Art is not a thing; it is a way. ~Elbert Hubbard

Art person, LYB, HXH, SW, STXI, XMFC, MCU. Teenwoof, Elementary, Lucy Liu, sports anime

[shanqiuuuu]

何处归去

[thoughtfulfuri]

[molotovblogtail]

Hey dont cry. Grab some sticky notes and make yourself a bouquet of flowers.

[risarodil]

Couldn’t let Pride Month slip by without sharing some colorful art 🌈

[loracarol]

I know for a fact that my stepmother loves me.

I know it for a fact because the vaccine for the sleeping sickness came out when I was ten, and she cried. When she was a kid, parents would have Sleep Overs whenever someone caught it, in the hopes of spread it around - children were statistically more likely to be woken up by "True Love's Kiss" from a parent or family member, after all, whereas if you caught it when you were older, things got more complicated and if you were old, you might be the last one in your family left.

(There’s more to it than that, I know, I've tried reading the papers, but I barely passed biocurse with a C+, and don't even get me started on organic curses. Those two classes were enough to kill any hope I had of becoming a fairy godperson.)

So, when the vaccine against the sleeping sickness came out, my stepmother cried, and my father got me on the list right away; I wasn't high priority, after all; I was young, there wasn't an active outbreak in my school district, and I was otherwise healthy. But they put me on the backup list anyway, so if there was one, just one available, I could get it.

When the fairy godperson's office called, my dad was at work, but my stepmother bundled me up and drove there so fast I thought we were going to be pulled over. (Later, I found out that she'd gotten an automated ticket from one of the red light cameras, a fact that she hid from both me and my dad.) They called my dad, of course, and he left work, but he also gave the okay for my stepmother to be my medical proxy in case he was delayed.

Vaccines don't last forever, and it was decided that I would be given it without him there. At 100 minutes, my stepmother would try kissing my forehead, and if it didn't work, the office would set me up for the 100 hours it would take before my dad could try.

Magic can't be ignored, but it can be tricked.

It didn't matter. At 100 minutes post-vaccine, my stepmother kissed my forehead and I woke up.

So. I know she loves me.

My mom would have been there, if she could, but she died when I was five. She'd gotten Rapunzelean cancer in high school, but she'd beaten it! She was one of the successes!

...Until it came back.

I don't remember much about her, but I remember that she loved me. Even as the golden tumors grew from her bare scalp and sucked the life out of her, she would sing to me, and she wrote me a series of letters for me as I grew up, just in case.

My stepmother took me to her grave sometimes. My dad does too, but it's nice that my stepmother is willing, you know? I had a breakdown one year when I couldn't find my mom's favorite flowers to take to her burial site, and my stepmom drove me all over town until we found one store that had them in the right color. (My dad was at the fairy godperson's office to get some pre-wards before we went to the cemetery. I found out later that his father had caught a curse shortly after my grandmother passed away, specifically geriatric onset donkeyskin, and my father was paranoid of following in his footsteps.)

My dad and my stepmom shuffled their shifts, so that one of them was with me in the morning before school, and one of them was there after, and then both were home for dinner. When I told them I wanted to study to be a fairy godperson, they took me seriously, even though I had wanted to be a pilot and a vet, and and a lawyer and and and - they always supported me, and soon I was being gifted books on the history of magicomedicine and cursebreaking. Some of them gave me nightmares - siren's disease freaked me out for a long time; something about the tongue swelling so much you would suffocate, and the agonizing images of ancient "cures" where the victim had to get their tongue cut out so they could breathe. I don't even know why! There were much worse ones! But something about that was so visceral to me. For the next month, any time my feet hurt even a little was convinced I was coming down with siren's disease.

I worried my parent's so much that they took me to Fairy Elena, my PCFP, and asked if she would be willing to go over how siren's is treated now. She gave me a quick rundown on intubation, pain medication, and told me about Prince's Blood Donations.

It was the first time I learned that magic can be tricked; according to legend, siren's disease could be cured by killing someone's true love and smearing their blood over the patient's legs. At least, that was one line of thought; another line of thought argued that it had to be the blood of royalty. Some fairy godpersons and magicoresearchers got together in the '80s and decided to research it methodically, going through every known case of siren's disease & what worked and what didn't. It turned out royalty was the key, but then it became a question of ethics. I didn't care too much at the time, that was all boring, grown-up stuff, but finally one researcher decided to just make a blood bank company, call it Prince's and see if that worked.    

And it did.

Magic can be tricked, and my mind was blown.

I also asked my dad if we could put that book away for a little, because it was too scary. He agreed, and we put it on the top shelf, where all the scary books went. I reread it recently, and honestly? I don't remember what I was so afraid of.

Things started changing when I turned 16.

For one, my hair, which had always been brown, started darkening to black. For another, I stopped being able to tan. It was like a light switch went off; magic was determined to turn me into something, and I hated it. My PCFP really went to bat for me, getting insurance to cover the cost of cosmetic glamours and professional tanning sprays. She wanted me to tell my parents, but I didn't want to, not yet, and she was bound by her oath to protect my privacy.   

