get taxed, and it doesn’t take into account differences in GDP per capita. That matters a lot, since, unlike in most other countries, the US does a lot of social spending through the tax code and employer-provided benefits; additionally, we tax public benefits going to the rich at a lower rate, and we have a higher GDP per capita.

When we use another measure which takes these things into account, “net public and private social expenditures per person,” we actually spend more on social spending per person than either of those countries do (row 2). However, because employer-provided benefits typically go to those with well-paying careers, tax benefits are used more by the wealthy, and public benefits going to the wealthy are taxed less, it’s simply that the poor receive far less of this social spending for the poor (bottom decile) (row 4). This produces America’s lower income in the bottom decile (row 3) and higher rates of material deprivation (row 5).

Something not taken into account in this analysis, however, is that greater total social spending in America may only be because of dramatically higher healthcare costs, as it would cost more to provide the same level of healthcare coverage here than in Denmark or Sweden. Thus, “spending” may not accurately represent the value of the benefits.

Source: Lane Kenworthy, “Social Democratic America,” 2014, pg. 124-127.

Email to Conservative MP re: DUP

(Copy, paste, share and tailor according to your own Conservative MP. Template originally shared by @bottrill on Google Docs here:


As one of your constituents, I’m writing to you to express my outrage at the suggestion that your party is prepared to cooperate with the DUP in order to remain in government.

I know that this election result was surprising for all of us, and there is no clear or easy solution without an outright majority for any one party, but I am shocked and appalled that the Conservatives are willing to partner with a party that holds such extreme views that are damaging to so many people.

For instance, despite many absences on your voting record, it shows that you generally support equal rights for the LGBT community, on issues such as same sex marriage amongst others [CHECK THIS HERE: ].

Here is a list of DUP stances, in case you need a reminder:

- The DUP want to make it legal to discriminate against anyone from the LGBT community

- The DUP want children to be taught creationism as scientific fact

- The DUP want no woman to have access to any type of abortion, and furthermore criminalise anyone offering or seeking that service

- The DUP want to bring back the death penalty

There are many other issues with the DUP, and I am also concerned as to what this alliance would mean for so many Northern Ireland and Republic of Ireland citizens (our close allies), especially when entering Brexit negotiations.

Please explain how you intend to oppose such a coalition or alliance, as it is of immediate concern to myself and many of your constituents.






Noir: Part 2

I made my way back to the wall of glass behind me. What kept drawing me to the shadows of darkness just beyond this office, I wondered. Maybe her lack of confidence in my experience appeared less inviting than the weather. Perhaps that thin-line between the ugliness and beauty of society is where I belonged. Likely it was my discontent for the odors of secondhand smoke and the lack of a chair on my side of the desk.

We shared a mutual accord of skepticism in the long, drawn-out silence. The awkwardness was thick enough to be cut by the stilettos carving her feet. She used the moment to finish that cigarette while I contemplated showing her the door. A distant thunder emphasized the mood; foreshadowing the plot.

       “Looks like we’re due for quite a storm.” Ms. Miller interjected.

       “If only it would wash this city away. This place could use a good clean.”

       “Takes more than water to clean something, Mr. Williams.”

“True, but few could afford the soap.” The sudden sternness in her demeanor seemed to reflect what I was implying. I was always a straight shooter when it came to intent; direct, being how I handled most matters. Though, it seems the lingering stench of her infectious wordplay was quite contagious. I wasn’t going to beat around the bush any longer. “Something tells me it’s not a problem for you.”

       “What makes you think that?” An inquisitive irritation moved from her lips.

       “You seem cut out for it; the silver screen that is… A pretty dame like you, 
       here in Hollywood, must’ve been in a few pictures.”

       “Get a lot of ‘pretty dames’ like me through here?”

       “Yeah, but they’re a bit more roughed up when I see them.”

The truth seemed to break her concentration. It was hard getting a read on her thoughts; expressions were the only tells I had to go by. She knew how to play the game well, almost as if her tough skin was earned on a bed nails unlike the bruised satin I was used to dealing with. “Well, Mr. Williams… I’m afraid you’re not as perceptive as I hoped. Even if I was ‘cut out for it’, they don’t put colored girls like me in the pictures.”

