#you know. the reason they're all masked

[ceramic-warlords]

hm maybe i should not pursue other sleep token fans after all.

[lucifer-kane]

just saw a twitter post saying malevolent tumblr is media illiterate because of the way they critique malevolent/harlan. HUH.

[transmechanicus]

Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

Mumpearl Drabble please :3?

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

PearlescentMoon has gone by many names: Peril. Farmer Queen. Santa Perla. Madre de Girasoles. The Great Lunar Neighbour. Even Moonatrix Octa. She was no stranger to deification. She'd been worshipped by a wide variety of people. By her own Helianthias, by the Harengons of Sanctuary, by Jeremys of Stratos: and, now, even by The Order of Octa. And yet, out of all these followings, out of all these flocks of religions, cults and sects dedicated to her image… there was only one she was interested in. The Mooners. Or, rather, its founder. And his name was Mumbo Jumbo. She had to admit, it was odd. She’d been worshipped by countless mortals throughout history, but this wasn't just another mindless devotee, no, before that, he had been someone she'd known; somebody she'd loved. A friend. Before he had been a Mooner he had been apart of Boatem. He still was. It was surreal to see the same man she'd laughed with, the same man who had teased her and taught her what it was like to love and be loved and be human… worship the very thing about her that wasn't. Worship the idea of her, worship the concept of a omnipotent, despotic rock in the sky, worship everything about herself she hated. She had hated being a goddess. That's why she had come to Hermitcraft in the first place. She was sick of being treated as a stagnant notion - something simultaneously too abstract to comprehend and yet something superficial enough to be classified by one word: perfect. She wasn't a person, just an idea. A deity. But Mumbo Jumbo had taught her how to be a person. No… he'd been the one who had made her a person. Or maybe he had just showed her that she had always been one. He made her laugh. Cry. Love. Hate. Learn. Live. Experience. He taught her how to feel, want, explore, be… he had showed her the wonders of this world, shown her that everything alive was sacred and unkillable, that this planet was alive and thus beautiful. He had made her fall in love with the dull world that she had grown to loathe over the centuries all over again. He had made her fall in love with him. And so, watching him fall in love, not with her — not with the genuine, real version of herself she'd become — but with postulated perception of herself she'd been trying so hard to unbecome? The dehumanized idea of what she was supposed to be? The version of herself he'd unwittingly taught her she wasn't defined by? It felt like death. It felt like she was dying. Was this heartache? Could somebody who never had a heart have it break? Pearl loved Mumbo. But Mumbo only loved the Moon. Not Pearlescent.

The moon had two faces; one of which was always hidden from sight. One face could never be seen the human eye. No matter how much they tried, no matter what they used — whether it be telescopes, binoculars, spectrometers, or observation stations… nobody could ever see the far side of the moon. Nobody could ever see her in full display. Only in facets; fragments. In some ways, Pearl resented this fact. Nobody could ever know her; not truly. Nobody could never know her in her entirety. What would happen if they knew the new Australian Hermit wasn't from Australia at all, but from the moon, anyway? No, actually, she wasn't from the moon, she was the moon. She was just the actual, literal moon. That big 'ol floating rock in the sky? The one rapidly plummeting towards their planet on a path set to destruction? Yeah, that was her. Well, not exactly her, but her divine shell, which missed its' goddess after she had taken mortal form so much it was trying to reunite with her by colliding with Hermitcraft… Oopsie-daisy, yeah, my bad, sorry about the impending doom! On the slim chance they didn't immediately kick her off the server due to her very presence being a threat not only to everyone but the world itself's safety, what would they think of her, then? If the fact half of the Hermit's first instincts were to start cults around The Moon in response to its enlargement was any indication, something told her they wouldn't treat her like a regular Hermit anymore. They'd start treating her exactly like what she'd come here to get away from: a goddess. She wouldn't be Pearl anymore. She wouldn't have friends anymore. Just followers. She hated that sometimes she considered it. Oh, how easy it would be, to tell Mumbo she was the Great Lunar Neighbour he loved so much. That she was who he'd been unknowingly worshipping this entire time; she was his goddess. Her feelings for him would be reciprocated in a heartbeat. He'd love her in the same way she loved him; endlessly and entirely. …But he wouldn't. Not really. He wouldn't love her. He'd love the idealized idea of her he thought she was, this version of her he'd made up in his head. And even saying he'd love her would be a stretch… no, he wouldn't love her. He'd revere her, worship her, exalt her… but not love. Not in the ways mortals loved each other. He wouldn't love her for who she was, but for what she was. And, so, she wouldn't tell him. Because as long as he didn't know, there was still a chance he could love her; the actual her. She just had to be patient. Though it was times like this her patience really ran thin.

