#and that i'd found someone local who would go with me instead of having to be awkwardly alone

[tardis-stowaway]

I got to see Vienna Teng live! She's one of my all-time favorite musicians since I learned about her through fandom back in the aughts, but this is my first time seeing her perform. I'd thought I might never see her in concert when she spent several years no longer doing music full time and rarely playing shows, so I was beyond thrilled when she went back on tour.

It was a really wonderful show. The venue was small, so I had a good view. She played a mix of songs from across all her albums, including a number based on shouted audience requests. Not every one of my favorites was included (I was especially sorry not to hear Gravity or Stray Italian Greyhound), but there were a lot of songs I adored that were there.

The one cover she played made me gasp in excitement. The Lost Words Blessing is an achingly beautiful song about trying to retain connection to nature, expressive language, and hope in a time of grief and change. I love in its original form, and it suited Vienna perfectly.

Here's all the songs I can remember that she played (though other than the first one and last two I'm not sure about the order):

Augustine Homecoming Antebellum City Hall The Tower Whatever You Want Blue Caravan No Gringo Oh Mama No Lost Words Blessing Harbor We’ve Got You (new double song with two melodies meant to be layered) Eric’s Song A mini-song that is mostly written for her toddler that went something like "Before We Go On Adventures, First We Try to Pee" Never Look Away Green Island Serenade Level Up Grandmother Song

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Advisor,

I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.

Dear Awkward Anonymous,

It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.

So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.

Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.

Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)

Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.

Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.

Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.

Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.

It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.

[thesweetestofdreams]

a date at the pumpkin patch.

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (820 words)

warnings: should be none, just a fall date with the boys

a/n: I couldn't let the idea of walking through a fall fair with the marauders, so please enjoy a seasonal fall treat. P.S. If you so happen to have any requests or ideas I'd love the chance to write some for you

Fall leaves crinkled underfoot as you walked through the dirt path of the pumpkin patch. A local affair of corn mazes and caramel apples that you'd looked forward to all year. "I want to find the biggest one. I mean almost too big to carry," James said, arms spread wide to emphasize his declaration.

"You do realize you'd have to find a way to bring it home, Prongs." Sirius said, hand lazily intertwined with James's as it swung with his movement. 

"And all the way up the stairs" you added. 

"How about a regular pumpkin, one that won't swallow our entire flat?" Remus tried, ever the voice of wisdom, but James just waved away all of your comments. 

"Found it," James said, gesturing to the massive pumpkin sitting in front of the four of you as you turned. It was a part of the pumpkin growing contest and it most certainly wouldn't fit through the doorway to your home. 

"If you can pick it up then you can bring it home," Sirius joked. Remus sent him a half serious "no he can't" glare. 

"Do you think they'd let me?" James asked, looking around for the owner of the gigantic beast of a pumpkin. 

"Surely not," you mused. The mood of the evening had you walking an autumn high. Everything smelled like it was sprinkled with cinnamon through a fresh wind. It bit at your cheeks and chapped your lips, but you didn't care. You were with your boys in an orange wonderland, everything painted gold by the slowly sinking sun.

You slid into James's side, settling next to your living furnace. 

"Are you cold, dove?" Remus looked at you scanning you up and down like he was looking for the cold sticking onto you somewhere. 

James squeezed you into him. "We can go home if you want," he said, pumpkin forgotten and concern wrinkling his brow. 

"No no, the haunted corn maze starts at sundown. Sirius has been looking forward to it all day." 

"Don't worry about it doll," Sirius said ready to pack up the car in a moments notice. Your boyfriends with all their love could be a bit overconcerned. 

"I'm okay promise. Especially next to James," you said feeling warmer by the second. 

"Okay well if you do want to go just say the word," Remus said. 

"We won't let her freeze Moony," Sirius said patting a hand to Remus's chest. "I'll show you."

Part of you thought he might come kiss you. He always joked at the heat coming from your cheeks when he did. It stroked his ego too much but you couldn't help it. Instead he guided you all to a small booth. Paper cups full of amber cider sat in lines pouring tiny plooms of steam into the air. Sirius bought three ciders and one hot chocolate for Remus. 

"And here I thought you were going to kiss me," you said as he passed you the cup. He halted it in front of you not giving it up. 

"And who said this was free hmm." He cocked his head to one side, smug as you smiled. 

"Not a fair trade," you said even as you leant in for his waiting kiss. 

He pressed cold knuckles to your cheek. "She's fine." You took the cider feeling the hot cup make quick work on your numbing fingers. 

James downed his cider far too quickly and denied any accusations of burning his mouth. As you made your way towards the haunted maze he confided to you that he did indeed burn himself. If only there were someone that could kiss it better he whispered into your ear. 

The sun set and James and Sirius went into the haunted maze. 

You and Remus sat together on a bench nestled against the fiery gold treeline. "You would tell us if you wanted to go home right?" Remus asked, rolling his hot chocolate cup in his hands. 

"Of course Rem," you said. It was true. "But why would I want to go home? This feels like a dream." You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling like you were exactly where you needed to be. 

"A good dream." He nodded, you felt it ruffle your hair.

Sirius and James would soon come and join you insisting it was too cold to stay any longer. The two would deny it later, claiming the maze wasn't at all scary enough, but you swore you heard them scream a few times. 

The four of you went home with three small pumpkins and one James-approved larger pumpkin. The rest of the night was spent with warm blankets and old movies you'd all seen a hundred times over. You fell asleep lazily untangling the knots in Sirius's hair.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 93 (Finally Coming Clean)

When Conrad arrived home on Friday night, Ash was in the city. He took a shower, joining Heather in the kitchen while she cooked dinner and talked about Ray Pierce, the Landgraabs' driver who she'd met that afternoon. "He seems as nice as Ash says. It's just annoying I had to find out about him from my son and not his father."

Conrad didn't say much; he couldn't exactly chastise Malcolm for keeping secrets from her. Lavender was awake and Conrad practiced sitting with her for a while, putting her to bed as the scent of chicken stir-fry wafted up the stairs.

He went to the kitchen, smiling at the setup of food and candles at their dining table. "You didn't have to do all this." He kissed her cheek. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is, I love you. I just wanted to take away a little stress from your day."

He frowned, and his hands went limp around her waist. "Heather, I need to tell you something. The case I told you about that's been driving me crazy...I backed out of it yesterday morning."

She looked at him, confused. "Maybe that's for the best. But it's not like you to give up on a case."

"I had to let this one go. It was kind of...it wasn't an official case. I've been looking for someone off the books for close to six months."

"Why? Is it someone you know?"

He nodded, and she followed him to sit across from him at the kitchen table. "There's so much about my past I haven't been able to tell you. I should have said something long before I moved in, but I'd convinced myself it was totally in my past and would never be an issue."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember that woman who was looking in our windows when you were pregnant? I wasn't sure at the time, but I got the cameras as a precaution, regardless. She started texting me after Lavender was born."

"Who is she?"

He took a deep breath. "She's my ex."

"Conrad, what does she want?"

"Me. She only wants me. But she can't have me so she's..."

"Is she dangerous? Is this the college girlfriend who cheated on you and broke your heart?"

"Same one. Her name's Ximena Bonilla and she's a little...erratic. But she might not be as dangerous as the people she associates with."