       “That’s a damn shame.” I offered.

       “Is that sarcasm I detect?”

       “It was a compliment.”

       “Empty flattery might get you somewhere, but not with me.”

       “No offense. You’re not my type.”

       “What… Smart, sophisticated, or just my skin color?”

       “You’re too ‘rich’ for my tastes.”

“But not for your wallet, it seems.” I was starting to get to her. The playful and witty tone from before was souring. She was a fighter for sure, I admired that in a woman, but honest rejection of societal standing came off as an uncommon excuse. It was an earned entitlement from her perspective; only a pay day for me. “If money is all that you love, then that’s what you’ll receive.”

       “You did your research on me. What were you expecting?”

       “A bit of empathy for my situation would do.”

       “Kindness doesn’t put food on the table.”

That seemed enough for her and for me as well. It’s not that I couldn’t use the money, but my sympathy wasn’t for sale. At least the battered and beaten gave me cause for compassion. She was too proud and prideful to be considered a victim. “I guess your time is more expensive than I am willing to pay for.” 

       “Best of luck, Ms. Miller. Hopefully you can keep your hands clean from
       this ‘mess’ of yours.”

She stood from the chair; shouldering her purse. I was normally a gentleman when it came to a woman exiting, but a gesture of honor wouldn’t change her disposition. Just before the threshold of departure, she felt the need for a final insult. “A storm is coming, Mr. Williams. Hopefully you don’t get washed away.”

Did I want to be like him? Did I want to be him? Or did I just want to have him? Or are ‘being’ and 'having’ thoroughly inaccurate verbs in the twisted skein of desire, where having someone’s body to touch and being that someone we’re longing to touch are one and the same, just opposite banks on a river that passes from us to them, back to us and over to them again in this perpetual circuit where the chambers of the heart, like the trapdoors of desire, and the wormholes of time, and the false-bottomed drawer we call identity share a beguiling logic according to which the shortest distance between real life and the life unlived, between who we are and what we want, is a twisted staircase designed with the impish cruelty of M.C. Escher. When had they separated us, you and me, Oliver? And why did I know it, and why didn’t you? Is it your body that I want when I think of lying next to it every night or do I want to slip into it and own it as if it were my own, as I did when I put on your bathing suit and took it off again, all the while craving, as I craved nothing more in my life that afternoon, to feel you slip inside me as if my entire body were your bathing suit, your home?
—  Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman

Allison sighs in frustration.

Allison sad: Oh no. I was so certain I could help Lala. We have the same blood type! I just don’t understand!

Dr. French: Let me explain. I was curious about your being able to donate blood to Lala at all. Again, your blood is one of the rarest groups, only 1 in 1,000 people have it. Then, you tell me that both you and Lala are from the same small island. Last, I couldn’t help but notice that there is a physical resemblance between you both.

Allison: Well, most people from Sunlit Tides are the same complexion as Lala and I. Dark haired and dark eyed.

Dr. French: This is true. But I decided to have you provide a buccal swab. I know you probably weren’t aware why. But I just had this hunch. And my hunch turned out to be accurate. It turns out you and Lala are related.

Allison gasps: Related?! 

Dr. French: Yes. I had the lab do DNA *testing using the swab from your cheek. The testing indicates you and Lala are full siblings. You share fifty percent DNA according to the lab work. That means you have two parents in common. 

Allison stutters: Full siblings? What-what do you mean?

Dr. French: Sisters. You and Lala are sisters. Through both mother and father. This means your blood is too closely related to Lala’s to safely transfuse without it being irradiated first. It will take a few days but after that, we can begin transfusion and-

Dr. French continues speaking, but Allison could barely hear her.

Sisters? Lala Reyes was her sister?!!!

*genetic testing takes 3-5 days but for the sake of the story, it took an hour, lol!*

Gems from Ducktales: Master of the Djinni

The old geezers arguing like babies:

“It’s mine!” “Mine!” “Mine!” “Mine!” “Let go!” “You let go!”