"I don't understand," Mumbo sobbed; the sound was hoarse, gravelly and guttural. He hadn't slept in… nobody knew how long, and the hysteric delirium of sleep-deprivation seemed to finally be catching up with him. "I — I did… I did everything right! I'm doing everything right, I don't — I don't understand what I did wrong. What am I doing wrong?" He cried. "Shh, shh… you're not doing anything wrong, Mumbs. You didn't do anything wrong. You're perfect. You've done everything perfect," Pearl consoled him, running her fingertips' through his hair in an assuaging manner, trying to coax him to calmness in the same way somebody might try to coax a crying infant back to sleep in the late hours of the night… which, was what she was doing, really, in a sense. His locks were unkempt, disheveled and sloven, bedraggled despite the fact he hadn't touched a bed for weeks. But even in his grotty state, to her, he was still gorgeous. He was still perfect. "Then why is she still mad? I — I made her a temple, I made her altars, I built her shrines, and — and — and — I even convinced Boatem to give up their beds! I even —  I don't understand… I thought — I thought that would fix it… I thought that would make her happy, but she's still — is it not enough? Am I not doing enough..?" Mumbo sniffled as he looked at her with hollow, sunken eyes, a strange mixture of devotion and desperation on his face. His eyebags were so heavy they weighed down his cheeks' like an anchor, an anvil. "Can't she tell I love her? I — I just want to make her happy. I just want her to know — I — I just… I just want her to know how much I love her." Pearl's heart ached. I know. "She knows," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from hitching, trying to control her pitch. "She knows you love her. She… she loves you too. So, so much." I love you too. I love you so, so much. "No," Mumbo shook his head with a strangled snuffle, dismissing her words as nothing but empty consolations. He didn't know how true they really were, he didn't know they weren't just a friend's weak attempt to lift his spirits, but that they were a love confession from the very God he had devoted his entire being too. That she really did love him, too, more than he could possibly fathom. "If — if she loved me, she… she wouldn't still be upset. If she knew how much I loved her, she wouldn't be — she wouldn't still be causing earthquakes and stealing blocks, and — I just, I need — I need to try harder. I need to show her, I need her to know, I need her to see…" No, you just need to see. You just need to see it's me. I'm right here - why can't you see? I'm not mad. I was never mad. I could never be mad at you. I love you. Please, please, please… stop. I don't want this. I'd never want you to do this to yourself. But he never listened. He would never listen to Pearl; and the one voice he would listen to was one she couldn't admit was her own. It was infuriating… He loved her so, so much, too much, and yet he didn't love her at all. He could never love her while he still loved who she had been. Who had to be. He could never love her while his love for her was destroying him. It was killing him. And, so, it seemed there was only one solution. She had to make him hate her. She had to make him hate The Moon. She had to make him hate her as much as she hated herself. And with the fact he didn't already, despite the fact her old vessel had actively been spreading insanity amongst the Hermits, causing earthquakes and disasters, destroying the landscape? It would take some drastic measures. Lengths she didn't want to go to. But knew she had too. For his sake and her own.

When she'd abandoned her celestial form, she'd abandoned most of her deific abilities with it. Fortunately, not all of them. She had enough power in reserve to call upon a mite of her old body down to Earth; a meteor. Little more than an atom compared to her mass. But enough to serve as a teensy deposit of her powers she could tap into and exploit. Enough to influence those around around her with The Moon's voice. Enough to make it clear love wouldn't work. Enough to make it clear there was only one option.

"…'I must have them'? Who must she have? Who must she have? Is it us? Must she have me? Must she have Doc? Who? Who does she need…?"

"He who doth preach to us on the first day of the server… so doth shall be returned to dust first." "His name is Mumbo Jumbo."

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

Make love, not war. But if love doesn't work… use war.

-- so. uh. you asked for a drabble. this is uh..... this is 1.8k words. i may have. i may have gotten a little carried away. approximately 18 times the requested length carried away. I'M SO SORRY. I AM....... SO SORRY. I GOT A LITTLE BIT ILL ABOUT THEM. I HOPE THIS IS OK LOL. ANYWAY. thinking about hc s8 mumbo and the moon's strange relationship......... what do you MEAN mumbo made a cult and a temple and a shrine completely dedicated to the moon? what do you MEAN the first thing the moon did when it gained control over ren and doc's minds was make them sacrifice mumbo jumbo specifically ? and then cub ALSO sacrificed [an imitation of] mumbo jumbo SPECIFICALLY to appease the moon ? the moon was JUST as insane about mumbo as mumbo was about the moon. mumpearl is real guys i don't know what to tell you they're obsessed with each other they're deranged yuri

[averlym]

"careful, or i'll quote that"

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Flourish AU - Dragonheart Pirkko - Durmond Priory

Champion of the Caustic Elder Dragon

"Lasting change isn't gentle. It's harsh, abrasive, and inescapable. Either we'll adapt or we'll die trying."

"A better world starts with deciding what we're prepared to lose."

