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mearcatsreturns · 3 months

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I have a bookstagram, and I recently followed someone because they posted about the overconsumption issue that most bookish social media seems to have. Today, though, they posted another controversial "opinion": that listening to audiobooks isn't reading, and people who claim to have read a bunch of books that they listened to as audiobooks are lying and/or deluded. Listening to audiobooks, she said, is just consuming books.

I disagreed in a fairly politely worded reply, and I intend to unfollow/block, because I find it unlikely this person will change their mind, especially since I'm far from the only person to point out that this is exclusionary and ableist. But this is tumblr/my house, and now I'm going to be as blunt as I want to be.

I'm a librarian and archivist. So much of the work I and others in my field do focuses on making books and reading more accessible and less exclusionary. It is, in fact, incredibly ableist to negate how important audiobooks are for people who have certain disabilities or challenges, and I would in no universe say they aren’t reading. For that matter, a busy person who only has time for audiobooks and for people who just prefer them--it still counts, as far as I'm concerned.

See, there's a difference between an audiobook and a podcast or long song or radio program. An audiobook is still a book--it was written with a particular narrative structure, and the author plays a defined but limited role (once the book is written, it's written; the author isn't tuning in next episode with comments and corrections based on what listeners said). An audiobook is a book, ergo, listening to one is reading. Using braille is reading, and listening to audiobooks is reading.

The part that has me in full Captain Raymond Holt "apparently that is a trigger for me" mode is that this bookstagrammer called listening to audiobooks consumption. In the context of her other posts about overconsumption as an issue in the bookish community (again, agree, but also...mind your own business), this seems particularly insidious to me. Conflating influencer-driven (and capitalist hellscape) consumption with listening to an audiobook (again, a massive boon for the visually impaired and those with disabilities like ADHD, dyslexia, etc.) is rude at best and dangerously exclusionary at worst. Stop letting comparison be the thief of joy; mind your own business and stop looking at the pages that bother you. Focus on the kindness of leaning towards inclusion, meeting people where they are, and leaving judgment behind.*

*This person also said "feel free to comment if you disagree but please don't be mean or judgmental," as if they hadn't just posted the most ableist and judgmental sludge I've seen today.

tl;dr: don’t be a gatekeeping shithead, mind your own business, and

(gif by matalyn on tenor, couldn't find on tumblr)

#books #bookstagram #reading #bookish culture #audiobooks #inclusivity #i am honestly so brave for not arguing with more people #I didn't become a lawyer because I didn't want to monetize my number one hobby (arguing)#this person says they're getting a PhD and writing a dissertation on publishing #so I worry that people will lend their posts a certain weight they don't deserve #so here I am: I've literally taken graduate courses in the history of books and the text as a concept.#i specialized in that. it's what I intend to get a PhD in if I decide I'm insane enough to go back to grad school #anyway trust me bro (gender neutral)#(i won't die on ANY hill but i sure will on a whole lot)

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

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as our lives change, come whatever

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, teen drinking (though probably legal in the UK idk), explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex

Summary: The night you graduate from Hogwarts, you indulge in a bit too much Firewhiskey and have to sleep it off upstairs at the Three Broomsticks.

“Come on, Sirona, please,” Sebastian whines, leaning on the worn edge of the bar as he tries to charm Sirona into giving him the key to the private room upstairs. “Just so we can rest for a while.” “Sebastian,” the weary proprietor sighs. “Unlike you, I may not have graduated today, but I wasn’t born yesterday." “What are you implying, Miss Ryan?” the now former Hogwarts student asks with a teasing grin. “I would never try to get up to anything untoward in your pub, I swear.”

“Sebastian,” the weary proprietor sighs. “Unlike you, I may not have graduated today, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“What are you implying, Miss Ryan?” the now former Hogwarts student asks with a teasing grin. “I would never try to get up to anything untoward in your pub, I swear.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at the young man while she dries an empty Butterbeer mug.

“Just look at the state of her,” Sebastian offers, glancing sidelong at his group of friends crowded around a far table. “I just need somewhere she can rest, I promise it’s all above board.”

Currently, you’re slumped haphazardly between Ominis and Natty, your head resting on the drowsy Slytherin man’s shoulder as you slur something about your formal robes cutting off the circulation in your wrists. Natty laces her fingers with yours and tugs your hand into her lap, clumsily ripping open the cuffs while you laugh, delighted.

“Seems she can take on a fully-grown mountain troll on her own, but she can’t handle her Firewhiskey,” Sirona deduces.

“I can’t Apparate her home like this, Merlin knows where she’d end up if we tried to Floo, and she’d fall right off her broom somewhere over Irondale if we even got that far,” he says, trying to reason with her. “Just until sunrise, and then I’ll take her home.”

Just then you hiccup and startle Natty and yourself into another round of giggles, and Sirona shakes her head good-naturedly.

“Merlin’s beard,” she sighs. “Fine, Sallow, you can have the key for one night. But when I come back to open up in the morning, I want to see no trace I ever caved to you.”

Sebastian quickly takes the key offered to him before she can change her mind. “This is why you’re one of the good ones, Sirona.”

