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link: https://bsky.app/profile/brainvsbook.bsky.social/post/3llc72lyhu22j

google translate defaulting to chinese at first

okay but for those of us with interests in both the murderbot and the daomu biji fandoms this is kinda hilarious

(english-side-only really, i get that the kanji and hanzi are completely different)

our good (air)ship murderbot! thanks google

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A caiman in the Amazon wearing a crown of butterflies that feed off the young crocs salty tears. (2016) Photog. Mark Cowan [source]

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the untamed is so fucked up like what if you were the brother of all time but in a cursed way. first your brother-in-law dies because your big sister loves you so much. then your big sister dies because she loves you so much. then your new big sister and little brother die because they love you so much. the only reason your og little brother doesn't die? because you died first. because you love him so much.

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we're Hugo nominated?! a wild and delightfully surprising thing to happen to a highly specific podcast in its first year of life, thank you so much to anyone who put our names in!

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it should be illegal for the weekends to last literally two seconds like what the fuck

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characters going “we were lovers once”: eh, it’s okay i guess. it’s nice enough

characters going “we were friends once”: absolutely devastating. one hit knockout i’m gone

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hold your own god damn umbrella

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“Pratchett went back to older throwaway jokes (like dwarves being apparently unisex) and used them as metaphors to discuss social change, racial assimilation, and other complex issues, while reexamining the species he’d thrown in at the margins of his world simply because they existed at the margins of every other fantasy universe. If goblins and orcs and trolls could think, then why were they always just there to be slaughtered by the heroes? And if the heroes slaughtered sentient beings en masse, how heroic exactly were they? It was a long overdue start on redressing issues long swept under the rug by a parade of Tolkien successors who never thought of anyone green and slimy as anything but a notch on the protagonist’s sword, and much of the urgency in Pratchett’s last few books seemed to be related to them. “There’s only one true evil in the world,” he said through his characters. “And that’s treating people like they were things.” And in the last of his “grown-up” Discworld books, that idea is shouted with the ferocity of those who have only a few words left and want to make them count. Goblins are people. Golems are people. Dwarves are people, and they do not become any less people because they decide to go by the gender they know themselves to be instead of the one society forces on them. Even trains might be people, and you’ll never know one way or the other unless you ask them, because treating someone like they’re a person and not a thing should be your default. And the only people who cling to tradition at the expense of real people are sad, angry dwellers in the darkness who don’t even understand how pathetic they are, clutching and grasping at the things they remember without ever understanding that the world was never that simple to begin with. The future is bright, it is shining, and it belongs to everyone.”

— John Seavey, The Evolution of the Disc (via pornosophical)

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Depressed middle aged men being gay together just fixes something in me.

I can't explain it.

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How to tell if you're in a historical Chinese drama:

(Inspired by this classic!)

Someone offends you unforgivably by calling you by your actual name.

You are preparing for a bloody battle in the rain. Your boots are made of exquisitely embroidered silk duchesse.

Everyone you know is god-tier beautiful. You ignore this.

Significant tea is being poured.

Your soulmate tells you in plain words that they love you. You comically misunderstand what they said, and will keep doing so, because the plot is not over yet.

The only thing more elaborate than the villain's cunning plan is the engineering of your man-bun.

Duels are scored like gymnastics routines. To beat your opponent, try a triple-twisting double tucked salto.

You have been married for thirty years. You have never seen your spouse's wrist.

Sometimes peasants and servants are killed horribly in front of you. It's a normal part of life. The other peasants will presumably take care of the practicalities, such as burial and being upset.

Any injury, including a broken nail, makes you vomit blood.

The year is 400 AD. French tips have been invented.

You're on a moon bridge and you are yearning.

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it’s always been her

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Incense

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it's the lack of casual closeness in long distance friendships that kills me. we can't take a walk together, down the road or in a park. can't window shop or run errands. we can't see each other's reactions as we make fun little small talk. that's all i want

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“No one can walk a single-plank bridge their entire lives and never fall”

I think about this quote daily

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unwell about the twin prides of Yunmeng in the big 25

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