[invinciblerodent]

an issue i'm finding myself (or, my elf, eeyyyy) running into is that as their relationship progresses, Astarion and Iona become progressively harder to write together, because I'm kind of finding that the closer they are, the less they express themselves verbally.

like, for the earlier scenes, there is a lot of semi-clever back-and-forth which I enjoy writing, I love silly banter and teasing/flirting/bonding, and since they don't touch much early on, most of the relationship development happens in dialogue. but act 3?????? a lot of the emotional sludge that is between them feels most natural to, idk, leave unsaid, and have them rely on the understanding that they had been kind of hesitantly fostering since early act 2.

i know this is a stupid fucking thing to be gnawing on, especially considering that nobody has ever read a word of this damn fic, it's just.

it's a lot easier to write fun dialogue, than to somehow communicate, clearly and without headhopping or getting overly flowery/sanctimonious about it,

"aight chucklefucks, in this scene, he's climbing wordlessly under the covers with her both by way of an unwarranted apology that wasn't actually his to give (y'know, for the whole 'attacked in the middle of the night, bit to shit by his sibling while he stood by uselessly' deal that happened the previous night and is making him feel rotten and guilty for some reason), and as an acknowledgement that he's rattled, scared, and feeling vulnerable, which is why him actively seeking comfort in her instead of slinking off to lick his wounds alone is a big fuckin' deal."

"on the flipside, her not saying anything or asking why he's standing at the foot of her bed but just opening her arms to receive that silent request, invite him in (like one would a vampire, geddit), and giving him the affection with no preamble or caveat, is simultaneously an acceptance of that apology, a confirmation that despite all that's been going on during the daytime she still purposefully elects to trust him, and a reassurance that she is there, she's alive, unhurt, and her feelings haven't changed because of all this either."

"this cuddle is emotionally significant, it intentionally mirrors the one from which they were spurned by the vampire attack as a way to show that regardless of what happens, this undercurrent of tenderness still exists, but nobody is going to say a goddamn word about it, because not only would putting any of this into words be far, far beyond both of them in terms of emotional intelligence, acknowledging that he views her as a point of security and that her anxiety is eased by easing his would also feel wrong and like whoever mentions it is speaking fluent therapese. plus, breaking the silence with lengthy internal monologues would also fucking ruin the simplicity and the impact of the whole goddamn thing, even though all that actually bloody happens is 1.) she flips the covers back, 2.) he climbs in and nuzzles her chest, and 3.) she pulls the covers over his shoulder."

meanwhile i'm just looking at the maybe two actual paragraphs that i've written like

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[anothermouse]

I find it weird how ppl will say for reasons that systems are fake is that multiple alters talk similar or have similar interests. Have u ever met siblings. They talk similar and have similar interests because they've spent years together ya dork, as systems start to get along more they're gonna start sharing more interests and speech patterns just like you with people you spend a lot of time with lol. Also they all share a life, they have to be able to act like each other to get by and seem "normal."

[jaythelay]

"Bloodeborne is playing on PC!"

Correction, it's running on an emulator and that emulator is running the game on your PC.

You ain't coding a port from the base up idiot haha. You're just emulating the console's OS essentially.

That's infinitely more accurate and cool than failing verbiage about bloodborne "being on PC" It ain't. It's still very much a console exclusive. That's why you're emulating it. Emulating PS4 on your PC.

Ya got a PS4 emulator that can boot Bloodeborne to it's menu. You did not run bloodeborne on your PC.

It ain't pedantic either. Just simple verbiage that the community, and only this community, has elected to have solely for the meme, and it ain't funny nor exciting. Just sad that Sony likes to gatekeep art.

If a semi has your car in their flatbed while driving, and you're in the driver's seat of the towed car, you are not driving, it's kinda sad to argue otherwise, especially pedantically.

Or more accurately, you're in the passenger's seat making "vroom vroom" noises while daddy's asleep in the driver's seat.

[11-eyed-rook]

"You don't look disabled/trans/bi/like a guy/sick/diabetic/mentally ill/neurodivergent/autistic/in pain"

*Fucking smacks you with my big paws*

[bi-writes]

ghost is such a daddy, isn't he? ;) too bad he's such a dick. (18+)

but it's hard to find a donor. you've been single for practically your whole life, it's the whole reason you're looking to just get pregnant by yourself. you don't need a man--you can walk into a clinic and pick from their little flip book.

but none of them fit what you're looking for. too short, hairline too far back, you don't care for the look in their eyes or the occupation they chose or their descriptions of how much they like model trains and reading george orwell every christmas. they're john does in different colored suits, and they reek of entitlement and the need for perfection and lack the individuality that you crave.

not special, no--you're looking for an edge. and none of them have it.

you're glaring at your lieutenant from three hundred yards away when your eyes soften with realization. ghost is such a bastard to you; he snaps at you easily, uses his obvious stature to overpower you in the most inconvenient of situations, and he always turns his nose up at you for being even slightly less than perfection, just a smidge off your target or just below your personal record.

he demands more of everyone he commands, but you in particular he likes to pick on. you used to think it was because you were the only woman around, but that wasn't it. ghost isn't a misogynist, he's just a right asshole.