“Still a cheater, eh?” “I look at it this way… why not? Eh hehehehe!”

Scrooge just narrowly avoided getting crushed under a rockslide, caused by Glomgold trying to cheat, and when Glommy goes tumbling down the mountain, Scrooge still looks worried and asks if he’s okay. Scrooge looks horrified that Glommy might have been hurt.

“You can’t keep up with me! I’m younger than you are!” “Are not.” “Are too.” “Are not.”

Sounds like they might share a birthday according to Ducktales~ As that’s one way I can see them debating about who could be older.

Again, after Glommy tried to kill him with the rockslide, when the sandstorm brews up and Scrooge spots shelter, he straight up grabs Glommy’s arm to bring him to safety too–despite knowing that if Glomgold wins, he might make his family penniless.

The fact that Scrooge and Glomgold apparently visit the same ice cream shop, and routinely meet there on accident. Also Scrooge’s li’l disappointed kick in the sand.

Also this:

And, somehow, they look good enough that the sultan suspects nothing. Can’t decide who’s wearing the mascara better tho, Scrooge or Glommy.


At the Armstrong Estate, Olivier and Miles were caring for Scar’s wounds in private. A safe choice, as Scar has yet to have his crimes erased.

Miles asked Scar to help him help Mustang rebuild Ishval’s culture.

And he accepted.

And he’s smiling.

Scar is smiling. Scar.

This is the greatest thing.

(I also appreciate Scar declining to share his real name. According to him, he’s died twice now, and he’s a brand new man.)

Down This Road-Chapter II: Release

Chapter 2 of my collab with @laineylovegirl

Prologue ~ Chapter 1

Your name: submit What is this?

Genre: Romance/Smut
Characters: Yixing x Reader
In this chapter:

After helping her new roommate move in, Y/N finds herself in more than one interesting position, especially while creating music with Yixing.

February, 2016

Dear Diary,

He was the switch that I needed to release the flood.

Making four 1-hour trips to help Sehun move was not exactly what Y/N had in mind for a fun-filled Saturday. “You know, if you had remembered to book the moving truck before they closed, we wouldn’t be struggling right now,” Y/N complained to Sehun as she passed him, hauling yet another heavy box into her car trunk.

“Oh, quit whining. You’re the one who didn’t want to have Jongin help us. He has a truck! We could fit a lot more in it than in our cars,” he replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“He’s busy, Sehun. Leave him alone. Let’s just do it ourselves.”

After an hour, the two roommates finished loading the rest of Sehun’s belongings and headed back to their shared apartment.

“Okay, according to the timer, the pizza is almost done,” Sehun said, joining Y/N in the living room.

“Sounds good!” she replied, looking through his box of records. “Sehun, where did you get all these vinyl records from?”

“My grandparents gave them to me, along with the record player. Here, let me play one for you,” he said, plugging in the vinyl system. “This is one of my favorites. It’s called I Could Make You Care by Johnny Hartman.” [

Y/N smiled at the euphonic sound of the music as Sehun extended his hand, to which she accepted. He wrapped one arm around her waist and took her hand in the other.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It is.” she agreed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck while he moved his other hand around her waist. They held each other close as they swayed to the music, gazing into each other’s eyes. He pulled her closer to him, her body fitting perfectly in his arms. Y/N found herself absorbed by the entire experience. 

He smells so good, she thought to herself. She had never been this close to Sehun, nor had she ever expected to be. Caught in the moment, they both leaned in for a kiss, but an all familiar dinging interrupted.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, pulling away from him and quickly walking to the kitchen.

Each day, Sehun tried his hardest to not develop feelings for Y/N, especially since he was living with her. He also considered that she was the ex-girlfriend of his mentor, Jongin. But as time passed, he just couldn’t help but feel something for her. She was caring towards him and she let him hog the remote when they watched T.V. together. Another thing he liked was that she allowed him to sleep in her bed on those nights when he couldn’t sleep. Those nights were the best and hardest night of his life because he was able to feel her warmth, yet he could not touch her. Although she had always cared for him as a friend, he still held out for a glimmer of hope.

