Honestly the funniest thing about that one city in Antiva being named Treviso like the very much real Italian city is seeing all my fellow countrymen that don’t play the games being so fucking confused by posts about it, especially the ones about the qunari wars and the exhaled marches.

Tranquilli raga, tutt’apposto. Come fandom stiamo sclerando per nulla ma stiamo aspettando la continuazione di questa serie da dieci anni ma ne vale la pena, specie se vi piace Baldur’s Gate 3.

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

had a category 5 lesbian moment looping midwest princess for the past couple hours so i drew some stills from this vid

some of you people are so obsessed with having an acceptable group to ‘punch up’ at that you would rather pretend a marginalized group are Basically The Oppressors™ than listen to their valid criticisms about the fact that ‘punching up’ very rarely hits the intended target, and the majority of the actual damage of that act is suffered by fellow marginalized people in your own community. there is a significant difference between venting frustrations about privileged groups and just outright attacking anyone who (you assume) experiences that axis of privilege regardless of - and in many cases outright denying - their actual lived experiences. it goes far beyond just ‘venting frustrations’ when what you’re really doing is trying to find a moral justification to bully people you don’t like, and when your own desire for catharsis and moral superiority leads to ignoring the voices of the vulnerable people you hurt. you’re not ‘punching up’ - you just like punching people for the sake of punching.

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

dumbest

motherfucker

on the goddamn planet

"chilchuck isn't a twink, he's a DILF!" now i get why you're saying that but i feel like you've maybe forgotten what chilchuck tims canonically looks like

i'm sorry but this man is a twink. also DILF isn't a body type it's a status (and technically, an opinion) so he can be both

"but he's middle-aged!" look at him. look with your eyeballs. his age has nothing to do with the fact that he Looks Like That. he's a twink. the sooner you accept this the less angry his fandom will make you

edit bc this post has become the bane of my existence:

FAQ

Q: wtf do you mean he's a dad? he looks like a kid. A: he is 29 years old, and a half-foot. half-foots are dungeon meshi's halflings, or hobbits, or whatever you want to call them.

Q: wait, if he's 29, why the fuck are you calling him middle-aged? A: half-foots have an average lifespan of 50 years. chilchuck was originally drawn with grey hairs (you can see that in the manga fullbody) but the mangaka gave up on that over time. he's middle-aged for his race.

Q: hey, doesn't that look like a little angry face on his boot in the manga drawing? A: yea kinda

Silly mood to draw my faves 🤭

volo edit under the cut ↷

I just really thought this was necessary 😭

Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and Lady of Ithilien; Warrior and Healer

Chamomile: Chamomile helps to improve sleep, reduce anxiety, hay fever, inflammation, muscle spasms, wounds, ulcers, digestive disorders, and rheumatic pain - Chamomile symbolizes joy, positivity, peace, grace, and good luck.

Calendula: Calendula treats burns, bruises, and cuts - Calendula symbolizes endurance (due to its long bloom time), joy, remembrance, and grief.

Lavender: Lavender helps with sleep, treats skin blemishes, relieves pain, reduces blood pressure, combats fungus growth, and promotes hair growth; Lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, serenity, and grace - the color purple is the color of royalty, elegance, refinement and luxury.

Taraxacum (dandelion): Taraxacum leaves are used to stimulate the appetit, help digestion, and help the immune system - Taraxacum symbolizes hope, strength, and transformation.

Eowyn lived in Ithilien with Faramir, who had been declared ruling Prince of the land, after the war of the ring, and dwelt together in the hills of Emyn Arnen, where she was known as both the Lady of Ithilien and Emyn Arnen, as well as Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and shield arm.

I just want to see him again.

this is not me trying to defend nintendo's business practices or say that either of these games don't have flaws, but I think a lot of the comparisons people are making between breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom are a little unfair and don't really take into account that they are different games with different purposes.

"breath of the wild feels so empty compared to tears of the kingdom" ... yeah? with breath of the wild, one of the game's main themes was isolation. you wake up in the future far after the apocalypse you were trying to prevent has already settled. you have no memories, very little strength. just like hyrule, just like zelda, all you have is your will to continue. breath of the wild is the quiet moments, the secret spaces, the weight of the world that has continued to turn without you still resting on your shoulders.

tears of the kingdom is not like that. hyrule is no longer the wild. it is no longer quiet and lonely. there's community. every sidequest is intertwined. your friends fight alongside you. this isn't "fixing" breath of the wild, this is it's natural continuation. as time goes on the world continues to heal and rebuild. if breath of the wild was clawing hope, tears of the kingdom is direct action.

like yeah there are things tears is doing better and (imo) things breath of the wild did better. but i don't think either one is a replacement for the other.

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

and some extra unused stuff while they are in affectionate mood

the change from tess being killed by soldiers in the game to the mob of infected coming to the capitol building and her blowing the place up while simultaneously sacrificing herself… like yes she sacrificed herself in the game but her sacrifice in the show just seems so much more meaningful now. it may just be the second episode but the show has yet again proven just how much care and heart has been put into this series. this really is a love letter to the ones who played the game and have connected with the story for all these years like myself. i’m so in love and am just so in awe of this show, it’s like i’m playing the game again for the very first time.

Hope everyone had a good Christmas I got... Shingles.