but a gorgeous one. not in the way he looks, per say, because his face isn't all that pretty. you've seen his face, glimpses of it, enough to put the puzzle together in your head. he wears mangled skin, torn apart at the seams and scarred to high hell, but ghost is more than just stitched together skin.

he's huge. large and so fucking well in charge. he takes up space, and he does it with intent. spreads his legs when he takes a seat, crosses his arms over his chest when he's standing idly by. his expressions aren't visible under the mask he wears, but it is very obvious when he isn't happy. his glare burns through the fabric, dark eyes narrowed intensely; it is impossible to not understand when ghost is less than amused by you.

he's so capable. you've seen him take apart his gun and put it back together many times. big fingers sliding over metal and fastening it back together with practiced ease. you've seen him haul over two hundred pounds of man over a railing, seen him set up his sniper rifle and shoot a target more than a thousand yards away. he's smart, and he knows what he's doing, and even in the face of uncertainty and chaos, he's oftentimes the voice of reason in the field, and it's sexy.

god, he's so fucking hot. especially when he's rolling up his sleeves, showing off one sleeve of shitty military tattoos and telling the private that's practically in tears what a fucking muppet he is for assembling his standard issue pistol without a fucking magazine loaded into it.

that's what you want.

someone resilient. capable of overcoming tragedy, of finding purpose even when there really isn't anything to live for. the drive of bettering yourself, of not fucking it up, of being able to breathe easy and get out of a corner even when the path ahead is just more of the unknown.

unable to die.

"ever thought of being a father, lieutenant?"

he laughs, bitterly, licking the pad of his thumb before rubbing at a spot on the scope of his rifle.

"fuckin' hate kids," he mutters. "loud. dirty." he grunts. "besides. bloodline dies with me. don't need anymore fuckin' rileys mucking up this place."

you bite your lip. it's not the worst reason you've ever heard. it's just too bad he's exactly the kind of baby daddy you're looking for.

"that's too bad, lieutenant," you purr, standing up. you pass by him, your hips swaying and brushing against his shoulder. it's enough of a touch that his gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes flickering to the curve of your ass as you leave. "you'd make such a good daddy."

the fuck?

it's hard to focus. you keep bending over in front of him; dropping papers, picking things up, leaning over desks just to make his face twitch under the mask. you're constantly in his line of sight, wearing the tightest fucking shirts he's ever seen. cleavage on display, definitely a violation of protocols that no one is enforcing, and it's making his head spin as you lick chocolate off your fingers and swipe it off the curve of your breast. he thinks you must be mad when you make eye contact with him and keep it as you slip two fingers into your mouth and suck.

the worst was when he was stuck in the back of a humvee with you. the back was packed, soldiers pressed together as they rode back to base. he was sweaty and exhausted, leaning his head back as the truck rattled along the dirt road. on a particularly rough bump, you bounced into his lap, ass pressed back against his pelvis. on instinct, one gloved hand caught you by the curve of your waist, and you hummed as you leaned back against him.

"sorry, lieutenant," you had cooed, in that soft, honeyed voice he hated. "am i hurting you?"

"fuck you, sergeant," he had snapped, but his growl was cut short when you arched your back a little, nestling your ass against the fucking hard rock in his pants.

"just happy to see me then?"

acckkk, a fucking fiend, you are. pressing up against him when you slip into line in front of him in the mess hall. asking him for help because your aim is off, just to look at him from over your shoulder and give him that smile. the absolute doe eyes you give him when he berates you for the hundredth time that day, just for you to mumble back, "oh...yes, of course, sir..."

ngghhh...and he's thinking about you. thinking about smoothing a hand down your back as he bends you over a desk. thinking about what it would be like if you climbed over him on his cot and sat your fat ass down onto his face. thinking about the sounds you'd make, the big, wet eyes you'd give him, how good you'd look in his bed and wearing his clothes and cumming on his cock--

"the fuck are y'doin' ta me?" he growls in your ear. you blink up at him, tilting your head back, leaning against his door.

"johnny said you were training, so i thought i'd wait for you. got something real important to talk to you about."

you smile at him innocently, ducking under his arm as you slink into his room. when he shuts the door, you spin around to face him again, giggling.

"there's something i want."

"out with it."

"something i need."

"fuckin' tolk then, yeah?"

"want a baby, lieutenant."

"yeah, right mad about tha', luv."

"want your baby."

he laughs, humorless, "be fuckin' honest."

but you are honest. you're honest when you smile wider, and you're honest when you turn around. you're honest when you bend over onto your forearms against the cot in his room, and you're honest when you shimmey your trousers just low enough, right under your ass, showing off the wet cunt you've had since watching his arms flex as he stacked boxes after breakfast.

he steps forward, leaning over, smoothing two big hands up your plush thighs before spreading your ass, watching your little hole pucker. he smirks, chuckling low.

"'f y'want t'be a riley so bad, don't need to 'ave m'baby, swee'eart," he murmurs, but the echo of his belt undoing clinks in the room anyways. you squirm a little when you hear the zipper of his pants.

