#there was less sure but it was always always there and always discussed

[dekariosclan]

Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you

OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK

(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)

Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—

Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?

Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’

Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.

I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.

But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.

AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN

But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.

I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.

And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—

“Hello,” Gale said, softly.

Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.

“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.

Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.

“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.

For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.

“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”

A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”

“At begging for your forgiveness.”

————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!

[tempfrangit]

giving thanks

Simon x F!Reader, 141 x F!Reader, 503 count, 18+ summary: An American your whole life until work brought you to England, Thanksgiving was your favorite holiday. Your boyfriend cements that for you. content: suddenly open relationship, allusions to female receiving oral sex? (essentially heavy petting but I have anxiety) banners by @/cafekitsune

When you'd moved to England it had been a little embarrassing to let on that you actually missed Thanksgiving. You'd always had a big family, and it was the one time a year that you might see a cousin that lived across the country and catch up. You knew you had to get better at communicating on your own (and boy did living in an entirely different country make you learn that), but back then it had been the sure time. So you kept it all locked inside, calling your parents and sibling, but the time difference making it hard, the distance really showed itself for the first time.

Which is why you're shy when you broach the topic to your boyfriend, your second year together and almost fourth away from home.

Simon simply asks if it can be you both and the lads so the apartment wouldn't be packed, looking up from the game as he seems to sense how much this means to you. You kiss the corner of his lips as you thank him, briefly letting your forehead rest against his temple as you wonder how you got so lucky. You'd wanted it to be the five of you, unsure about letting all of your friends into your shared apartments at the same time and almost making yourself dizzy thinking about the amount of cleaning that would have to be done for that. But Captain Price, Kyle, and Johnny were perfect. Family over for a nice meal.

You hadn't even put together that you were the meal until the lads arrived.

Simon's mitts cradled your hips as he slotted himself snugly against your back, fingertips grazing the bottom edge of your dress's skirt. Johnny takes the opportunity to grope your ass in greeting as he grins about finally getting to have a taste of what's got ol Ghostie so soft.

– Let's see the pretty kitty –

You whine to Simon that he's got to take the turkey out of the oven as John holds you still and open on the couch, clothed thighs keeping your legs spread as Kyle eases your panties down. In response your lovely boyfriend affirms that he knows and you can hear the clatter of movement in the kitchen before all of your attention is taken by the breath against your bare pussy, parted and showing how wet you are.

Johnny whistles low, leaning over Kyle's shoulder, fingers looping through the taller man's pockets to be as close as possible.

“Hey, hey, hey, Gaz gets first, Soap,” the deep voice of Captain Price rumbles behind you, sending sparks straight to your core. You flush with the realization that they'd discussed this beforehand, hips rocking mindlessly before there is a tut of disapproval. “Oh, none o' that, luv, 's about giving thanks, innit? And we'll be showing you our thanks for making Si less of a sourpuss. Go on, Gaz, show 'er.”

He licks a hot strip up your quivering hole.

“Yes, sir.”

Oh god, you loved Thanksgiving.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hi I really love your writing! Not sure if you are taking any prompts, no worries if not!

I was wondering if you could something with Melissa x reader similar to Janine and Gregory where they both work at the school and maybe the reader is dating someone but they have a moment like the club scene or PECSA weekend.

Hope you're having a good day lovely human!

Not dead! Nor have I given up on writing or filling the prompts I still have to fill! But a weird thing did happen - I went to a hypnotist show with friends thinking I wouldn't be affected... Long story short, I remember the first fifteen minutes of the show. Apparently, I was in the show for the rest of it. So that was a thing. But that's not the weird thing. The hypnotist said that a side effect of his hypnosis is often a better ability to focus, a quieter mind and less anxious thoughts. I have to hand it to the man, his words seem to be true. An unexpected side effect of this for me though is that it turns out the noise and chatter in my mind actually helps me write my fics. Now it's all a bit quiet in there and it's been hard to get the words out. But, that doesn't mean I don't still love writing - so we're pushing through.