“Wake up!” Sehun yelled, rapidly knocking on Y/N’s door.

“Go away, Sehun Oh! Let me sleep!” she yelled back.

“You’re in Korea, sweetheart, it’s Oh Sehun!” he replied, pausing for a second to see if she would respond. “Fine! Don’t say I didn’t try to wake you if you’re late for your meeting with Yixing!” he said before walking back into the kitchen.


The sound of his name was enough to send Y/N into wake-up mode.

She remembers meeting Yixing for the first time during auditions a few months ago. 

He was by himself in the piano room and playing the most beautiful melody she had ever heard. Not wanting to watch through the window nor disturb him in his tranquil state, she stood with her back against the wall, listening to him play. The melody was so beautiful she couldn’t help but close her eyes and daydream. His fingers seemed to work in a way that would make any woman swoon. However, the particular piece he was playing felt sad in a way.

After he stopped playing, she opened the door quietly and approached him nervously.

“Um, hi,” Y/N managed to get out.

Shocked, Yixing turned to face her.

“Do you need to use the room to practice?” he asked.

“Oh! No, no. Um, I just wanted to tell you that I think you play beautifully. I’m sorry, but I stood out there listening to you play and…” her voice trailed off at the look on Yixing’s face.
It was as if he was studying her features and it made her cheeks turn a slight pink.

After noticing that she had stopped speaking, he blurted out, “Thank you!” with a slight chuckle.

“I’m sorry for staring, but you are absolutely beautiful,” he said boldly.

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts and climbed out of bed. She made her way to the bathroom to quickly shower and get dressed. Grabbing her car keys and messenger bag, she passed Sehun on her way out the front door and waved goodbye. “See you later, Roomie!” Excitement coursed through her body at the thought of seeing Yixing again.

Yixing, for the most part, was the private type, and always kept a distance from his friend’s drama issues. He enjoyed observing people and found inspiration in the smallest things. His friends would describe him as confident and pretty straightforward, but a lone wolf; however, only one person had the power to bring down his defenses and make him tongue-tied with her mere presence.


Walking down the hall to find Room 1B, Y/N could hear the sound of music getting closer, which meant that Yixing was already hard at work. She enjoyed spending time with Yixing and looked forward to seeing him each time she was in the SM building.

As she entered the room, Yixing quickly stopped, walked over to give her a welcoming hug, and guided her towards the piano. He motioned for her to take a seat next to him and began playing. No words were exchanged, just feelings that were brought on by the rhythm.

After a short time, the silence was broken by Yixing. “I bet you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me here.”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to work on a collaboration together. I’ve heard you sing, and I think we could come up with some really great material for the company.”

Y/N’s face lit up.

“I would love that so much!” she replied enthusiastically.

Immediately she began brainstorming for lyrics, while Yixing started on the melody.

As she wrote down some words, she glanced up at Yixing. She couldn’t help but notice how he was one with the piano and the music. He looked so strong and handsome as he created a tune, and his devotion to the composition made her smile.

“I’m glad you agreed to do this with me,” Yixing said, turning to Y/N. “May-Maybe we can work together again in the future,” he said shyly, turning back to look at the piano keys. He looked up as Y/N walked over to sit next to him and she nodded a silent yes while looking at him.

In that moment, she found herself getting lost in his dark, handsome features. That chiseled face that was home to his brown almond eyes and slender nose. His parted hair falling freely on his forehead and his lips - oh, his lips - she thought.

Before she was able to withdraw her active mind, his hands were cradling her face as he gently kissed her soft, pink lips. She kissed him back and squeezed his forearms as he intensified the kiss, parting her lips with his and sending foreign sensations throughout her body.

Y/N gripped Yixing’s shirt, bringing him closer to her. He allowed his hands to explore her body, going over her curves and drinking her in, before pulling her on top of him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, placing kisses on her neck and down her collarbone.

“Don’t you dare,” she replied, enjoying his praises.