"but i want it," you whine, and you slide your arms out in front of you, pressing back against him as you grip the thin sheets on his bed. "i want it!"

"shhhhh," he scolds, gripping his cock with a calloused hand and shoving it between your thighs. you moan as he wets his cock along your folds, grinding slow, getting himself nice and slick. "y'want m'baby, swee'eart? wanna 'ave my cubs? gonna be bears, love. they're gonna split y'open, got such a little cunt."

you cry out, pressing back against him.

"want it! i want it!"

ghost chuckles again, laying over you, his weight pinning you down as he laces his fingers with yours. he's so big, you can feel him heavy and throbbing between your thighs. you need it, even if it doesn't take, even if he just takes you apart right now, you need it.

"you'll make such a good mama though," he mutters, mostly to himself. "fuck...you'll get so bloody nice and fat. nnghh..." he lets go of one of your hands to smack his paw against one side of your ass, gripping it tight and jiggling it. "every part of ya. right for the taking, luvvie. oll f'me."

he reaches down between you, notching the head at your entrance before sinking in easy. you're so wet now, dripping between your thighs, and he grunts as his hips meet your ass quick.

"tits'll get so big..." he smacks his lips together before giving you a heavy thrust. "fuckin' hell...takin' y'out afta this...gonna make you a fuckin' riley today. how's tha' sound, aye?"

you gurgle a little, a line of drool dribbling down your chin. he leans over, pushing his mask up, and he licks your spit off your face, his breath hot as he starts to pick up the pace, fucking into you quick.

"want y'just like this, every day," he growls in your ear. "in m'bed...spread out for me..." he sucks on the edge of your ear, making you cry. "gonna 'ave y'for oll three meals, swee'eart--fuck--until we know it takes."

you smile, your cheek smushed into the bed and rubbing raw against the sheets as he fucks into you from behind. his big hands squeeze your own, holding onto you tight, and you push back against him, your orgasm coming unexpectedly as he babbles in your ear about your tight cunt, your pretty face, the perfect place for him to empty his cock. it makes your vision go white, but you don't feel satiated until he holds his hips against you from behind and curses as he spills inside.

so creamy, slick and soft, but he refuses to waste a single drop. he keeps his pelvis against you, wrapping a forearm around your waist and yanking you up until your back meets his chest. you giggle, dizzy and a little drunk, leaning your head back against him.

"knew you'd fuck me," you mumble, sticking your tongue out, not satisfied until he leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and kissing you wet and sloppy. he laughs, his chest rumbling, and you put your hands over his, scratching along his skin as he licks into your mouth.

"tha' right, luv? why's that?"

you giggle. "because i always get what i want, simon."

next

[ms-demeanor]

Friends, I think we need to talk about Covid.

I want to get a few caveats out there before I start:

I am aware that there are people who need to exercise extreme caution about Covid; I live with someone who has two solid organ transplants and who is at the most immune compromised level of immune compromised. *I* have to be extremely cautious about covid.

Masking does prevent a certain level of transmission, and people who think they may have covid should mask and people who are concerned that they may be at high risk for covid should mask.

You should be vaccinated and boosted with the most recent vaccines that are available to you; covid is highly transmissible and very serious, you do not want to get covid and if you do get covid you don't want it to be severe and if you do get covid you don't want to give someone else covid and up-to-date vaccinations are the best way to reduce transmission and help to prevent severe cases of Covid.

We should be testing before going to any gatherings, and informing people if we test positive after gatherings, and testing if we suspect we have been exposed.

It is bullshit that there aren't good protections for workers who have covid; you should not be expected to go to work when you are testing positive

It is bullshit that people who are testing positive are not isolating for other reasons; if you have Covid you should not be going out and exposing other people to it even if you are experiencing mild symptoms or no symptoms.

We do need better ventilation systems for many kinds of spaces. Schools need better ventilation, restaurants need better ventilation, doctor's offices and hospitals and office buildings need better ventilation and better ventilation can reduce covid transmission.

I want to make it clear that Covid is real and there are real steps that individuals and systems can take to prevent transmission, and that there are systems that are exerting pressures that needlessly expose people to covid (the fact that you can lose your job if you don't come in when you're testing positive, mainly; also the fact that covid rapid tests should be ubiquitous and cheap/free and are not).

All of that being said: I'm seeing some posts circulating about how we're at an extremely high level of transmission and the REAL pandemic is being hidden from us and, friends, I'm pretty sure that is just incorrect and we're spreading misinformation.

I'm thinking of this video in particular, in which the claim is made that "your mystery illness is covid" in spite of negative tests. The guy in the video says that there's nothing else that millions of people could be getting a day, and that he predicted this because a wastewater spike in December meant that there was a huge spike in cases.

I've also seen people saying that deaths are where they were in 2021-2022, and that we're still at "a 9/11 a week" of excess deaths and friends, I'm not seeing great evidence for any of these claims.

