#then you need to communicate that to your partner

[thebestpartofwakingup]

Not to mention how rude, inconsiderate, dishonest, disrespectful, and potentially harmful (to both you and others) to navigate the world and your life and public spaces — presenting as a competent adult (yes I am aware that visibly disabled adults are often not treated in the same manner) without respecting the responsibility of agency that being an adult carries.

Yes, there are plenty of 20 somethings who do look like teenagers and may be treated as such, in public, by older adults. It happens, it’s sometimes awkward, but it is not a universal script for how you — an adult who knows they are an adult, should present themselves and expect to be treated by others in return.

People make mistakes! Its ok to ask for help, or take up a bit more time or space than is situationally ideal (say, fumbling with your wallet at the cashier) these are not like “you are bad and evil and stupid” everyone has fluctuations in like, overall competence and awareness, everyone gets caught off guard.

I live in a large city, there are lots of places and people I visit regularly, people I see around my usual spots often, people who see me around commonly, and also lots of people I may never see again in the mix.

Ive given my bus seat up to other people before, let families go ahead of me for the bathroom, ive dealt with men making unwanted comments towards me — on a whole range of ‘ew what a creep’ and ‘he means well’ — and had homeless people sit down at my table at various libraries, cafes, malls, etc.

Uncomfortable, inconvenient things happen all the time! Things happen all the time that require, and easily allow, us to provide grace and help to strangers (especially to parents/kids and the homeless, since they are often/commonly the people most visibly in need of grace and extra patience than we would maybe expect or require from strangers ourselves)

Now I’m leftist/progressive (never been one for like, grand political strategy, so more specific labels aren’t really my thing) and so are the majority of my friends, or some other related political identity. People who value inclusion and diversity and accommodating and accepting other people.

And I cannot count the number of times a planned social outing has spiraled out of control because someone in attendance did not communicate with anyone else, prior to the event, that this activity is well outside their comfort zone and may become too much for them, or that they’ll require additional supervision, or do not have *transportation/ a plan for getting home*

And this has even extended to social gatherings planned AROUND supporting someone else’s communicated needs. “My grandma died and I don’t want to be alone right now” “my partner dumped me and I wanna go out and feel good about myself” “work has been killing me lately and I really need a relaxing night with my best friends” etc.

It’s ok, good even, to push yourself outside your comfort zone! But it’s unbelievably rude to do so in a way where your plan for doing so directly interrupts or diminishes the needs and experiences of the people around you because you did not communicate your needs.

I think mostly what young fandom types (and I guess younger people in general) who are very very invested in the idea that “20 is still basically a minor” need to understand is that the feeling of “I’m just a child pretending to be an adult, and everyone else around me is a REAL adult” is DEEPLY universal (and won’t stop, ever, by the way, sorry!) and also is not, like, praxis.

Believe me, I get it, but the self-infantilization needs to stop, especially when you’re trying to engage in conversations about actual children and the harms they can face. Yes, it is scary to wake up and realize you’re 22 and you still feel like you’re 15, but it happens to all of us. You’re an adult. You have to deal with it.

[loredrinker]

Felassan's Role in Psychological Warfare

Some time ago, I wrote about Elgar’nan’s terrifying display of power - the act of erasing emotion from existence, burning it from the minds of every living being, and letting its spirits die out completely. 

This is the scale of the enemy Solas and Felassan were up against. When your enemy can unmake feeling, extinguish spiritual presence, and reshape the metaphysical architecture of your people, what choices remain? What kind of war do you wage against opponents like these? 

What Elgar’nan did was spiritual genocide - brute force on every level. From the war on the Titans, to the destruction of spirit communities, to the devastation he continues to unleash in Veilguard, Elgar’nan has ruled through annihilation. (I feel real sympathy for Mythal trying to placate this being.) And what’s more terrifying: he’s only one of the Evanuris.

This reframes Solas’s rebellion. It wasn’t just a fight against political oppression - it was a fight to also preserve the emotional and spiritual reality of the world. 

In that context, it’s no surprise the rebellion turned to psychological warfare. And this is where Felassan emerges not merely as a soldier or lieutenant, but as an architect - just as good at it as Solas. 

The Dread Wolf: A Weapon, Not a Hero 

The Felassan codices confirm their psychological campaign was deliberate and coordinated. The Dread Wolf myth was used as a weapon to frighten the Evanuris, inspire hope, and manipulate belief.

“Yes, we have to keep playing up the Dread Wolf. The people need someone they believe is strong enough to protect them… Don’t worry. I promise to mock you viciously if you ever start believing those stories yourself.”  - Felassan

This wasn’t about heroism - it was about mass mobilization under existential threat. These codices suggest Felassan played a far more integral and strategic role in the rebellion than often acknowledged. He wasn’t just Solas’ lieutenant; he was a partner in both ideology and execution. 

This was myth as infrastructure. Felassan understood that when your enemies are divine, survival requires more than tactics. You need narrative power - a symbol strong enough to counter fear. The Dread Wolf, once hurled at Solas with contempt, became that symbol. And Felassan and Solas wielded it with precision. 

It’s easy to see Felassan as a wry commentator or moral counterweight to Solas, espeically when taken in hindsight of his death. And yes, Felassan is those things - but the codices reveal he's just as much the strategist as Solas, someone who helped forge the emotional weaponry of the rebellion. He didn’t just believe in the cause - he helped shape how it would be remembered. 

