Sera/Elie. Disabled faerie princeling. Enby sapphic adventurer with a penchant for wild imaginings. They/them. 18+/NSFW. I tag on request. Free Palestine. Icon by @iliothermia
Master doc that contains different resources and support for many countries including Palestine, Congo, Haiti, Hawai’i, etc ((op is underneath the link))
[ID: Tweet by Nanu's eyebrows 🇹🇹❤️🔱… @ Seaweedlagoon which reads: "I'd appreciate if you guys would spread around my master document that not only contains support for Palestine but other countries as well, I'm updating it with resources for Puerto Rico, Lebanon and Trinidad and Tobago tomorrow!" With a link to the above doc/End ID]
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Can I interest you in a brief biography of this absolute icon?
I know. I know. It's the hat, isn't it? You need to know more. You simply must. And if that doesn't do it, then perhaps this rather striking profile will:
Elizabeth "Amy" Dillwyn was born in Swansea in 1845, the eldest daughter of a prominent family. She was related to the photographer Mary Dillwyn, the abolitionist William Dillwyn, and the astronomer Thereza Dillwyn, and her father was the Liberal MP for Swansea. Upon his death, she inherited her father's spelter works in 1890, as well as his debts of £100,000 (£8mil today.) She lived in relative frugality while she worked to save the business, renting lodging rooms and refusing to pay herself a salary in favour of keeping 300 people employed, until the debts were recouped 7 years later and she was able to buy her own home.
Dillwyn was also an author, and her 6 novels often touched upon class issues. She was a supporter of the Rebecca Riots, in which local Welshmen dressed as women to destroy tollbooths in protest against unfair taxation, and also supported the strike action of local seamstresses. Her novels also often included lesbian themes, most prominent in Jill, which tells the story of a gentlewoman who disguises herself as a maid and moves to London, falling in love with her mistress. Dillwyn herself wrote about her sexuality in her diaries, writing about her love for her friend, Olive Talbot:
My own belief is that I’m half a man & the male half of my nature fell in love with her years ago & can’t fall out of it again. I care for her romantically, passionately, foolishly, & try as I may, I cannot get over it.
Dillwyn referred to Talbot in her diaries as her 'wife', and never married. She was considered something of a beloved social eccentric, often wearing men's attire, smoking cigars, and turning up to her father's funeral in a purple skirt with a yellow flower in her belt as a protest against Victorian mourning conventions. She was a staunch suffragist and supporter of social reform. She died in Swansea at 90 years old, and her house now bears a blue plaque to commemorate her.
Currently, there's an ongoing research project about her and her diaries led by Professor Kirsti Bohata of Swansea University, who also wrote her entry in the Dictionary of Welsh Biography. Some of her novels are available from Honno Press, which champions Welsh women's writing. An edited selection of her diaries has just been published by the South Wales Record Society, and is being prepared for open access. Images sourced from David Painting, the biographer of the Dillwyn family.
i really appreciate seeing all the posts on my dash recently to the effect of "shutting down conversations about race/gender/minorities in fandom spaces because 'fandom is meant to be fun' is just an excuse to not think critically about the bigoted behaviors you are exhibiting". i hope that this energy carries over into the gaming sphere next pleaaseee
pokemon is a series about building Your own team and going on Your own adventure with creatures that You collect and befriend, and is designed from the ground up to be personal and immersive. i have never been able to look like myself in a pokemon game. if i bought pokemon z a today and booted it up and tried to customize myself, i would not be able to look like myself. just fuck me i guess.