I know that we (in the US, which is where the numbers I'm going to be citing are from) feel abandoned by the CDC and the fact that tracking cut off in May of 2023. But that only cut off for the federal tracking.

I live in LA county and LA county sure as shit is still tracking Covid.

If you want a clearer picture, you can see the daily case count over time compared to the daily death count:

Okay, you might say, but that's just LA.

Alright, so here's Detroit:

Right, but maybe that's CDC data and you don't trust the CDC at this point.

Okay, here's fatalities in New York tracked through New York's state data collection:

It's harder to toggle around the site for South Dakota, but you can compare their cases and hospitalizations and deaths for early 2022

To cases and hospitalizations and deaths from early 2024

And see that there's really no comparison.

Okay, you might say, but people are testing less. If they're testing less of course we're not seeing spikes, and they're testing less because fewer tests are available.

Alright, people are definitely testing less than they were in 2021 and 2022. Hospitalization for Covid is probably the most clear metric because you know those people have covid for sure, the couldn't not test for it.

Here are hospitalizations over time for LA:

Here are hospitalizations over time for New York:

As vaccination rates have gone up, cases, deaths, and hospitalizations have gone down. It IS clear that there are case spikes in the winter, when it is cold and people are indoors in poorly ventilated spaces and people are more susceptible to respiratory infections as a result of cold air weakening the protection offered by our mucous membranes, and that is something that we will have to take precautions about for the forseeable future, just as we should have always been taking similar precautions during flu season.

So I want to go point-by-point through some of the arguments made in that video because I'm seeing a bunch of people talking about how "THEY" don't want you to know about the virus surge and buds that is just straight up conspiracism.

So okay, first off, most of what that video is based on is spikes in wastewater data, not spikes in cases. This is because people don't trust CDC data on cases, but I'd say to maybe check out your regional data on cases. I don't actually trust the CDC that much, but I know people who do tracking of hospitalizations in LA county, I trust them a lot more. Wastewater data does correlate with increases in cases, but this "second largest spike of the entire pandemic" thing is misleading; wastewater reporting is pretty highly variable and you can't just accept that a large spike in covid in wastewater means that we're in just as bad a place in the pandemic as we were in 2022. We simply have not seen the surge of hospitalizations and deaths that we would expect to see in the weeks following that spike in wastewater data if wastewater data was reflective of community transmission.

The next claim is that "there is nothing else that is infecting millions of people a day" and covid isn't doing that either. The highest daily case rates were in January of 2021 and they were in the 865k a day range, which is ridiculously high but isn't millions of cases a day.

But what we can see is that when people are tested by their doctors for Covid, RSV, and the Flu, more tests are coming back positive for the Flu. Covid causes more hospitalizations than the other two illnesses, but to be honest what the people in the video are describing - lightheadedness, dizziness, exhaustion - just sound like pretty standard symptoms of everything from covid to the cold to allergies. There are lots of things your mystery illness could be.

The video goes on to talk about the fact that people aren't testing, and why their tests may be coming back negative and I'd like to point out that the same things are all true of Flu or RSV tests. People might be getting tested too early or too late; getting a negative test for the flu isn't a good reason to assume you've got covid, getting a negative test for covid isn't a good reason to assume you've got the flu, and testing for viruses as a whole is imperfect. There are hundreds of viruses that could be the common cold; there are multiple viruses that can cause bronchitis; there are multiple viruses that can cause pneumonia, and you're not going to test for all of these things the moment you start feeling sick.

He then recommends testing for multiple days if you have symptoms and haven't had a positive test (fine) and talks about the location of the tests (less fine). Don't use your rapid tests to swab your throat or cheek unless it specifically says that they are designed to do so. Test based on the instructions in the packet.

He points out that the tests probably still pick up on the virus because they're not testing for the spike protein, they're testing for the RNA (good info!)

The video then discusses something that I think is really key to this paranoia about the "mystery illnesses" - he talks about how covid changes and weakens your immune system (a statement that should come with many caveats about severity and vulnerability and that we are still researching that) and then says that it makes you more susceptible to strep or mono and that "things that used to clear in a day or two now hit you really hard."

And that's where I think this anxiety is coming from.

Strep throat lasts anywhere from three days to a week. A cold takes about a week to clear. The flu lasts about a week and can knock you on your ass with exhaustion for weeks depending on how bad you get it. Did you get a cough with your cold? Expect that to take anywhere from three to eight weeks to clear up.

I think that people are thinking "i got a bad virus and felt really sick for a week and haven't gotten my energy back" but that just sounds like a bad cold. That sounds like a potent allergy attack. That doesn't even sound like a bad flu (I got a bad flu in 2009 and thought i was going to straight-up die I had a fever of 103+ for three days and felt like shit for three days on either side of that and took six weeks to feel more like myself again).

Getting sick sucks. It really, really sucks. But if you're getting sick and you're testing for covid and it's coming back negative after you tested a few times, it's almost certainly not covid.