I do have a confession though - this story has two prompts noted at the top of it in my drafts and although I can't find any evidence that I've posted it under either prompt, if I have already posted this and somehow have missed it, please let me know and I shall take the duplicate down.

Anyway, enough about me. Enough rambling. I hope you enjoy!

*~*

It would be easier if she wasn’t nice to you. 

If she wasn’t nice to you, she could just be the untouchable, hot as hell, fiery goddess you admired from afar. 

But no.  She let you sit with her and Barb at lunch.  She even brought you lunch after a few conversations had strayed into discussing cooking and favourite recipes during said lunch breaks.

How were you meant to get over your ridiculous crush when she actually gave you the time of day?  When she smiled like that?  When her whole face lit up and she gestured so animatedly when she got caught up talking about something?

And as if that wasn’t enough, how were you ever meant to recover after seeing her so soft with her students?  Going out of her way to open up to them and help them. 

It was ridiculous, though.  You knew that.  What good was ever going to come of it? 

Kid.  That’s what she calls you.  It’s a constant reminder of the age gap between you.  Of the chasm that you feel you can’t even begin to cross when she sees you as some eager little kid.

You’ve always had a thing for older women.  From those early, confused days of watching your on-screen idols, to realising you didn’t want to be them.  You didn’t want to be friends with them.  You just wanted them. 

You want one in particular, but as you look across at her, her red hair ablaze in the sunshine, you force those feelings down once more.  If friendship is what she’s offering you’re not about to beat her with that olive branch.  You’ll deem yourself lucky and move on.

Even if she has ruined you for anyone else. 

*~*

“You know,” drawled Barbara.  “It’s beginning to become a habit.”

“What is?” asked Melissa, turning to face her friend with a frown. 

“Staring at her,” said the older woman, eyebrow raised. 

The red head scoffs.  “As if.  I don’t know what you think you’re seeing but that ain’t it.”

*

It was all said in jest to begin with.  Gentle teasing about a few wayward glances.  That was until Barb started to see her best friend be genuinely nice to you. 

To begin with, she tolerated you.  You weren’t one of the eager little puppies she so often saw when it came to younger new hires.  That much was evident from the start.  You were an old soul.  You carried a different energy. 

One that Melissa apparently appreciated just as much as the view.  Barb stood beside her the red head as they watched over the kids leaving school, keeping an eye on the them as they left for the day, making their way to busses, rides or parents.  Or rather, Barb was keeping watch over the children.  A quick glance at Melissa confirmed that her attention was directed at you where you stood a little way off, chatting happily with a young girl about the book she was waving at you as she waited for her mother to collect her. 

“Girl…”

“Don’t,” sighed Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest. 

That took Barb by surprise.  She had expected the red head to deny it.  “You mean?”

“It’s stupid.  She’s some pretty young thing and I’m…older than I care to admit.”

Turning to look at her friend, her expression sad, the older woman reached out and placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s arm.  “And?  What’s it called?  A Spring, Winter romance?”

“May, December,” corrected Melissa automatically.  “But same thing.”

“Exactly” said Barb.  “There’s a name for it and everything.  It’s a thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” huffed the red head, turning on her heel and heading back into the building.  “It’s stupid and I’ll get over it, just like I do everything else in my life.”

*~*

You’re not sure you’re entirely on board for PECSA. 

Out of school, things are different.  Lines are blurred and you’re seeing a whole different side to your colleagues.  You’re not sure if it’s liberating or terrifying.  And that’s before you add in the factor of the other teachers who have also been set free from the constraints of the classroom and are now loose in the wild.

You’re sure your confusion must show on your face, particularly when at the end of one of the breakout sessions you find yourself caught up in conversation with a striking older woman who teaches at another school across town.

You don’t see Melissa at first, who watches the interaction with interest.  She’s not used to seeing you outside of school, and it takes her back to realise that the woman is flirting with you.  Openly and blatantly flirting with you.  She’s touching your arm, leaning into you.  Smiling and laughing. 

In return, you know you’re blushing something terrible, especially when the woman hands you a page from her notebook with her number scrawled across it.  Watching the woman walk away, throwing you a smile over her shoulder to you, you finally see the red head standing in the doorway where she said she’d meet you so you could head for lunch together.

