#because how is it even possible to ask less of people

[chipped-chimera]

Okay psych nerd here who is not going to bloat this with a tag explanation and instead just write the thing:

The answer is two things -

Dehumanization / Distancing from Humanity

Moral Psychology

Here's an example in action. So I'm sure everyone knows about the Trolley Problem - you are standing near a train track at the track switch, an out of control train barrelling down the rails. On one of the tracks, are a group of men working on the rails (or tied to the rails if you prefer the image version). If you do nothing, it will collide with the group of people and kill them. On the other hand, if you use the switch and change the track, it'll instead kill just one person. This one people can reasonably complete, the usual choice being kill one to save five or whatever.

But here is another version. The Fat Man Trolley Problem (not my wording). In this version of the Trolley Problem, you are standing on a bridge overpass of a traintrack. Next to you is a very large man. Below you, are the five workmen. The train is out of control, but you realise if you push the fat man off the bridge and onto the track, his mass will be enough to stop the train and save the five people on the track. What do you do?

Naturally, this one prompted visceral reactions from people it was pitched to in studies - which begs the question, how is this version different from the switch problem? In both problems, you have the choice to sacrifice one to save many, but the mere thought of having to physically push another person onto the tracks crosses a line.

That's because a switch distances you from the situation, in a sense, you are removed from the humanity in the decision making and it's pure logic. Harm is a side-effect of flicking the switch, in a way you are less involved. Having to push the man, however, is forcing you to confront the human-ness of the situation, to look someone in the face and make that decision.

A lot of the problems in the world, and their respective government entities who are supposed to be fixing them, often have zero experience in the very thing they're supposed to be solving. They're sitting in an office, far, far away looking at a bunch of numbers spat out by a consulting agency while there are homeless in the streets. The switch they pull is so far away they can't even see the people their decisions affect. And if they think less of the people they are making decisions over, like the very, very, very obviously misplaced idea that homelessness is somehow caused by moral failing - that will distance them from the humanity of the situation even further.

I think back to an article I read about someone who had lost their husband to suicide after many, many, many years struggling, went to a conference regarding mental health. The participants of this conference would be the ones making major decisions that would affect the health and outcomes of other people. She confronts one of them, and asks them - have you ever been affected by depression? have you ever had someone in your family been affected?

He seemed shocked and startled. But he answered no.

That should say everything. Anyway this is why I think it should be mandatory for anyone forming country-wide, dramatically-impactful policies in government, especially regarding minorities and poverty - should have a MANDATORY amount of hours they have to spend per year with said people who will be affected by their decisions. And none of this distanced hand shaking for the cameras, I mean living that experience as closely as possible.

It's not that humanity is dead. It's not that we get up with the intention of causing harm every day. It's just a fact of psychological distancing that causes us to lose our connection with it. This can be unintentional, but sometimes it is intentional. It's often a tactic in war propaganda, to cast the enemy in such an evil light that the idea of killing many to protect or save your people - even if it's women and children, and disabled and elderly people, and civilians - is somehow justified.

So the next time you vote or support a cause or whatever in your life that may end up influencing the situation of people, outside of your known experience - stop for a moment, and have a think about what it is like for those individuals. If you had to physically go to them, and look them in the eyes - would you make the same decisions?

Also vote for people with lived experience into those positions to make the decisions when you can!

It confuses me how normalized it is to be so anti human. The fact that two countries voted no to food being a human right. The fact so many people are against universal healthcare. The fact that it’s normal to believe some people don’t deserve housing because they’re poor, addicts, mentally ill, or any combination of the above. I find it so hard to comprehend that humans who have experienced hunger, thirst, cold, and illness would wish these things upon others, or at the very least not care. It frustrates me beyond belief.

These are the exact values we’re taught as children, to believe all humans are equal in worth and needs, and yet at some point you’re expected to grow out of that illusion. You’re expected to accept that this is what life’s like, that the world is unfair, and attempting to fix it makes you weak and childish.

[peachylynnie]

ace

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: in which sylus defies all logic and odds, just for you.

contains: part 2 of blackjack, sylus x fem!reader (non mc, first time meeting), slightly obsessive sylus, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of weapons and violence, and gambling (know the rules of blackjack).

a/n: in blackjack, you want to get as close as you can to 21 without going over. to bust means to go over 21. to stay means to stay with the cards you have. you can tap for more cards or wave to stay. a natural (best outcome) means you immediately get 21 with your initial cards. but, you don't have to get to 21 to win. so long as the dealer has a worse hand than you, you win. essentially, it's a game against the dealer, not the people you play with. reblogs & comments are appreciated.

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sylus has never lost in blackjack before.

he's mastered every gambling card game for the sake of business deals and corrupt clients. and yet, here you are, spitting at his mastery as you flip another twenty, forcing him to either stay at his nineteen or risk a bust. and sylus never stays or busts in blackjack.

while your hands question almost every statistic and probability out there, your expression is what truly does it for him. even though you've only been winning, you haven't shown a trace of happiness or any other emotion normally present at a poker table. there's nothing when your opponents raise their bets, nothing when you win their bets, and infuriatingly nothing when your silver-haired opponent leans on the table and gazes at you hungrily after you take his chips for the umpteenth time tonight.

chuckling to himself, sylus can't help but think, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours? what will it take for you to look at him with half the interest he's looking at you with right now?

"because the lounge closes in less than thirty minutes," you gesture to the clock, snapping the silver-haired man out of his thoughts. "this will be the final round."

you hand a deck of cards to sylus, signaling him to shuffle. he takes it from you, trying not to shudder when his finger grazes yours.

sherman and his lackey groan upon checking how many chips they have left. "and here i thought blackjack was the easiest game against the house," the former complains as he lights a cigar.

"perhaps," the latter starts carefully, "we can wager something different this round." he shares a knowing look with his boss before turning to sylus. "what do you think, mr. sylus?"

sylus sighs as he finishes shuffling the deck. that idiot messed up his shuffle. great, now he looks like an idiot to you. "what would you like to wager?" he huffs as he places the deck in front of you.

"the deal, sylus," sherman snaps. "if i win, we have a deal."

sylus laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. seems like the imbecile finally decided to drop his friendly act. "and what will your little employee wager?" he asks with faux curiosity.