The video then says "until someone provides evidence that it's not covid, it should be assumed to be covid because we have record levels of covid it's that simple" but that's not simple. We don't have record levels of covid and he hasn't proved it. We have record high levels of wastewater reports of covid, which correlates with covid cases but the spike in wastewater noted in december didn't see a spike with a corresponding magnitude of cases in terms of either hospitalizations or deaths, which is what we'd have seen if we had actual record numbers of covid.

He says that if you want to ignore this, you'll get sick with covid, and that about 30-40% of the US just got sick with covid in the last four months (which is a RIDICULOUSLY unevidenced claim).

He says that we need to create a new normal that takes covid into account, which means masking more often and testing more often and making choices about risk-avoidant behaviors.

Now, I don't disagree with that last statement, but he prefaces the statement with "it doesn't necessarily mean lockdown" and that's where I think the alarmism and paranoia is really visible here. We are so, so far away from "lockdown" type levels that it's absurd to discuss lockdown here.

What I'm seeing right now is people who are chronically ill, people who are immune compromised, and people who are experiencing long covid (which may not be distinct from other post-viral syndromes from severe cases of flu, etc, but which may be more severe or more notable because of the prevalence of covid) are talking about feeling abandoned and attacked and left behind by society because covid is still out there, and still at extremely high levels.

I am seeing people who feel abandoned and attacked because the lgbtq+ events they are attending don't require masking. I am seeing people who are claiming that it is eugenicist that their schools don't have a negative test policy anymore.

And this comes together into two really disconcerting trends that I've been observing online for a while.

The claim that the pandemic is still as bad as it's ever been and in fact may be worse but we can't know that because "they" (the CDC, the government, capitalist institutions that want you back in the office, the university industrial complex that wants your dorm room dollars) are covering up the numbers and

Significant grievance at the fact that people are acting like number one is not true and are putting you at risk either out of thoughtlessness (because they don't realize they're putting you at risk) or malice (because they don't care if the sick die).

And those things are a recipe for disaster.

I think I've pretty robustly addressed point one; I don't think that there's good evidence that there's a secretly awful surge of covid that nobody is talking about. I think that there are some people who are being alarmist about covid who are basing all of their concern on wastewater numbers that have not held up as the harbinger of a massive wave of infections.

So let's talk about point number two and JK Rowling.

Barnes and Noble is not attacking you when it puts up a Hogwarts Castle display in the lobby. Your favorite youtuber isn't trying to hurt you when they offhandedly mention Harry Potter.

If you let every mention of Harry Potter or every person who enjoys that media franchise wound you, you are going to spend a lot of your time wounded.

People are not liking Harry Potter at you.

Okay.

People are also not not wearing masks at you.

You may be part of a minority group that experiences the potential for outsized harm as a result of majority groups engaging in perfectly reasonable behaviors.

There are kind, well-meaning, sensible people who go out every day and do something that may cause you harm and it's not because they want to hurt you or they don't care about whether you live or die, it is because they are making their own risk assessments based on their own lives and making the very reasonable assumption that people who are more concerned about covid than they are will take precautions to keep themselves safe.

We are not at a place in the pandemic where it is sensible to expect people with no symptoms of illness to mask in public as a matter of course or to present evidence of a recent negative test when entering a public building in their day-to-day life.

I think now is a really good time to sit down and ask yourself how you expect things to be with covid as an endemic part of our viral ecosystem. I think now is a good time to ask yourself what risk realistically looks like for you and for people who are unlike you. I think now is a good time to consider what would feel "safe" for you and how you could accomplish feeling safe as you navigate the world.

I'm probably going to continue masking in most indoor spaces for years. Maybe forever. There are accommodations that SHOULD be afforded to people who have to take more precautions than others (remote learning, remote visits, remote work, etc.), and we should demand those kinds of accommodations.

But it is going to poison you from the inside out if you are perpetually angry that people who don't have the same medical limitations as you are happy that they get to go shopping with their faces uncovered.

So now I want to talk to you about my father in law.

My father in law had a bone marrow transplant in 2015. That's the most immune compromised you can get without having your organs swapped out.

The care sheet for him after the transplant was a little overwhelming. The list of foods he couldn't eat was intimidating and the limitations on where he could go was depressing. It cautioned against going to large events, it recommended outdoor gatherings where possible but only if he could avoid sunlight and was somewhere with no history of valley fever. It said that he should wear masks indoors any time he was someplace with poor ventilation and that he should avoid contact with anyone who had an illness of any kind, taking special note to avoid children and anyone recently vaccinated for measles.

It was, in short, pretty much what someone immune compromised would need to do to try to avoid a viral infection. Sensible. Reasonable. Wash your hands and social distance; wear masks in sensitive contexts and don't spend time in enclosed places with people who have a communicable illness.

This is what life was always going to be like for people who are severely immune compromised, and it was always going to be incumbent upon the person with the illness to figure out how to operate in a society that is not built with them in mind.