She was right. But... I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to pretend everything was fine.

I didn't want to lose another mom.

And it worked for a while; managed to get to my senior year of high school before the world broke.

Stepmothers don't have the best reputation.

It fucking sucks, and it's not fair, but enough stories have been told about them that magic took an interest, and began manifesting curses that warp stepmothers until they follow the story.

We thought we were safe. My stepmother didn't bring any children into the marriage, so she was safe from the ash-girl curse variant, and I was a tanned brunette, so we were safe from the snow-daughter variant.

And she loved me.

She hid it too, I think. Not intentionally, but some of the symptoms are paranoia and anxiety.

I've done a lot of research. I don't think I'll ever be able to be a fairy godperson, but that doesn't mean I had to stop caring. I swapped my focus to researching curses from the history and literature side of things. I still work with researchers, we just come from different angles now.

Anyway, no one realized anything was wrong until she was french braiding my hair and the next thing I knew, she had locked herself in the bathroom sobbing while EMTs took me to the hospital for overnight observation. I don't actually know what happened. She turned herself over to the cops as soon I was loaded onto the ambulance, and she was taken to a hospital herself. She was sedated at first, as she was so wound up that she was hurting herself, and the hospital couldn't scan her for curses. Once she came out of sedation, she immediately called my dad and offered a divorce, he could take everything, she would leave immediately.

But we'd gotten the results of the scans, and I was fine. As best that the fairy godperson's could tell, the magic was frustrated that we didn't want to go down the snow-daughter route, and had lashed out in an attempt to force it. That was apparently what knocked me unconscious; magic poisoned the comb my stepmother was using in my hair.

That didn't mean she didn't feel guilty - but so did I. If I had told them earlier, would things have changed? If I hadn't tried to hide the signs that magic was fucking with us?

They don't blame me, and I don't blame her.  

She loves me. I know she does. We still talk, as best as we can. She can only hear my voice for ten minutes before the curse starts taking over. We can email, though, as long as the orderlies can prescreen the email for any curse triggers. She also can't hear about me directly, but my dad will go and visit her, and tell me how she's doing. He refused to divorce her. His insurance still covers her hospital stay. He says he's married, and wears his ring.

When I applied to college, I wrote about all three of my parents, and how much they had all taught me.

How much they all loved me.

Someday, my stepmother will get her curse lifted, I have to believe that. I've joined a multidisciplinary group of researchers based in the EU. Some of us are looking at ways to trick magic, some of us are looking at ways to rewrite the stories of the wicked stepmothers, and create a new path for the magic to follow. One group of researchers is looking into ways of simulating the punishments that stepmothers receive at the end of tales to see if "punishing" stepmothers would break the curse. Actually going through the punishments would cause any ethical review board to remove someone's license, and there's no way I would want my stepmom to dance in red hot metal shoes.

But lately she's been getting hot stone foot massages before I call her; that's how we got to ten minutes before the curse took hold, and next week we're going to see if holding her feet in a hot bath lets us video call. Maybe someday we'll be able to see each other in person again. Maybe I'll be able to take her home where dad and I can cook dinner for her, and we can be a family again. My family has an apple pie recipe, and we never made it - I understand why, now, but maybe someday we can laugh at this and all make it together. To make your own apple pie, you'll need...

[starryeyedwolves]

On Purpose

The worst part about living with chronic pain, Remus thought as he tried not to scream at a piece of lint on the carpet, wasn’t the pain.

It was the being perceived.

And right now, he was being perceived by a very beautiful, very loud, very not supposed to be here Sirius Black.

“You didn’t answer your texts,” Sirius said, standing in the doorway like a rockstar who’d stumbled into the wrong green room but stayed because there was free champagne. His motorcycle helmet hung from one tattooed hand, black curls wild and a bit sweaty.

“That tends to happen when I throw my phone under the couch out of spite,” Remus said, not looking up from where he was half-folded on the floor, an arm brace beside him and a heating pad nowhere near the socket.

Sirius blinked. “Do I want to know?”

Remus squinted up at him. “My shoulder tried to secede from the union. I decided to pretend the couch was Switzerland.”

Sirius grinned. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m disabled, actually,” Remus snapped, immediately regretting it. But Sirius just raised an eyebrow, unbothered.

“I know,” Sirius said softly. “You also didn’t answer my texts for four days. So I assumed either death, abduction, or, more realistically, a spiral of Netflix and apathy.”

Remus grimaced. “It was a mild spiral.”

“You watched five seasons of Hell’s Kitchen, Remus.”

“…I stand by that.”

Sirius crossed the room, tossing his helmet onto Remus’ ancient armchair. “Get up. We’re making pasta.”

“I can’t get up, hence…” Remus gestured vaguely at the brace, the heating pad, the general aura of despair.