"that depends on the lady in front of us, mr. sylus," the man in question answers before licking his lips at you. "say, miss dealer. if i win, how about you accompany mr. sherman and me back to a hotel nearby? we promise you'll be thoroughly compensated."

the head of onychinus stands up swiftly, his hands curling into fists. he should have seen this coming. the knowing look sherman and his lackey shared earlier wasn't just a shot at trapping him into a deal; it was an attempt at you and who knows what nauseating desires. before he can pummel the two men into the ground, you speak.

"i'm afraid that won't be possible, gentlemen," you pick up a chip and flip it between your knuckles. "the main objective of blackjack is to beat the dealer, not to win exclusively." your eyes never leave the chip. "for example, what will happen to your wagers if only i win?" you place the chip down. "in other words, multiple wagers are useless in blackjack due to its main objective."

sylus smirks as he sits down, pride blooming in his chest. not only were you good at blackjack, but you were also good at navigating your way in and out of technicalities. oh, he's definitely buying you a drink after this. you earned it. besides, he's curious to know what a talented little lamb like you is doing in the n109 zone. maybe a drink or two will soften you up and lay your mind bare.

"what would you suggest, miss dealer?" sherman questions angrily, his eye twitching. "you're impossible to beat, and unfortunately," he chucks a gun onto the table, "i'm not walking away without a deal."

sylus tenses. you don't flinch.

"change the main objective," you eloquently respond as you reach for the deck of cards sylus shuffled. "the three of you will play against each other, and whoever gains a blackjack or the hand closest to it will have their wager fulfilled." you fingers never slip as you pass out the cards. "while a tie may be possible, the likelihood will be drastically reduced, as you will no longer be playing to beat me." your braid your fingers and rest them against your stomach, your eyes unwavering. "you will be playing to win."

while sherman and his lackey mull over your proposal, sylus takes a sip from his glass, his eyes glued to you. what could you possibly gain from this? no bets you can profit from have been placed. not to mention your choice to stay out of this round just cost you your chance to prevent sherman and his lackey from fulfilling their profane desires. his brows furrow, no longer enjoying the feeling nor taste of fizz on his tongue. this entire night you've only led him in circles, forcing him to deal with your unpredictable actions and signature indifference. does he hate this? fuck no. your antics give him a sense of desire, a drive—something he's been severely lacking for a while.

but, sylus' patience is wearing thin. he swears if he can't get you to look at him with anything but that damned emptiness, he's going to force his way into your eyes until they are filled to the brim with nothing but him, him, him.

"mr. sylus?" sherman's lackey snaps him out of his thoughts. "your wager?"

"ah," sylus places his glass down, ignoring the cracks forming on it from how tightly he was gripping it. "if i win-"

he pauses, noticing something.

"miss dealer, why did you give yourself cards? i thought you weren't playing," he inquires with a tilt of his head.

"i gave myself cards to stay true to the dealing rules of blackjack," you answer calmly, extending your arm towards sherman's cards to begin the game. "don't worry, mr. sylus. i won't be playing this round, only dealing. my cards are facedown, after all."

sylus inhales sharply. you said his name. you said his name for the first time. and fuck, did it feel so good to hear it on your tongue.

"stay or hit, mr. sherman?" you option the man. he has an ace of spades and a seven of hearts, giving him eighteen. the man takes another puff of smoke before tapping the table. "a hit," you confirm before flipping a four of clubs. the man curses loudly, sputtering on his cigar. "too high," you declare as you immediately move on to his lackey.

"stay or hit?" you repeat. the lackey has an ace of hearts and an eight of clubs, giving him nineteen. the man sighs before waving a hand. "stay," you confirm before turning to sylus.

you still upon seeing his cards. a ten of diamonds and a nine of spades, bringing him to tie with sherman's lackey. so much for the likelihood of a tie being dramatically reduced. you exhale before asking, "stay or hit?"

"hm," sylus hums. he could technically stay and walk away with a tie. sherman won't be selling him fake protocores since he lost, and his lackey won't get his way with you since he tied. besides, hitting would be risky since the chances of getting a two are barely one percent, and the chances of getting an ace are either four or two percent, depending on what you have.

sylus tilts his head, realizing something.

"miss dealer, may i look at your cards?"

"i don't see why not," you say after a few seconds, ignoring sherman and his lackey's complaints.

"thank you, miss dealer," he purrs, reaching for your cards. "you won't regret it."

you don't say anything. you just cross your arms and lean against the table, resuming your unconcerned demeanor.

sylus grins after flipping your cards. an ace of diamonds and a ten of diamonds. you had a fucking blackjack. for the nth time of the night, you drew another natural. there's no way he's letting you go after this, not after you reduced his chances of getting an ace from four to two percent.

at this point, you've already realized why sylus wanted to see your cards. he was trying to gauge his chances of getting an ace, but since you had the third one from the deck, his chances were now fatally low. not to mention, his chances of getting a two were also low, meaning staying was the best option. you reach for his cards, hoping to clean up and get the fuck out of the n109 zone because you know from the depraved looks he's been giving you, prolonging your stay would be dangerous.

but what you don't know is the type of person sylus is. he's the type of person to spit in the face of fate, probabilities, and every distinct concept known to dictate humanity. people don't call him a "relentless conqueror" for nothing. unfortunately for you, this man has found something he relentlessly wants to conquer: your fucking attention. he makes that very clear when he taps the table.

and god, is he glad he decided to hit because you finally reacted to him.

your once-indifferent eyes were now faltering with uncertainty. your once-crossed arms were now hanging loosely at your sides. your once-relaxed voice was now quivering as you asked, "i'm sorry, a hit?"

sylus runs a finger upon his lips, trying to control his manic grin. oh, you looked utterly confused, and he was all for it. never has he seen such a beautiful and enticing sight: you, pushed to the absolute brink with your eyes bewitchingly transfixed on him, trying to figure out why the hell he would hit when his chances of winning are painstakingly low.

"yes, sweetie." your brows furrow when he calls you that. "a hit," he confirms with a teasing smile.

you gape at him (yes, keep looking at him like that; fill your eyes with him and him only) for a few more seconds before reaching for a card. people just really like to gamble, you reason. there's no way an ace can come out of this. however, your lips can't help but part when you flip over the card.

an ace of clubs.

he won.

