the trail to oregon & ani are the lion king & pocahontas of starkid. i can explain
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Love the contrast between the Americans’ “Apollo” and the Soviets’ “Sputnik.” You got the Americans naming their rocket after a Greek god trying to communicate the grandness and importance of this rocket. And you got the Soviets naming their rocket “fellow traveler.” Like a friend you go on an adventure with together. This rocket is our little friend lol
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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.
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ROMANCE DAWN TRIO
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
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Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.
"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."
translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"
It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!
very this
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I've seen a lot of takes saying stuff like "Why did Ivy had to die for being a little mean to Mazey once".
Guys. Ivy had to die because she was part of the group actively trying to bring an apocalypse to Elmville, revive a corrupted rage God and fuck up everything in the process. She shot The Hangman without hesitation. SHE WOULD HAVE TRIED TO KILL THE BAD KIDS IF GIVEN THE CHANCE.
We can sit here and talk all day about how the Rat Grinders are just teenagers being manipulated by adults they trust (which they are! don't get me wrong, I know that!), and how they deserve a second chance. But also. The Bad Kids are teenagers too. They're teens trying to save the world. Of course they're gonna kill the bad guys, if they don't, everyone they know will most likely die, themselves included! Fabian being petty for Mazey's sake was just an added bonus, not the sole reason for his attacks.
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the thing (1982) x tamagotchi
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-It's not your impression, he really did it.
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Most annoying NMJ or JC take is when someone that dislikes them is like "oh you're a fan of him? *scoff* Well obviously you've only seen cql, where he was super watered down. In the novel he's a dislikable asshole and that's the objectively superior canon I'm working from instead of your woobified fanfic." Meanwhile your main canon is novel canon and you genuinely find novel Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue complex sympathetic characters.
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Not the son you were looking for
The Fentons were sure that their son was dead. They didn't understand why Phantom pretended to be their little Danny, nor why he made so many illogical excuses like "being a hybrid" and so on. At first they played along, but they were angry, angry that the truth was being kept from them, angry because they were sure that the supposed hero had done something to their son, and he even managed to trick Jazz!
It all made sense when Phantom was declared Ghost King, of course, he surely had Danny captive! It shouldn't be hard for the King of the Dead to manipulate a soul, maybe he was gaining power from that. They were sure, they had seen the King argue with one of his ghost-capturing devices and keep it always guarded, a big secret surely.
Unfortunately for them, the GIW had disbanded, so they had to turn to their second choice: The Justice League. It was an organization of heroes that had only recently formed, but the Fenton's were sure they would help them, so they contacted them and explained the situation. The League was skeptical but when they heard that a child might be in danger they acted immediately.
They didn't confront the King directly, they weren't idiots, but they stole the thermos, willing to give the child trapped in it a break. They could deal with the Ghost King later.
Unfortunately for everyone, as soon as the Fentons hit the "release" button what came out was not their son's soul, no. Dan Phantom watched them with a wide grin, free for the first time in years. The League had a feeling they had made a grave mistake.
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Prompt 96
Bruce squinted up at the older kid, frowning. Oh sure they didn’t look like a kid, and honestly had a ridiculous-looking suit of some sort, but he could tell. And seeing as he was in an unknown place- without Alfred- with several people after him- nothing new, he was the lone Wayne now after all- he figured it would be safer to stick together.
Billy on the other hand, is inwardly sweating when baby de-aged batman comes sprinting around the corner and glares up at him for what feels like an eternity before ducking beneath his cape with a hissed “Hide me from those weirdos”
Um. Okay, what is he supposed to do now in this situation???
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Hot take? A show with queer people in it from the beginning was never queerbaiting and— very literally and technically— never could. In the first episode, a gay man comes out to his family. And he doesn’t stop being gay after that; it’s a major plot point and part of his character going forward. You’ve had a married lesbian couple from the jump who are proud and unapologetic about their love for each other. The story has also portrayed several queer couples and stories in episodic plots, including featuring queer weddings.
Buck didn’t suddenly “become” bi. Queerness is not when straight people “turn” queer. He has been attracted to men the entire time; he has always been bi. Understanding yourself and your sexuality as a queer person is often so difficult under heteronormativity. Sometimes, it takes time.
Hell— Buck checking a guy out some time in season 3 or getting flustered by the idea he might like a guy, etc, etc, are not even examples “queerbaiting,” nevermind how the show already features queer stories.
I genuinely think some of y’all are just mad that he’s not sucking face with the man you want him to, and are being weirdly homophobic about it. “Buck kissing this man is kinda off-putting, lmao.” “Buck and his bf’s relationship is awkward. IDK, but it weirds me out.” “There’s something so cringe about Buck’s relationship—” “Who dates someone they haven’t been friends with for years first? It’s kinda creepy…” “I think their relationship is a weird mess. It’s not as meaningful as a slow burn.”
Life isn’t fanfiction and fanfiction tropes don’t make good writing. Most relationships start out with a “hey, I’m interested in you, let’s get to know each other.” You’re just transparently uncomfortable with two men expressing that interest in each other outside the arbitrary rules you’ve established to make a mlm relationship “legitimate” or “meaningful.”
[Fanfiction] tropes— from “there’s only one bed” to “we’re forced together, but fall in love anyway”— are responses to the sex-negativity and purity culture norms forced upon gender and sexual minorities. They provide a workaround for these norms but never a direct challenge. It’s like the Family Guy episode “Prick Up Your Ears,” where conservative Christian abstinence-only sex education leads to kids having ear sex. Ear sex is the workaround to the abstinence and purity rules they’d been taught, not the challenge. We still have stringent rules around who can touch whom and under what circumstances. Tropes reflect this. So, a trope like “there’s only one bed” provides the characters with a justification for their intimacy without directly challenging why it is taboo.
You’ve convinced yourself that shipping— and thus the tropes it employs— is more subversive than actual representation, and the people caught in the crossfire are actual queer people.
Also— for the love of fuck— stop comparing every mlm relationship to RW&RB.
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“queer spaces should be inclusive of people who don’t enjoy sex and who have “strange”, negative or repulsed relationships with sex” and “sex is an important aspect of lgbt community, history, and activism and queer people should be allowed and able to talk freely about sex without stigma or shame” are ideas that can and should coexist.
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y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???
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