Sirius knelt beside him without a word, scooping up the brace with practiced hands. “Do you want help?”

Remus hesitated. The line between “want” and “need” had always been blurry. But Sirius never made him feel like a burden—just a very sarcastic houseplant with medical accessories.

“Yes,” he muttered.

Sirius nodded and helped him up with the kind of gentle ease that made Remus feel seen, not exposed. “I brought garlic bread,” he said as they shuffled toward the kitchen. “And James.”

Remus froze. “What?”

“James is in the car. He insisted. He has theories.”

“About my pain?”

“About why you ghosted me for four days,” Sirius said cheerfully. “One involves aliens.”

Remus sighed. “James Potter is a human migraine.”

“And yet, you adore him,” Sirius said, smirking as he slid the brace into place with a practiced twist.

Remus didn’t say it out loud, but Sirius wasn’t wrong.

The kitchen was small, dimly lit, and currently filled with the scent of garlic, basil, and tomato.

James had let himself in and was setting up a Bluetooth speaker like he lived there. Which, to be fair, he nearly had during uni. Peter was texting in the corner with a cat on his lap—Remus’ cat, who betrayed him instantly and fully the moment food arrived.

“I’ve solved your mystery,” James announced, holding up his phone. “Remus hasn’t been abducted. He’s just deeply, tragically in love with you, Padfoot.”

Peter didn’t look up. “We knew that in 2018, mate.”

“Shut up,” Remus groaned, already regretting not faking a coma.

Sirius beamed. “I knew I felt eyes on my ass.”

Remus gave him a look. “That was the cat.”

“You named the cat Virginia Woolf. You don’t get to talk.”

Virginia purred smugly.

They cooked like idiots. Burnt one batch of garlic bread, turned the pasta water into a volcano, and used enough parmesan to offend an entire Italian village. But Sirius was relaxed, sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking from under flour-dusted skin, talking to Remus like they hadn’t been orbiting each other for years.

Like he knew.

And maybe he did.

Remus leaned against the counter, shoulder aching but tolerable now. “You didn’t have to come over.”

Sirius didn’t glance up. “You didn’t have to answer the phone either, but here we are.”

“I mean it. You don’t have to—”

“Moony.” Sirius looked up. “Stop. I wanted to. And I’ll keep showing up, even when you don’t ask.”

Remus swallowed.

There it was again.

Being perceived.

But this time, it wasn’t unbearable.

It was Sirius, seeing him with all his broken pieces, and not flinching.

That night, after everyone left and the dishes were mostly done and Remus was curled up on the couch with Virginia on his chest, Sirius hovered by the door.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Define ‘okay,’” Remus replied.

Sirius gave him a look.

“I’m better now,” Remus added. “Less pain. Less… apocalypse.”

Sirius hesitated. “I could stay. If you want.”

Remus blinked. “Like… stay?”

“Not in a weird way,” Sirius said quickly. “Just… hang out. Watch something awful. Make sure you don’t throw your phone into another abyss.”

Remus considered it.

Then patted the couch beside him.

Sirius grinned and dropped his bag, slipping off his boots. He settled beside Remus carefully, their shoulders brushing.

Virginia stretched dramatically between them.

“I’m not good at this,” Remus murmured after a while.

“At what?”

“Letting people in. Asking for help.”

Sirius didn’t look away from the screen. “Good thing I already broke in.”

Remus laughed, quietly.

They sat there for a long time, the flicker of some terrible sitcom lighting their faces, silence easy between them.

And for once, being seen didn’t feel like a burden.

Sirius had never been good at sitting still. He liked movement—liked the hum of an engine under him, the buzz of a crowd, the rhythm of his own restlessness.

But right now, pressed shoulder to shoulder with Remus on a secondhand couch that smelled like lavender he didn’t want to move at all.

Remus’ hair was mussed. Virginia was purring on his chest like a tiny engine. And something in the air felt raw and good and a little dangerous.

Because Sirius had seen Remus Lupin vulnerable before—post-surgery, post-breakup, post-epic-migraine-that-laid-him-out-for-three-days.

But this was different.

This was soft.

Unarmored.

And Sirius was not okay about it.

He watched as Remus drifted—eyelids half-shut, pain visible only in the way his hand twitched occasionally near his brace. He always tried so damn hard not to let people see. Like it was a moral failing, being in pain. Being tired.

Sirius wanted to punch every person that had ever made him feel that way.

“Still awake?” Remus murmured, eyes fluttering open, voice low and rasped.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Too wired. Adrenaline. Garlic bread. Cat.”

Remus’ mouth quirked. “She did try to smother you earlier. Consider it a warning.”

“I’d die a noble death,” Sirius replied solemnly, scratching behind Virginia’s ear. “Tell my story.”

“Here lies Sirius Black. Mauled by an overeducated feline while pining pathetically for a sarcastic literature professor with chronic joint issues.”

“Catchy.”

Remus blinked slowly, his smile turning softer. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I want to stay,” Sirius said immediately.