[stxrslutrestored]

party girl ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

starring; rafe cameron . sweetie!reader

synopsis; when you somehow end up in the hands of rafe cameron at a party, you find yourself trying all sorts of things that you’d never imagine yourself doing

content; use of cocaine, intox, slight coercion, dry humping, exhibitionism, taking of virginity (depending on how u view virginity), topper and kelce’s existence 

note; trying a new layout to match my new theme

“uhm… I think I’m just gonna go find my friends.” you try to excuse yourself from the conversation you’d find yourself caught up in with rafe cameron, you’d heard from many that he would be very bad news for you. 

he chuckles, “oh, nah,” he shakes his head, smirking down at you, “you don’t even know where your friends are. a girl like you shouldnt be walkin’ around all alone at a party like this, why don’t you come sit with me and my crowd huh?” 

you hesitate for a moment, the more rational side of your head thinking you definitely shouldn’t follow and alleged drug addicted psycho and possible murderer to his second location. the less rational side is thinking that you don’t want to be wondering around for ages looking for your friends, as it would be easier to just go with rafe and hope for the best. 

you eventually nod shyly, “okay, i guess..” you look down as rafe smiles and starts to lead you through the party, you follow him all the way downstairs to a corner where there are multiple chairs and couches placed around a coffee table that is scattered with cups, plastic baggies, pills and powder. 

rafe leads you to one of the couches, sitting down in what was presumably his spot before he went on the detour on which he acquired you. there isn’t any more space on the couch so you make to perch on the arm next to rafe, he smiles up at you. 

one of his friends – you recognise him as kelce – speaks up, “what’chu doin’ here sweetheart?” his voice is loud and yet barely audible over the buzz of the party around you. “didn’t think you were the type for this scene.” 

you shake your head timidly, doing your best to speak up and answer him, “rafe brought me,” you tell him, “i lost my friends.” kelce smirks, so does rafe’s other friend topper and you watch all three of the boys exchange looks you can’t tell the intention of.

you feel quite out of place as the men around you are all completely comfortable. they are loud and rowdy, all of them drinking or doing lines or both. you are drinking a pink fruity cocktail that you didn’t actually want for the alcohol and only asked for because it was cute and you could. 

you feel scared to chime into the conversations, so you end up not speaking until you’re finally spoken to. rafe turns up to you, that same wicked smirk plastered across his lips, “you ever done a line sweetheart?” he asks, voice carrying a suggestive tone. 

you immediately shake your head, “of course not. that stuff is so bad for you… i couldn’t ever destroy my body like that.” you say confidently, but then immediately realise your mistake of criticising the use of drugs, in a room full of people who do drugs, everyone is looking at you now. you smile uncomfortably, “but i don’t mind that you guys do it.. that’s.. just fine.” 

rafe chuckles, patting your shoulder, “no you’re right. shits terrible for the body,” he affirms your point, “feels too good to stop though.” he finishes, before leaning down to snort another line off the table. 

topper looks up to you, “maybe you should try some,” he suggests, “would make you understand us, not be so quick to judge.” he smiles smugly up at you. 

“i’m not sure,” you rush out, “i don’t know if my tolerance will be good enough for coke.” you try to make an excuse. rafe sits up, looking right up to you, his hand comes up to wrap around your shoulder, making it hard for you to not slip off the arm of the couch and land in his lap. 

rafe speaks, “nah it’s not that bad.” he assures, “toppers right. why don’t you try it, to expand your horizons.” 

you shake your head, “I couldn’t possibly—“ but rafe cuts you off, clearly set on his motive now. 

“just a little bit,” he smiles, holding a line on his thumb, right there for you to accept. you feel like you can’t say no. 

“I don’t know how to do it,” you inform him and he chuckles, patting his leg. with everyone watching there’s really not much you can do, so you scoot over to sit on his lap, looking around the room self consciously. 

rafe chuckles, lining his hands up under your nose, “when I say, you just sniff, okay?” he says and you nod timidly. a few seconds pass and then rafe speaks, “go.” you immediately sniff, scrunching your face up as you feel the powder go up your nose. you feel the urge to sneeze but you just about manage to hold it back.

rafe smiles, rubbing your back as the others around the table cheer just a little. it’s already starting to hit you, the high, its weird, like everything is a bit distorted, sounds muffled, faces blurred, you feel good. 

soon you’re the highest in the room, despite probably being the one on the least substance. you’re now completely comfortable in rafe’s lap, leaning against his chest and almost constantly giggling at something in passing. 

something else is happening too, you’re starting to shed, that means you are beginning to want to get more comfortable, first taking your hair down and then removing your coat, now you want to take off the tights under your dress. with no social awareness due to the fact that well, youre up in the clouds, you stand from rafe’s lap and begin to pull them down as if undressing yourself. 

“woah there,” topper laughs, “bit forward don’t you think.” he jokes, looking to kelce as they both laugh at your behaviour. rafe smiles up at you, a different look in his eyes. 

“getting hot there?” he asks and you nod, assuming he’s referring to temperature. “need somethin’ to calm you down a little bit? i think you do.” 

you frown, “like what?” 

rafe smiles and leans back on the couch, spreading his legs and patting his leg, “come here and get yourself off.” he says, it’s blunt and forward and surprising. but in your drug addled mind, it just doesn’t take you aback.

almost without hesitation you start to approach, the only thing that makes you stop and think is topper and kelce in the back, laughing and saying something about ‘oh shit she’s really about to do it,’ and ‘didn’t think his plan would really work.’ 

you only look back for a second though, you decide fuck it! you climb into rafe’s lap, straddling him. you lean into his chest and without second thought you start to grind against his crotch. the material of his pants is rough against your pussy that is only covered by your thin little panties.

but you allow yourself to forget that, and soon you’re losing yourself in the feeling of deep, pleasurable stimulation. your head is thrown back and you’re moaning out loud, uncaring of the looks you get from all over the room. 

its minutes of total bliss for you until you finally reach an orgasm, you nearly scream in pleasure. you’re so high and happy that you don’t even register the fact that this is the first ever orgasm you’ve experienced. 

when you’re done with your moment of bliss you flop into rafe’s chest, completely spent and ready to crash from your high. the last thing you hear before basically passing out is something from toppers mouth, “guess she really is a party girl.” 

[tanadrin]

I am sorry for the anon but I feel too vulnerable to come off due to the nature of my question.

I am slowly losing friends due to my refusal to engage in negative/nihilistic/doomer views of the future. My friends are 1000% convinced Trump and Republicans are going to crash the economy on purpose, leading to a depression, and carry out a Gilead situation. I told one of my friends the other day how, despite everything and the political situation, I am trying to be as positive as possible - or at least neutral. Her response to me was, "Why? I don't understand your optimism. You know they're going to enslave us all like in The Handmaid's Tale, right?" and it has become so dreadful now to interact with them. Anytime I disagree, they try to intellectually dominate me or put me under them in a way where I have no choice but to just leave the conversation.