“She not a bit old for you?” she asks as you approach, your blush still heating your cheeks.

You frown.  “If she looks like that and thinks I’m hot enough to give me her number, they’re the numbers I’m interested in,” you reply, heading in the direction of the lunch buffet. 

Barb overhears the comment, unable not to smirk at your flash of sass.  “Jealous?” she asks, leaning into the red head’s space. 

“Of what?” barks Melissa, crossing her arms across her chest as she watches you go.  “Oh leave off!” she snarks at the older woman’s raised eyebrow.

*

How the day has gone from serious talks and breakout sessions to cocktails by the pool you’re still trying to wrap your head around.  Adjusting your cover up, you head around the side of the pool, heading for the bar.  You hope the day starts to feel a little bit more normal with a drink in your hand. 

Gazing out over the water, you catch sight of Melissa.  Or rather, you catch sight of a lot more of Melissa than you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing before.  Not looking where you’re walking as your eyes drink in the magnificent view there’s no saving yourself as you step forward and your foot finds water instead of concrete.

“Is that?” Melissa asks incredulously at the dramatic splash that comes from the other side of the pool.  She’s up out of her lounger before Barb can comment and the older teacher can only watch on in amusement as the red head storms off in your direction. 

You pull yourself out of the pool, allowing yourself to perch on the edge as you try your best to ignore the chuckles of those around you who have noticed your mishap. 

“What the fuck happened?”

You look up and of course Melissa is there.  Right there, lit up in the sun like an angel, red hair haloed around her head.  It takes a moment to realise that her eyes are roving over you, and not just your face.  You glance down where your cover up now clings to your skin, almost see through. 

Looking up you see Melissa blink rapidly a few times before offering you a hand.  You reach for her, smiling as she helps pull you to your feet.  “Thanks,” you smile sheepishly.  “I guess I should go change.”

“It’s a pool, you’re allowed to be a little wet,” the red head smirks back at you.  “Besides, we’re this close to the bar now, be rude not to take advantage.”

*

Melissa appears at the bar next to you with a huff, grumbling under her breath.  Her attention is focused on trying to get the attention of the barman.  Mumbling though she is, she’s speaking just loud enough for you to make out what she was saying. 

“He was an ass,” you tell her, watching as her head whipped around, finally realising you were there. 

“What?” she asks with a frown, already tipsy. 

“Your ex,” you enlighten her.  You may not have heard the comment that led to her current dip in mood, or ever have met the man, but you know enough.

Her frown only deepens.  “You don’t know a thing about him.”

“I know he didn’t appreciate what he had and left you,” you offer, ordering a drink when the barman appears in front of you, before turning back to Melissa to ask what she wants.  You find her looking at you oddly, her expression unreadable.  She quickly snaps out of it and barks and order at the bartender.

*

Barb has had more than a few drinks, it would appear as she flags you down to sit with her as you pass her table. 

“Sit, sit,” she smiles, trying to reach for your arm and push the chair out next to her at the same time in an uncoordinated matter. 

Catching her hands, you still her as you slide into the seat beside her to placate her.  Her gaze is a little unfocused, her words edging towards slurred.  You hadn’t quite realised how drunk she was, but then again, looking around the room, it would have been more of a surprise for her to be sober. 

“Don’t call that woman,” she tells you, leaning into your space.

“What woman?” you frown.

“That woman who gave you her number,” says Barbara like it’s obvious. 

You try not to think about the fact that for Barb to know, Melissa must have mentioned it.  That it’s been on her mind enough to mention it to the older woman.  “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“She gave me her number,” you point out.  “I don’t think she would mind.”

Barb shakes her head.  “Not her.  Her,” she says, nodding across the room to where Melissa is standing. 

You cross your arms across your chest.  “What has Melissa got to do with anything?”

Barb raises a single eyebrow, the action still smooth and effective despite her drunkenness and it makes you blush. 