He could tell Remus was gearing up to argue, so he cut him off with the quiet truth.

“I like being around you, Moony. Even when you’re cranky and sore and smell faintly of eucalyptus oil. You’re still you. That’s the bit I like.”

Remus looked at him, then. Really looked.

Not a glance.

A seeing.

And Sirius let him. Let himself be perceived too, for once—tired, anxious, hungry for something he hadn’t named out loud yet.

Remus’ voice, when it came, was quiet. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I’m not broken.”

Sirius’ throat closed.

He leaned forward, carefully, slowly—just enough for their foreheads to touch, not quite a kiss, not quite platonic either.

“You’re not broken, Remus,” he whispered. “You’re just real.”

Remus closed his eyes. And for a moment, everything felt very still.

Later, they ended up horizontal. Not in the fun, R-rated way Sirius would usually be hoping for—but wrapped under a threadbare blanket, Virginia curled at their feet, some absolute garbage show droning in the background.

Sirius couldn’t sleep.

His mind kept running.

Not about the usual—his job, his family, the existential dread of aging—but about how peaceful Remus looked when the pain eased. About the fact that he had shown up, and Remus had let him in.

And Sirius wanted that. Wanted in. For real.

Not just the “occasional pasta and banter” level. The hard stuff too.

The days when Remus couldn’t get out of bed. The weeks when the pain flared and he shut everyone out. The dark spirals he never quite admitted to.

Sirius wanted in on all of it.

Which was terrifying.

Because Sirius didn’t do long-term. He was chaos, and people liked him in small doses. Fun, funny, charming Sirius. Not the version that stayed up at 3 a.m. reading disability blogs so he’d stop asking stupid questions. Not the version that wondered if he could find a heating pad that didn’t suck.

But Remus made him want to be better.

Not different.

Just better.

“Hey,” he whispered in the dark. “You awake?”

Remus shifted slightly. “Mmhmm.”

“I like you,” Sirius blurted. “Like… a lot.”

Remus huffed a quiet laugh. “Is this your idea of a seduction? Because it’s very NPR at midnight.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s why it’s terrifying.”

Sirius turned to face him. “What if we tried it?”

“Tried what?”

“This. You. Me. Us.”

Remus was quiet for a long beat.

Then: “You sure? I’m… a lot.”

“So am I.”

“Yeah, but you come with leather jackets and Instagram thirst traps. I come with joint instability and a pharmacy in my kitchen.”

Sirius leaned in, eyes soft. “Then we’ll make room for both.”

Remus looked at him like no one ever had—like he wanted to believe it, like he almost did.

“Okay,” he whispered.

And Sirius smiled.

Because for the first time in a long time, the world wasn’t ending.

It was just beginning.

There were good days.

Days where Remus made it through an entire morning lecture without having to pop a shoulder back into place like a goddamn haunted action figure. Days when his joints played nice, his head stayed clear, and he didn’t have to put on the smiling “No really, I’m fine” mask he usually wore around students.

Today was not one of those days.

Today was the kind of day where just breathing felt like a chore. Where the soft ache in his back had graduated into a sharp throb that made putting on socks feel like an Olympic event. Where his knee had decided to dislocate while he was brushing his teeth, and he ended up sitting on the bathroom floor with a mouth full of toothpaste and a deep, dull resentment of gravity.

He hadn’t texted Sirius.

Not yet.

Not because he didn’t want to—but because he did.

Because Sirius had that look when Remus was hurting. The one that said he wanted to fix everything and couldn’t. And Remus hated being the problem someone couldn’t solve.

So he stayed on the couch, curled up like a comma, watching reruns of Taskmaster with the volume low and Virginia sleeping traitorously on his bad hip.

The front door clicked.

He’d forgotten Sirius had a key.

“Moons?” came the soft voice, a little muffled, like Sirius had a grocery bag in his mouth.

Remus didn’t answer.

Sirius appeared in the doorway, wearing joggers, an oversized hoodie, and the worried expression that came standard whenever Remus was quiet for too long.

“I brought oranges. And those crisps you like that taste like regret and vinegar.”

Remus made a noise that might’ve been a laugh. Might’ve been a sigh.

Sirius set the bag down and crossed the room without ceremony. “Where are we at, pain-wise?”

“Seven,” Remus said. “Maybe an eight if I sneeze.”

“Mobility?”

“On strike.”

Sirius nodded. “Right then. Cuddle triage.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

“Tri-age, Remus. Three stages of care.” Sirius held up a finger. “Stage one: reposition the invalid.”

“I will smother you with this cat.”

Sirius ignored him, sliding onto the couch and gently shifting Remus’ legs across his lap. His hands moved with practiced care, adjusting the throw pillow, rubbing a thumb behind Remus’ knee.

“Stage two,” Sirius said, “is soup. Which I did not bring, because you hate canned soup, and I cannot cook soup. I did, however, bring crisps and those stupid gummy peaches that rot your teeth.”