I know this was a lot. But is there any advice you might have for someone like me? Because I sometimes feel like I am being painted as crazy. I know things will be hard but they genuinely want me to believe I have no future and I can't stand that.

Also, would it be too much to ask if you maybe mind sharing some of the other people/blogs you follow?

I once heard advice on dealing with Qanon family members who had fallen down the rabbit hole and only ever wanted to talk about conspiracy theories or the outrage bait they'd seen on Fox News or OANN or whatever, about not challenging them on their views but basically saying "I don't want to talk about this; let's talk about our plans for the weekend, or what movie we wanna go see later, or what interesting books you've read lately." The idea being, arguing with someone can only further entrench their beliefs, and if you really want to shake someone out of their dismal universe of conspiracism, it helps to remind them of all the things that aren't the fear-and-anger-activating content they're stuffing their brains with for hours every day.

Maybe something like this could help? I have a hard time imagining that someone really believes The Handmaid's Tale really is just around the corner--if you really believed that, surely you would be trying to flee to Canada or doing some political volunteer work or something--and sometimes doomer stuff can be kind of reflexive or phatic, like making a crack about how your retirement plan is to die in the water wars or something. But even if it isn't, I don't think there's any point in trying to argue about this stuff in the moment. Instead try to build on the things you still find fulfilling in that friendship, the conversations and interests and activities with those friends that caused you to become friends in the first place.

If you can't do that--if hanging out with them is always a constant grind of full-throttle doomerism, and they express no interest in actually trying to do something with their feelings of anger and frustration--you are perfectly within your rights to spend less time around them. You could, if you wanted to and you felt that you owed them at least that, give them a heads up as to why. If a close friend of mine or a family member was doing this, I would certainly talk to them about it. But your obligation to subject yourself to someone else's self-destructive idee fixe is not bottomless. Even with a partner you are within your rights to eventually say "I'm not going to talk about this with you anymore."

(And that's not only true of politics or conspiracy theories, by the way! If you have a close friend or family member or partner who--for example--has severe depression but refuses to seek treatment for it, you are not obligated to be the sponge for their misery forever every time they need someone to talk to. If someone in your life is in a relationship or a job that is making them miserable, and won't do anything to leave that relationship or find a new job, and just wants a friend to complain to, you are within your rights to eventually shut that down. Lots of people fall into a holding pattern in their life where they are unhappy but unable to do anything about it, and they will make this their friends' or loved ones' problem. That doesn't make them bad people: lord knows I have found myself doing this before. It's a very human thing to do. But sometimes the Good Friend Thing is to say "I love you, and will support you if you want to actually *do something* about your situation, but otherwise, oh my god shut the fuck up." But, you know, nicely.)

But if your friends want to make themselves miserable because hanging on to an endless stream of toxicity and doomerism from social media (and I will bet this is primarily coming from social media) is more important to them than your friendship, and they can't handle you not agreeing with them, you may lose them as friends. If you do, I'm sorry. That sucks. It's hard to lose friends, and it's even harder later in life when making new friends is more difficult, and I don't want to pretend like that's not a big deal.

[antianakin]

So I intentionally ignored Anakin in this particular AU because I've ended up derailing other AUs a little by attempting to work around The Anakin Problem, and I wanted to focus on Padme and her healing through this other relationship this time, so I left Anakin out of it for the most part.

That being said, while I definitely think Anakin would probably be SELF destructive and possibly destructive towards other relationships and maybe his career, I don't think he'd ever get to the extreme of "the Jedi Temple is in smoldering ruins" without Palpatine genuinely asking him to attack it. And even if Anakin DID attempt to just... attack the Jedi for some reason, he wouldn't have the clone army to back him up, and he'd end up doing IMMENSELY less damage and he'd be unlikely to even be able to leave the Temple. I'm sure he COULD kill some of them, especially if he caught them by surprise or went after primarily younglings or padawans, but at some point he'd end up overwhelmed and surrounded by adult Jedi and caught. There is absolutely no way Anakin would be able to single-handedly reduce the Temple to smoldering ruins and walk away from that. There just isn't.

And the inevitable outcome of that would likely not be the Jedi saying "okay well you're officially no longer a Jedi, get out of here" and just sending him out into the world. For one, that's just supremely un-Jedi-like, and for two, it's pretty stupid and dangerous. If Anakin manages to only kill Jedi, they would probably keep it internal, put Anakin on some kind of house arrest thing where he's forced to speak to a mind healer or something to try to figure out what the fuck just went wrong and how to help him in order to keep it from happening again before he'd be allowed to leave the Temple. Of course, if Anakin decides to just leave the Order, they wouldn't be able to stop him from leaving of his own volition, but at that point they might be able to make it the Republic's issue because now Anakin would kind-of count as a civilian who murdered Jedi. If Anakin kills people who AREN'T Jedi but work at the Temple, then it goes to the Republic automatically (we see this with Ahsoka during the Wrong Jedi arc). And I don't see that going super well for Anakin.

I also don't really know why Anakin falling immediately to the dark side because of Padme leaving him would cause him to attack the Jedi Temple. This doesn't really help him in any way. But even if we go with the assumption that if he immediately fell to the dark side as a result of Padme leaving him, that he'd attack the Jedi Temple, I don't think he'd actually completely SUCCEED and he'd face some pretty serious consequences that would likely keep him from being able to just march off to somehow single-handedly take out an entire PLANET (a planet that does now have a standing army among the Gungans, don't forget). Anakin could easily let his anger consume him and take it out on the people around him, or go to Naboo and maybe take it out on Padme or her family, for sure, but let's look at an alternative option that doesn't actually end with anybody dead.