I worry a little bit that people who refuse to learn about ai as a part of their anti ai position are going to be extremely unprepared to understand what’s actually scary about it and already have their digital literacy at risk tbh
not that I am some genius in this regard but if you follow ai developments even slightly you might change the things you are most worried about. do people know the extent to which ai is already eating itself and how meaningless this is making swaths of the internet. do people know that there are plenty of random mid-sized companies today buying their employees’ likenesses to create digital clones and using these to make hundreds of videos. I am so much more worried about labor and surveillance and abuse than people becoming lazy about writing emails. and idk man I sort of like and respect people who are willfully ignorant about it as a way of minimizing its force in their lives and I am in some ways jealous but also when I see posts that basically still boil down to “chatgpt will never fool me” I am like 😭😭😭 for one thing not the only thing to be concerned about, for another thing I am really sorry but I don’t think you’re right
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so many people ive known have pushed themselves to burnout trying to deny their disabled reality, skipping accommodations, skipping rests etc. and the world convinces them that the solution to their burnout is to push even harder. it’s a huge tragedy. i know social pressures make it tough but i want more disabled people to make things easier for themselves where possible, to opt out of things that harm them when possible, to quit while they’re ahead. be that person today! protect yourself where you can! take micro breaks while doing your hobby. get that shower chair. sit to brush your teeth. lie down in the middle of the day, even if only for 5 mins. these things add up and it’s so worth it.
love seeing all the buckaroos at airports living their lives trotting around proving love in their own way what a beautiful thing to see all of these human stories swirling together
It’s recently been found that even hive insects rest. Bees will play with colorful toys. Ants sleep for about 1 minute but they do it so frequently it amounts to a few hours per day. Even trees take breaks.
The only things that work without rest are machines; literally everything that lives requires rest.
EVERYTHING THAT LIVES REQUIRES REST. STOP JUDGING YOURSELF FOR NOT BEING A ROBOT.
robots require very frequent breaks! welding machines generally have it programmed in that they can’t run so long they melt themselves. ive overseen two different manufacturing robots now and each of them were fragile, finicky idiots that require constant maintenance and repair. they pause in between moves, in between jobs. you’re always keeping an eye on programming errors, on coolant levels, on heat. you’re always pulling bits of scrap out of joints, sweeping up debris, washing off nozzles and untangling hoses. and even then it snaps a chain and takes a whole morning’s vacation.
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So it's national Recreational Explosives, Hand Loss and Wildfire day, and unlike 2023, there is nary a drop of rain in sight.
Despite being slapped upside the head by God, my put technically inclined neighbor has acquired TWO pallets of fireworks this year.
The state is of no help: my city police department has made it pretty clear they don't intend to respond to any fireworks calls this weekend. I've sent the pictures I took to the county tipline and received and automated email reply saying that it will take several weeks to process my case. Perhaps he will get jail time later, but this does not actually you know. Stop him from setting the neighborhood ablaze. Going up to his door the week prior and very politely asking him to move- not cancel, just relocate - his celebrations was met with calling me a "nosy bitch" and "I'll set one off in your ass!".
Sometimes God needs us to make our own miracles.
My miracle comes with several layers, and plenty of opportunities to back down without losing face. We'll see how many are needed.
The first wave has already been deployed: a psyop directed at the Visiting Mother In Law of the miscreant.
I got up at 8:30 AM this morning to make sure I'd be in the front yard of my house, casually doing yardwork with Herschel. His participation was essential.
For those of you who are new here, Herschel is the world's most charming Cardigan Welsh Crime Tube, who thinks everyone in the world is his best friend and that people come to the house to see him specifically. So at 9:04 AM when the visiting mother-in-law appeared around the corner on her daily power-walk around the block, Herschel employed his natural Corgi instinct to make friends with everyone and cheerfully tossed himself on the sidewalk in front of her, belly up for expected tummy rubs.
"OH AREN'T YOU DARLING!!" My target coos, kneeling down to pat him while he makes him like snuffling noises of glee. She is at least 70. I think her bright pink leg warmers and terrycloth headband might be original from her jazzercise days.
"I'm so sorry! Herschel you're going to trip people doing that!" I apologize, going up to greet the woman. "I'm [REDACTED], I don't think we've met..?"
"No, I'm just visiting my daughter and her family- my name is Barbara. And who is this?" She asks Herschel, whose whole back end is waggling with glee.