Remus softened despite himself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And stage three…” Sirius leaned down, kissed the top of Remus’ head, just above his temple. “...is the most important. Which is reminding you that you don’t have to hide on days like this.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Remus lied, immediately and unconvincingly.

“Right. You were doing highly visible floor yoga with a dislocated knee and depression snacks.”

Remus chuckled, quietly. His body still hurt, but it was different with Sirius here. The pain didn’t shrink, but it didn’t swallow him whole either.

“Do you regret this?” he asked suddenly, the words escaping before he could filter them. “Being with me. Like this.”

Sirius didn’t answer right away.

He just took Remus’ hand, running his thumb over the knuckles—gentle, reverent.

“I chose this,” Sirius said finally, voice soft but steady. “Every part of it. I want the good days and the crap ones and the days when you can’t move, and the days you make fun of my Spotify playlists.”

“They’re criminal, Sirius. You have Limp Bizkit and Phoebe Bridgers on the same playlist.”

“Eclectic taste, baby.”

Remus smiled. Tired. Honest.

“Do you remember,” Sirius continued, “that day in March when you couldn’t leave bed, and you let me sit with you for like, six hours while we watched Great British Bake Off and bullied Paul Hollywood?”

“Yes.”

“That was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

Remus blinked at him.

“I’m not with you despite the hard days,” Sirius said, leaning down again. “I’m with you through them. On purpose.”

There it was again.

Being seen.

Being chosen.

And this time, Remus let himself believe it.

That night, Sirius cooked pasta while Remus supervised from the couch like a very opinionated monarch. They ate curled up under a shared blanket, Virginia curled between them, the room filled with the smell of garlic and the quiet sounds of two people who had finally, finally stopped running.

When Sirius dozed off, Remus watched him sleep.

He thought: I never thought I’d get this.

He thought: I want this forever.

And he didn’t feel broken at all.

He felt loved.

He felt home.

[circleskirtfeminine]

I want to try so many little hobbies. Candle making, soap making, basket weaving, wood carving, book binding, baking, weaving, I want to try them all.

[thatscavlife]

I almost made a post about this the other day (unless i actually did and totally forgot) but there’s so many

I was going to make a list, but then i realized this is a good time to share this book

Making Stuff and Doing things is a whole collection of old punk DIY zines about making and doing just about anything, even things you probably never knew you wanted to do.

Book binding? In there.

Making bowls from old vinyl records? I made a whole ton for my brother’s grad party last year.

Basics of guitar? Making rubber stamps? Silk screening? Composting? Homemade beer, root beer, and wine? Soymilk?? Quill pens??? All in there.

Since it’s more punk, it doesn’t have a ton of the folksy, cottage vibes/hobbies, but it’s all about being resourceful and sustainable, which they both have in common.

If i ever need to do anything I’m not sure of, I double check this book to see if there’s anything in there. It’s one of the only books on diy I’ve ever needed.

[selfportrait27]

Making Stuff & Doing Things (2016) : Kyle Bravo : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

Handbook of basic life skills for a young punk or activist, or anyone without a lot of money.Following some of the advice in this book could

You can download the entire book as a PDF in the link above.

[whitepeopletwitter]

[commandtower-solring-go]

There are a lot of really dog shit things in the world of tech that can be solved with a bit of time, some stubborn googling and maybe some special hardware and piracy is only the tip of the iceberg. 

Printers are notorious for claiming they’re out of ink when they haven’t come close to the suggested number of prints, and their cartridges literally still have ink in them. So after a bit of googling I found out how to ‘reset’ a cartridges automatic stopping system (its literally 1 physical wheel on the cartridge that you gotta turn back). The only downside is that I don’t get a digital ink monitor, but since it told me it was empty when still half full, I don’t mind. 

Like, you can just jiggle with some shit and solve one of the biggest money making scams in the post-industrial world and I don’t think people realise its that easy. 

Or, like, repairing your own technology. A few months ago, I swapped out my sister’s laptop screen. Did it myself, I removed maybe 4 screws, no vital parts were exposed and it cost me $40. I even got a choice of matte or glossy. 

My point is, any walls that capitalist technology presents you with will be a false one. And one already broken by a dedicated community of interesting people working hard for free to break down that wall.

[buckskinblues]

kids these days will be all “be gay do crime” and dont even know how to watch a cartoon without paying for it smh

[thedreadvampy]

IN FAIRNESS

piracy was definitely leagues easier a decade or so ago when thepiratebay was functional, megaupload was still running, and YouTube and Google made only the most cursory attempts to block copyright content. like let’s not pretend that the internet hasn’t got a lot more corporatised in the past decade or so. piracy is still possible and you can and should do it but it’s a LOT harder to do safely and reliably than it was.

[thebroccoligoblin]

^thank u

[theoutcastrogue]

Sorry, this is all wrong.