Anakin IS angry when Padme leaves him, but since this is a happy fix-it AU, Palpatine isn't an option for him to go to anymore. So it just gets bottled up for a while until Obi-Wan decides enough is enough and actually reveals what he knows more explicitly than we know he does in canon, to push Anakin to just fucking TALK. And talk he does. He yells, actually, about the secret marriage, about how Padme betrayed him, about everything. Maybe about how he thinks it's Obi-Wan's fault or the Jedi's fault that he couldn't be with her openly. And it's a lot, so Obi-Wan realizes Anakin needs more help than he can personally provide, but also that there is no way Anakin is going to take kindly to the suggestion to see a mind healer, so he comes up with a way to sort-of... maybe trick Anakin into it. Maybe he manages to convince Anakin into a mission somewhere, to just get them AWAY from Coruscant and the memories of Padme, but also nowhere near Tatooine or Naboo. Somehow whatever happens on the mission leads to Anakin calming down just enough to agree to go see the mind healers so that he can be the kind of person Padme would agree to take back. And so he does. But after a while, he realizes that... maybe he doesn't need Padme. Maybe his relationship with Padme isn't something he should go back to. Maybe there's a LOT of things in his life he needs to re-examine and re-evaluate.

And so Anakin doesn't chase down Padme, he doesn't murder anybody, because he finally managed to accept that he needed help and GOT IT and the lack of Palpatine's terrible influence starts to clear his mind more and give room for the Jedi to make a bigger impact.

And maybe they do meet up again years and years later, by pure coincidence. And Padme's not certain how he'll react. It's been so long since she's seen him and she hasn't kept any tabs on him or kept in contact with the other Jedi in order to receive updates on him, so the last thing she knew, he'd been furious with her. She's incredibly pleasantly surprised when he calmly offers an apology for his behavior the last time they'd met and says he'll understand if she won't forgive him and never wants to talk to him again. Padme's not in love with him anymore, and she can tell there's no real danger of feeling that way a second time, but she'd loved him once and wanted to help him once, so she accepts his apology and the two of them are able to talk about what happened. Padme realizes she owes him an apology in return, because the way she'd handled his mother's death and what he'd done was so clearly the wrong choice in hindsight, and she never should've given in and married him when she'd known neither of them could truly commit to it. It had been selfish of her, both times, even if she'd told herself it wasn't. Anakin tells her he'd never seen it that way or blamed her for his own choices, but that she has his forgiveness for any of her mistakes.

They part ways and never see each other again (I don't think their history would allow them to maintain a relationship with each other in a way that was super healthy or comfortable), but it allows their past together to heal so it can be more than just a painful memory. They can truly, fully move on from it now.

Happy fix-it AU where Padme leaves Anakin anyway because she realizes how bad he is for her, and she ends up retiring because she REALLY doesn't want to be a Senator anymore (it was also maybe encouraged by her Queen after her secret marriage to a Jedi was discovered) and she goes back to Naboo to be with her family. She's left behind her responsibilities but she doesn't know what to do now, she's just... adrift, sort-of in limbo and mourning her relationship with Anakin. She has to keep convincing herself not to go back to him because she KNOWS she doesn't want that anymore, she KNOWS she doesn't want to be the person she was with him again, but the thrill of the secret marriage to someone who was so passionate about being with her is also sort-of like a drug.

Her parents both offer to let her come help them in their respective jobs, but she doesn't really have the energy for that right now. She DOES like helping Sola with her nieces because their energy and innocence seems to be a balm for her heart. One day, Sola asks if Padme can take the kids to a local festival in Theed one day while she and her husband go do something else, and Padme agrees. The girls are old enough and Theed is safe enough that they can wander off on their own away from Padme as long as they know not to go TOO far and come back to her after a little while. As she peruses the different artwork on her own, one artist's work stands to her more than anyone else's, it just hits at the core of her and she's not even sure why. She stands in front of a painting of a bird in flight for what seems like hours, though it can't be more than a minute or two, before the artist himself comes over to speak to her.

He addresses her as Senator Amidala, and she quickly tells him that she's not a Senator anymore and she doesn't really want to go by the name Amidala either, she prefers just Padme these days. He agrees, and something about him, maybe his eyes, seems familiar but she can't quite put her finger on it. They talk about his art for a while and everything he says about his inspiration feels like it's speaking directly to her. Eventually, Pooja and Ryoo come up to her and start pulling at her hands, demanding that she come see something with them. Before she leaves, she finally realizes she didn't even know his name and asks him.

It's Palo. The first boy she'd ever loved. The last time she'd seen him she'd been twelve in the Legislative Youth Program. She knew he'd left politics to become an artist instead, but she'd never actually seen any of his art before or ever tried to get back in contact with him. Now she wishes she had. Pooja and Ryoo are still pulling her away so she doesn't have time to really get over her shock at this revelation before she has to leave him behind and someone else comes up to ask him a question in her place.

He shows up at her parents' door the next day with the painting of the bird she'd so adored, and offers it to her as a gift. He refuses to accept any payment for it no matter how much she insists, but asks if she'd be willing to take a walk with him instead. She agrees. They end up spending the whole day together, just talking. For the first time, Padme doesn't feel like she's drowning in her own feelings or floating with no direction. She feels a lot like she's finally come home.

[genderqueerdykes]

I rlly love ur blog and the content you've made partially because of the educating parts of it and also all the support and just great stuff on here.

Especially some of ur stuff about men/masc ppl because before this I felt rlly guilty to transition (even tho I'm nb and not a FTM) because it felt like in some way I was giving up femininity and instead joining the side of the more 'evil' gender bc I'd kinda be raised to see a lot of more masc ppl as being more harmful and I never wanted to be that but I feel like ur posts have rlly made me feel less guilt about my own identity and masculinity in general so thank you for that :)

isn't that so sad, like, nobody should ever make you feel that way

i can't stop stressing to people that that's literal rad fem behavior that people are displaying when they respond to trans men and mascs like this. it's affecting people in real time and we need to care. like if so many people are saying this, it's a huge issue and we can't ignore it any longer. i will continue to publish every ask i possibly can on this topic because i feel like there's literally no better way to show how this is fucking people up in REAL TIME and how we need to care

i'm glad you feel better, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being masculine at all. masculinity isn't what hurt people. it's toxic masculinity. it's patriarchy. masculinity is fine. femininity isn't inherently safe. feminine people can abuse. feminine people can be dangerous. everyone is parroting rad fem beliefs. it's sad. people need to stop

good luck, if you need any help, feel free to come by again at any point, you deserve to live your best life

[vilevenom]

This has become a series of non-chronological one-shots of Shadow living with Stone, lol Also, this was vaguely inspired by this adorable comic here, because Shadow deserves an emotional support animal.

Heart Still Made of Gold

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (movie universe)

Pairing/Characters: Agent Stone & Shadow

Summary: Shadow hated rainy days. Or, Stone's apartment is rapidly becoming a home for wayward souls.

