#Relevance: 100%

[ceilidhtransing]

If you hear Republicans speak to other Republicans, you'll hear a lot of them say that they really don't like Trump for whatever reason (many of them aren't fans of the felony convictions, his personal manner, his business dealings, his family life, or whatever else) but that they'll still be voting for him because he'll get them closer to what they ultimately want. They're pragmatic; they don't demand purity in their candidate. They recognise him as their strategic choice so they'll set aside the issues they have with him and vote as a bloc. That's what makes them effective at getting their way. That's how they win elections.

And boy I wish we had more of that attitude on the left. Imagine what we could get done.

[hajihiko]

One of my favourite directions

[spark-circuit]

Cult of the Lamb: Pilgrim Pack Trailer (DLC Release Date - August 12th.)

[da-janela-lateral]

To be part of something big.

[sualne]

carnis au or also 'one meat', have some lore!

[gynoidgearhead]

Forget Traditional Homeownership: Meet the Transgender People Who Have Given Up On The Unattainable Ideal Of Traditional Personhood

[chloesimaginationthings]

Finally, that scene

[cantagirldrawinpeace]

More art of my girlfriend Eustass Kid (I hate him 💖)

[sharptoothed-gaze]

Anyone else thinking about how qPhilza essentially said that he thinks that death on Quesadilla Island is defined by its impermanence?

Because I still am, and it’s such an interesting thread to follow guys! Especially since when he was talking to Chayanne about it, he was referencing both the adult residents of the island and the dead eggs.

For the adults, we know they have respawn mechanics that can often render death down to an annoyance or even a joke. Then, there are the dead eggs, who can apparently still communicate and have conversations as ghosts despite being fully dead. From this, it is CLEAR that death is not actually the end for anyone who lives on this island. They can choose to be present regardless.

(Plus, we know that the Federation ultimately has control over the eggs’ lives. They have 100% been able to return them in some ways in the past like with Bobby’s final goodbye).

SO YEAH! Those examples of death were in qPhilza’s mind when he asked ‘what even is dead’ on the island? And that is fascinating because it’s genuinely so different from what he knew!!!

During his talk with Chayanne, Phil took the opportunity to explain the nature of the Death that he knows and is most is familiar with. It’s a Death that is permanent. He even addressed it as /real/ and distinguished it from that of the island.

Just the way he speaks about it really conveys the permanence and deep significance that Death held in the world he comes. It is a fundamental difference which highlights a distinction between Philza’s past and the reality he’s now living on Quesadilla Island.

For me, this also so clearly explains why he reacts to deaths on the island the way he does!!

At this point, he’s been on Quesadilla island so long that he has become very desensitized to the deaths of his fellow adults. To him, their deaths are nothing /permanent/ because that’s not how Death on the island works. Unlike where he’s from, he holds a confidence that any of his friends can come back with enough action.

HOWEVER even if he’s accepted this to be true for his friends, he can’t shake his own instincts. As much as he wants to think death is something safer here, he’s still from a world where Death is something entirely different. QPhilza is a deeply anxious and paranoid man who will probably never quite trust the idea that dying is okay. He might be connected to Death, but he is still a survivalist.

I think that QPhilza is a man who has felt true Death once before, and he will do everything in his power to avoid a repeat.

[cirrus-grey]

I do feel it might be important to point out-

MAG100:

MARTIN: Sorry again that the Archivist isn’t actually in today, um… but I should be… absolutely fine to take your statement if it, um, if that’s okay with you?

LYNNE: Er… yeah.

We don’t actually see it happen, but it’s very likely that Martin introduced himself to Lynne/Celia with his full name here before turning the tape on – he already knows her first and last name to do the statement intro a moment later.

MAG190:

CELIA: Sorry, we haven’t been introduced, you are…?

GEORGIE: Oh, um, of course, sorry. This is –

ARCHIVIST: Jonathan. Jon. Sims.

MARTIN: Uh, Martin. Hello!

…And she gets Jon’s full name in the tunnels, as well as a reminder that a “Martin” associated with the Institute is traveling with him. It’s impossible to say how much she remembers from the time before the apocalypse, of course, but I do think it’s likely that Celia has known Jon and Martin’s names this whole time, and has simply been waiting for the right moment to bring Sam in to help her look for them in this new world, too.

[witchspeka]

It's always "Shou and Ritsu need to blow stuff up with their minds for mental health reasons" or Ritsu and Teru or even Shou and Teru!