"Who does she associate with?"

"Selvadoradian cartels. She's a drug dealer."

The shock and confusion on Heather's face turned to anger. "How do you know her?"

"I met her when I was in college. She said she was a student and convinced me for almost a year. She was raising her kid brother, Rafa, by herself and escaped being trafficked by the cartel by running drugs for them instead. When I found out the students were her customers, I should have broken up with her. But I was in love and I wanted to keep her safe. I didn't leave. I got deep enough that I met some of her bosses and knew about some of their operations, but she cheated on me and it broke the spell. I finally left her, but one of their ops went bad and one of the guys they picked up gave my name to San Myshuno PD."

"Conrad, you don't have a criminal record. I looked you up after we started dating."

"You hacked the police database, too?"

"No...I did a public records search after River made a joke about a hacker and a criminal."

"To this day, I don't know how my father did it. My file's locked under clearance even I don't have, same as anyone else on the force with a past, but Landgraab Security's always had contacts at San Myshuno PD. He pulled enough strings to wipe my record clean and transfer me into the academy. I had to give them a couple names in exchange - street dealers, local guys. No one that would really upset the cartel. But the force had to look like they were managing crime in their city, and that's the only reason I became a cop and not a complete screw up."

"Is the cartel after you? Or just your ex? Did you give them her name?"

"I never gave them her name. I couldn't, because I didn't know what would happen to her little brother if I did. She tried to get me back after I left, but I knew it could never work out. When Gord was still a puppy, she cornered us outside my apartment to get my attention when I brought home another girl. I got a restraining order, but when it expired and she stayed away, I thought she was finally gone for good."

"So why is she back?"

"She asked for my help to find her brother."

"Is her brother even missing?"

"He is missing. He's wanted by San Myshuno PD. I wanted to help him before he was arrested and sent to prison."

"But you were looking for him under the table, as a favour to your ex who sounds obsessed with you? No wonder Gord hasn't left us alone since Lavender was born. He always knew what was going on with you, didn't he? And you never thought to mention any of this to me?"

"Heather, I wanted to, I-"

"Were you going to help this guy avoid prison? How? Criminal connections?"

"Nothing like that. I was hoping to be able to talk to him, encourage him to go back to finish high school, find a solid job, and maybe convince a judge to go easier on him. I really thought I'd be able to find him in a few weeks, maybe a couple months, and we could all move on again. But uncovering leads has been impossible, and his sister's not a reliable source. I'd even started a file on Ximena because I thought once I found her brother I could finally get around to what I should have done more than once and turned her in. But I could see what searching for Rafa and keeping it from everyone was doing to me, so I finally told her yesterday I was done."

"You've been in regular contact with your ex and didn't tell me? And not because there's something between you but because she's dangerous? Conrad, that's worse."

He nodded. "I know it is. I know how not saying anything makes it look, but I'm so ashamed of that chapter of my life. My bad decisions killed my father. After he got me into the academy, his heart got weak. Two heart attacks, and he died within months. As long as I live, I'll know the stress I put him under was the cause."

She was quiet, nervously playing with her food. Neither was hungry anymore. "You should have told me this."

"I'm so sorry. The longer I kept it from you, the more I feared telling you too late to deserve understanding. I love you so much, and I never wanted to do anything to lose you."

They were interrupted when Conrad's phone started beeping. This time, it was work, but he read the dispatch and his stomach dropped.

The phone shook in his trembling hand and Heather stood. "Conrad, what is it?"

"There's a dead body at the pier. I've got to go back to work." A bone-chilling shiver ran down his spine. His heartbeat quickened, as though he knew what he'd find when he reached Fisherman's Wharf. "I'm so sorry, Heather. I want to keep talking about this, but I can't."

She nodded. "I understand."

A pit formed in his stomach. "Will you do me a favour? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but will you leave for your parents' place in Henford tonight? Don't wait until morning. I'll probably be working all night and I'd rather know you're safe outside of town."

She uncrossed her arms in shock. "Do you think your ex is involved with the body at the pier? Is that why you want us to leave? Lavender's sound asleep already, but you want me to wake her and take her an hour on the Simmerloop when you invested in those security cameras?"

"Heather, please," he begged, reaching for her hand across the table. "If she's anywhere near Brindleton Bay right now, I can't focus on work if I'm worried about the two of you."

Heather looked at him with sad eyes as their fingers brushed against the wood-top table. Betrayal was written all over her face, but she nodded toward the uneaten food and pulled her hand away. "I'll pack this up in the fridge and then I'll take her. Do you think you'll make it to Henford at all this weekend?"

"Heather, I don't know. I hope so. But I can pack this up before I go. Thank you for cooking. I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy it."

"Me too," she snipped. "Good luck. Be careful."

Heather couldn't look at him and Conrad wouldn't press her. As much as he wanted to run after her and beg forgiveness, a deadly crime scene called him to the pier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Heather doing a semi-romantic dinner setup wasn't a flirty gesture, but she has the caregiver personality type. I can't remember if this is from a mod or an EA feature, to tell you the truth. I think it's a mod. Conrad has the jester personality type, which I think suits him, too. Conrad is really responsible and respectful which suit his proper trait (which was learned after younger mistakes), but jesters trend toward mischief/"foolish games" in addition to being jokesters. EDIT: It's WonderfulWhims/WickedWhims that adds this!!

WCIF Poses Used? Dinner Table Talks by @herecirmsims. I don't even mind the clipping because their kitchen table and chairs didn't quite fit the dimensions, because the poses gave me the expressions I wanted. I tried way too long to try to get the teleporters in the middle of the chairs, but I got close enough for me. Just ignore the fact that their chests were in their stir-fry for 90 per cent of that convo! Thank you so much for creating and sharing! 🙏

[drdemonprince]

Hi Devon! I read your work published on substack on autism and asexuality (really great stuff!) and then found your Tumblr and came across your own experiences navigating sexuality and kink, and they made me wonder if you have any advice for a fellow asexual on the spectrum who struggles socially but is interested in experimenting with sex/kink for the first time? People usually find sexual partners on dating apps or at the club but that seems so daunting I've been entertaining this fantasy of finding a community of people with a virgin fetish just so I don't have download tinder

Abandon your fantasy that anything fulfilling will occur without a massive amount of work. Running one's own sexual life requires a high caliber of communication, negotiation, and self-promotion skills, as well as a significant amount of time and experience. If this is worth it for you, venture forth! If not, maybe now is not the right time.

I will have a much more in depth guide on cruising written sometime soonish, but in the meantime I do have some tips.

Do not use fucking Tinder. That is an incredibly vanilla, heteronormative site. You might have a negative impression of your chances finding what you want because you've only had a glimpse of the most normie places and your friends' experiences with them. To find the kinky, experimental kind of sex you want, you'll instead have to educate yourself, and go looking for the freaks.

Fetlife is a good place to start. It will be overwhelming to navigate at first, but keep pressing. Fill out your profile with your interests, take a few sexy photos (whatever that means for you), and join local groups. Follow people who post things you find interesting, read lots of posts. Pick up some books on leather and kink history, and study up. Jack Rinella is a favorite of mine, but I am deliberately keeping my recommendation list lean so that you will dig for what you are interested in, yourself.