Averting your gaze, you shake your head.  “It doesn’t matter what I feel,” you sigh.  “She’s not…She thinks I’m some stupid kid.”

What you don’t see, is Melissa standing close enough behind your chair to catch your words.

*

Somewhere after speaking to Barb you decide that trying to be the sober parent of your little Abbott family just isn’t working.  You’ve lost track of most of them, and honestly, you’ve given up trying to find them.  They’re all adults and can fend for themselves.

You still have eyes on Barb and Melissa though, the former dancing up a storm and the latter apparently winning an ill-advised drinking competition. 

Not that you can judge, of course.  You know you’ve drunk more than you should, feeling pleasantly buzzed from your seat in the corner of the bar.  You should call it a night before you do something you’ll regret, like call the woman Barbara told you not to.  Sober, you wouldn’t.  Drunk, you’re flattered enough and wouldn’t say no to the company. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up out of your seat and head towards the elevators.  Pushing the button, you watch the numbers light up as the lift descends.  You squeak in surprise when a strong pair of hands land on your hips, turning you around as a plump pair of lips meet you own.

“I don’t think you’re some stupid kid.”

You blink slowly a few times, taking in the woman before you.  Melissa.  Melissa Schemmenti just kissed you.  You shouldn’t, but you don’t have it in you to deny yourself the pleasure of feeling her lips against yours once more.  You kiss her back with enthusiasm, not protesting when she backs you into the elevator as it opens and moaning as your back hits the wall of the small metallic box, the weight of Melissa pressed against you. 

You’ve always admired her curves.  Pressed against you they’re a dream. 

The clearing of a throat far to close snaps you out of your living dream and you feel Melissa take a step back, biting her lip as she guiltily throws a glance over her shoulder, registering Barb standing in the elevator, her back to you both as if she hasn’t just witnessed exactly what you were both doing. 

Standing close, you grin at the devious smirk being aimed your way by a certain red head.  There’s a dangerous glimmer of mischief in her eyes.  Smudged lipstick and mussed hair from where you hands couldn’t help but run thought it complete the look.  The woman is a work of art. 

You look up as the elevator doors chime open, realising this is your floor.  Stepping forward, you slip past Barb, who merely raises an eyebrow.  You throw a look back at Melissa, who sways forward as though to follow you, before hesitating. 

The doors slide shut, and honestly, it’s probably for the best.

You miss the dark chuckle Barb lets out as the lift begins to ascend once more.

“What you laughing at?” asks Melissa, scowling.  She’s annoyed with herself for hesitating.  She knows what she wants, and she just let it walk out of the elevator.

“You two think you’re subtle?” the older woman drawls.  “She has more of your lipstick on than you do.”

*

If PECSA was party central the night before, it was hangover central the morning after.  You’re sitting outside on the low wall, sunglasses firmly in place, your phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as you take in the cool morning air. 

“You regret what happened last night?”

You turn to see Melissa, similarly attired.  “What?”

She comes to stand beside the wall on which you’re sat, her gaze wandering anywhere but you as she speaks.  “I came to your room last night.  You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you,” you admit, watching as her head whips around.  “Too busy throwing up everything I ever drank.”  You feel the blush dusting your cheeks, but continue.  This feels too important to let a little embarrassment stop you.  You take off your sunglasses so she can see your face as you speak,  “I have many regrets about my choices last night, but what happened in the elevator isn’t one of them.”

A slow smile spreads across her lips as she shifts to take a seat next to you.  She slips her own sunglasses off, finally letting you see her eyes.  “Good to know,” she murmurs.  “Me neither.”

You can’t help but smile at that.  You notice her gaze wandering and realise she staring at the phone still clutched in your hand. 

“You planning on using that number you were so interested in yesterday?”

“Honestly?” you ask, seeing the uncertainty in her face as she nods regardless.  “That woman was hot, and while I was more than a little flattered she gave me her number…she isn’t a patch on you.”

Pale cheeks blush adorably pink at your words.  Melissa isn’t used to hearing things like what from you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you scoff, nudging her shoulder.  “You’ve seen yourself in a mirror, right?  And you needn’t think I go falling in pools over every pretty woman I see.”

