I was recently surprised to learn that the "smashing wedding cake on somebody's face" thing is apparently a prank & a shitty thing to do. I literally thought it was the tradition. did not realise you were meant to feed it to each other
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@gothhabiba
I was recently surprised to learn that the "smashing wedding cake on somebody's face" thing is apparently a prank & a shitty thing to do. I literally thought it was the tradition. did not realise you were meant to feed it to each other

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Residential buildings in Gaza are being bombed by the Israeli occupation army multiple times every day. The violence is only increasing as many in the West believe the lie about a ceasefire and turn their eyes away. Mohammed Abu Alwan is raising three young children in Gaza. The money the family of five needs for food, water, and medicine is about $200 USD per day; but Israel's destruction of infrastructure in Gaza means that Mohammed is entirely reliant on donations for the basic necessities of life.
You can help this family stay alive through genocide by donating via:
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Or via:
venmo (@gothhabiba) paypal (paypal.me/Najia) Cashapp ($NajiaK)
all with note "🍓" or "strawberry"
$0 / $200 (Aug 3)
🍓 $130 / $200 (Aug 14) 🍓
being raised Catholic, in a Catholic school, in a Catholic-majority country, I've never encountered anyone who actually claims the wafer is actually the body of christ. and when the subject has come up, people do defend the idea that it's more metaphorical than anything. ik that's not the case in scripture + institutionally. but still
this is so surprising to me as somebody who knows the doctrine but not the culture
hi! can i send u a screenshot of the poetry of the husband (well they were in the process of divorce cuz he wanted kids and she didn’t but then she got pregnant by him so they’re back together) of this anime content creator on tiktok? i dont have ur expertise and i dont wanna be mean, i just feel like theres something off about this poem he made of her? and i cant pinpoint why exactly. not that it’s creepy or anything it’s just not good (to me) but i cant articulate why its not. totally understand if u rather not tho lol
yes that's fine! I can't guarantee I'll have anything to say about it though
I heard somebody confidently explaining that of course Christians don't believe that communion wafers "are literally the body of Jesus," it's "more of a symbolic tradition." I'm going to be real with you, I do not think that's accurate

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🚨 Ministry of Interior: The assassination of the Gaza Governorate Police Chief, Colonel Jamal Mahmoud Abu Kamil (43 years old), following an Israeli airstrike that targeted his vehicle on Al-Rashid Street, southwest of Gaza City, a short while ago. #Gaza
August 13, 2026 at 02:40PM UTC
i am like the breadloser of the family
the intro notes on Fenris fics will be like "WARNING this fic discusses rape, torture, abuse, gaslighting, nonconsensual medical experimentation" cheers but the fic involves Fenris so I had kind of assumed
Najia do you have any Fenris fic recs :( It feels like NO ONE ELSE has played the game or they at least played it with only lust in their hearts because NO ONE writes him well!!!
I should warn you that these are all FenHawke fics because I'm one of those plebeians who doesn't read gen. but here are some of my favourite fics by Fenris understanders:
"Treading Water," fruitygoblin
For the first time, he did want to explain. Hawke deserved that much: deserved to know what had happened, why he was like this, why he was unable to give Hawke what he wanted, why it couldn’t be easy. Why nothing was ever easy, not for him. The trouble was, he couldn’t. It wasn’t just a single event that could be related plainly, beginning to end, all the gaps filled in and all the loose ends neatly tied. It was a whole life. A whole world. Where to begin? He could talk for ever and still not get rid of all of it.
"A String of Glass Beads," badwolfmonica
How does he explain that the chains are broken but his wrists and ankles are still heavy with the weight of them? How can he make her understand that he aches to be unrestrained but he simply does not know how?
"Overwrite," besselfcn (rated E, rape, torture, medical abuse)
“Good morning, Master,” he would respond, and Danarius would smile, and it felt almost like a prize to be won.
"Rosae," Lady Luthien
It felt - natural, sitting next to her in the Hanged Man, surrounded by people that he cared for, or, in the case of Anders, at least tolerated. It felt so natural that he could almost pretend he had always had this life, and that Minrathous had been a strange and awful dream. Not entirely - the lyrium lines on his hands where he sorted the cards were always a harsh reminder - but closer than he had ever been. It was almost uncomfortable, like he was losing something that had defined him for so long.
"Dinner in Thedas," KaerWrites
Weeks passed in a strange mixture of bliss and grief, belonging and loss, home and searching. Vengeance, it seemed, was no simple matter of the extinguishing of one unworthy life, but rather the living that must follow, and the terrible, unprecedented void that must then be filled.
"An Impossible Woman," queenofquails
He knew - well enough, anyway - how the lyrium would have reacted to her magic. He had memories—unpleasant, certainly, but they were points of reference that might allow him to endure the havoc his markings would wreak. Perhaps more importantly, it would have offered him the refuge of blame. He could blame her magic, blame Danarius, blame his branded flesh for whatever might have happened.
if you're not perfect at something the first time you try it it's really important that you give up immediately