Look up local groups interested in rubber, leather, kink, etc, find local dungeons, attend local munch events (these are low-pressure social hangouts with no kinky play, but for kinksters to meet eachother), and find out where the gay bars are in your area that have backrooms in them, as well as cruising spots. Check out spaces where people do kinky or sexual stuff together and just watch.

After considerable information gathering and self-searching, put yourself out there and take agency over your own sexual life. Message people you find interesting, and I do mean just interesting. Learn from other bottoms if you're a bottom. Trade stories with other subs if you're a sub. Learn techniques from other Doms if you're a Dom, or some combination of all these things if you're verse or switchy. If someone shares some interests with you and seems compatible, make a specific suggestion for play, like: Want to meet up and practice our rope tying? or Would you like to practice your spanking technique on me? or I don't like having sex, but I'd love to use you as my personal footstool.

Remember that you get to set the terms for the engagement, and the other person does as well. If they reject you, that means consent has successfully happened, everybody gets a pat on the back, good job. The same goes for you. If all you want is to drag a human puppy around on a leash, don't settle for someone who keeps pressuring you for sex. Just end the interaction. There are a whole lot of freaks out there with a whole array of interests, and most people who are kinky eventually learn to be gracious and work with what a prospective partner is into, but we also all have our dealbreakers. That's fine. You don't want to play football with someone who insists on tackle when all you want is touch. It's the same thing. This is just silly pretend games. So find someone who wants to play a game you want to play.

And yeah, you can expect it to take about two years to really find your footing in this world and really know what you want and how to articulate it successfully, at least. That doesn't mean you won't have enjoyable (or at least interesting, informative) experiences along the way. But it is a lot of work. I find it is better to lead off with realistic expectations because many people rush out hoping that someone will just magically appear who will fulfill all their desires, and that's not how the world works. Every person that you speak to in a kinky context is a full human being with their own anxieties, sexual traumas, shame, areas where they lack experience, and desires that might strike them as impossible to realize.

In kink, you have to learn to navigate really complicated interactions with each one of them as its own independent thing. A lot of us make the mistake early on of thinking everyone else out there is a more seasoned, confident, sexually voracious being than we are, and that all we have to do is find the right person to give us a good time. But with our actions and negotiations WE make it a good time, us and our partner of the moment, together.

If you don't put the work in, you get nothing out. But the more you reveal of yourself and stay present in the interaction and honor it as the specific, unique thing that it is, the more benefits you reap -- not just sex or kinky play, but friendships, community ties, self-knowledge, and social skills.

Have fun out there! I hope you learn a lot.

[blingblong55]

Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)

Based on a request:

Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era

A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes

F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming

7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.

If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.

By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.

"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"

You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.

By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.

After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.

Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.

Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.

With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.

And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.

He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.

One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"

You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.

"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.

"Sunday...time?"

His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?

"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."

A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"

"I'll pick you up?"

"I don't see why not."

You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.

During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.

"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.

"Thank you, for giving me this chance."

Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.

6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.

4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.

"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"

You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.

Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.

And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.

Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.

His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

Tags: @anonymuslydumb

A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise

[solarpunkani]

Milkweed Lovers Everywhere, Heed My Warning

By all means let me know if I'm wrong here, but if I'm not wrong then we're looking at a serious (at least to me) problem.

I've been trying to stray away from Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) and towards more native species in my area--things like swamp, sandhill, etc--and Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) fits in that category for me. It's hard to find native milkweed plants in stores--even places I've gone to in the past that had a handful of native species are currently only selling Tropical Milkweed. Even still, I know that there's been a good bit of buzz around growing native species, and some stores I've visited have said they're trying to find vendors with native species--they're not only selling Tropical for lack of trying.

So imagine my surprise--and delight--when I go to Lowe's and see Asclepias tubersoa blazoned on a plant label!

And imagine my surprise when it's being sold right next to Tropical Milkweed and looks almost identical to it.

I was immediately suspicious--especially considering the red flower buds on the 'Butterfly weed'. I've grown Tropical Milkweed for several years, and while it's been awhile since I've seen a Butterfly Weed plant outside of a photograph, these definitely didn't look like what I'd seen. Not to mention, I'd only heard of Asclepias tuberosa flowering in orange or yellow--not red. Of course, at the same time, I'm not a professional botanist, and a quick google search did declare that butterfly weed can grow in red (though the images all look like asclepias curassavica to me...).

(Image from the Native Plant Database. Looking at this picture, I should've realized where this was going sooner...)

So I did the reasonable thing and bought two of them. I figured if the red buds somehow turned orange and were actually Butterfly Weed, then I'd be perfectly satisfied. If they turned out to be Tropical Milkweed, well, I simply would give them to my neighbor who's fond of them, or find something else to do with them.

(I feel the need to emphasize; there are a lot of people online who are in the 'if you plant tropical milkweed you're a horrible person and intentionally killing monarch butterflies' camp. I am not one of them; it's not invasive in my area of Florida, it just takes a little bit of extra managing in terms of cutting it back in October/November.)

I ended up in the same Lowe's again today, shopping for my mom, and took a peek at their plant selection. Lo and behold, I found the Butterfly Weed, and...

This sure does look like Tropical Milkweed to me, and to others in my gardening server, yet it's still labeled as 'Butterfly Weed.' Also, I didn't see any Tropical Milkweed on any of the shelves--at least, nothing labeled as Tropical Milkweed. Instead, all I saw was Tropical Milkweed disguised as Butterfly Weed.

This is, in my humble pollinator garden enthusiast opinion, a problem. At best, Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--is mislabeling their plants on accident. Which could cause problems if people are buying the plants and putting them in a place that's not quite the right condition for them, or create severe disappointment if someone's excited to grow the native Asclepias tuberosa only to end up with something else entirely. At worst? Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--are aware that people want to grow native milkweed and are either unable to or too lazy to grow them, and would rather try to get away with selling Tropical Milkweed--which has been growing increasingly controversial in some gardening circles--and still reap the benefits and profits of selling native milkweed species.

However, I'll be real? I'm not sure what exactly to do about it. So I guess I'm just letting everyone know; if you see 'Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)' in your local Lowe's, at least double check. Otherwise, you may plant Tropical Milkweed/Scarlet Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) instead.

[captainsophiestark]

The 60s

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Day 9 Prompt: "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Summary: Klaus wiped the memory of the love of his life after hundreds of years together to try to protect them from Mikael. Now, however, his ex has their memories back is going to find their boyfriend. Even if he is in someone else's body.

Word Count: 2,215

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I was going to kill Klaus Mikaelson.

Unlike the other thousand people who'd probably had that thought in the last week alone, however, mine was actually justified. For hundreds of years, Nik and I had been together, happy, and in love. We'd wandered the world together, side by side, having each other's backs through thick and thin. Out of everyone in the entire world, I was the only one he'd always trusted, completely, without a doubt in mind.

And then Mikael had shown up one time too many.

Nik and I had faced him a few times, and he had firmly held the spot of 'my least favorite Original' for literal centuries. We'd always come out shaken, but fine, until about a hundred and fifty years ago. That time, he'd gotten Nik cornered, so I'd jumped in to save him. Mikael had almost killed me instead.