"This is my service dog Herschel." I explain while he rolls around on the pavement. "I just wanted him to get some time outside before the pyrotechnics start."
"Oh. Yes." Barbra grumbles and I know I've got her. "My son-in-law is planning something extravagant." She says with such disdain it practically comes out of her nose. This is a woman who loves her daughter and dearly wishes she married someone, anyone else.
"Yeah, he got rained out and sick the last two years, so I think he's compensating." I agree.
"Oh he's definitely overcompensating!" Barbra spits, then shakes her whole body like a dog. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain. You said he's a service dog?"
I go for it.
"Yeah! I have... Neurological problems." I say and that is technically true. "I've um. Lost a lot of things, like a sense of time, or appetite, and his job is to remind me to eat or take my meds or alerts that I'm having an episode. My personal dog-tor!" I say, patting his adorable little head, and he leans on me, equally adoring.
"Oh, is that why-?" Barbra starts to ask, gesturing at the top of her head, but stops herself.
I hadn't planned this, but yesterday I'd shaved my head to deal with the heat and now only have a quarter inch of hair, which doesn't really hide the scars from when I got run over by a minivan. They're bright red with the heat and exertion of yard work.
I decide I'm okay with lying to a stranger to prevent my house from being set ablaze.
I sort of... Crumple to the ground and drop the rake I was holding, and Herschel immediately climbs into my lap to comfort me as I start to cry.
"Oh my God." Says Barbra.
"I'm sorry!" I gasp, tears streaming down my face. I've been stressed and this is honestly very cathartic. "I'm sorry to dump on you, I'm just so scared-!"
"Oh my God. It's bad." Barbra realizes.
"D- do you know what-" a pause as Herschel tries to manually clear my nostrils like a good service dog. "-oh, Herschel... It's - do you know what an astrocytoma* is?"
*An astrocytoma is a type of brain tumor.
Barbra turns white and sits down next to me. "I'm so sorry... I- one of my friends from church had one, it was agony but she's alright now!" She tries to reassure me.
"It hurts! Everything hurts all the time!" I sob. "And- and I'm scared, so he's scared and I feel bad for hi which just makes it worse and then there's the-" I gesture at the sky. "I have surgery in a month to remove as much of it as they can and do biopsies to see if I need radiation too but..."
"-but all that noise must be Hell on you and your doggy." Barbra nods.
"It'd be fine if he went down to the lake of something but, that house's driveway is like, a hundred feet from my bedroom, I can't sleep and it TERRIFIES Herschel..." I whimper pathetically.
"Well. I may be able to do something about that." Barbra decides.
"Oh no, I don't want to intrude!" I mock-protest.
"No, we're the ones intruding dear. I'll have words with him." She growls. I get the impression she's been waiting for an excuse To Have Words With Him.
"Th-thank you. Um. It's getting hot and I'm a mess, we should probably go inside..." I mutter and Barbra very kindly helps me and Herschel to the front door and tells me she'll be by later with watermelon as we wave goodbye.
From the porch, I watch her furiously power-walk back to her daughter's house, wrench open the front door, and issue a battle cry of "HEN-RY!!!" before it slams behind her.
Now I realize that this may not have been the most honest or ethical thing to do, but I figured it's more polite and ethical than the next step, which is chemical warfare, courtesy of Bath & Body Works :)
Well, they Psyop seems to have worked! That cul-de-sac, and indeed my entire block is perfectly quiet tonight!
Unfortunately I cannot say the same of the surrounding neighborhood, so it has been necessary to deploy The Stench.
The Stench is a mixture of Odoriferous chemicals meant to be discreetly poured over a surface (preferably something hot, like a sidewalk or fence in direct sunlight) to render an area temporarily uninhabitable, Similar to spraying coyote pee on your garden to discourage the rabbits. I can't give you a full recipe because I forgot to take notes, but elements include:
Spoiled beef broth, which is both rancid and unexpectedly sour (boiled to kill bacteria)
Expired milk, the most retch-inducing ingredient for me.