This is especially clear in two parts of that codex: 

“Yes, we have to keep playing up the Dread Wolf.”  “Don’t worry…” 

It reads like a continuation of an ongoing conversation. The “Yes” implies Solas has raised a concern - maybe about the direction of the symbol, perhaps discomfort with what it’s making him become - who knows, but we have missed out on some initial conversation here because Felassan’s response is affirmation and reassurance. Yes, we have to do this Solas, it’s necessary for the rebellion. But don’t worry, I’ll pull you back if it starts to consume you. That casual “Don’t worry” does heavy emotional lifting. It acknowledges the toll already settling on Solas, and Felassan, aware of it, offers the only balm he can: I still see you. 

In this way, the codex isn’t just a strategic log - it’s a record of emotional triage. As the war escalates, the emotional and ethical toll begins to shift. Felassan becomes not just a planner but a witness to a conflict spiraling beyond anyone’s control. 

“The bad news is that Andruil and Ghilan’nain made a big show of putting down a protest… Andruil left a crater where the town stood, and Ghilan’nain is using the people taken prisoner as fodder for her experiments.” 

What follows next in that codex is the line that piqued my curiosity: 

“This isn’t your fault, but still, this is exactly what I was worried about.” 

That line marks a quiet, painful evolution in Felassan’s thinking. The emotional core is regret. 

He isn’t blaming Solas - he’s acknowledging that the symbol they created is now drawing divine wrath. Each act of rebellion is met with devastation so complete, even victory feels like loss. Yet “this isn’t your fault” stands out. He knows Solas is carrying the rebellion’s cost - perhaps already retreating inward, calcifying under the burden of the costs of war. 

But “this is exactly what I was worried about,” when read alongside the other codices, suggests something deeper: guilt. Felassan sees Solas changing. The man he once teased to not take the myth too seriously is now becoming it. The line between mask and self is blurring. And Felassan, who once promised to pull him back, may no longer be able to. Part of that guilt, perhaps, comes from the knowledge that he encouraged it - that he helped craft the myth, pushed Solas to wear it, and now must watch as it consumes his friend. 

In a war like this, no one remains untouched. The Evanuris long ago abandoned morality - experimenting on the living, erasing emotions, killing without hesitation. But the rebels, too, are marked by compromise: truths sacrificed, lies forged for survival. Felassan isn’t innocent. Neither is Solas. 

Felassan helped build the myth. Solas bore it. Now, both are shaped by it in turn. 

The tragedy is that when you wield psychological warfare, there's always the risk that the story you create to move others will begin to reshape you. That’s what Felassan feared. That’s what began to happen.

And when Mythal is murdered - well, we know what happens from there.

This is part of a larger series. The first being Solas and Psychological Warfare.

[tallulahneale]

Wade in the water 

Summary: Sammie and Ellita (Reader) reconnect after years of distance.

At the age of 6 Ellita was adopted by George Moore, the father of Elias and Elijah. They restored life to the lost love she didn’t know she needed or missed. Her brothers always looked out for her and made sure she had the confidence to survive in any situation life presents. The rest of the Moore dynasty were receptive and accommodating through her transition into the home, especially Sammie. They were the closest in age; 10 and 14 respectively, which created a partners-in-crime type friendship. After skill class, they would walk home together sharing stories and pranks to play the following week. This weekend was the expansion of the church, Sammie’s father was the preacher and that meant he would be spending more time at the parish than with her. But no worries, she’ll see him on the Saturday.

For as along as she could remember, Saturday evenings at the Moore residence has always been busy and vibrant. Her role was in the kitchen with the other ladies preparing lunch for the community, while Elias and Elijah arrange the church schedule for tomorrow. She deslimes and debones the catfish, placing them in a bowl for the other women to continue slicing and seasoning.

“Guess who?” Sammie says tiptoeing behind her.

“Sammieee” Ellita squeals with glee.

The women glance across at her with a warning ‘not to leave the kitchen’ stare but Ellita runs out before they could get a word in. She hugs Sammie like she hasn’t seen him in months and begins to yap.

“Slow down” Sammie laughs at her rambling

“-and then” She pauses, taking a breathe in “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes” she twiddles her fingers nervously, while looking at the floor.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” She asks.

Sammie had being preparing a new song for the service, in hope that his Pops sees his passion for crooning. His voice is harmonious and powerful, she even gets goosebumps when he talks.

“Yep, Pops said I can play at the end” He smiles while swings their hands together. 

“I’m really glad for ya’ Sammie maybe you-”

“Ellita!” Elijah bellows from the hallway, sighting her and Sammie yapping.

“Quick run!!” She hears Elias say from behind his twin, as she and Sammie dash to the porch into the front yard giggling.

“Tasks need to be completed little sis” Elijah reprimands loudly “If everyone ran off with their friend, then no work would get done.” 

She rolls her eyes, crouching behind the store shed with Sammie as they watch the twins walk back into the house.

They spend the rest of the evening laid out on the warm green grass, staring into the navy blue sky scattered with stars. Sammie reaches over to grasp her hand, which she squeezes gently.

“I’m glad Unc found you”

“I’m glad he did too” She agrees with a nod, as they share a fleeting look at each other.