Just a few hours ago, you and your friends had officially graduated and become mature witches and wizards in the eyes of the Ministry. While it isn’t the first time you’ve ever tried the spicy sweetness of Firewhiskey, it is the first time you’ve been able to purchase a bottle at the Three Broomsticks.

(It’s a lot more convenient than having sweet Poppy distract the disgruntled barman at the Hog’s Head in order to pilfer a bottle in exchange for a handful of galleons left behind the bar).

So, perhaps you’d all had a bit too much while celebrating your newfound freedom, and now that the end of the night drew near, only Sebastian had retained enough of his sense to see everyone off.

“Natty,” he asks, sliding back into the booth. “You’re off to Hogwarts for the night, then?”

“It seems I cannot escape,” she laughs. “I will stay with my mother in her quarters until I find a flat in London.”

“Our newest Auror!” you exclaim, tugging Natty’s arm to your chest.

“And you, Ominis?” Sebastian continues.

“Not with my mother, that’s for sure,” he demurs. “Off to Feldcroft for the night, I think.”

“With Aaaaaaann,” you coo, and Sebastian politely – generously, in fact – ignores how Ominis’ cheeks go red.

“Right then,” he grumbles. “Obviously this one is in no state to travel, so Sirona’s agreed to let us stay upstairs for the night.”

“Upstairs?” you breathe, reaching across Natty to take Sebastian’s hand. “The private room?”

“Be good,” he says firmly. “You’re just going to sleep.”

“Fat chance,” Ominis mumbles into his mug.

“Shouldn’t you be going?” Sebastian asks pointedly, throwing some extra galleons onto the table for the young wizard who’d been bringing them rounds of drinks. “It’s quite late, and I believe Ann was expecting you at ten.”

“...What time is it?” Ominis asks, sounding slightly panicked – the Sallow siblings aren’t exactly known for their patience.

“After ten,” Natty laughs.

Just like that, Ominis curses under his breath and Disapparates right from his seat.

“Need a hand getting her upstairs?” Natty offers, but Sebastian quickly waves her off, insisting she Floo home and get some rest herself. As soon as she disappears in a quick burst of green flames from the fireplace at the end of the pub, Sebastian hauls you out of the booth and starts to walk you upstairs.

“S’not even that late,” you whine. “We graduated today Seb, s’a big deal!”

“I know, love,” he replies fondly. “But I think it’s time for you to call it a night.”

You’re quite the handful to get upstairs, occasionally tripping on the pub’s ancient wooden stairs – not to mention protesting the entire time.

Once Sebastian manages to get you into the private room, he quickly locks the door and enchants the small loveseat along the far wall into a modest-sized bed for the night.

“Sit,” he insists, wrangling you toward the bed and kneeling in front of you. “Boots off.”

He barely gets one of your shoes free before you drape your leg over his shoulder with a sly grin, trying to pull him in closer.

“Not a chance, dearest,” he drawls. “You’ve had so much Firewhiskey tonight I could light a match off of your breath.”

“But it’s graduation night,” you protest. “S’the most important night of our lives!”

“I’m not sure I agree,” he counters as he tugs off your other boot, thinking of a much more special night he’d like to have with you a few more years down the line, when you’re both ready. Once you’ve established yourselves, he thinks.

(Once he’s earned it, his inner voice tells him.)

“But I want you,” you whine, trying one last time to coax him into trouble.

And Sebastian will admit, he’s far from a perfect man. It’s certainly tempting.

But he manages to make himself focus on helping you out of your cloak and robes, and thank Merlin that wrestling you free of your corset takes long enough that your eyelids start to droop. He nudges you onto your side while he strips off his own cloak and dress shirt, eventually joining you to wrap his arm around your waist and tug you back against his chest like he’s done nearly every night for the past year.

“Sleep, you little minx,” he groans tiredly, his nose buried in your hair.

—

In the morning, Sebastian wakes up to your hand down the front of his trousers.

It might not even be morning yet, he thinks blearily. It’s still somewhat dark in the small private room, its sparse furnishings barely visible in the weak light from the two windows high above him.

“Good morning, Seb,” you whisper, nosing along his neck before pressing a lingering kiss to the hinge of his jaw.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“It’s early, Sirona won’t come to kick us out for another hour or so,” you offer.

Sebastian realizes you’ve got your hand wrapped around his cock only when you start to stroke him, and any argument he’d had against letting you have your way with him starts to go murky in the back of his mind.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks, his head tipping back against the pillow.

“No,” you insist, mouthing at his jawline. “Promise.”

You’ve already thrown one of your legs across his lap and you’re wearing nothing but your undergarments. Sebastian doesn’t stand a chance, and he knows it.

He groans softly as you kiss your way from his jaw up to his plush lips, distracting him while you clumsily tug your underwear off with your free hand and wiggle your way fully onto his lap.

“How long have you been up?” he asks.

“Oh, just a little longer than you’ve been up,” you answer, pointedly stroking him again.

“I had no idea you could be so crude,” Sebastian laughs. “What happened to my good little witch, hm?”

“She’s not a student anymore,” you answer, extracting your hand so you can finish undoing the front of Sebastian’s trousers.