We'd managed to both make it out alive, thankfully, but Nik had been foaming at the mouth with nerves and fear. I'd tried to calm him down, but it hadn't worked. He'd gotten too scared, so for the first time in our entire relationship, he broke my trust. He compelled me to forget him, and to go somewhere else, far away, where I'd never be put in danger by him and his family again.

It had worked, unfortunately for me. Until recently, when something had happened to break the compulsion and bring my memories back. At first, I'd been terrified that it meant Nik had died. But, after a little investigating and compelling of my own, I realized he'd been body-hopping with the help of witches. Something about it must've shaken his compulsion loose, and allowed me to remember.

It hadn't taken me long to track him down to Mystic Falls, Virginia. I couldn't help being a little proud of myself for finding him so quickly; it helped that I knew him well. I'd arrived in Virginia last night, and managed to track down Nik's exact location and hiding place just as quickly. He'd apparently taken over the body of a history teacher at the local high school. Who would I have been to miss that opportunity?

With a little more compulsion, I'd convinced the front office staff to let me into the teacher's history class. I found a seat to one side of the classroom, then settled in to wait for Nik to show up. I almost blew my cover when, a moment later, the spitting image of Katherine Pierce walked through the door.

I knew he'd come to town for the doppelgänger, but it was still surprising to see someone who looked just like Katherine. Apparently, that lie we'd planted about the Curse of the Sun and the Moon had been working out pretty well. She sat on the other side of the room from me, flirting with another vampire and sitting with her witch friend. I sighed, already ready to leave the classroom, when Nik finally walked in.

The teacher, Alaric Saltzman, was tall, with brown hair, and dressed in something I could almost see Nik wearing normally. He strode through the open door with a "hello class" and went right to his desk like it was any other day. I snorted.

"What... are we learning today?" he mused, flipping through his history book. He hadn't looked up once; hadn't had a chance to see me yet.

"With the decade dance tonight we've been covering the sixties all week," a girl in the front chimed in. Nik looked up.

"Right. The sixties."

For the first time, he turned, and I thought his eyes might finally find me. Instead, they found the doppelgänger—Elena—like a heat-seeking missile.

Understandable, since we didn't think she existed. But still annoying.

He glanced from her to the open classroom door, then turned to the board. I huffed a sigh and rolled my eyes. What was he gonna do, just grab her and run? Much too obvious for his style, and we both knew it.

"The uh... the sixties," he started, mentioning the decade for the third time now as he turned around to write the same words on the board. "...I wish there was something good I could say about the sixties."

I covered a snort with my elbow. I almost raised my hand to say something like "Maybe they would've been better if you'd still had me with you", but that was also too sloppy for my style. Too many students asking questions, seeing me, and too many enemies possibly getting hints about Nik.

"They actually kind of sucked," Nik continued. "Except for the Beatles, of course, they made it bearable."

His eyes strayed to Elena's witch friend, and my heart squeezed in my chest. Nik was recounting memories that didn't include me, when I should've appeared in almost all of them. The hurt was only semi-manageable because I wasn't looking at the love of my life's face while hearing this, too.

"Uh, what else was there? The Cuban Missile... thing. The uh... we walked on the moon, that was, uh... Watergate."

"Watergate was the seventies, Ric," Elena chimed in with a fond smile. "Uh, I mean, Mr. Saltzman."

"Right," Nik continued, a familiar edge to an unfamiliar smile. His eyes never strayed from Elena. "It all kind of... mushes together up here. Sixties, seventies. Thank you, Elena."

I watched him teach the rest of the class in a way that could only be described as 'playing with his food'. He said Elena's name another time or two, savoring it in a way I recognized as him relishing in victory. I was happy to see him happy, but the added side effect of him being so wrapped up in doppelgänger nonsense meant that he still hadn't noticed me.

I tried not to let it get to me. Especially since it had given me the best opening I could've asked for to scare the daylights out of Nik and get just a little bit of payback.

Once the bell rang, I stood and hovered at the edge of the classroom. Nik dismissed everyone and said goodbye to the class, saying a special, specific goodbye to Elena and watching her leave. It wouldn't have been terribly obvious to anyone with no reason to suspect 'Alaric' was not who he said he was, but it was ridiculous to me.

Nik moved to the door to look out into the hallway as the classroom emptied of every single student except for me. He watched Elena go, his back to what he thought was an empty classroom, giving me exactly the opening I wanted. I crossed the room quickly but quietly, using all of my vampire skills to keep him from noticing me until I was right next to him, almost shoulder to shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, right into Nik's ear. He'd jumped and spun around at the first word, but now stood frozen, his mouth open in shock as he stared at me. I grinned. "You know, whatever you were planning to do to the doppelgänger. At school. In a human body. While she's surrounded by supernaturals. That's just a bad idea."

"Y/N..." he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. Then, he surged forward, wrapping me tight in his arms and spinning me around in a hug. He moved backwards into the classroom, and I slammed the door with my heel just to avoid any prying eyes.

Nik finally pulled back, eyes wide and a vague smile on his face, like he was happy but didn't actually believe this was real. I smiled back at him, even though he didn't quite look like my Nik, and gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"How... how is this possible?" he asked, his voice still quiet, like any loud noise might shatter the moment. "How are you here?"

"I still don't totally know. But I think, when you moved into this... teacher body... it was enough for your compulsion on me to break."

Nik's face fell immediately, as it should have. I frowned, the immediate happiness of finding Nik having worn off.

"I can't believe you did that to me, Nik," I said, taking a step back from him. "It was supposed to be the two of us, through everything. Against everything. No matter what. How could you betray that?"

He gave a frown of pain, taking a half step towards me before thinking better of it.

"You don't understand. My... Mikael... almost killed you. If I'd been the cause of your death-"

"Okay, first of all, you would never be the cause of my death. You know how I know? Because you would never kill me." I stared at Nik long and hard, and although he looked away from my gaze quickly, I never did. "Second, the only person who would've been the cause of my death was Mikael. You are not responsible for a bad person trying to kill me."

"Unless that bad person is trying to kill you to get to me." He said it quietly but firmly, looking up at me with a rueful smile from lowered lashes, like he'd just said some checkmate truth we'd both been avoiding. I put a hand on my hip and glared.

"Actually Nik, no, it's still not your fault. It's the bad person's fault. That's it. And before you start telling me it's your fault for dragging me into it or whatever, I could've left. I didn't want to, and I still don't want to. I've seen every level of crazy your life has to offer, and I'm signing up for all of it.

"And Nik, before you try to tell me how much you'd miss me if you lost me, you did lose me! By letting fear drive you to compel me out of your life. And I also lost you. I guess I've been generally content for the past hundred and fifty years, but I've never been totally satisfied. Because something is missing. I've known total and complete happiness, and it's whenever I'm with you. This immortal life isn't worth living without you, Nik. Don't try to tell me it is."

He stared at me for a few long moments, then pulled me to him again. Unlike the first hug, this time our feet stayed planted firmly on the ground, wrapped tight in the strong hold of each other's embrace. I sighed as Nik rested his head against mine, moving his mouth right next to my ear.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that to you. I was just... terrified at the thought of losing you."

"I know. But Nik, we're nothing if we're not together. I need you to promise me you won't do that again. The two of us, side by side, for eternity. That's it, alright?"

He pulled away, hands holding my arms tight as he stared me straight in the eye.

"I give you my word."