“Sammie, Ellita!” They hear from the porch “Meal time” 

He stands up putting his hand out to pull her up as their names are called for supper. She follows him closely as they make way to the house. Eyeing the food, she sights Elijah who looks at her with a squint. She grins cheekily making a silly-cute face and moves to sit beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He tugs her ears playfully and mutters something along the lines of her being a handful. 

“You’re not meant to talk with food in your mouth” She says, poking at his dimples. A smile creeps at the corner of his lips as he glances down at her, shaking his head.

Supper is in full swing, with chatting across the table and excitement for the upcoming event.

“Don’t be late tomorrow, Ellita” Sammie says, giving her a tight hug as he heads through the front door. 

“We’ll walk you back lil cousin” Elias and Elijah say simultaneously, Elias hangs his arm across Sammie’s shoulder.

Elijah whispers to Elias briefly before turning to Ellita .

“Make sure you was-“

“I know, I know. I’ll do them dishes” She mutters, carrying the plates and tableware to the sink. She speeds through the cookery, Pa helps her dry before departing just in time for the twins to return. By the time she is done wiping down the table and sweeping the area, the twins are back smelling like ash and a pungent trail of carbon. 

“Pa’s not going to like that” She tells them “Y’all stink!”

“Shhh, go hang your blue gown on the line and wrap your hair tonight” Elias reminds her. She tends to forget and has to waste more time in the morning fixing it. The blue gown in question is only for special occasions, the material is quite delicate so she isn’t allowed to iron it. She places the rich cotton fabric beside the other linens Elijah has beside him. He has taken the mantle of iron-King. 

Ellita yawns quietly placing a kiss on the cheek of the twins and Pa too, walking sluggishly to her room. It’s been a long day.

‘Another day in the house of the lord, full of dancing merriment and love’ Ellita thinks to herself walking in with Pa and the twins. She takes her seat close to the front of the hall, looking around for her best friend in the whole wide world. In the midst of the choir team stood little Sammie Moore. His smile was a bright, dressed in clothing too pristine for such a young boy. He leads the team by humming a tune for the first gospel, the timbers of his melody are soothing and full of vigor.

“He is such an old soul” Ellita whispers to herself, eyes twinkling with a smile.

“Yes is his” Pa Moore agrees, she did not whisper as quiet as she thought. Watching from the pew, she beams joyously at Sammie as their eyes meet. He winks at her before turning to his older cousins and uncle with a nod. That simple gesture was how their friendship started when she joined the Moore family.

But as time flew by, they grew in different directions and slowly became just neighbors. Some friendships build a comfortable distance, no resentment or anguish at the lack of contact. That was the predicament for Ellita and Sammie. A decade had gone by with a few brief waves and idle greetings. The past memories of childhood together; running around and playing jest felt like a dream, 10 years could do that.

Ellita felt proud to call herself a Moore and joining in with the Sunday festivities… until she didn’t. She was more intrigued by the spiritually of their ancestors as opposed to the christian indoctrination of her youth. Over the years she followed elders to understand how plants, water and the environment are the keys to good fortune, success, love and safety. Luckily the existence of these teachings were welcome in the community. She had constant support from her brothers Elijah and Elias, who go by SmokeStack twins now and her Pa, but other members of the Moore family did not take kindly to her new growth. 

Mainly her Uncle.

Preacher Moore did not approve.

He held back on sharing his opinions, but his actions spoke louder than his words. From subtle ridicule during sermons about her practices to the disdain for Smoke and Stacks ‘new’ money despite their effort in helping the community. Ellita blames him for the rift of her friendship, Sammie had no choice but to follow in the footsteps of his father and join the church as a full time trade. Although she was allowed to attend the sermons, she opted out as soon as Pa dead not long after Stack and Smoke left for Chicago. The longing for the rich timber melodic sounds that escapes Sammie’s voice still call out to her. Sometimes she would listen to him singing next-door and smiles at the now baritone harmony of his vocal cords. Her time was well spent, at 21 she had a learnt more than others her age and picked up skills which were slowly dying off with the elders. Ellita followed the footsteps of her brothers and travelling through many neighboring towns and communities to expand her knowledge on various practices; the art of fertility, health, beauty and divinity. She had taken the mantle as Healer of their community, providing advice and herbs to women and men alike.

Smoke and Stack encouraged her pursuit, seeing her gift and drive for all things natural and close to earth. So they built her a generous log-cabin close to the river where she could grow, forage and cultivate all components used in her craft. Whenever the twins returned from their trip, they would kick back and relax in the scenic surroundings of pine tress and a build a fire under the stars sharing stories of Chicago. 

———

Looking up at the sky, Ellita reads the curve of the moon with a look of anticipation and warmth.

“The full moon is approaching” She states softly. 

She began to prepare herself, there were tasks to do in order to remain inline with the ancestors and express gratitude to the elders who created this path for her. She gathers her pre-made oil of chamomile, sage and lemongrass extract, powder from grinded yucca glaccua and the cuttings from the bark of banisteriopsis caapi, her herbalist refers to it as the ‘soul vine’.