Leaning back onto his thighs, you pull his trousers down as far as you can and then his underwear as well, until his bare cock rests against the lowest part of his stomach, glistening wet at the tip.

“Like this?” he asks hopefully, sliding a hand up your bare thigh to your hip to coax you forward again.

“Yes,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss him gently at first, and then rougher when his grip on your hip tightens to encourage you to grind your wet core against him.

When you can’t take the teasing anymore, you quickly sit up and lift your hips so you can reach between your thighs and take Sebastian in your hand. Holding his cock steady, you meet Sebastian’s gaze as you line him up against your entrance and start to sink down.

He’s stunned silent – a rare occasion.

Truthfully, you’ve been ready for him since you awoke, but a bit of teasing from your own fingers while he slept helped make sure you could take him straight away. You didn’t want to waste any of your precious time in the pub’s private room on anything other than having him inside you.

You gasp softly once he’s fully inside, your ass pressed to the tops of his thighs as his hands roam hungrily over your hips, your legs, and even your chest.

“You really needed it, didn’t you?” Sebastian asks, his voice still a bit hoarse. “You woke up this wet for me, love, that’s… fuck.”

“Yes,” you whimper, starting to rock up and down to let yourself feel the fullness of him inside before you start to ride him in earnest. “It’s all I wanted, all night.”

“Take it, then,” he says smugly, removing his hands from your body to fold his arms behind his head. “I want to see you take what you want.”

You both know your relationship thrives on a bit of healthy competition, it always has. So when he issues a challenge like that, you have to meet it. Narrowing your eyes at his knowing gaze, you trail your own hands up your body – he likes a bit of a show, of course – and start to ride him properly.

Despite the usual hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade, it’s silent in the early morning hours. All you can hear are the sounds coming from the bed: your panting breaths, Sebastian’s low groans, the addictive sound of bare skin on skin, and the dubious creaking of the conjured bed’s wooden frame.

“How’s that, love?” Sebastian asks lazily, watching you throw your head back in pleasure as you grind down on him over and over. “Is that enough for you, or do you need more?”

“More,” you slur without even thinking. Whatever he wants to give you, you’ll take it, no questions asked.

He laughs softly before reaching out to press one of his large hands to the crease of your hip, rubbing his thumb gently against your clit. When you moan encouragingly, he presses a little harder.

“Like that?” he asks. “You want to come on my cock like this?”

“Please,” you beg, and you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for. You’re full of him, you’ve got his hands on your body, you’ve got his fiery gaze all over you… it’s nearly too much, but not quite enough.

But Sebastian knows. He always knows just what you need.

He sinks the fingers of his free hand into your hair at the base of your neck and pulls you down to him, messily kissing you and nipping at your bottom lip until you open up and let him devour your desperate moans. This angle, bent over his body like this, it’s exactly what you need.

Sebastian grins victoriously as you come apart on top of him, biting gently along your neck when you throw your head back and cry out helplessly.

“That’s it, good girl,” he moans, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can keep you pressed close to him.

He shifts you forward so that he can plant his feet on the bed, fucking up into you the second your leverage is gone. You figure he’s probably close, he’s usually desperate to follow you once he’s gotten you off.

“Sebastian,” you whine against his cheek. “Please.”

“Please what?” he grits out, the arm around your waist drifting lower to roughly grab at your ass. “You need more, you greedy thing?”

“Please, come in me,” you keen, and Sebastian nearly chokes.

He manages a few more precise thrusts before his rhythm is gone and he simply buries himself in you, his core taught while he finishes with a low groan. You press sweet, aimless kisses across his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw until he goes boneless.

“That’s a hell of a good morning,” he breathes, and you blush a little, tucking your face against his neck. “Maybe I should let the barman overserve you more often.”

“Overserve me?” you protest. “And just who was pouring all those shots, hm?”

“Couldn’t possibly have been me, I’m quite responsible,” he drawls, and you playfully elbow him in the side. “Speaking of which, you need to eat some breakfast soon or you’ll be useless the entire day, and last night you offered to help Natty look at flats this afternoon.”

“I did?” you groan.

“Well, I figured while we’re with her, maybe we could see if there’s any we like for us,” Sebastian says hesitantly. “I mean, if – if you still want to.”

When you delightedly throw your arms around him and roll him toward the clean side of the bed, he assumes that it’s still a yes.

—

Sirona cautiously steps into her pub an hour later, listening intently for any sounds of passion lest she become further scarred by Hogwarts’ hormonal teens than she already has been over the years.

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks is quiet, and there’s a note on the bar next to a fresh bottle of ink from Scrivenshaft’s.

Sirona,

Thank you so much for letting Sebastian and me sleep upstairs last night. We’re taking off for now, but I wanted to gift you some new ink so that you’ll write to us in London – any exciting gossip is of course appreciated, but if there’s ever anything we can do to help out in Hogsmeade, please don’t hesitate to write.

P.S. Apologies about the loveseat. I promise we used Scourgify.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sirona ryan #no beta we die like men #message me if you find any typos/errors xoxo #yes the title is a lyric from graduation by vitamin c because i'm WHAT? corny #my fic

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