Slowly, a smile spread across my face, a new warmth growing in my chest. Not once, in hundreds of years, had Nik ever broken his word to me. We were going to be okay.

He grinned back at me once he noticed my smile, then leaned in to kiss me. I stopped him, jerking back a bit, and he gave me a concerned look.

"I love you, and I am so happy to see you again, but I'm not kissing you until you're back in your own body. I have no interest in kissing this rando you've possessed."

Nik grinned, and although it wasn't his body or his smile, I swear it looked exactly like it was supposed to.

"Fair enough. I don't think I want you kissing this 'rando' either. What do you say we get out of here, and do what needs to be done so I can get back into my body, break my curse, and kiss you properly?"

"...Not in that order, right?"

"No, not in that order."

"Then deal."

Nik smiled and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as we headed towards the door together. I had no idea what the next part of his plan was, but once I was caught up to speed, I knew we'd be putting it into action shoulder to shoulder again, and all would be right with the world.

"You know, you're a shit teacher," I mused as we headed off into the high school together. Nik shot me a look as he kept leading me towards whatever destination he had in mind.

"Do you remember much interesting information to teach children about the sixties?"

I shrugged. "No. But I could probably fake it better than you. Watergate."

"I was in Australia, Watergate was a low priority."

"I was in Greenland, so... checkmate."

He just shook his head, a smile finding its way onto his face all the same. I was the only one in the world Nik trusted endlessly, the only one who could find him in a matter of days no matter where he was in the world, and the only one who could get away with giving him shit with absolutely no repercussions. And now that I had him and my memories back, I was never letting him go.

****************

TVD/TO Masterlist: @elenavampire21

[eiko-chatter]

(CW death, suicide) 6 months ago today, I lost a close friend.

Mari was - someone who loved unabashedly and shared it with the world, despite having been horribly wronged by it. She made a point of complimenting strangers because she knew she was unthreatening and wanted people to know the things about them she appreciated. She tried hard to reach out to people she thought seemed neat, even though it took her time to build up the courage - that's how we met in the first place, at skating night. (she told me later she'd been building up the courage to talk to me the first 3 times we'd been at skating together). In my short time with her, she made it abundantly clear how much she loved her people - her entire soul lit up when she talked about them. She told me so many stories about people I didn't know very well and more about people I'd never met - will probably never meet, now - and even though she's gone, a little piece of her love for them remains.

She brought that energy to her hobbies - she wrote and shared really detailed strategy guides for the games she played, made and published free translations of foreign gay comics on request - and her friendships. I met Mari only a few weeks before my roommate's cat died. She came to visit us a day or two later, brought us flowers, and kept us company while we grieved. She checked in on us every day, sometimes multiple times a day, and did what she could to help. She was meticulous about keeping track of people's preferences and triggers, and thanked me whenever i told her about one so that she could use it to be more effectively kind.

I didn't really learn the details of what Mari was going through until a week before she died, but it was - genuinely harrowing. She was really hesitant to talk about it at all, but it eventually got bad enough that she was willing to, and when I heard the details I invited her to come to stay with us to get a break and have some company. She stayed with us for 3 days, during which she was more scared and frightened than I'd ever seen her. By the time I took her back home, things had gotten worse - she said she just wanted to be alone, that she thought that would help, so I hugged her and left. (it was the last time I'd see her. she was smiling at me and making a little heart gesture with her hands as I drove away). But being alone ended up being worse for her - she asked me if she should find someone to babysit her, but I - didn't know anyone in her area (it was a pretty long drive), and she was having a lot of trouble with her local social group, so we planned on having me go down to look after her that Saturday, and I spent the time until then checking in on her as often as I could. Friday afternoon she told me she was really grateful that I was doing that for her. It was the last thing she ever said to me.

When I got there Saturday, she was gone. She'd left out a bunch of things that she wanted to gift or return to people. She wrote a note, apologizing to everyone in her life for not being strong enough to ask for help, telling them how much she loved them and how good they were, and a warning on the door, saying not to come in and to instead call 911. (i didn't listen. i wish i had. even then, she was trying so hard to make sure whoever found her wouldn't be hurt more than they had to).

i loved Mari from the moment i knew her well enough to see her for who she was. i've tried, in the last 6 months, to bring a little bit of her kind and thoughtful spirit into my interactions with people, and to do small things to look after the people i know she loved and cared about.

i wish things could have been different. she deserved so much better than this. so often i see things or meet people and think about - how much she would have loved them, how much i wish i could have shared them with her. i miss her so much, still. losing her was the most painful thing i've ever gone through, by far. my friends and family have been - incredibly kind and patient and loving and generous with me. i know i would be doing so much worse without them and am deeply indebted to them. i'm trying really hard to - continue being the kind of person i want to be, to have the traits that she loved in me. it's - often really hard, though it's been getting easier, bit by bit.

goodbye, Mari. i'll always love you. the world is forever diminished by your absence.

[copperbadge]

Sam, how did you find your therapist and build such a good working relationship? Every attempt I’ve made at therapy seems to fizzle out after a few months… and no therapist has ever understood the RSD aspect of my ADHD, which makes it all feel a little worse every time I try.

I mean, I think really we're still building it -- I haven't had her more than a couple of months and functionally it's been an every-two-weeks situation most of the time because we keep having to move/cancel. I don't know that I can really speak intelligently to building a relationship with a therapist because this is the first time I've ever done it where I was an adult and in control. As for finding one...

Chicago has a group called Clarity Clinic, which is like a WeWork for mental health professionals -- they offer scheduling, billing, and IT/office space to local people who I think are mostly independent operators otherwise. They have a directory that is highly filterable, so I found my psychiatrist there by filtering to stuff like Adult ADHD and medication management. He's great, but he didn't want to be my therapist and I didn't want him to. When I decided on therapy, I asked him if he knew anyone he could recommend, since he knew what my deal was in terms of personality, behavior, etc.

So he gave me a couple of names of fellow Clarity Clinic folks and I had a look on the website and chose the one that sounded like she'd get on best with me. I think I struck it lucky to be honest -- she's young (compared to me) and has ADHD, and she's very familiar with disability discourse, spoon theory, etc, even fandom to an extent. If I were to go looking today I might look more at therapists who specialize in twice-exceptional individuals, but she's good enough with what I'm aiming at that I don't want to change.

So the best advice I have is if you're being treated for other stuff by someone you trust I'd ask them, but also look for someone experienced with adult ADHD, and I'd look for someone on the younger side who's more likely to be understanding of neurodivergent needs. (I also recommend filtering to queer-friendly therapists if you can; I didn't necessarily need that but it means they're likely to be generally accepting and probably have more liberal politics. With the caveat that in shady places like BetterHealth, "LGBTQIA" counselors are sometimes homophobic creeps with an axe to grind.)

Building the relationship has taken proactivity on my part -- ensuring that I always have an appointment on the books (we book out about six weeks in advance now, because we know one of us will likely need to cancel/rebook at times), making sure that I have either an aim for treatment or at least something to talk about, etc. I think in your case probably having a list of things you want to deal with, so that you can check some boxes up top, might help.