1) ThePirateBay is still functional. (It’s not the same pirate bay that it was back in the day, but let’s not get into Theseus’ ship territory. It’s still here and it still works, that’s all that matters.) There are plenty of torrent sites around, more than there were 10 years ago – although overall traffic has plummeted. Now as then, it’s a whack-a-mole game.

2) Why was it “leagues easier” a decade ago? Some countries, not all (not north America, for example), now mandate ISP blocking of torrent sites, but this new complication can be bypassed with one (1) step: a google duckduckgo search for proxies. No government agency or ISP can possibly keep up with proxies, it’s yet another whack-a-mole game. So yes, it was technically easier before, but I don’t see “leagues” anywhere.

3) It was safer before? Are you shitting me? Have you lot forgotten that the legal departments of MPAA and RIAA sued torrent sharers (not even uploaders) and asked for millions of dollars for damages? AND GOT THEM? (By which I mean they didn’t actually get millions since the people they sued didn’t have any, but said people were convicted and ruined and that was the goal in the first place. It was a deeply amoral and cynical scare tactic.) Well they stopped doing that at some point, and focused on hunting P2P and torrent sites. Running a site is certainly less safe today. Using one, though? Depending on where you are, the ISP may be allowed to block you after repeated instances, and that’s it. You’re not getting in trouble with the law or into crippling debt. And either way there’s only a minuscule chance that any of this will come to pass, which becomes zero (0) with a VPN. (Safety of course depends on the country, and in some cases piracy is the least of your concerns. Let’s not get into that.)

4) Ten years ago there was no Sci-Hub, and Library Genesis was in its infancy. If today it’s harder to find PDFs on google, it is orders of magnitude easier and more reliable to find them elsewhere. People just have to unstick their minds from the notion that stuff is either on google or doesn’t exist at all. Geez.

5) P2P still exists. IRC (the sharing channels in particular, #bookz and the like) still exists. Torrenting functions like it always did. All these methods are exactly as easy to use as before, i.e. not necessarily a piece of cake, there’s a learning curve. But it’s the same learning curve it was 10 years ago.

6) So what have we lost? Only YouTube (meh, the film/tv quality was appalling anyway, and music is still there) and direct downloads (at least the permanent ones: there are plenty of them still around, but files expire and you need to keep track of what goes up when. So this goes beyond knowhow, it’s about internet communities. Let’s not get into that either, it’s a huge subject.) It’s a loss, sure, but I wouldn’t call it a terrible blow.

7) And in exchange for that loss, we got streaming sites. This is piracy, too, and it’s much much easier than torrents, and tons of people do it. Any “piracy has declined” narrative either implies that we’re excluding streaming from the discussion for some reason, or is flat out wrong. Ten years ago, grandpa couldn’t possibly torrent a film, and it’s debatable if he even knew how to open the file you helpfully sent him. Now, as long as someone has set up kodi or similar, grandpa can watch it on his tv and it just feels like cable.

8) On why torrents in particular have declined in recent years, see here. It’s a big subject and I didn’t cover all of it, but the main reason is that people had access to easier methods to get what they wanted (some legal and affordable, some illegal and free), so they didn’t need to learn how to torrent. Ergo, they never did. There’s more of course, and there’s definitely a cultural shift too, but that’s a very long story so let’s not get into it. The linked post also includes some thoughts on why torrents aren’t dead and doomed just yet, and ooh, I forgot a very important one: you can’t stream photoshop.

To summarise, internet piracy is NOT more difficult, unreliable, and unsafe today than it was 10 or 20 years ago. For reasons why people (young or otherwise) seem less versed in it, please look elsewhere. I have thoughts on that too, but this is already a very long post, so I’ll just leave you with the best kind of thought. I’ll leave you with a doubt:

ARE people less versed in piracy? Are they really? Or is it simply that 20 years ago, internet users were computer geeks by definition, whereas now everyone’s online? Perhaps the percentage of skilled pirates in the general population remains more or less the same, and the only thing that’s dropped is the percentage of skilled pirates to total internet users. I can’t be sure without statistical evidence, but it’s a possibility.

[pulchrabelle]

You can literally google “watch _____ free online” and find most movies but the third result just download Adblock or popup blocker and you’re golden it truly couldn’t be easier

[chickenmcnuggies]

I’ve been meaning to make a piracy masterpost for awhile and what better time than now?

Materpost: A curated Githup tutorial of links to more torrent sites, software, VPNs, uBlock origin filters, ect. Basically everything you could ever want starting out. Do be warned though it doesn’t appear to have been updated in awhile so a few of the links are dead.

GAMES:

Vimm’s Roms: NES era->ps3 era roms and emulators to play them. Has user ratings on games. Cons: slow download speeds.

NxBrew: Switch roms/game updates/dlc

nsw2u: More switch roms. Check here if nxbrew doesn’t have the game you’re looking for.

Hshop: 3ds games/updates/dlc. Very well organized and sorted by console region. Bonus ability to generate QR codes to scan with homebrew to begin download directly on your console.