“I really distracted you that badly, huh?” she asks, a little of her confidence returning.

You bump her shoulder with yours once more.  “Shut up.”

A gentle hand moves to cup your cheek, turning you to face her as Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your lips.  “For the record,” she says quietly.  “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid.  I think you’re beautiful.”

You take in a shuddering breath.  It all feels too good to be true.  “What happens at PECSA stays at PECSA?” you ask sadly.

“I’ve never been one for playing by the rules,” she smirks back at you, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before pushing herself to her feet and offering a hand to you.  “Come on, we gotta go find Barb.  Reunite her with her shoes, sobriety and sanity.”

You take the hand being offered like a lifeline, grinning as Melissa starts walking, swinging your joined hands between you.  It’s only as you pass through the front doors to the building that her words even register.  “Wait?  Her shoes?”

[loweffortopinions]

There’s a saying that Rook is the teams therapist, right?

I'll add this: In the future, I'll work with helping younger students, and some of the things Rook says are what I’d say to kids aged 10–14 to help them see the bigger picture, some variant of:

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” “Take a deep breath, we’ll figure this out.” “You need to think about how your actions affect others.”

That’s part of why the game is tiring to me. It’s like I’m living out my future work in game—just less fulfilling. Because kids make shit interesting, they don’t always agree. They push back, argue, question everything. I have to earn their trust and convince them to see my point (or they have to convince me).

In Veilguard, though? No resistance. No pushback. The characters fall into line so quickly that I never get the sense there's any real disagreement. Ever. I've had more lively and nuanced discussions with children. Yet the game pretends like there is real conflict! Take Davrin and Lucanis: the setup works fine—Davrin has every reason to be upset after losing hundreds of comrades in battle, and he questions why Lucanis missed the shot at Ghil, and if Spite had anything to do with it. Fair.

But then it just… fizzles out? By the time they kiss and make up, the real issue is ignored. Instead, Davrin says something about Lucanis being “an assassin for hire,” and Lucanis replies that Davrin is self-righteous. Guys... I don't think that was the problem to begin with?

What changed? What reason does Davrin have to suddenly trust Lucanis? If anything, I’m on board with Davrin’s original thought! Why should anyone trust this guy? Especially my Rook who's also a Warden.

Maybe Davrin’s just tougher than most—able to deal with a lot of shit and move forward without answer... or it's because of Assan: The emotional support pet.

Ah. Now it makes sense, I guess.

Also: The whole Davrin is such a dad to Assan thing? Not cute. Personal ick of mine to treat animals like children. Companion? Fair. A living being you care A LOT about? Sure. You being the animals Mom/Dad/Parent? No. // Not a personal attack, you do you. I have friends like this. Only saying it because it turned me away from Davrins character; it is a core part of his personality I couldn't ignore. //

[thatdisasterauthor]

Okay, so, very quick overview here! Emergency management has always been around in some form or fashion, but having it organized at a federal level on an ongoing basis rather than a per disaster basis tends to happen less often. Why varies from country to country.

It's also important to consider that many countries may have a federalized RESPONSE system (such as using their military to deal with the immediate effects of a disaster) but not a federalized RECOVERY system. FEMA, while they do dabble in response, is primarily focused on recovery/post-disaster aid, and pre-disaster mitigation efforts.

If you don't have a federalized recovery system, like the US pre-FEMA, usually what happens is the big disaster hits somewhere, and then whatever governing body holds the purse strings will pass some sort of legislation to provide funding to deal with that specific disaster. Rinse and repeat as each disaster happens. That's what the US used to do as well.

Then we had this interesting dovetail of massively increasing populations, those populations moving into disaster prone areas as they colonized the west, and an increase in consumerism that meant a lot more people had a lot more to lose as the 1800s faded and the 1900s began. This is when we start to see a more formalized disaster response system forming in the US.

The Army Corps of Engineers technically started in 1802, but I'm not sure off the top of my head how much specific disaster response and recovery work they did back then as compared to today. We also had some various acts and other legislation passed over the years that was meant to provide for more than this or that disaster as they happened, but it was all still smaller scale.