Taking note of the time, Ellita informs the town that tonight was her day off so she could re-center and prepare for the new month ahead. The message reaches neighboring communities too as well as their local parishes. She had written a letter to the twins a week ago, just in case they would be stopping by for their monthly visit. It was important that tranquillity of her cabin remains undisturbed to regain balance and focus of her emotions, ensuring that the sustenance provided to her community is pure.

With a shiny steel pail, coconut shell scoop and a luffa aegyptiaca, she strolls to the edge of the creek, where brown loamy earth meets the rushing stream of water. She heads back to the cabin to fetch her woven choctaw basket full of oils and powders, placing them beside the pail.

With a deep breath in, Ellita listens to the whispers of the wind brushing along the leaves, the crickets chirping and rush of water along the stones and pebbles.

“Isë” She chants tenderly. (Let it be so)

Stripping down from head to toe, she removes the silk hair tie freeing her luscious locks into its full afro state. The tendrils at the back of her scalp tickling her nape, the cloth that slides along her womanly curves comes next, a pink and red floral print fabric gifted to her by a seamstress.

Not too far away, Sammie is in a dilemma of his own. Clearing his mind after a heated conversation with his Pops, he takes a wander through the pine filled land far from the parish. 

“I'm gonna lay down my burden, down by the riverside. Down by the riverside, down by the riverside” He sings passionately. Sammie loves serenity of the outdoors the freedom, the fresh air, it helps create a sublime symphony that blends well with his acoustics. Approaching the riverbank, he sights a shapely figure adorned in an a satin-like material toes shuffling into the water. His eyes trail from her white painted toes to the smooth haunches of her calf, the rest of her covered by the fabric. Her exposed shoulder gleam under the pale moonlight as it shines brightly, a vibrant glow against her deep ebony supple skin. His breath hitches as he looks into the face of the goddess before him.

‘Ellita!’ His soul roars in elation.

His eyes locked on her turned back, Sammie gazes at her fingers as they reach up to her nape to untie the knot of the fabric. And there she stood. Free from the constraints of clothing, free as a school of fish in open water, just free. He remains where he stood, gazing at Ellita as she wades into the water stopping to turn and gather the basket sitting it on a boulder, her luffa floating on the surface of the water. His eyes are glued to her full bosom, nipple looking suckable and tight.

He cannot look away.

His palms are clammy, heart beating faster in fear of getting caught and lust for the woman whom he grew up with. ‘Pearline has nothing on her’, he thinks to himself.

He is in a dazed state at roundness of Elltias hips as she sways, like the water she scoops from the river. The liquid run through her hair, drenching it with moisture just as his feels his own leak from the tip. He rearranges his bulge, hoping to remain stealthily enough to walk away.

But his legs stay rooted in the earth below.

Ellita reaches over to her basket, derriere in the air and tear shape breast hung over the pail adding the soul vine in with the water. The liquid is crystal blue floating against the pebbles and stones of its own origin, unaltered by manmade chemicals.

 “Isë” She utters with thanks.

She submerges her body into the water, drenching every crevice and surface of her being. Before returning graceful above, dripping in fresh water. She senses a presence nearby but for some reason it has been  welcomed. It is not one that the ancestors or even herself are disturbed by. She hears the voice before she sees the lips that sign the melody;

“Wade in the water, Wade in the water children

Wade in the water, God’s got trouble the water”

“Sammie” she calls out in fondness, standing stark naked in the water as the day she was born. Their eyes meet just as it did whenever she sat along the front pews in church, him in the corner of the choir team. Ellita continues her practices as he winks at her, stepping closer to the edge of the river.

Generous applying yucca root powder across her neck, around her protruding chest, down her stomach and navel to the apex of her cooch.

Her eyes never leave his.

His eyes stay connected to her own.

Spreading her legs, she dips between her thighs, cleansing her folds with a mewl. Then down to her knees and her ankles. Turning her back, she bends over sultry to scoop water from the pail. Sammie grunts.

“Mmh-mmh, Mmh-mmh

God's gonna trouble the water”

A tremor is felt at the vibration of his voice, she rinses the lather and turns to face him. Her desire is visible as the hairs on her neck stiffen, nipples taut and the flutter in her fanny as he leers along her form

“Whatcha doin’ round here lil Sammie?” She asks.

“Ain’t no little Sammie here Ellita” He replies, leaning against the pine tree.

“I can see that…” Her eyes glancing at the fitted curve of his corduroys. 

“10 years later and you’re still a handful”

“More like two handfuls” She states with wit, rubbing the oil along her thighs and rear massaging the scent into her skin.

Sammie raising an eyebrow in curiosity, reading her eyes. There’s a subtle look of uncertainty but that fades to yearning as she closes her lashes and tilts her head back. With her back arched, Sammie peers down at smooth curls that hide her lips.

“You know I missed ya, right?” He admits “Don’t like that we drifted apart”

She doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Whatcha doin’ round here Sammie?” She asks again, firmly

“You becoming just as tough as Smoke” He mutters, eye locked on her oiled dripping skin.

Ellita lets out a breath, calming herself before continuing.

“Today’s my day off, no-one meant to be round here boy” she says sassily

“Now that’s the Ellita I remember, cheeky” he says, flashing a smile while inching towards her.

“You been watching me for a while huh?”

“Damn right”

“Wanna to join?”Ellita purrs

He blinks as if to snap out of a trance, reaching down to slips off his dress shoes and socks.

