#and even if they were

[andiv3r]

So I've been avoiding looking up TMA/TME because I was worried whatever the definitions were would piss me off, and I was right. What the fuck. Transmisogyny affected and transmisogyny exempt? Are you fucking serious? Seriously get the fuck outta here with that shit.

[swordsoprano]

why do they call it suicidal ideation when they could call it diediation

[pleasegivejinlingabreak]

srsly where do chengxian antis get the idea that theyre brothers this is so??? like its never said... jyl did see wwx as a brother but does that make them actual siblings? no. and jc didnt even say anything like that, they were like best friends who lived together

[winged-mammal]

I’d heard that all three endings made it clear that aloy was in fact a gay disaster over seyka regardless of your choice, but I hadn’t seen them yet. so naturally when I finished burning shores on ultra hard tonight (go me!), I recorded all three of them.

“I’m not ready for this” (brain) starts at 1:55, “this is too much for me” (fist) starts at 4:12, and “yes, I do” (heart) starts at 6:15

my gay thoughts:

I was not prepared for the “I’m not ready for this” option to be even gayer than the heart/kiss option, but she managed it!!! even the “this is too much for me” scene was, in fact, very gay. I was Not misled.

very juicy character stuff too

not gay but: “for two years my life has been...” ty aloy for clarifying the timeline for me

just prior to the hug in the "I’m not ready for this” scene, when seyka says “I’ll miss you, aloy,” they’re standing pretty close and seyka seems to be thinking about getting that bittersweet smooch anyway:

but after the “I’ll miss you, aloy” prior to the hug in the “this is too much for me” scene, they’re further apart and seyka is *not* contemplating going for it:

but the hug itself is the same in both of those scenes:

and of course the hug at the end of the heart option is much closer (and not seen from aloy’s side)

in conclusion, I have feelings

[ipso-again]

It's funny how we condem Mike for pouring syrup onto his eggs, yet we throw eggs in cakes without batting an eye.

Egg by nature appears to be neutral before you do something with it. It can be used for so many things and consumed in so many contexts.

Now, considering the fact that Mike was raised in a household that presumingly didn't use spices (we've seen their chicken. It's not great), is it really that odd that he looked at something that tasted like nothing and poured something that tasted of something onto it? Turning the neutral vessel into a sweet breakfast dish.

I do judge him, but I really shouldn't, because I do pour syrup into my porridge and it probably tastes like more on it's own than those eggs.

[marshes-of-bones]

Wait people are legit upset about the fancam and then got legit upset at some mild ribbing in response??

Usually it seems to be a better idea to not say anything, but they weren't wrong, and responding to someone eiyh an illegitimate is silly but shouldn't be making them a target of real anger??

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

girl why the hell WEREN'T you at the devil's sacrament 👀 that's three sacraments in a row you've missed 👀 👀 👀

[fanaticalthings]

Bruce Wayne except he texts like an ominous boomer

wdym you can't tell if he's threatening them?

Based on this post by @mysterycitrus :)

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Bonus:

Happy birthday, Tim 🥰

[problemnyatic]

the steven universe hate is insane bc people are (or at least were) more upset that fictional war criminals got fictional hugs than they recognize that it singlehandedly advanced queer rep in children's media by lightyears and then straight up ate heavy retaliation for the nerve.

It does have real flaws that are worth discussing, but it also put their male protagonist in dresses and skirts and played it straight and even empowering, they aired a lesbian wedding on television, it was a genuinely queer, genuinely diverse piece of media through and through. It did a lot of real good for the real world.

But also the fictional characters caused fictional harm to other fictional characters, and didn't get an onscreen firing squad sentence. So, you know, it's basically ontologically evil in real life.

[beaft]

a small child came into the café today and asked to buy a chocolate truffle. he tapped a credit card on the reader and it did not go through, mainly because it was not a credit card but in fact a junior cinema pass. i gently explained he couldn't use that to buy things in shops and he looked so gutted that i was like "...but just this once you can have it for free, don't tell my boss though" he said thank you and walked out with his truffle and as he went i heard him chuckling to himself and saying "yes..... yes!!!!!" like the sickos comic

[doom-dreaming]

"when i was your age, i was working three jobs to help support my family" and "when i was in college i was sleeping on a mattress on the floor and living off of soup"

YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO DO THAT. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO DO THAT. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN TO YOU THAT THIS ISN'T A CHARACTER-BUILDING LESSON, IT'S JUST BAD

[daenerys-targaryen]

anyways take heat waves seriously. heat strokes and heat exhaustion are real. drink water. wear sunscreen. stay covered or in shaded areas if you can. pay attention to your skin - if it’s super flushed and your face is redder than usual, get under some shade and cool down IMMEDIATELY. pay attention to kids and elders too.

[kensatou]

"i would know her by reformed body alone... i would know her in death"

also... there's official art

[shepscapades]

I wish you coulda seen the look on my face when I glanced at Bdubs’ comment section for his wild life ep2

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.