a fine line between silliness and supreme beauty

There’s a lot of hate on widowers and I saw a woman say “You cannot compete with a dead woman.” which is perhaps a reasonable statement to say if he’s constantly comparing you to his dead partner but that wasn’t what the post was about. And I realized “Oh my God, these people genuinely feel like they’re constantly in competition with their spouse’s exes and the ex being dead makes them feel insecure that they cannot best her.”

1) I am widowed. my Beloved Wife of Blessed Memory(tm) died in 2019

2) I got together with my current partner about 18 months later

3) when I am committing acts of Foolishness my current partner loves to gesture at the sky to my dead wife, like "do you see this shit, my liege" and regularly says to me things like "[wife's name] was right about this" when my Foolishness inevitably comes back to bite me in the ass

4) this happens. all the time

more importantly:

5) my current partner is on tumblr

6) they love to incessantly send me posts

WHICH MEANS:

7) they just sent me this post with this commentary:

I never imagined I would be writing these words while my mother is in the ICU. These are the hardest days of my life. Every minute feels heavy with fear, and every phone call from the hospital makes my heart stop for a moment

My mother urgently needs to undergo her heart procedure as soon as possible. The doctors have made it clear that her condition is serious, and our family is terrified as we wait and pray beside her 💔

We are now only $191 away. If just 8 kind people donate $25 each, we can almost reach our goal today. Such a small amount may seem a small amount to some, but for us, it feels like the final door standing between my mother and the treatment she desperately needs.💔😔

I keep refreshing the fundraiser every few minutes, hoping to see a donation, hoping to see proof that someone out there still cares. I am exhausted. I am scared. I am watching my mother suffer while knowing that the treatment she needs is so close, yet still out of reach 😔

Please don't scroll away thinking someone else will help. If everyone waits for another person to act, nothing will change. Be one of those 8 people.

I am not asking for luxury, comfort, or anything extra. I am only asking for the chance to help my mother receive the urgent treatment her doctors have recommended.I am begging you from the bottom of my heart. Please help us raise the last $191. Even the smallest donation could bring my mother one step closer to the urgent operation she needs . We are holding on to hope with everything we have left. 💔🙏

Current process: USD 18,115 / $18,306

Vatted by: @90-ghost

Vatted by: @sar-soor

(written for Frev Summer 2026)

It had been very hot all day. In the afternoon the sun beat down mercilessly on the arrested deputies and their guards. When they were turned away at the next prison and had to move on, he thought he was going to faint.

Now, it was night and the clouds were gathering over Paris. A storm was coming soon—it always clears the air. He stared out the window of the Town Hall, motionless, and the silence before the storm terrified him. He had been told that people had risen, but now, late at night, there was no one there. The few who had gathered to support them quietly dispersed again.

Suddenly, lightning lit up the sky and revealed their entire tragedy. He shouldn't have let the guards convince him, he shouldn't have left the prison. The people who loved him yesterday had abandoned them. Maybe that was a good thing. At least, maybe no more people would die with them.

Thunder rumbled somewhere nearby and a downpour began as if on command.

"There's no one there anymore," he said in a completely calm voice.

"No one," the other man replied stoically. He stood next to Robespierre, and their hands involuntarily met. Their fingers intertwined and pressed tightly. Even though they didn't talk about it, they needed each other now.

“Our last night, right?” he said quietly, so as not to be heard by the men at the table, who were still hoping. They were writing call-to-arms to the sections as if it still mattered.

“I like these summer storms, don’t you?” Saint-Just replied with another question. There was no need to say what was clear to both of them.

Robespierre didn’t answer either.

"I'd like to take you to the country with me sometime. The sky is much clearer there than in the city."

"Perhaps in the next life...," Robespierre smiled sadly.

“Perhaps so,” Saint-Just smiled too. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, while lightning streaked across the sky outside.

"Maximilien, it's done. Will you sign it?" Augustin turned to him loudly.

I SURE HOPE

NOTHING BAD IS GOING TO HAPPEN

Spoilers:

19-year-old Khalil Al Habil's liver and kidneys are failing. Shrapnel damage from the bombardment that killed his baby brother Omar has gone mostly untreated due to a lack of funds and resources. The ill effects of this damage have progressed to the point that the organs are losing their ability to function. Khalil urgently needs 3 rounds of treatment to combat the effects of his deteriorating liver and kidneys.

We've paid off the first round of treatments but Khalil has two treatments that he still needs. The second costs about $1,250 usd, but we haven’t made much progress in more than a month and his condition is getting progressively worse. We need to meet this second goal ASAP!!!

Current: $10,052 out of $10,407 usd (12 May)

Need to raise: $355 usd

The lethargy and fatigue caused by his deteriorating organ function only make reaching out more difficult. He is in very, very bad shape, and I’m extremely worried about him.

He has gone so long between sessions that he requires additional medications to sustain him between treatments. With a price of $1500 for the treatment for his failing organs, and $500 for supplementary medications, this is where we are for round 3:

Current: $11,354 out of $12,407 usd (28 June)

Pauline Léon took part in the demonstration. On her way home from there, she used her fists to defend a friend against the family of a national guard. This is the first conserved trace of any militant activities from her side. (Pauline Léon, une républicaine révolutionnaire (2006) by Claude Guillon).

Manon Roland wrote in her memoirs that she on the day in question had been at the jacobins ”where I had witnessed the agitations caused by the sad events on Champ-de-Mars.” Manon remembers walking home eleven o’clock in the evening and bumping into François and Louise Robert. Louise (who it might be worth mentioning would have been seven months pregnant at this point) explains that ”my husband was writing the petition on the altar of the homeland, I was at his side. We escaped the slaughter without daring to retire neither to our house nor that of one of friends.” She therefore asks if they can take shelter at Manon’s place. Manon happily agrees, and brings them over to hôtel Britannique, rue Guénégaud. The next morning, the Roberts start talking through the window with an acquaintance by the name of Vachard, whom they invite up. Vachard speaks loudly about yesterday’s events, boasting about having run his sabre through a National Guardsman. Manon finds this conduct to be careless, and asks the Roberts to tell their friend to leave, which they do. The Roberts themselves leave around noon.

I love that changeling loser ☝️