“Mmh-mmh, Mmh-mmh, God's gonna trouble the water” He sings eagerly as the rest of his clothes fall to the ground. 

A/n: Currently drafting part 2!! 

[feral-pixie-dream-possum]

This is done on purpose. So is framing it in a way that you don't need to learn humanities if you're doing something else with your. "Soft" skills are life skills and will help you get ahead in your career, also. If that happens to be the only thing you care about. Knowing history is very fucking useful if you're in any way making decisions, because that's how you avoid the most common mistakes. You'll have seen them in history. Knowing how to understand what you've read and write what you mean is a requirement for making smart agreements or communicating with anyone. Like your business partners or the science community. Just. Get a broad education. I don't care if it's by going to the Uni or by reading random library books or even by watching documentaries. Just do it. Please.

[comatosebunny09]

bunny why are you simmping over sylus can you explain why you like him

Darling…where do I begin?

1. He’s hot. Beautiful. Otherworldly. Unfairly gorgeous. Even his scowl is entrancing. And that waist…

2. That voice. God, that voice (EN). It’s killer. It the thing of fantasies (mine). It’s the perfect amount of gritty yet airy. Just imagining it steeping a few decibels while he tenderly instructs me to do things makes my skin all tingly and my face warm.

3. He’s rich. The very definition of filthy rich. You need a break from the world? He buys you a private island. Student loans? What the fuck are those? Here’s a full ride to a university for you to get your fourth degree. You dreamed of owning a bookstore? He’s already bought the entire block for you to start your business. He’s security for someone who’s known struggle for most of their life. For someone permanently in survival mode, always pushing things they need to the back burner to prioritize other things because tomorrow isn’t promised.

4. He’s healing. As someone who’s always on their feet, always checking on and taking care of everyone else, he’s the voice that tells me to sit the fuck down. He’s the one saying, “Let someone else take care of you for a change.” It’s refreshing to not always have to be the provider, the glue that holds people together, the mother hen keeping everyone in good spirits. It’s exhausting, because who takes care of the person who takes care of everyone else? Sylus. Sylus does.

5. I feel like he nurtures that need for independence while also being a failsafe in case you need it. Like, he won’t hold your hand when you’re learning how to roller-skate for the first time because you insisted you learn how to do it without him. He’ll let you fall and get banged up a few times. He’ll be there to say, “I told you so” when your knees are all scuffed up. But when he sees you crying, he’ll be there to pat you on the head and give you band-aids and take you out for ice cream after giving you shit for being hard-headed. That’s just an example, a really silly one, but essentially, I’m saying he lets you do your thing and doesn’t step in until you really need or ask for his help. He knows you’re prideful, and he doesn’t want to wound that by being overbearing.

6. I love that he’s a contradiction. He looks all scary and has this tough-guy exterior to ward people off. And yeah, he’s dangerous. He’s capable of extreme brutality and cruelty. But for the person he cares about, he’s like a Doberman (they’re big-ass babies). He looks like he’d kick puppies with his striking white hair and uncommon red eyes, but he has a soft spot for kids, animals, and the elderly. He puts up a front because he’s been hurt before. Betrayed numerous times, even by the people he cared most about. But he’s still trying to be vulnerable despite what the world’s given him, you know? Specifically for the people he holds close to him.

7. He’s a consent king and he’s constantly seeking reassurance. As someone who’s always asking their partners if they still love me and who’s always apologizing for things they have no reason being sorry for and always like asking people to reaffirm plans and stuff like that, I resonate with Sylus. You could give that man full consent to ravage you, but he’d still do welfare checks throughout because he’s a big baby who needs constant communication.

I could go on forever about this man. 😩😩😩 Essentially, I simp for him because he’s a big stuffy bear who needs hugs and love but acts like he doesn’t like it even though he’s buzzing on the inside. Sorry this got so long.

[hillbillyoracle]

This post got me thinking. Like really churning. I just started working through Momento Mori by Joanna Ebenstein and this post kicked up some realizations for me.

Most of my major experiences with death happened before the age of like 25. Some were the ones you "expect" like grandparents and others were friends in my scene who either OD'd or straight up disappeared. My more recent experiences were supporting my partner through 3 deaths in the family in 3 months - one a cousin that was a few years younger than her that accidentally OD's leaving behind her children. Another was the grandmother who was her rock growing up in a chaotic household and who steadfastly included me at family gatherings when my partner's mom and sister would ice me out. All passed suddenly.

I think the only thing that is universally true about grief is that everyone goes through it differently.

Because so much of what these replies held up as "this is what you say" and "this is what you do" - I fucking hate that stuff (even though I admit I default to it) as much as or more than so many people here hate the religious comments (which I usually don't tend to mind personally).

To me:

"I'm sorry for your loss" = "I am having the correct feeling about this."

"I can't imagine what you're going through" = "I can't relate to you and I'm putting distance between us to feel better about it."

"How are you doing?" = "Share something vulnerable with me so I feel like I helped you."

And you could say I'm hearing that wrong, and I get that I likely am, but that's what those words mean to me. And when I'm grieving I've learned I can't really access that part of my brain that better attunes me the "proper responses".

I also do not want someone to feel angry with, I do not want my anger fed at all. I want help dissolving it because if I don't it'll fully consume me and that's even worse than the grief for me, to have all the good in me burnt up while I'm still alive because that's my personal experience of anger.