We had a few other major disasters over the 1800s/early 1900s that were responded to by various bits of the military, and private entities like the Red Cross, and we started seeing more legislation about stuff like building codes, mitigation of future disasters, etc.. But it was all still rather piecemeal.

Then, then we've got the founding of the Forest Service in the very early 1900s. Which, weirdly, does not get brought up in the conversation very often? But the Forest Service was founded on the idea and promise of being able to control wildfires, to control a disaster. The accuracy of that idea is a whole different discussion, but the point is it was a nation wide, federally backed push to have a standing force for handling JUST disasters. It nearly failed until the 1910 Great Burn burned 3million acres across multiple states in a couple of days, and people realized that, "hey, maybe having people who know what to do about that is good actually???"

From there we get into WWI/WWII which resulted in a lot of studies about how people behave in disasters and how governments should handle that sort of stuff. It also resulted in the creation of the Office of Civil Defense which handled stuff like evacuation prep, volunteer coordination, etc.. A precursor to FEMA as it stands now.

Next we got the Federal Disaster Act of 1950 which created permanent and general legislation regarding disaster relief, but it was heavily focused on floods specifically. In the 60s Kennedy created the Office of Emergency Preparedness to deal with natural disasters and we were dealing with all the nuclear war fears at the time. But we were still passing legislation pretty ad-hoc for specific disasters, and disasters were getting more and more common and worse and worse. The first billion dollar disaster was Hurricane Betsy in 1965.

In 1968 we see the creation of the National Flood Insurance Program, which became mandatory in the early 70s. The focus in nuclear response also shifted in the 70s to how to evacuate entire metropolitan areas. And THIS is when FEMA was founded by Carter in 1978/79. They wanted to have an way to handle things as a WHOLE rather than dozens of little pieces scattered all over the place.

Now, FEMA isn't perfect. Far from it. We do still pass ad-hoc legislation per disaster all the time. (FEMA is intentionally under-funded so politicians can swoop in and save the day for their constituents whenever a disaster hits them.) But FEMA does at least provide a better central structure to focus that ad-hoc legislation around, among other things.

And once again I have said I was going to write a short post and then not done that, haha. But, to sum up: it's not that the US one day decided to switch to a central federalized system of emergency management, it's that we slowly progressed towards it over two centuries.

Someone is trying to argue with me on TikTok that FEMA was actually founded in the early 1800s (and that before that people just died in disasters because there was no help at all).

And I just. Ma'am. No. You are so far down the wrong rabbit hole you're having dinner with the Red Queen.

[wilted-xilk]

so i've classically been a very pro-christmas jew because like!! this is so cute!! i am so happy that you guys have a holiday that you love so much and get so excited for. i don't really get annoyed by christmas and i've never understood why people do.

but... it seems like as the years go on im noticing the world around me acknowledging hanukkah (and the other holidays that fall around this time) less and less, and that sucks. i know everything is weird right now but we're still here, we're still jewish, we still celebrate holidays too. and it sucks that, in a sea of thousands and thousands of christmassy products, i can't even find wrapping paper or mantle decor that isn't covered in explicit "red-and-green-i-want-santa-to-blow-my-back-out-christ-is-messiah-holly-jolly-silent-night" christmasness and it's just getting... a little bit tiring.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

ngl, I'm beginning to take issue with how in conversations about anti-intellectualism almost automatically, the face of girls and women will be slapped on the problem.

[bronzebluemind]

It’s been 0 weeks since the World Cup finale, 17 weeks to go until sgp and 34 weeks to go until next season.