Several bottles of Liquid Ass
Ghost Pepper Hot Sauce
Concentrated Dog Urine
and FOUR bottles of Bath & Body Work's Cucumber Melon, which smells light and fruity when used as a light body spray, but in concentration smells like an entire fruit cart left to rot, possibly along with the carcass of the fruitseller.
The resulting solution smells like raw sewage, a fraternity dorm fridge when the power's been out for a week, and a roadkilled skunk. It's impressively vile. Herschel wanted to roll in it so bad.
I've spent the last few hours strolling the surrounding neighborhoods until I found the source of the mortars and flying explosives that are the real hazards, ingratiating myself into the parties, and discreetly dousing the lawns and fences nearby until someone goes "OH GOD!" and gags, and the party breaks up shortly thereafter. I returned home because I ran out of The Stench, despite hiding five 2L soda bottles of it in a backpack.
I will call it a success though, because while I can hear fireworks, they're all at least a mile away from me. In total:
Fire Hazard Parties derailed: 13
Screaming: 10
Crying: 13
Vomiting: 4
Fight blaming each other for causing The Stench: 5
Called the city to complain about The Stench, on the assumption it was a sewage issue, and then waited right next to their pile of illegal fireworks, for the fire department to show up: 2.
Guy who claimed to be enjoying the smell: 1
Party was partially derailed by The Stench, and partly by the fact they actually did start a fire: 1 (every human was alright, the pyro's roof, not as much)
Stray dogs caught and returned home: 2
So next year: MORE STENCH.
Until then, I have a corgi zooted on trazadone on my feet, and we bid you goodnight.
(If you would like to support a disabled storyteller and/or fund more stench research, you can donate to my Ko-fi or pre-order my Family Lore book on Patreon)
People have this image of non binary people in their mind as quirky cis or binary trans people who have "spicy pronouns" instead of a legitimate categorisation of gender, and it pisses me off.
They don't even think medical transition for non binary people even exist. And that pisses me off even more.
#prev: not replying to you just adding onto what you said.#the real materialist argument is that sex is not binary because it just isn't. at best it is bimodal#but as someone who usually subscribes to materialist philosophy i don't even believe that#people are nonbinary because they just are .#and i don't feel the need to interrogate it further
needed to peer review these tags because what you said is so based and real. "people are nonbinary because they just are & i don't feel the need to interrogate it further" is EXACTLY how i feel.
we exist. it can be clearly observed. "why are people nonbinary" is an interesting question to ask only as much as "can two people ever truly see the same color."
My beloved friend Ola had a beautiful daughter, Yusra, on July 29th last year. In spite of the violence, illness, and indignity that pervaded the first year of Yusra's life, Ola would like to give her daughter a happy birthday. The family has no money for new clothes, a small cake, or any toys. I am hoping that with your help, Yusra can have a happy little celebration on July 29th this year. Perhaps Yusra's first birthday pictures could appear normal, and she could look back at them happily when she's older. Please, if you can, help bring just a tiny bit of joy to Ola's family.
My name is Ori, and I am hosting this campaign on behalf of Ola, her husband Karam, and their five-month-old. A message from Ola:
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Pokémon Go players unknowingly created billions of environmental scans now used to train military drone navigation systems for GPS-denied wa
Visual positioning systems now guide autonomous weapons where satellites can't reach.
Niantic's spin-off company, Niantic Spatial, transformed those gaming clips into a Visual Positioning System (VPS). Think GPS, but using camera vision instead of satellites. The system matches live video feeds against pre-built 3D maps to determine precise location—critical when enemies jam satellite signals.
In December 2025, Niantic Spatial partnered with defense contractor Vantor to integrate this ground-level navigation with aerial drone systems. The goal: unified air-to-ground positioning for military operations in "GPS-denied environments." Translation—your Squirtle hunt helped map terrain for autonomous weapons.