Which is all just to say, it has nothing to do with religiosity in my experience - there's simply no "correct" response you can rely on for all people. In words or in deed.

And that is what makes experiencing grief so hard - everyone gives you what they got and often it's a reflection of their own stunted relationship with death, yes even the atheists, and it often sucks.

And trying to comfort someone in grief sucks - how do you use words and actions to reach them when communication of any kind is so highly individual and this individual might not be able to tell you what they need and want to hear/have done?

If you go "no actually they're using the wrong words/actions, these are the correct ones", you wind up doing the very same things as the people who've pissed you off.

Or at least, that's what I found when I dug into it.

I try to be forgiving when I'm grieving but I fall short. I don't expect someone grieving to be forgiving if I miss the mark, but I appreciate it immensely when they're able.

My favorite things to hear when I'm grieving are ones I know some other people hate:

"I miss them so much."

"Remember when they..."

"I thought about them today."

"I wonder what they'd say about..."

"They would have loved this."

"I had a dream about them."

Releasing the idea that there was a correct thing people could say to me and I would feel a little better (or ensure I wouldn't feel worse) let me grieve how I needed to grieve. It let me support in ways I could better sustain over the long term (because boy howdy if grief isn't long term).

Anywho, a heartfelt hug and virtual cup of tea to anyone else reading this and going through it. On other side. Solidarity friends.

it's been a year so i feel more comfortable talking about it..

when you're atheist and you lose someone, religious people don't really know how to interact with you. it's fine, we have different worldviews.

'He's in a better place, now.'

Sorry auntie, but I don't believe that. I believe that his brain stopped working at 5h55pm on december 11th 2022, and that's it. Nothing after that.

It makes grief very difficult, because not believing in god or the afterlife also means accepting that you will never, ever see that person again. That's it. The end. Nada mas.

But, back to the aunties and other faceless people gravitating in the grey blurry waters of your awareness.

They tell you 'He's with god now' and you tell them 'Yeah I don't believe that' and.

they. get. annoyed.

Here I am, gutted open, the worst day of my life, barely holding myself together, and they! Get annoyed that I won't smile and entertain their point of view!

Another faceless person tried to heal me with cristals. She also got annoyed when I told her I didn't believe in that.

I usually don't really mind religious people. It's fine, we have different worldviews. I think I'm right but so do they. As long as they're good people, I don't judge them for their faith.

I'll even be grateful for them trying to console me. I get that you're trying to give me strength and love. Thank you.

But I'm going to be true to myself, yes even when I'm mad with shock and grief. And I still can't believe they got annoyed that I didn't play along to placate them, on the worst day of my life.

(I wanted to share because I've never heard anyone talk about atheism and grief, and the loneliness that comes out of it.)

[hiimcanadia]

thinkin bout ed getting a little fat before meeting stede and then once they meet and develop crushes on each other ed feels bad that stede is getting the chubby version of him who indulges his sweet tooth too much... little does he know that a peek of ed's tummy makes stede crazy horny and he'd give anything to get to touch it himself.

yeaahhh 🥺

I feel like the further they get into their friendship/relationship the more Ed knows that a conversation about his weight has to be coming up. Maybe he even has old photos on social media from when he was thin and he's so sure that Stede wants him like that and not like he is now.

And eventually Ed decides he just wants to get it over with so while they're out at lunch or something he's like "I probably need to cut the sweets out of my diet, don't I? haha....."

And Stede, thinking about (and possibly staring at) the little belly button shadow in the shirt Ed is wearing, just gets the biggest pouty face and goes "what? D: why on earth would you do that??"

[naughtybg3confessions]

When I saw the poll, I actually felt comforted that I wasn't the only one who thought about their favorite character while having sex with their partner.. I'm honestly ashamed because I'm in a monogamous relationship, but I always had trouble enjoying vaginal sex. I almost never enjoyed it, until getting into bg3 and it got my libido back for sex. I've been initiating sex with my partner more, and I think that makes him happy because I almost never do that. My partner is pretty large and I'm pretty small, so usually hurts even with lube and takes time for me to get used to the size, but when I start remembering the fanfics I've read of my favorite character and fantasize, I immediately find myself enjoying it and I cant get enough of being pounded. I know this might seem pathetic and I do feel guilty..I'm sorry…

(Anon is referring to this poll)

[hillbillyoracle]

It's been brought to my attention that both of thee radios have a little orange button on the left side that you can hit and it goes into FM broadcast radio mode. This means you don't need a separate radio to check for public bulletins on broadcast radio - a very important part of emergency communication. Also, it's just nice to be able to listen to the radio if you want; I love some public broadcasting and listening to soccer matches.

It looks like both will let you monitor two frequencies at once at well which is very very helpful. It's nice to be able to monitor two different repeaters or monitor a repeater and a prearranged frequency your family might contact you one. Though you can't have that going and listen to the broadcast radio at the same time, one or the other.

And you can program in the weather frequencies too. And you can use it to call for help in an emergency (or chat if you get your license).

Like y'all, it blows my mind this is available for as cheap as it is. I really hope folks will order one even if they have no intention of getting a license.

ALSO - It's worth reading up on PACE plans.