I would definitely open with "I have ADHD and I need help with [aspects of that]; I also have RSD and I need to work with someone who respects that diagnosis and understands how to help with it." I went into mine saying "I have ADHD and I'm also struggling with some really big emotion, so I'm looking for help with those, but also like...I'm not really sure what therapy can offer. I've had some bad experiences in the past but they were all when I was a child, so I'm trying to explore some options." Her reaction was a combination of sympathy and a discussion of the kinds of things we might work on, which helped a great deal.

But yeah, I think it starts with establishing right from the jump what you want and need, and then spending time making sure that you both stay on top of that until you find a rhythm. We're still finding our rhythm, but it's getting easier as I'm learning to be clearer about what I want and more comfortable with being a participant instead of someone therapy just happens to.

[varlaisvea]

this pisses me off so much. i can't talk to this person.

i am the fucking vestige. i am the fucking hero of motherfucking nirn okay? you're telling me i can't do fuckall about 95% of the beggars in tamriel? you're telling me that i, defeater of molag fuccking bal, can resurrect myself and others from death at will on the spot, but i cannot give some of my infinity food or infinitely-obtainable moneys to literally anyone who asks me for it?

if you talk to this person begging outside the bank in skingrad, there's no option to give him money. this is all he says:

truly no person deserves to live in poverty, but in my real actual life i have to walk past people in need all the time without the ability to do anything about it. we all do, literally and figuratively, every day. that's how the world is, and eso is meant to be a living world. but also in eso i have infinity food in my bag of holding that means absolutely nothing to me. if this dude were one of the tiny handful of beggars who are interactable, he would ask me for 69 gold nice. that's how much they ask you for. like?? i spend more than that for a lazy wayshrine transport. i literally throw away a meal and a drink every goddamn day for my fucking crafting chores. why not give me an opportunity to be kind, just because? it doesn't have to go anywhere, i don't need an achievement, in fact i would not even want to know how many times i have helped someone. i play this game to feel nice feelings and that would give me a really nice feeling. just let me do it.

not only that, this isn't consistent with the eso i play, you know? my experience of the eso playerbase has been almost laughably kind and supportive for an mmo. for years. literally since the beginning. my experience has been that people are almost universally willing to help if you ask for it. like instead of berating people who ask dumb questions in the zone chat, people will kindly answer the question and give tips. i once saw someone advertising a 'non-LGBTQ' guild in the zone chat, and the zone chat lit up with people telling them they were playing the wrong fucking game. i gave someone 10k gold a couple weeks ago bc they asked for donations in the local area chat. that's nothing to me. i'd have sent more if i'd not just spent all my money on furniture. which is something i am able to do bc someone once sent me A MILLION gold for saying something nice to them. they said it was nothing to them; they didn't need it. it changed my eso life, like allowed me to stop grinding to buy the house i wanted and start farming things that sold for high prices, so that i could make more money to buy cool furniture for my house. like? that is the unobtainable fantasy of most people under the age of ~50 in this country the usa? to start actually saving money, so you can afford a cool home and do good shit for the world? and someone just did that for me bc they didn't need it? i pass it on whenever i can. it's nothing to me. and i am by no means alone in feeling that, in fact i feel it's the leaning of most people i've interacted with in eso, in my guilds or just randos waiting for world bosses to respawn during events. in general, i've found people are nice bc it makes the game nicer for everyone. it's a good way to be in the world. that's literally the eso i play! fuck offffff let me feed people goddammit!

[abitohoney]

Loving your work Honey. Reader crushes on Sev since they frequent the same workout gym? I crave one where Sev workouts frequently. I think its so obvi she takes good care of her body aside from the smoking, drinking, and fighting lolol ^_^ - Kimari

I'm glad you're enjoying my silly little stories. Thank you! 🥰

Clearly, this woman works out. LOOK AT HER BICEP! 🥵

I could totally see Sevika purposefully working out in front of the gym window, hoping to catch the attention of some cute thing that happens to stroll by. I personally have no time for the gym, but if I found out Sevika was frequenting my local gym you better believe I'd be signing up for a membership! Or at least staring at her from the window. I have like zero flirting skills, so I’d probably do something stupid like hold a sign up to said window with my number on it and mouth the words “call me” while holding my fingers to the side of my head like a phone.

Anyway…

Drabble/ficlet (1.4k words) below the cut. (Gonna treat this like a modern AU as I doubt Zaun has gyms. At least not like we are accustomed to. Probably just a creepy abandoned warehouse or basement with a punching bag and a bench, or something like Jinx's cool punching contraption.)

SFW (Gasp! Me? Writing something without smut?)

You had been considering getting yourself a gym membership for some time. You just needed a little extra push before finally biting the bullet. Little did you know, that push would come in the form of a window display. And it wasn’t the equipment.

After having heard about a new promotion at one of your local gyms, you decided to go check the place out. As you strode past the large windows lining the front of the establishment, you curiously peered inside. A long row of treadmills and bikes lined the first half or so, most of them occupied. Nothing surprising about that. But when you continued on, noting a series of benches, something- or rather someone- caught your eye.

You froze in your spot and turned to face said eye-catching person. And, my oh my, did you just find your reason to get that membership. Standing beside one of the benches lifting a single dumbbell was a tall, dark, and incredibly buff woman. Immediately your eyes were drawn to a flexing bicep.

Wow.

Just as the woman's gaze lifted to peer outside in your direction, you quickly resumed your trek towards the entrance, praying she hadn't seen you gaping.

While the girl behind the front desk recited the rules and conditions, you quickly found yourself tuning her out completely. Instead, you scanned the gym, hoping to get another glimpse of the attractive woman. As if the gods heard your wish, you spotted her striding across the room. And not only that, she was staring right at you. Your eyes locked with hers and her dark lips pulled into a small smirk. It only lasted for a fleeting moment before her eyes left yours, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter and your pulse quicken.

Wait- was she… smiling at-

"Excuse me, ma'am," the voice of the clerk pulled you out of your daze.

Reluctantly, you turned back to her and mumbled a quick apology.

"Do you understand the rules and agree to the terms and conditions of the membership?" She repeated.

You failed to take note of her irritated tone, still swooning over that brief moment. So you simply gave her a quick, "Yes, I understand." The sooner you got this over with, the sooner you could get in that gym.

To workout.

That's all.

With a brand new shiny membership card, you started visiting the gym. Frequently. For no other reason than to improve your health. The fact that you happened to notice which days your latest crush visited, and happened to set your schedule to the same days was entirely coincidence. At least that's what you would tell anyone who asked.

Although you always situated yourself far enough from the woman, you still ensured you faced her, observing her as nonchalantly as you could manage. Taking mental notes.

She rarely spoke to anyone. Only mumbled something to herself under her breath occasionally. She normally looked rather perturbed, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown. But anytime her eyes met yours, those soft-looking lips of hers pulled into the faintest smirk. Her left arm was actually a prosthetic, mostly metal, and painted to look like a mix of copper and gold, with neon purple accents that resembled tubing.

It wasn't until one day on her way out that you finally learned of her name.

"See you next Monday, Sevika!" You overheard the girl behind the desk call out with a smile. A smile you thought looked a bit suspicious. A little too… flirty. Not that you cared. Nope!

So… Sevika? What a gorgeous name. Fitting.