It was the sort of day that Shadow had come to loath since being woken up from his fifty year slumber. The sky was overcast in shades of drab gray, while rain didn't so much as fall, rather it wafted through the air on the wind, making it nearly impossible to avoid, no matter how much rain gear you wore. The only saving grace, in the dark hedgehog's opinion, was that it was far enough into April that the truly bitter, biting cold that accompanied the rain in late winter wasn't also present to make the day even more miserable. All in all, it made him all the more grateful to be sat indoors, reading in the corner of the Mean Bean, rather than scouring around in such weather for food and shelter.

"Shadow! Can you take the trash out from the cafe? I've got a line of customers, and could really use your help," Stone called from the front counter with a wave. At least half a dozen people were milling about the cafe, obviously in various states of waiting for their order, illustrating Stone's inability to step away from what he was doing to empty the very obviously overflowing garbage can on the cafe floor.

Shadow let out an exasperated sigh, but carefully tucked his borrowed book mark into the novel he'd been reading, while sliding down from his spot on the overstuffed wingback chair he'd claimed that morning when they'd come down to the cafe to start the day. It was Shadow's favorite spot in the Mean Bean, with how it was angled towards the front window, rather than the main cafe floor, and allowed him at least some semblance of privacy away from prying eyes with the way the wings blocked most of his face, despite his shorter stature. It was also in such a position in the shop that it was easy for him to slip to and from the back of the cafe without having to maneuver through the mingling customers that stood around sipping at their overpriced lattes. He debated leaving his book on the chair to save his spot, but ultimately decided it would be best to hide it in the back, instead. Stone was beginning to look haggard as he worked the till and the machines, so Shadow figured he should probably help his host by cleaning and restocking what he could, so the ex-agent would have less to do later.

Unlike his blue counter-part, who would most likely zip through the cafe haphazardly to get as much work done as quickly as possible, Shadow opted to tend to the cafe at a regular pace, enjoying the meditative relaxation being useful and helpful often brought. He started with replacing the garbage bag in the cafe, as he'd been asked, setting it near the back door to take out later. Once that was done, he moved on to the other garbage bags behind the counter and back room, then after a quick wash of his hands (Stone had explained to him in great detail the importance of washing one's hands before working behind the counter, and cross contamination), he moved on to refilling coffee beans, syrups and the ice machine. He then took up the bussing tub and headed into the cafe, pointedly ignoring the soft coos and quiet comments several of the customers failed to stifle behind hands as he cleared the tables of dirty dishes and trash. He and Stone had both been somewhat surprised by the amount of customers that had begun to come to the Mean Bean because of the 'cute mascot', given Shadow's very public destruction of part of Tokyo, but it seemed that certain people really didn't care. However, since even the most enthusiastic of Shadows fans hand yet to try and touch or approach him, and Stone got more business, the hedgehog decided he could suffer the quiet murmurs that followed him around.

Once the dishwasher was loaded up and running, Shadow turned to the garbage with a sigh, already dreading having to go outside. Luckily, though, with the chores he'd done around the cafe, and the afternoon rush all but over, he would be able to go upstairs to the apartment once he was done and get comfortable on the couch with the blanket Stone had gifted him, where it was dry and warm.

"Let's get this over with," he grumbled to himself, gathering up the bags and shoving his way out into the damp, chilly alleyway with a grunt.

He'd nearly missed the sound as he let the lid of the dumpster drop once the trash was inside, but his keen ears were better than most, allowing him to pick up on the pathetic sounding mewl that emanated from under the dumpster. His ear swiveled in curiosity as he tilted his head, standing stalk still as he strained to catch the sound again, taking a short step back as it happened again. With a light frown, Shadow knelt down, tipping sideways until he could see under the dumpster (his quills regretfully dipping into a puddle) where a tiny black kitten sat, drenched to the bone. It stared back at Shadow with huge yellow eyes, letting out another sad little meow as a water drop fell onto its head from the bottom of the dumpster.

"Hello, little one," Shadow breathed, not entirely certain how he should approach getting the kitten out from its hiding place. It was too far back for him to reach, but he couldn't just leave it there. It was cold, and it was wet, and the back alley was no place to live. He happened to know that for a fact.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, heedless of how the rain was soaking his quills straight through as he wracked his mind for what he could use to lure the kitten out. After a beat he pushed himself up and trotted back inside, only to reappear not a moment later, slices of ham pilfered from the cafe's back kitchen in hand.

"I bet you're hungry," Shadow murmured, tucking himself as close to the dumpster as possible, his arm outstretched beneath it with his offering, "C'mon. I promise it's good."

Tentatively the kitten sniffed at the air, its ears perking forward at the smell of food nearby. It mewed quietly, slowly uncurling from where it had been huddled against the cold, before it began to inch towards Shadow.

"That's it," Shadow whispered, fearing scaring it away if he spoke too loudly, watching in rapt attention as the kitten crawled towards him at a snails pace. "Well done," he hummed with a soft chuckle, a small smile gracing his muzzle as the kitten made it to him hand and began to gobble up the bits of ham after a few hesitant sniffs. Once the meat was gone, the kitten gave a tiny, inquisitive trill, before it began to meander towards where Shadow was laid on the ground. The dark hedgehog dared not move as the kitten butted its little head against his arm, while it gave off the faintest of purrs, its affection obviously easily bought with food. But Shadow really couldn't care less, as the tiny thing crawled over his arm and wandered up to his face, giving his muzzle an affectionate lick.

With slow and careful movements, Shadow shifted until he could cup his hands around the kitten, gathering it to his chest as he sat up. Water dripped from his quills, his own fur soaked through, but he hoped that even the small shelter of his hands would help warm the kitten in comparison to the cold underside of the dumpster. He let his thumb brush over the kitten's head, his smile growing minutely as its purrs grew louder. "The world forgot about you, too, didn't it?" he muttered, licking rain water from his lips, "Don't worry. I won't."

"Shadow? Shadow! Where did you go?" Stone's voice came from the propped open door to the back room of the Mean Bean, his head poking through the opening a moment later. "There you are! Why are you sitting out here in the rain? And without your rain coat?"

Shadow didn't grace Stone with a verbal answer, instead rising to his feet and opening his hands just enough for the ex-agent to see what he held against his chest.