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Before committing an act of violence, think: "how would this reflect on the public opinion of my favorite band"
im sorta a boyfriend centrist
i think there is a place for boyfriends in civilised society provided they know their place and go thru proper channels
I love DA2. The shitty graphics. The horrible gameplay. The story so unavoidably devastating and beautiful and horrible. Everyone hates each other. Everyone loves each other. You’re constantly filling the streets with bodies and there are no ramifications for this. There are ramifications for everything you say and do. Everyone’s bisexual. There’s a dragon in the mine. You lose everyone and everything you love and care about and it’s inevitable. Isabela gets an STI at one point. Merrill is a blood mage. You go from rags to riches to going on the run. You have a dog. You set your friend up on a date with the guy she likes. You hunt down a serial killer who takes the last member of your family away. Your doctor friend is possessed and loves cats and commits domestic terrorism. You have no control. You control everything.
gonna be honest i don’t know how many more ‘enter the 6 digit code we sent to your phone’s i got left in me
my advice with poetry is almost always just “say less” lol
“I carry my father’s rage like shackles on my feet”
we can pretty much guess from context that the shackles are worn by the speaker -> “I carry my father’s rage like shackles”
you don’t really “carry” a shackle, though, do you? -> “my father’s rage is like a shackle”
do we really need the “like,” either? -> “my father’s rage is a shackle”
and honestly I’d nix the “is” as well. maybe go for some parallel structure. “[first line] / my father’s rage a shackle / the [adjective] [noun] a [noun]”

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my advice with poetry is almost always just “say less” lol
This month people have been tearing Flock cameras off their poles.
This month people have been tearing Flock cameras off their poles. Perched above public streets, they are birdlike things, weatherproof, and they photograph every passing car and file it in a searchable national database. Somebody cut two of them in half at Washington Avenue and Westcott in Houston, spray-painted the wreckage, and left an American flag on one of them. Police were notified on the morning of the Fourth of July. Somebody severed a camera in Rutherfordton, North Carolina. The police department posted the photograph itself and collected more than twenty thousand comments. “Not all heroes wear capes.” “Give them a medal.” Here is what the cameras do when nobody cuts them down. Cops use them to hunt immigrants and to follow ICE targets across state lines and to find women who ended pregnancies in states where that is a crime and to watch exes and to watch women they want, without a warrant and without a judge. A cop types a reason in a box and the box does not check. A man in Burleson, Texas, told deputies his girlfriend had taken abortion pills. He showed them the photographs, the FedEx envelope, the instructions. Deputies opened a death investigation into a non-viable fetus, and the district attorney told them the state could not charge her, and they searched anyway: 83,345 cameras across 6,809 networks, a month of everywhere she had been. The reason they typed was had an abortion, search for female. The search reached Illinois and Washington, where what she did was legal. They found her in Dallas. She came into the sheriff’s office a week later, and they thought she had come to explain the fetus, and she had come to report that the man who called them had put a gun to her head. A sheriff in Jerome County, Idaho ran his wife’s plate more than seven hundred times in three months. He typed the same reason every time. Test. The attorney general found nothing to charge him with. He retired in April. The Institute for Justice counts at least twenty-two officers who used the system to track people they were romantically interested in, and calls that almost certainly an undercount. And the cameras keep falling.
Become ungovernable.