But what about Mob? When does he get to blow stuff up with his mind for funsies? For shits and giggles? He didn't go through all of those meltdowns and character development for nothing, let him go ham on a junkyard car or something smh

I believe in Mob's narrative given right to fuck shit up sometimes

[softpine]

can i just word vomit for a min...

there was a point in late 2023 where i felt like i overstayed my welcome on simblr and i planned on just wrapping frozen pines up as quickly as possible and moving on. continuing to write when it's clear that the audience for it is dwindling felt so embarrassing that i almost didn't even want to put effort into it anymore, because i was afraid it just looked pathetic (obligatory disclaimer: no one made me feel this way, you're all so lovely, it's just the nature of seeing a community change over 7 years). writing already feels very personal to me and it's becoming increasingly harder for me to put my work out there (again, for reasons unrelated to simblr and entirely related to mental illness 🤙🏻). i know my story is so long that it deters new readers, and so sporadic that it makes old readers drop off with time. this has really been bothering me lately because i don't know what i can do to fix it. i don't think there IS anything i can do.

but. okay. don't make fun of me for saying this. dan and phil returning to youtube kinda changed my mindset? they may be pulling a fraction of the views they got in their peak, but they're happier than they've ever been and they're working on things they actually want to do, not things they think will be particularly popular. seeing that has made me realize that it is possible to keep finding joy in a community that has largely moved on without you. obviously my little blog is nowhere near the same scale, so this feels kind of silly, but i've been thinking about all the things i used to do on simblr that were never fun for me, i mainly did them because i knew they would get notes or because i felt like i had to do it. making cc, lookbooks, sim requests, reshade help (oh my god the reshade help), lot downloads, etc. they DID get notes, but i can't imagine spending my time doing any of that stuff ever again tbh.

on top of that, it makes me sad to scroll through my dash and realize that i don't recognize most of the people i see anymore. i still talk to some wonderful people here who i consider friends and that's invaluable to me (💖), but the broader community aspect is something i no longer feel a part of. and believe me, i know i'm at fault here because it's not like i'm going out of my way to talk to new people or participate in trends like i used to. i don't blame anyone except the passage of time!!

frozen pines, and simblr by extension, played such a gigantic part in my life when i needed it the most. and that's not to say that i don't still care about it, because i absolutely do, but it's a different kind of feeling. i've always promised that i would give frozen pines a satisfying conclusion rather than silently abandoning it someday, and though i do intend to keep that promise, i know it's possible that i might never get there. but i don't want to let my own insecurities get in the way of something i really enjoy doing. writing is an intrinsic piece of me that i'll never quit doing, but sharing my writing on tumblr is something that can't (and shouldn't) last forever. i know that. but i'm going to enjoy it to the fullest while we're all still here together 💞

to anyone who's still reading my silly story after all these years (especially those of you who still check in on my blog even though you're not on simblr anymore): thank you thank you thank you THANK YOUUU. you don't have to change a single thing about what you're doing. this is not me fishing for compliments or putting down an ultimatum, this is just me trying to make sense of my feelings.

but with all this being said, i've decided to quit simblr and start my own exclusive streaming service for $60 a year, i hope you'll all support me as i increase my production value 😌

(just kidding. ily. okay that's all)

[gideonisms]

Breq was kind of risking it all when she let seivarden think she was a special missions officer while they were at omaugh palace because if seivarden had even once mentioned the mission she thought Breq was on the station AI would have immediately heard and reported it to anaander. But fortunately seivarden was too busy living out the middle of a romance novel in her head. She wasn't even paying attention to any of that she was starting fights with random people and trying to figure out why breq thought one of the dock inspectors was hot but not her

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 67: forget what you all saw today

[clarkgriffon]

the 100 is the funniest show in existence because in s3 it gave us the most lukewarm take about AI hive mind vs the human experience ever, where the AI is evil and wants to help humanity by eliminating pain, but to experience pain and the whole range of human emotions is to be human. like it was very boilerplate cookie cutter scifi, but it was coherent!

and then in s7 they bring in an alien hivemind that is essentially peddling the exact same function and they go "THIS IS NIRVANA THIS IS GOD THE HIVE MIND IS THE SAVIOR" with no remorse and not a single memory of the entire plotline of season 3

[hannahssimblr]

I open the envelope on the stairs. The same stairs I spent six years rushing up and down, going from class to class, that was always bustling with students, bumping shoulders, swinging school bags, yet here I am, on an empty staircase in the building I thought I’d never be inside again. All the people I thought I’d never have to see again are here too, milling in and out of the foyer, collecting envelopes, telling each other about their summer. Somehow I’d forgotten I would have to do this. 