Oldgamesdownload: Old 90’s-2000’s PC games and some gamecube games. Technically, all of the games here are abandon ware, meaning the original company/creator doesn’t sell nor make money from the games anymore period. If you’re into that.

Fitgirl repacks: Heavily compressed PC games, and other various consoles. Small downloads and faster speeds for the size of the games. Somewhat limited game selection.

Steam unlocked: Steam games with easy-to-use installers. Check here if fitgirl doesn’t have what you’re looking for.

Steam Underground: A user forum for piracy support, usually about installing cracked games. Does have some scattered PC game downloads.

Google doc of Skyrim SE creation club content.

Amiibo life: Amiibo bins, can be loaded with some homebrew to load in games without any external source, or, if you buy writable NFC cards, you can make your own free amiibos.

Books:

Library Genesis: a good all-in-one ebook finder. Has books, magazines, scientific papers, ect. Well organized and able to sort by Author, Genre, ect ect. Almost all books in .epub format

Calibre: Not piracy but a free software for reading said .epub files, and other ebook formats. Good for sorting your books.

Sci-Hub: Research papers, academic books, pdfs, ect. Helpful for collage students.

IT ebook: eBooks about learning programming languages.

audiobookbay: Audiobook downloads.

Booksonic: Audiobook streaming.

5e.tools: Dnd player’s manual, guide, ect.

Books on learning various languages.

Mangadex: Manga, Doujinshi.      

Headspace sleep audio.

Various books and manuals.

Streaming:

ustvgo: Free streaming of live tv, has most US cable tv channels.

tutturu: Spiritual successor to Rabbit, allows you to stream your screen with friends.

Yes movies: Movies

Kimcartoon: Cartoons/animated movies

aniwatcher: Anime

animedao: Anime

Computer software:

getintopc: Wide selection of pc (mostly windows) software of all sorts, and different versions. Can personally vouch for the site, I’ve gotten Photoshop, Maya, and Sony Vegas from here over the years.

Other:

the eye: An archive of old roms, OS systems, roms (non nintendo), comics, books, ect, ect. Cons: No search function and slightly hard to navigate.

1337x.to: Torrent site for movies, shows, games, comics, ect.

ThePirateBay: The classic.

Recorded broadway musicals. Verying quality.

[unyanizedcatboys]

Finally someone actually posted links instead of just bitching or saying “it’s easy”

[zoanzon]

Ok just want to plug the eye a bit more considering I lost a few hours in their yesterday.

the eye has been up since 2017 and in the last four years have accumulated 140TB of data (according to their own reports). Part of their growth is just their own work, part of it is absorbing other archives/open directories that were having issues: I know rpg.rem.uz used to be its own archive - gave way to The Trove, which is having its own issues right now unfortunately… - but now most-all of their content can also just be found on the eye. Same with a few dozen other archives.

And they have ‘old roms, OS systems, roms (non nintendo), comics, books, ect, ect’, but massively more than you might think just based off how this sounds. Like…

They have it all.

If you want to try and homebrew alcohol, go check their stuff. If you want to try and read books that are out of print or otherwise in public domain (and some that aren’t yet in public domain), go check their stuff. If you want to run a campaign and can’t pay for expensive print tabletop books, go check their stuff. If you want to fuck off into the woods to live off the land (or research how that would work for a writing project), go check their stuff. If you’re trying to learn shit about drugs - any drugs, almost - go check their stuff.

Hell, if you want to go read what looks like literally every research paper on coronaviruses from 1968 up to Feb 2020, you can do that too!

As chickenmcnuggies said its a mess and a half to navigate through their collections, partially with how large it is and the fact quite a few folders were once whole other archives since absorbed by the eye…

But goddamn you can lose an afternoon just going through all the stuff they have.

[bigbadowlet]

The subreddit r/freemediaheckyeah is a great resource and their index: https://fmhy.net/ has A LOT of stuff with a pretty straightforward UI. Its got free resources for pretty much anything you could want on the internet, both fully legal and dubiously legal.

Welcome

The largest collection of free stuff on the internet!

[jollyfurydragonballer]

[khanuckle-deactivated20250628]

[magicratfingers]

I want a platformer game where you’re a frog but when you try to jump on something whoopsie doopsie flippy flappy what’s he doin now totally it’s just uncontrollable hops and the only other button is ribbit

[maykitz]

can anyone tell me the watch order for every movie ever so i can understand all references and homages

[caucasianbuttslut]

@dionrevel PLEASE share the link.

[dionrevel]

Lol sure!!

For movies, here is the beginner's list:

Modern Civilization Essentials

Beginner's guide for getting in the loop.

And the more advanced list:

Full In the Loop

Advanced guide to getting in the loop. Supplementary to "Civilization Essentials." If a movie is on this list, then it has one of these: -Po

Not all these movies are necessarily good, but the ones that gave me small pop culture epiphanies. It made me realize that 30%-40% of the jokes from modern sitcoms are references/parodies- and these movies are their source material.