[hermitagereheadcanons]

this isn't an ask or a request, but I hope you could still post it, because since I found this account the wave of love for this fandom crushed me yet again

not to disclose who I am too much, but here's a fact: I was dealing with pre schoolers as a part of my education(or, well, practice). around the same time I discovered the wonderful world of hermitcraft age regress fics. I myself don't regress, but I find those works insanely comforting. anyways I mentioned my education because, while in fics the looking after might be Way to soft and all-allowing (that YES can be very bad even short term), most of the works show it really well. and not just comforting, but as if the authors know Very Well they are portraying not a parent figure per say, but a "cool uncle that looks after you" type character and I LOVE IT. maybe this says smth about my childhood, maybe it's the overwhelming feeling of love coming from a friendship, but still. kudos to everyone who writes age re in this fandom, I love you.

I still haven't explored the topic of age regression as a study (meaning: I haven't really looked up the real world instances), but I have a feeling that learning about this phenomena in psychology feelings-first from a fictional work was a good idea.

Your ask has actually reminded me why I love this blog. I've been a bit out of touch with the fandom lately, but the sense of community that comes from gathering around something so niche is really nice and I love hearing about it.

I'm glad this type of content can be comforting and enjoyable even if you don't regress!

Also, when I originally had the idea to start this blog, there was very little agere-related content in this fandom that didn't emphasize a parental, set-in-stone caregiver as a key feature. I'm happy to see so much more variety in how people portray it in relation to friends and partners.

[wellzofyouth]

That one post of my mine predictably aged like fine wine. Never let somebody on comic twitter in the writer's room😭😭😭 Like imagine a 1 to 1 adaptation of literally any event?? -1b at the box office. "Who are these people???"

[child-of-hurin]

Devastated that I can’t reblog that post about Gen having mother issues (which I agree with wholeheartedly) because it is written in a way that implies that he’s into Irene because he sees something mother-ish in her (cringe)

[antlereed]

i really think that the hells have taken trust to mean something that it really isnt, and are all conveniently forgetting each others histories in order to push their preferred brand of "trust" without really trying to explain themselves

[snapbackslide]

ramen dinner with the girls tonight 🤩❤️‍🔥

[no1ryomafan]

In my constant brain rotations of “why are people in the west so hard on mecha aside from the fandom can be a bit unfriendly” I think one thing I realized as much as I hate to say is how mecha is sometimes treated remind me of the constant hatred superhero stuff gets.

It’s such a weird comparison because with mecha I do not know what the root of it was-and I’d love to know why but I feel there’s either no clear answer or there is one and it’s stupid-where as for superheroes in the west while there’s still a dedicated community the mainstream audiences have become tired of them due to over-saturation, which I understand, but it’s caused such a massive dismal to the entire genre of it much like mecha.

People think superhero stories can’t have any substance because it’s all about fighting and not about the characters- yet forget the SIGNIFICANT impact they had to so much pop culture. How superhero stories were rooted within comic popularity, how superheroes inspired countless of stories, even so far as reaching japan since so much early anime was taken off of western media which birthed its own genre of superheroes. It’s no different to how mecha help started up the anime industry making it one of the most important genres to japans history, yet most people don’t know it and belittle it.

Yet in superhero story cases it’s even WORSE when people are against it yet then go to see one superhero movie because it’s animated and put it on a pedestal and don’t bother to try other superhero content even though they consumed is no different from the norm. It’s the exact same shit when people watch eva and then think all other mechas don’t compare to it, when the genre always had darker, mature and emotional elements, just only a select few decide to canter to a audience who doesn’t even accept what genre it’s from which makes it all the more frustrating to deal with.

I’m someone who’s hardly into superhero stuff even if some of it catches my eye but it sucks to see that the situation is pretty identical to how mecha is seen, that I can’t help to feel sympathetic whenever I see some comic book fans upset at the mainstream audience even if they too can be a little hostile.

[b-rainlet]

The way women experience horror is so much more interesting than men

[maeamian]

Funny to think that if given the chance to go back in time to oh say 1904, practically any modern second year physics major could duplicate Einstein's Great Year, hell if they'd completed the year they could co-opt a lot of the early quantum mechanists as well. Hell, if you handed my chemist grandpa a modern high school chemistry textbook when he was 25 or so he could have revolutionized the field simply by knowing several answers in advance because they're now so fundamental to how these sciences are learned. Funny how quickly things move when they don't seem to be going very fast at all.