Several weeks passed without so much as a word to or from Sevika. You simply admired her from a distance. Admired how her workout clothes- a simple pair of shorts and a tank that revealed her midriff- clung to every line and every curve. How the expanse of her exposed rich, brown skin glistened with sweat. How each muscle beneath her arms, across her back, and down her legs- all flexed as she moved. She really gave a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. She was truly stunning.

A goddess among men.

But you would never approach her. You were far too fearful of rejection. After all, what would a goddess want with a mere mortal like you? So you settled for just crushing on her, daydreaming of what it might be like to feel those muscles beneath your hands. To feel those strong arms wrapped around you as she holds you tight.

However, as you would soon find out, she had her eyes on you as well.

One day, as you took a seat on the nearest weight bench, you discovered Sevika situated not more than a few feet from you. She was bent over, back to you, and facing a mirror while she picked up a large weight in her flesh hand.

Momentarily forgetting what you even sat down to do, you let your eyes travel up the backs of her toned calves and over the curve of her ass. And as she straightened up, you were blessed with the expanse of her muscular back. When your gaze reached her broad shoulders you gawked, transfixed on those muscles as they moved like waves behind her smooth skin.

Realization hit all too late that you were openly ogling this woman, and your eyes darted to the mirror to check if you’d been caught. Reflected gray eyes locked onto yours.

Shit!

She caught you. And yet you couldn’t look away from those beautiful gray eyes, caught like a deer in headlights. Oddly enough though, she didn’t appear angry. Instead, out of your periphery you notice a small upward tug at the corner of her mouth.

Ripped from your stupor, you quickly turned away, praying to any deity willing to listen that Sevika somehow hadn’t known you’d been intentionally watching her. Too flustered by that slip-up, you laid back on the bench and just grabbed the barbell previously loaded on the hooks, with no regard for just how heavy it might be.

You somehow managed to lift the damn thing, but then nearly dropped it on your chest. You strained to keep it up, every muscle in your arms screaming and burning.

God, if you died right here, like an idiot, in front of the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen-

“Need a spotter?” a delightfully deep voice called.

Fuck, you really were dying. You could hear the voice of an angel.

Wait- a spotter? Why the hell would an angel say that?

You tilted your head back against the bench to find a pair of familiar gray eyes peering down at you, and just below those was a pair of dark lips curled into a lopsided grin.

Just let me die now.

Suddenly being caught gaping earlier didn’t feel nearly as embarrassing.

“Please,” you gasped.

With no effort, Sevika grasped the barbell and lifted it back onto the hooks.

“Thanks,” you panted as you sat up. You watched her from your periphery, too ashamed to meet her gaze. You expected her to leave. To return to her routine now that she’d saved the dumbass who tried to lift more than they could handle. To your surprise, she remained at your side, her large frame casting a shadow over you with how close she stood.

"Can't help but notice the way you've been watching me," she finally said after an excruciating stretch of silence.

Damn, her voice was just as smooth and rich as her body.

Her words replayed in your head, finally sinking in. Heat rushed up your neck and flooded your cheeks. Had you really been that obvious- besides just today?

"Oh I- I'm sorry I-" you stammered.

"Maybe you'd like to do more than watch?" she asked, not allowing you to finish your pathetic attempt at an apology.

"What? I- You mean…" Why were words suddenly so fucking hard?

"Let me take you out to dinner tonight."

Oh, that's not what you thought she meant. Of course she didn't mean anything like that.

"I'd really like that,” you replied sheepishly and finally looked up at her with a small smile.

Yeah? Hmm," she hummed. Then she leaned over and brought her mouth to your ear. "Then maybe afterward we can go to your place for dessert?"

AN: I feel like a lot of what I write is incredibly cheesy/corny. I'm such a dork. I'm sorry. 😭 Sevika would like a dorky gf though. At least that's what I tell myself. Lol

[olderthannetfic]

I do love this season just because the wank that you can see emerge in FFA. The most recent one of course is from BFE and Yuletide! For anyone who did not know:

In 12-25-2023, someone made a comment in a treat they received, saying that there were "issues" with their main gift and that the treay literally saved their day. Of course nonnies would investigate this! What was so wrong with the main gift? What were the issues? Obviously something about the recip DNWs, right?

Well... No, not really.

The main gift was fine. It was a canon divergence AU, that the recip okayed in their letter. It was also whump about the fave character of the recip, also okayed.

So, perhaps, a new DNW? That's a possibility, it happens! And nonnies leave it at that... Until fucking 01-01-2024 came and the recip commented on the main gift... Fucking. Stupid. The recip complained that the fic was an AU, and that that was the issue. The problem: they okayed CANON DIVERGENCE AUs, they did not want "AUs that change everything, like coffee shops" and the like. The author responded the comment (yes, the comment moaning about this was left IN the fic) with screenshots of the letter, the DNW and what the recip okayed. The real issue? The recip does not know how to fucking write. Why on earth would you say "I'm okay with canon deviations/slightly alternate timelines" and then complain that the author DID a deviation from canon. That's not knowing how to write what you actually want.

The recip responded. "Well, congrats. You could have completely ruined someone's Yuletide." Then, they went to Twitter and wrote "I'm glad that it got me and not someone who is more deeply affected".

You are deeply affected. You went to thanks the treat as "saving your day", waited until authors revelations because of paranoia of the gift being "a revenge from Yuletide mods" (yeah, I'm serious), then complained in the FIC itself and went full shithead to the author pointing out your poorly worded letter, and then made bunch of tweets about it in what nonnies described as and "insufferable teacher about to send a formal complaint to the local administration" tone.

If y'all want to see this full, dememe "Dragonlance" (yes, it's from that fandom...). The first chunk of the wank is from 26/12, and the other chunk from 02/01.

Moral of the wank: really, write your DNW well. If you okay something and then receive that something and instead of reflecting that you poorly worded your yes and noes or you found a new DNW or whatever you choose to go to the author an be a full shithead, you really can't fucking complain and play the victim here. Thank god this person said it'd be their "last Yuletide". With recips like that I'd hate to participate at all.

--

Sheesh!

I've occasionally written my requests poorly and—even more occasionally—had this result in fic that wasn't to my taste, but there's no need to be a baby about it!

This sounds like a version of the "no extreme kinks" problem: People often assume everyone else understands some vague concept like "AUs that are too AU" or "Sad endings that are too sad" or "Kinks that are too kinky" without really trying to elaborate on what it is that bugs them. I admit it's not always easy to explain this succinctly, especially if you want to avoid the dread "Only write for me if you're skilled"-sounding letters, but most people can do better than this.

It sounds like maybe they have a weird idea about the boundary between "canon divergence" and "AUs that change everything".

[scarabsinthestardust]

I wanted to share a story. It's one of those distant memories that you mostly forget about until it gets dredged up, one way or another. Like those memories you block out until your therapist pushes you to look back, to search for whatever incident altered your mental state and and caused your initial trauma.

In middle and high school, I wrote a lot. I had countless notebooks filled with silly, fictional stories, mostly dumb fantasy stories about cliche "main character" girls with red eyes and emo vibes. I was more likely to be writing during class instead of actually paying attention. I'd never let anyone read them, though, except maybe a select one or two people.

I started writing a new piece, a fantasy about a kingdom of winged demons and the human girl who gets captured and imprisoned by them. Looking back now, it really was dumb. But it was going to be THE ONE. This was the one I was going to turn into a book. This is the one I would send to get published, that would make it onto the shelves at my local Barnes & Noble.