^^ This is also true for socializing. So many people I thought were naturally funny were just doing movie bits.

[I actually do have a job, I am just a big fan of lists and graphs and flow charts etc.]

[nasfera2]

I wish Americans fucked with more foreign music. You don’t have to know the language to appreciate a good record. Folks in other countries listen to our music and don’t speak a lick of english. Music needs no translator

[liltimmys]

yall wont trick me into listening to kpop

[emily84]

You can try Radiooooo.com - The Musical Time Machine!!

choose a country, pick a decade, and GO!!

you’ll get an endless streaming of songs (ad free!).

I personally found myself loving 1970s Ghana, Senegal and Cote d’Ivoire! Also 1920s and 1970s Japan for sure! Cambodian music: spectacular. Love Armenia and Mali as well. I’ve been told 70s Germany is weird and 30s Algeria is cool but I haven’t gotten around to those yet. Italy’s 1960s is bomb ofc but I’m biased ;)

[randomslasher]

This is the best website anyone has ever shared.

[curlsandstems]

Have you ever seen a violinist going APESHIT?!

Be sure to check out IAmDSharp!

[thegreynightsky]

GO OFFF

[babydollbucky]

Ok so I’ve been playing for 18 years and i’m a string teacher. Can i just say how IMPORTANT it is for young kids to see a BLACK, MALE-PRESENTING PERSON playing, nae, SHREDDING on a violin? I’ve know maybe 5 black people who played stringed instruments throughout my schooling and teaching (predumably because i’m an upper middle class white woman). In districts where the population is predominantly black, funding is always low, so the instruments are crappy. Kids quit, or the program is dismantled. I’ve seen very few professional string players who are black.

Obviously there are black string players. We just don’t see them because they “don’t look like” string players.

This person is the real deal. They were clearly classically trained, and seems to have some fiddle training as well. How cool is that?

[lil-tumbles]

But also… RAD PLAYING MY DUDEEEE

[ladyofspoons]

this is the coolest guy alive actually

[creepymutelilbugger]

I think this might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life that involves a violin

[postpunkindustrial]

Download 30-gigs of lost cassettes from the 80s underground

Archive.org unleash a windfall of lost music

Archive.org deliver a windfall of lost music.

If you’re looking for a good way to spend the rest of your week, Archive.org have unearthed a gigantic collection of cassettes from the mid-eighties into the mid-nineties. According to their notes, the collection was saved from the archives of noise-arch.net and donated by former CKLN-FM radio host Myke Dyer in August of 2009. Due to the size and obscurity, the collection hasn’t been properly notated but is said to include cassettes ranging from “tape experimentation, industrial, avant-garde, indie, rock, DIY, subvertainment and auto-hypnotic materials”. Head to Archive now to download the free collection.

[gothiccharmschool]

I know that some of you will lose your minds over this. 

[flowercrowncrip]

Talking of disability aids, I did get this cool spoon recently which you can use without any grip at all. It has a long handle which can be bent to fit on your arm and once you get it right it's really quite effective.

At the moment it lets me about half a meal without help (apart from putting it on) in certain situations with my arm supported, and I can even use it with my hand splints on

ID two photos showing an adaptive spoon with a long, curled grey handle. In the first Photo it’s is lying on a tray next to a bowl of rice and an adapted mug. In the second it's been around echos wrist while they eat rice sat in bed with their arm supported by a pillow / end ID

( the company I got it from it's called Active hands)

[otterobsession]

Okay just checked this website out and ily op!! They have so many good aids omfg!!

[flowercrowncrip]

Active Hands is one of my favourite sources of disability aids!

They specialise in aids for people who have upper limb impairments and have an incredible range of stuff. It was started by a quadriplegic guy who found it hard to find quality products online/ even know what products exist and it’s like a treasure trove of useful things. I’ve never had a bad product from them.

The range is incredible too: they have things for hobbies (including gym equipment, fishing gear, playing card holders, gardening equipment, kayak equipment), personal care stuff (like tabletop nail clippers, things to make aerosols easier, one handed hair ties) cooking and eating stuff (one handed chopping boards, adapted cutlery of all kinds, jar and bottle openers).

[secondlina]

I saw this tumblr post and HAD to draw it, please accept my humble A:TLA offering.

[auofgoldandfantasies]

@atlaheritageposts

[atlaheritageposts]

atla heritage post

[secondlina]

What the flock?! such smart names!

Science should let more cartoonists name things. That how we got the thagomizer and the Rube Goldberg machines. Anyways! SHERLOCK CROWMES!!!!!

Check out my stuff!

✧Read Namesake✧ ✧Read Crow Time✧ ✧Store✧ ✧Patreon✧

[sparklemaia]

[uswolves]

[gallusrostromegalus]

“Zooarium, which is like a regular zoo but everything is in tanks because the zoo is for merpeople” is a concept I had not previously contemplated but I am absolutely delighted by it now.