At her command, he unbuttoned her blouse, tossing it over the piano, and circled around to undo her bra, letting it slide off her body. He was captivated by her perky breasts and cupped them before taking one by one in his mouth and worshiping them. Moaning, she arched her back, giving him better access, and ran her fingers through his hair to keep her balance.

“You are so incredibly sexy,” he said, scanning her body with lustful eyes.

With a smirk, she helped him remove his shirt and moved her hands up and down his muscular torso, feeling his heart race before her half-naked body. Her hands made their way up his neck and towards the back of his head as she pulled him in for a deep kiss. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths, while their bodies begged for further contact.

As Y/N rocked her hips back and forth on Yixing’s lap, she could feel his growing bulge throb under her moist core as if pleading to be unleashed. Instinctively, he reached down to undo his pants and lowered them, while she moved back and slipped off her shorts and panties cautiously, as if to not disturb the pleasurable formation that they had created.

“Wow!” she said as she placed her hand on his thick shaft, stroking it gently and teasingly, making him tremble at the sudden touch. For a split second, he lost himself in how incredible her soft hand felt on his hungry dick.

“Y/N… please,” he begged. “I need to be inside you, baby.”

Still stroking him and one hand on his shoulder, Y/N positioned herself just above his member and slowly lowered herself onto him. Gasps escaped their mouths as he filled her up. Once she was adjusted, he clenched his teeth and raised his hips to thrust into her in retaliation for teasing him earlier.

“Oh my god, Yixing!” she squealed wrapping her arms around his neck as he grinned. He squeezed her butt cheeks and guided her as she rode his cock.

“Oh, baby, you feel incredible. Oh yes, just like that, Y/N,” he groaned as she quickened her pace. He ran his hands all over her body, wanting to consume every bit of her. He wanted to lick her, to taste her, to make her scream his name, but for now he was satisfied with having her straddling him. Besides, he enjoyed watching her tits bounce before his eyes and the way she closed her eyes and tilted her head back in ecstasy.

Y/N pressed her body close to his, inhaling the smell of his cologne and shampoo as they moved in perfect rhythm. She moaned in his ear, encouraging Yixing to intensify his thrusts.

“You feel… so amazing,” she panted.

With her arms wrapped firmly around Yixing’s neck, she arched her back as a sweet culmination ran throughout her body. Her walls clenched around him sending him into a frenzy of sensations as he plunged into her one last time before reaching his high.

She collapsed into his neck and he held her tightly in his arms as they both regulated their breathing; relishing in the passion of their impulsive experience.

The room was quiet as Y/N and Yixing worked on their song. She stood from her seat and approached Yixing at the piano.

“Just so you know, I don’t usually do things like that,” she said with a small nervous laugh.

“Me neither,” he replied, placing a hand on hers. “Don’t look so worried about it. It was amazing.” He grinned.

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to cover up her shy smile. “Let’s continue on the song.” She suggested, and Yixing nodded in agreement.

A few hours later, Y/N received a text message from Sehun.

My back hurts from moving all these boxes… by myself. You owe me a massage. ;) Oh and some guy named Kyungsoo is here to see you. What do I tell him?

She suddenly felt an ache in her chest at the sight of Sehun’s name on her phone.

Sorry. Be there soon, she replied.

Explaining the situation to Yixing, Y/N left the music sheet on the piano bench next to him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before walking out of the room to meet with Kyungsoo.

Yixing looked down at the music sheet and began to read.

I can’t understand
How one person can change the world,
Suddenly, I’m spinning,
I don’t walk, I only float,
My head is lost in the clouds,
You surround me,
I can’t get away from you.

Thank you for reading! We would love your feedback!

The list is in the notes

I don’t understand antis reblogging ace positivity posts. Like just ignore it, it isn’t meant for you. Don’t go through that tag. Yikes

(this is because i made a happy ave day post and someone called it bait, and someone else was all “can’t believe i had to look at this with my own two eyes… But they reblogged and spread it… And put it on theor own blogs… Why?)

If anyone wants a list of the shits who can’t leave an innocent positivity post alone, I’ll gladly give it out. Cause I’m fucking pissed at this stage.