"Oh," Stone stared at the two for a moment, leaning against the door frame with a slight frown on his lips. For a brief moment Shadow was worried that Stone was going to tell him to put the kitten back where he'd found it, only to perk up at the exasperated sigh Stone let out, instead. Shadow was beginning to recognize that sound as one the ex-agent made whenever he was about to give in to whatever strange or ridiculous situation he found himself in. "Make sure to add kitten food and a litter box to the grocery list," he hummed, before stepping away from the door, "Now, come inside before you catch a cold."

"You'll let it stay?" Shadow asked, his tail giving a little wag as he stepped through the door.

"You two match. How could I say no?"

At that, Shadow glanced down with a confused frown, only to finally notice the kitten wasn't entirely black. A tuft of pure white fur puffed out from his chest, easily mimicking Shadow's own chest fur. He grinned, even as a towel was tossed over his head.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hot take: Cooper Howard was an avid drug user before the bombs. Boyfriend was a big Hollywood star; all that pressure and you’re telling me that he’d be clean? My guy was prolly seeing more snow than Alaska.

Another Anon with 100% correct opinions who deserves a kiss straight on the mouth. Mwah.

But also...do you guys have backdoor access to my drafts? Yet again, someone comes into the ask box discussing a topic I was already thinking heavily on for a long-form piece; definitely touching on a lot of this in the next installments of Duplicity. Mister Howard doesn't deal with stress in the healthiest of ways. I also have a follow-up to this question in the inbox and I'm so glad you sent separate asks, actually, because I have a ton to say about this topic.

Substance use was absolutely a cornerstone of Cooper Howard's life long before the bombs dropped.

His vices of choice are primarily alcohol and cocaine (and cigarettes, obviously, but that's a societal addiction in the world he comes from), the former especially. Cooper is the definition of a high-functioning alcoholic. While he did dabble a bit more in party drugs when he and Barb were younger, when he was first starting to become famous and make good money, he more or less gave them up when Janey came along.

The coke use started as a social thing, a curiosity and a fun enhancer that he, and even Barb, occasionally, would dabble in. While he'd never pressure her to use (well, not that much, at least...), the few times she did are pretty fond memories to him, even after they split. She's always been a pretty straight-laced, serious, and high-achieving person, and he loved seeing her open up any time she decided to let her hair down. Plus, the sex after they got home would always be extra wild.

Addiction runs in the family on Cooper's side, so he grew up around people who drank a lot, and began drinking rather young himself as a result. He's been a fan of the sauce for a long time, far before his marriage or even his time in the army. Once they'd made it to Los Angeles, social drinking became a pretty big part of the Howard's lives, both using alcohol and sharing drinks with important contacts as a way to network their way into better opportunities. Barb isn't nearly as much of a drinker at home, save for an occasional glass of wine with dinner or a celebratory cocktail to top off a big accomplishment.

Coop's relationship with alcohol changed after he returned from his deployment; for the first time in his life, he began to more frequently use booze to chase away feelings he didn't want to feel, thoughts he didn't want to have. However, he kept a pretty solid handle on his habit for a long time, at least in terms of keeping it a secret. Janey's birth made it easy to keep his consumption to a minimum for several years. However, as his career began to decline as he aged (and as Vault-Tec became a more and more prominent presence in his life), he turned back to the bottle. When his stress began to peak, he started using cocaine more and more to "take the edge off".

He gets quite defensive (even aggressive, depending on who you are and how hard you push) if you start asking him too many questions about his substance use. Doesn't appreciate the implication that he has a problem he can't control. Cooper is already painfully aware of the number of things in his life that he has no control over and refuses to add another to the list. His manager, a pretty good friend with good intentions, very casually mentioned him possibly checking into rehab exactly once and he absolutely blew his lid. The idea of the public knowing about his struggles, judging him, laughing at him is more than he can bear, and that fear only intensifies after he spends over a year being mocked for his divorce and career backslide.

Besides, if he went to rehab, Barb would know, and that idea humiliates him. As far as he knows, he's hidden his problem from her for a long time.

Barb sees the signs much more clearly than he thinks, though. He comes home from parties she didn't attend incredibly late, teeth-grittingly on-edge and horny, but can't get it up properly due to the blow. Has the lingering smell of whiskey on his breath when she kisses him in the morning and conveniently always has a coffee waiting for her so she doesn't ask for a sip of his. Towards the end of their marriage, she finds a couple of flasks in places so obscure that they can only be hidden stashes, implying he's drinking so often that he feels the need to have near-constant access to alcohol.

Cooper's been a poor sleeper since his time in the service. He came back changed in more ways than one, but that was the most noticeable. However, he acts different when he's awake from insomnia versus when he's awake because he's fucked up. A regular night of bad sleep includes him quietly curled up in a chair, studying a script or watching the television turned down low as he tries his best to will himself into some rest.

When he's high, though, he has too much energy to sit still, so sometimes she'll wake up to him finishing up some household task that absolutely could have waited, or even doing things they pay people to do. She finds it hard to believe that he, for example, did four loads of laundry overnight or gave his car a meticulous tune-up because he was just that bored, despite his insistence. Once, she found him out in the back yard in the middle of the night, shooting live ammunition at a target and murmuring to himself. Though she'd stayed up and lingered at the window for hours watching over him, for the first time ever in their marriage, she'd been afraid of him, too unsure of how he'd react to approach.

She hadn't known it at the time, of course, but they'd be divorced within two years of that night.

His addiction issues absolutely came up in court, though they weren't the focus of any of the discussions. Barb withholds some information. While she fails to truly grasp all of the reasons her marriage ended, and therefore goes into the divorce angry and wanting to get back at him for his perceived rejections, she doesn't want to completely drag his name through the mud. But she still mentions a few aspects of it, namely those she feels could impact Janey. Cooper takes this very personally, especially when their custody split is decided and he's dissatisfied with the outcome.

After the split, when he no longer sees his family every day and spends significantly more time alone, his use increases, as does his tolerance. All the while, his ability to hide his dependence slowly wears away. Unfortunately, he has no idea what's in store for him in the future.

If he did, though, it'd probably only drive him to use more.

[adragonsfriend]

To expand on a particular point, but slightly to the left, I sometimes see the argument made that “Jedi are partly inspired by Buddhist beliefs, so to criticise Jedi is to critics Buddhism, so critisizing the Jedi is inherently prejudice, so stfu.” None of those things necessarily follow from one another.