Make them with your family, friends, and community.

Not necessarily recommending this blog but I really like this graphic explaining how a PACE communication plan works with some examples:

For my nesting partner and I, Meshtastics are our Alternate. I'm hoping to get my parents set up with them too. GMRS will be our Contingency (though I'll monitor more frequently). I'm still working on Emergency. Ham radio is my connection to my wider community.

I wish you all luck and every person who's responded saying they're going to grab one or that they're going to read more - thank you.

Comms is such a key part of community. We cannot mutually aid each other if we do not have a way to communicate about what is available and who needs it.

When cell phones and internet go down...

If you're in one of a myriad of marginalized groups who know they can't count on the government to help them, then this post is for you.

I feel like I'm cramming messages into bottles from my fairly niche interest (radio, emergency comms) and chucking them into the sea of Tumble in the hopes it reaches people it can help. What happened in Spain and Portugal recently and some of the cell outages we've seen in recent years - they're is a great example of why back up communication methods aren't just for doomsday preppers.

If cell phones and internet (and possibly power) went out, how would you communicate in an emergency?

Note: this is geared toward the US. It's where I am and it's all I know.

If I only had ~$25

I'd grab a Beofeng UV-5R ($18-$25) if I thought I might study to get my ham license eventually ($15-$25 test fee + $35 FCC fee),

OR

If I knew I didn't want to test for a ham license and thought I might pay $35 for a GMRS license eventually, I'd pay a little extra up front and get a Beofeng UV-5G plus GMRS radio (~$35)

While this would not allow me to transmit usually, this would allow me to:

call for help in an emergency - the license requirement for transmission is lifted in the event of a genuine emergency

listen to weather frequencies - it will not turn on and give you the alert but if you know bad weather is coming, you can turn it on and listen for alerts as they come in. Weather stations give alerts for a fairly broad area so you'll be able to hear about any significant storms as the move into and through your area.

listen to local repeaters - repeaters, in my experience, are kind of a combination of a megaphone and an internet chat room. You set the frequency and the PL tones (password sounds your radio sends) for the repeater and then you can hear people from much further away. This is one, just fun to listen to on a given day but two, a great way to find out information if your area is experiencing an event but you don't require help. Some even have EAS weather alerts (thought this still won't turn your radio on if it's off in an emergency). Use repeaterbook to look for repeaters in your area and use CHIRP to program them into your radio - tutorials abound.

For ~$15 more you can upgrade the UV-5R to a bigger battery and USB-C charging (UV-5G comes with USB-C charging).

This can be thrown in a go bag if you need to evacuate or your housing is unstable. You can have your handheld radio monitoring a local repeater while you have a car or portable radio listening to commercial or public stations for updates.

If I only had ~$100

I would get a GMRS license ($35) and a Beofeng UV-5G plus (~$35) and a single Meshtastic node (~$25).

If I had a little extra, I'd grab a second Meshtastic node for a roommate, partner, family member or nearby friend.

This would get me the ability to not only monitor frequencies but the ability to talk on them in non-emergency times which would be helpful practice. Some GMRS repeaters have regular "nets" - it's basically a meeting on air where someone invited folks to tell them/radio in their call sign (radio license ID basically) and then they confirm they heard you. This gives you a chance to test your equipment.

The GMRS license covers your family so they can pick up a radio as well and then you'd be able to communicate with them as well (as long as they're close enough; 1-5 miles but varies by terrain, more range if using a repeater). It's not a phone so the conversation would be heard by other people but this is great for wellness checks or a quick check up.

Meshtastics add the ability to text people and share GPS coordinates with people near by - encrypted if you so desire. The range is much less (I've only tested it to about a mile currently though with tweaking more is possible). This adds an important link in your communication plan - asynchronous communication. As long as the device is on and paired and in range, you'll most likely receive a message. It does drop occasionally but that's pretty rare. My nesting partner and I often have to rely on them because the internet and cell signal is so poor up here but they serve us incredibly well for that. Beyond the Emergency Comms use, it's just nice for morale to be able to text during an event. Best part is, if you're in an area were other people have them too, you can bounce your signal further for no additional power.

Past this amount of money, I'd still get my GMRS license and encourage my friends and neighbors who didn't want to study for the ham license to get theirs. Then I'd get my ham license and buy the best handheld I could afford - probably one of the value Yaesu models - so I have several ways to both coordinate among my loved ones and get any needs to a net in the area during a disaster.I'd get and pass out several meshtastic devices to people who were within range that I might want to commincate with. I'd look into back up power for recharging (I like my Jackerys).

Amateur radio is a deep well and this barely touches on it of it. Don't let how vast it is keep you thinking it's too complicated for you. I promise it's not. I'm very much a noob myself but I'm happy answer any questions that I can.

This is part of self care - ensuring you can care for yourself during chaotic events and emergencies to the best of your ability. Even a little bit of preparation can keep something like storm outbreak or power outage from turning harmful or even deadly. Learn what you can. You've got this!