It is not the job of every parent I encounter to tell me whether their child has been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months. That isn't something that people need to do as part of their everyday life. However it IS my responsibility to check with the parents I'm hanging out with whether their children have been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months so I know if it's safe for my immune compromised spouse to be around them.

If you want an environment in which you feel safe from covid, at this point in the pandemic (when the virus is endemic and not spreading rapidly as far as we can see from case counts) it is your responsibility to take the steps necessary to make you feel safe. Some of those steps will involve advocating for safety improvements in public spaces (again, indoor ventilation needs to be better and I'm personally pretty extreme about vaccination requirements; these are things we should be discussing in our school board meetings and at our workplaces), some of those steps will involve advocating for worker protections, guaranteed sick time, and the right to healthcare. But some of the things you're going to need to do to feel safe are going to come down to you.

If you are concerned about communicable diseases you have to be realistic about the fact that our society doesn't go out of its way to prevent communicable diseases - norovirus among food service workers pre-pandemic is pretty clear evidence of that. You are going to have to be proactive about your safety rather than expecting the world to act like Covid is at 2021-2022 levels when it is measurably not.

[starlightomatic]

We're in another covid wave!!

I'll give eight main things to do that I think are really important at this point ~

1. If you have covid, please quarantine to the best of your ability until you test negative. You are still contagious as long you are testing positive, not just the first five days.

2. If you have covid, please try to get in touch with everyone you've had contact with the past 5 days and let them know. This lets them take appropriate precautions around the other folks in their lives.

3. Once you're testing negative again, be careful not to overexert yourself. Listen to your body; if, after exertion, you find symptoms returning (eg fever, lots of fatigue) that means you overdid it and should scale back. Be very cautious about returning to full activity level. This is to prevent post-exertional malaise as a symptom of long covid.

4. If you've been exposed to covid, assume you're a question mark and possibly-covid-positive for the first five days after exposure. Let folks that you're spending time with know about your exposure before getting together, so they can choose their risk level in terms of if they're comfortable spending time with you, if they want you to wear a mask, if they want to wear a mask, etc.

5. If you have symptoms or have been exposed to covid, wear a mask in public. This should be KN-95, N-95, or KF-94 level quality, not a cloth or surgical mask.

6. If you're having symptoms, or have been exposed to covid, and *especially* if both - remember that tests right at the beginning have a high rate of false negatives. When I had covid, I tested negative on both rapid and PCR tests my first two days of having symptoms. It wasn't until the third day, when I no longer even had a fever but just cold symptoms, that I finally tested positive. Please don't just test the day after exposure and assume you're fine.

7. If you haven't gotten this year's booster shot yet, go get it ASAP.

8. Even if you're not symptomatic and haven't been exposed, strongly consider wearing a mask again in public places like stores and transit, and at larger/more crowded gatherings.

Remember, people have a variety of risk tolerances, for a variety of reasons. Some folks are immunocompromised so their vaccine doesn't protect them as well as yours protects you. Some people have conditions that increase the chances of a severe case. Some people can't risk long covid because of existing disabilities and precarious life situations. Some people are not high-risk themselves but have regular contact with folks who are. These folks all deserve to be able to keep themselves safe and make choices about the level of covid risk in their lives.

Posted 12/16/23

[boowritess]

very mild 18+ simon riley x reader

lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.

atleast to you.

when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.

he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.

he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.

he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.

he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.

it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.

even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.

but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.

it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.

he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.

"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.

around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.

Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.

"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.

"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.

Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.

he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.

'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'

image attached

Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.

Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.

he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.

just you and your simon.

a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo

[fallout-lou-begas]

i hate all FNV mods that restore/add an option to convince Mr. House to broker a truce between himself and the Brotherhood of Steel because it's not just a symptom of a completionist, goopy goblin gamer brain that doesn't want to miss out on any of the CONTENT, but also because Mr. House's inflexibility on his desire to see the Brotherhood of Steel exterminated is such a significant character moment. Because it's a moment where this autocrat who views himself as purely rational, purely objective, and purely motivated by an altruistic desire to protect (what he thinks are) the best interests of humanity is forced to let his mask slip in front of the lackey on which he completely depends. He has zero reasonable rationale to want the Brotherhood destroyed and he knows it, he just hates them, and he hates them just because he thinks that they're just fucking lame. He, personally, finds the cultish medieval technoknight schtick obnoxious enough to justify total obliteration, and the fact that he will not back down on this is supposed to be revealing! It makes sense, too, if you understand how aesthetically driven his vision for the future of Vegas and humanity is and how badly a bunch of LARPers in power armor wandering around outside clashes with that aesthetic (he is, literally, a RETVRN guy, except he wants to "retvrn" to everybody looking like they're going to see the Rat Pack perform in concert). Mr. House's stubbornness on this issue is intentionally frustrating, especially if you're someone who up to this point may have found him otherwise agreeable! The Brotherhood of Steel is also something of a mirror, or a competitor even, to Mr. House's vision of himself as the sole worthy heir to the splendor of pre-war technology and control thereof, but that's actually far less important than the fact that he just hates their pussy