In my junior year of high school, I got into a relationship. I fell in love, gave up my virginity, etc. Ultimately, I stayed with him for three years. Even though he was never physically abusive, he definitely was on an emotional level. He would tear me down constantly. When I would share my dreams, things I wanted to do, things I strived for, he would tell me that I was being stupid and that it would never happen. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until later on down the road, after our relationship ended. When my loved ones would tell me I was in trouble, that he wasn't treating me right, I brushed it off. "He wouldn't do that. He loves me. That's just how we are with each other." When I did finally end it, it took three tries. I'd cave when he threatened to kill himself and I'd forgive him - a classic manipulation tactic. But I did finally get out, and moved on.

During this relationship, however, I was still writing. I'd reached 27 chapters of my book, probably hundreds of hours of work put into it. After an argument with my boyfriend, he went onto my laptop and erased all of it. I was young and didn't really know anything about "backing it up" at the time. So it was lost.

I tried to rewrite it, but I couldn't get it to flow again. Maybe it was because I was just so discouraged, but I couldn't get the words to come. So I stopped.

That was around 2011/2012. I didn't start trying to write again until December 2023.

It started with some silly video game fanfiction, but just writing again was making me feel a sense of happiness I hadn't really felt in a long time.

Then I found Greta Van Fleet, and immersed myself in that fandom. I fought a little, I guess against the stigma of a grown woman writing fanfiction about real people. I was embarrassed. But as the words and ideas started flowing again, a short little Jake fanfic turning into a multi-chapter story, I realized this was what I needed. So I kept going, kept expanding. I let someone read them, and she had nothing but good things to say, eventually convincing me to post it online.

I was terrified to put my writing out there publicly, for strangers to see, but the response has been awe-inspiring. To read all the lovely feedback from people that are AMAZING writers themselves, it was such a surreal feeling. And it's pushed me to keep going, even when it gets a little hard or I get stuck, I just keep writing. Because that's what I want to do, what I've always wanted to do.

So, to all the people that have taken the time to read what I've put out there, you're wonderful. I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.

[kal-sharok]

Hi!! If you’re willing to talk about it/up for it I’d love to hear more about the slavophobia BioWare has in relation to their dwarves. No pressure at all of course bc I’m sure it’s taxing, I’ve just not seen this before and would love a resource to reblog about it if that’s okay. Thank you love your blog ❤️

hello! im actually glad you asked, i'll try to be as coherent as possible 😅 and no u i love yr blog!!

i'd like to preface by saying i don't think bioware invented anti-slavic sentiment in games or in general and isn't the only company, game or otherwise, perpetuating it. it's found all over the western world, most notably in western europe (where we're still regarded as 2nd class citizens, pairs really well with imperialism towards people outside of europe imo), but it also gained a significant boost thanks to the red scare in usa in particular (and continues to thrive thanks to the absolute chokehold mediocre american media keeps everything else in the world in).

im also no social sciences expert, but i do have first-hand experience on the short end of the stick and a couple of books in my have read list so let's say im qualified to rant on 🤭 it turned out quite lengthy so i've hidden it under the cut below!

when it comes to bioware, the first hurdle is already at their utterly haphazard character naming policy. there's a considerable number of dwarves who bear names that range from mockingly slavic-esque to full-blooded backwater serbian, now in yr local fantasy rpg! examples:

gorim saelac. while i do appreciate they tried to give a dwarf a mountain-y name (gora is basically any kind of steep pile of rocks with trees and dew and wildlife over it), "gorim" is how you would say "i am burning" in multiple slavic languages. this is one of the rare ones that are not hurtful and are hilarious instead (and tbh naming him goran, which is what i assumed they were going for, would probably be more ridiculous in the long run. for example i still can't take jowan seriously despite my love for the mage origin bc someone really yassified jovan and thought nobody would notice. wrong!)

lucjan and myaja. these two (along with maybe wojech "we couldn't spell wojciech" ivo) are the classic example of non-slavs butchering the hell out of slavic names bc it suits them better, which is also something commonly experienced by all non-western cultures and communities and a worldwide sign of disrespect. the in-game pronunciation during the provings gave me a physical rash. "myaja" in particular is still in my top 5 wtf moments in origins bc 1) what kind of stroke induced spelling is that 2) it reminds me of kids speaking dialect A mocking kids' dialects B by adding y sounds (which is what set the dialects apart in the first place) at unnatural spots and 3) maja /ma-ya/ would've sufficed perfectly for ethnic coding if that was the sole purpose of her character. do better! sure it was 2009 but from the little i happen to know about the world beyond the atlantic, you're just bound to run into someone of slavic descent in alberta (maybe not exactly polish but anyone would give you a closer phonetics match than... this). it's kind of amusing how 3 of bioware's founders have very slavic surnames and this keeps happening.

bogdan vasca. we don't know anything about him apart from the fact bianca davri was forced into a marriage with him and that his very dwarven parents considered him to be 'a gift from the god' (which is what his name means. theodore would be an equivalent) when naming him. the same clan of dwarves that preserved castes topside (which is why the marriage was arranged) and thus are likely to either believe in the stone (that they do not worship as a god) or nothing, certainly not a very human god with a very human, quite possibly mage (a completely alien concept from common dwarven pov) prophetess and a very human doctrine of considering anyone not human as lesser. the jokes are writing themselves at this point.

all of this naming business falls more into petty territory rather than being outright offensive, but it does bring us to the more serious manifestation — typecasting. the western media simply cannot fathom slavic people in roles that are not violent, volatile (i.e. berserkers, though there are other influences in there), constantly infighting and better off killing e/o (i.e. the diamond quarter, the merchants' guild, the carta) and relating back to thievery, addictive abusable substances and trafficking (i.e. the carta, but also official channels of lyrium supply from orzammar to the rest of thedas). as a slavic woman, it was exceptionally painful to see bioware join virtually everyone else in depicting us as women whose major purpose seems to be to engage in prostitution and surrogacy lite (i.e. noble hunters, most evident in beraht's grooming of rica brosca into the role of one). while these practices are tied to societies of woman-hating — and orzammar, if not all of thedas very much is one — i just take incredible offence in someone naming them integral (dwarven birth rates and the blight anyone?? i hated every moment of that) for a society that's previously been coded with people like myself in mind. of course im going to relate to how someone who looks like me is treated, that's the very purpose of casting. doesn't help bioware's cause that the bulk of npc's with slavic names tend to be lower-caste or castless - with exceptions such as some minor noble houses (houses ivo and harrowmont, possibly meino too) and branka (who's again smith-born and a whole villain).

by only allowing us to fulfill such roles, we are effectively barred from actually engaging storytelling to spend our eternity on the writers' back-burner. hell, even the witcher has been sanitized for the western eye (despite literally being made in poland) and i am yet to find a piece of modern media that doesn't reduce baba yaga to a quirky chicken-legged aesthetic (while also forgetting she's specific to the eastern slavic people). not to mention that if tevinter and par vollen are truly inspired by byzantine and the ottoman empire respectively, guess which mfs were both their vasals. now guess who built the deep roads and guess what tevene mages need to fuel their magic. if dwarves have already been declared the slavs of thedas, let's at least give them/us some space to be such.