(Please note: there are many, many words for how much I love the Jedi and believe they are right about how their world works and how to be good in that world, because I have written both essays and fics about it)

First, the world building of the Jedi involving significant inspiration does not in any way make them representative of Buddhism in the real world. A couple of movies could never contain the depth and breadth of any religion—at most SW attempts to communicate a few principles, with varying success. (Besides which, argument that Buddhism is the sole religious inspiration for SW and the Jedi when everyone or almost everyone involved it their creation grew up in a Christian culture, the main writer explicitly says their thematic opposition is “like the Devil,” and lots of the people involved probably have totally other religions in their lives as well, is frankly foolish)

Second, while a fan-base similarly steeped in a wider Christian and Western culture is certainly likely to be less knowledgable about and quite possibly prejudiced against other understandings of the world, people are allowed to criticise real religions. It should be done with the weight and understanding of what that means—telling millions or sometimes billions of people they are living they lives wrong in some way, and either tacitly or explicitly asking them to change it—but it is not inherently prejudiced to do so. Buddhism, like any other religion, is not some magical mystery thing which is above becoming part of societal or personal strife.

The difference comes in, like OP says, with how well you understand what you are arguing about. For me, criticising my parents Christianity is fairly easy to do with nuance: I used to believe, I went to the services, I read the book, I experienced having a church as a center of community, I’ve seen some good and some bad come of it. I could not say the same if I was critique any other religion, so if I wanted to, I would have to take far more care and do far more research.

There are many arguments about what went on in the SW universe, some of which come down to the ambiguity on interpreting fiction, and some of which come back to real world issues. Some of those arguments are fun, some of them are ones you and I have opinions on, and some of them are dumb; “Jedi are partly inspired by Buddhist beliefs, so to criticise Jedi is to critics Buddhism, so critisizing the Jedi is inherently prejudice, so stfu,” is one of that last group.

There are far more interesting rephrasings of it to explore, including but not limited to:

“I think your view of Star Wars is being limited by growing up in a Christian/other non Buddhist culture.”

“Well if you go and read this text, you’ll see that Buddhism actually says something similar to what Jedi say, but the text has a little more context…”

Or even, “clearly we both know fuck all about Buddhism, so let’s try talking about SW and the Jedi in their own rite, without drawing on real religions to make quippy one liners about how right we are.”

And remember, both-sidesism is always a lie—not just in that two or more “sides” are very rarely equally good—but in the very assumption that any issue of real importance has any inherent “sides” to it at all.

I don't and never will mind posts that criticize the Jedi, their beliefs, etc etc. I myself have pointed out the fact that many other people in the Pro Jedi community do not acknowledge or "allow" others to point out that, yes, the Jedi did have flaws as an organization, and they definitely had some very flawed members. What I do mind is when those posts (and their points) are made with a complete lack of understanding of the material being talked about. You are not building a good argument on the Jedi being wrong about attachments if you do not understand that attachment and love are not the same thing. You can be attached/develop attachment to something you fucking hate. Even then, attachment in the Star Wars universe, as in Buddhism, is defined by feelings of clinging or an inability to let things go/allow change.

You are not building a good argument on the Jedi having a slave army if you are not willing to bring up how they were put into that position, how they themselves dealt with that situation, and make an argument for what they could have done differently that takes the complexities of the entire situation into account. You are not making a good argument about the Jedi being wrong to hold Anakin's fear against him if you cannot and/or will not acknowledge that Star Wars' entire power/magic system is based upon negative emotions and our reactions to them. I could go on and on and on, but I would be beating a dead tauntaun at that point. My point is, approach the media and your arguments in good faith, with clear knowledge on what it is you are talking about, and you'll find people more receptive to hearing you out. That goes for both "sides." Just be good to each other, always.

[greens-spilled-tea]

Honestly I genuinely hate just how much syscourse is tied into the DID/CDD communities. I see so many blogs and twitters run by people with a CDD who just want to talk about their disorders or even just exist as someone with a CDD, and yet they still get questions like "are you pro-endo/anti-endo?". Let people just live. Not everything is about syscourse.

[leblogreblog]

Being a Cahir fan from the time before the show came out is so weird cause-

That's. That's litteraly a completely different character.

[awfullybigwardrobe44]

Band leader at church: *tells me that he appreciates me, values me, that I am loved, that he sees the effort I’ve put in, that he wants to get to know me more*

Me: *feels good for a few hours*

Me: *has in-person interaction with him and the worship leader tonight*

Me, hours later: they hate me. They both can’t stand me. Whatever he said this morning, he doesn’t feel it anymore. He thinks I’m weird. He thinks I’m annoying as heck and doesn’t want to be around me. They are both annoyed at me and I took up a disrespectful amount of his time last night and he thinks I’m rude and entitled.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[speaching]

Research your native and invasive plants and animals

Finding out the plants/animals in my area that aren't from here has actually been pretty fun

I learn some fun trivia that most people around me don't know

I can help my environment and avoid harming the local ecosystem more (ie planting invasive plants)

And I'm more aware and closer with the nature around me

I understand not everyone is going to encounter invasive animals or plants everyday, but I learned that where I live has a ton of invasive ants? Even some invasive earth worms (no idea how you even identify those). There's small insects, plants, animals, there's tons of different things

Learning about how different species got to where I live in the first place can help me be more aware of it happening in the future. Are they commonly transported through luggage (ants/roaches)? And they brought as pets (various reptiles/even cats)? Did scientists bring them for one reason or another (plants/bugs mostly but also animals)?

It's also just a lot of fun, I get to tell people not even from the same country as me about different animals and how they got here, and they affect the environment or about native animals and what they do to help the ecosystem thrive.

It also helps me be closer with the nature around me, so long ago I wanted to start a business that would go to local parks to sell food, there are some tourists so I thought I'd also make it informative and I'd name it after a local animal, I learned about an endangered frog and decided that's what I'd name the business. Every time I hear that frog call now, I can pick it out immediately, and I happily exclaim it to whoever I'm with. I get to have fun teaching people about things that can actually be important even if they seem small

It seems like a dumb thing to do, but I was just bored scrolling through some social media and decided to pull up my native and invasive species lists online. I didn't read them all, I just scrolled til something caught my eye, I didn't always read the entire entry. Sometimes, I skimmed it. Sometimes, all I did was look at the name and picture, but I still learned something.

I don't like where I live, but I can still appreciate my environment

Tell me a native or invasive flora/fauna where you live, I'd love to hear!

[sunplanter]

I love waking up at 5am and having a breakdown 😌