[jackass-jones]

I know my ass says this every time there’s a new season but god DAMN, heartstopper is such a good show for teenagers

[quietlyblooms]

hey hey hey!! my " gardeners " section of my pinned is in desperate need of tending to, so i'm softly resetting it. that said, tap the heart if you'd like to be mains, affiliates, or exclusives, and i'll scuttle into your messages to talk about it! this post does a wonderful job explaining what each term means, but for this blog specifically, just keep in mind...

if you'd like to be mains, we need to have a dynamic established between our muses. we can absolutely discuss a dynamic now if we haven't already and move forward with the intention to focus on that dynamic -- that's fine by me <3 but i want to start digging into plots and developing relationships, and that's much easier if i have a clear picture of who our muses are to each other.

affiliates are in a similar boat, but i feel that they require more communication and plotting. if we're affiliates, that means our muses play an active, " canon " role in each other's stories, be it their main or au verses. or maybe this means we're making verses for each other's lore. whatever way you spin it, being affiliates means i'm in your messages rambling like a madwoman with blocks of text sometimes -- be prepared!!

i dunno how i'll list them neatly yet, but i'm also using this opportunity to discuss exclusives. i think this will mainly apply to my romantic shipping partners, but i'm generally open to discussing your canon muse being the only version chiyo interacts with if we're vibing and/or have a well-established dynamic. shipping partners merely have to ask, but if we're newly talking/interacting, that'll require more discussion and development.

[ambeauty]

Perhaps Sydney isn’t immediately running out on Carmy this time because she sees he’s spiraling and now she loves him. She just wants him to open up that conversation the same way he did under the table but now they are in the shit and don’t have time for it.

[itscuntingseason]

after reading the wtk manga, kabahana was probably the couple that grew the most on me. there is genuine mutual love, respect and appreciation between them, but they slightly differ from the other couples in that their bond was mostly formed bc of volleyball, not bc of their otaku hobbies (although, kabakura's otaku side is ultimately what brought them together, even if he doesn't want to admit it).

sure, naoya isn't much of an otaku, but he and kou bonded over gaming. hirotaka isn't a fudanshi, but he and narumi never hide around each other and he's openminded enough that he likes anything. after rereading the manga about a thousand times, i realise my problem with them wasn't the bickering or their difference in hobbies, but that kabakura's insecurity kinda spreads towards koyanagi. he's SO insecure about his interests that he can't try out anything else and he cringes when koyanagi wants to cosplay, bc he finds himself cringy. i do think they get better later in the manga, but the way their first big conflict got resolved still pisses me off. i don't think it was entirely kabakura's fault, koyanagi could've brought up how she felt way earlier (and while she was sober), and i do believe that he loves her for who she is. but MAN he could've at least given a genuine 'i'm sorry' in that moment.

[scary-lasagna]

Idk if you accept these types of request but honestly write whatever you want! (That's the request sorry if that's confusing)

Fem!reader, it's important to the story I promise

tw: hidden dark metaphors, fem reader, reader is a little coo-coo but in a bad way

The Dog House

You've noticed your significant other has been in his sassy era for a while now. Just small things, like putting in less effort and getting pissy whenever you mentioned you wanted a little something more than what he was serving.

You had to beg for flowers, and still didn't receive them. And yet, you always caught yourself picking something up for him on your way home from work, or remembering to leave out certain ingredients because he didn't like them.

And yet, deep down, you knew you were doing too much, no matter how appreciative he was, you were never met with the same energy.

And, damn, it's really starting to get to you.

Out of the pick of the litter, you chose Helen. He was sweet in the first months, before revealing who he was outside of the honeymoon phase of adoration and worship and constantly gifting you his paintings.

He came home from his day job, ate dinner, and then retreated to his studio for the next three hours, leaving you alone to watch a movie you promised to watch together, or pretend to have fun with your friends you barely knew with one headphone out in the hope of being called to the studio.

It was all in vain. You went to bed alone most nights, listening to him happily hum on the other side of the bedroom wall. How could he be so happy without you, when you lay crying beside an empty spot on the bed.

One can only stand for so much neglect before biting to get attention. He never noticed the energy match. Didn't care enough. And on a quiet night at dinner, you stared at his freckled face, hair messy with dried paint still clinging his tips together.

You looked past the face, past the nice, oblivious demeanor, and realized that he was truly just a stranger living in your home. He didn't even know it was your birthday tomorrow.

You looked down at your plate in gloom, and shoved it away as you stood, retreating to your own room.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." And how ignorant could someone be to think you were telling the truth. Knowing Helen, he would shrug to himself, and then continue eating and click on another unboxing video on his phone.

You paced back and forth that night, wondering if you could even salvage the situation; if it was even worth salvaging. After wiping tears, you entered his locked studio, knowing he didn't bother to jiggle the door after closing it since the lock had been broken for so long.

No wonder he'd been acting so distant.

Grotestquely accurate sculptures stood around his studio, down to freckles, to the scars, and cellulite on her thighs. The large silver canvas that hung on the worn-down dresser he used as a paint palette was the ugliest of all. Those images haunted you in the following weeks, and you forgot to sleep at night.

You had to kill her, or else he'd never stop.

[tarotsexual]

me: *prepping my cards for a reading via overhand shuffling* i got let go of from my job earlier today and i was wondering you had any-

the king, queen, and 10 of pentacles: *pop out of the deck almost instantly all stuck together*

me: …advice for me.

[thursdatt]

augh sometimes i think abt how young me would be so impressed w how my personal life is vs how he thought itd be that it makes the small bumps and tumbles worth it <3