I keep to myself, wishing to minimise any conversation. Get in, get out, that’s the plan. I slip my thumbnail under the lip of the envelope and pull my results out. 

Mathematics A1 English A1 Art A1 Biology B3 Geography B1 German A2

Oh, Jesus Christ. There’s a roaring in my ears. I shove my grades back into the envelope before anyone can see them, then add up the score in my head.

Five-fifty. Is that possible? I peek inside to check again. 

Yes. Five-fifty. 

I blow out a lungful of air. How can this be? I’m famously a fucking idiot. This is a disruption to my worldview. I hardly even studied towards the end of the year, so how in the-

“Jude?” Someone steps into my space, and I have to suppress a groan as Sam from the yearbook committee stands over me, looking completely misplaced without his uniform on. It’s like the freakish experience of seeing your teacher in the supermarket. Sam, without his starched uniform shirt and perfectly knotted tie, is hardly Sam at all. Perhaps he thinks the same of me without my tie, which was always hanging crooked with a blue ink stain on it that wouldn’t come off after a hundred washes.  

The smug look, however, is Sam all over. “Looking a bit glum. Are you disappointed in your results, or something?”

I pause. “No?”

“Oh, grand. Suppose you don’t need the marks anyway, do you? You’re off to art college in Berlin, so I heard.”

“You heard correctly.”

“Surprised to see you here at all, I have to say. I thought you might have been gone already, off to the continent and all that, instead of coming into school.”

“No, my flight’s Wednesday.”

“Ah. So soon.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” He stands expectantly, hovering, and so, with a sigh, I ask him what he is frothing to be asked. “What points did you get, Sam?”

“Five forty,” he gloats. “I’ll be off to Trinity now, all going well with the offers and all that. ‘Twas an expected result, but I’m still thrilled with myself. Just goes to show that hard work and proper study really pay off.”

“Yeah. Well done. Lucky that points don’t count for me, then, hm?”

“Well, it’s only art school. It’s not like you need to be smart.”

“Yep, that’s true.”

Sam’s head swivels like a submarine periscope. “Oh, look who’s just come in.” His mouth stretches into an unsettling grin. “Sure, it’s the lovely Michelle Tengu. You should say hi to her.”

“Right, yeah.” I say, though my fight or flight has activated and my palms prickle with sweat.

Michelle crosses the linoleum floor in the chunky black boots she’s had since fifteen. She accepts her envelope from the principal and stands to the side where she tears it open and her eyes scan the page. It’s impossible to tell how she feels.

She looks the same, of course she does. Maybe her hair is longer, maybe her makeup is different, her skin a little browner, and I have this feeling as I see her, that I am looking at a picture of a person I used to know, someone whose name I remembered, but whose face I had long forgotten. This girl I loved, or thought I did. I don’t really know that person anymore, at least not how I used to. 

She sees me and gives a hesitant wave. 

I wave back. 

“You’re still here,” she approaches me with the caution one would with a spooked cat, emotions flashing over her face, like she can’t decide how to feel. Neither can I. She’s still blocked in my phone, from that fateful night in June, but now, on the cusp of September, those heavy feelings I had seem so melodramatic. I am just Jude, she is just Michelle, and somewhere along the way, without me even paying heed to it, a storm has passed. 

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“I expected you to sneak off to Berlin under the cloak of night.”

“That’s the plan, honestly. I just needed my results first.”

“I see. Are you happy with them?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I got enough for NCAD.”

“Oh, Michelle, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” An odd moment follows, where I am not sure whether I should hug her. I twitch toward her, then second guess myself, and then I just freeze there, halfway lifted from the step. I slump back down onto it. 

“It, um… Well. It sounds like you had a pleasant summer, and all that.” She says. “Jen was telling me all about it.”

“Was she? Yeah, it was fine. Did she really say it was pleasant?”

“She mentioned that you two had a bit of a falling out, to be honest.”

“Ah, yeah, we did.”

She gives me this awkward smile, and it’s instantly obvious that she knows. Jen, being Jen, has told her the entire story. She’s revealed every aspect of my summer - the festival, the conflicts, and its conclusion. She knows about Evie too. It’s in her eyes. It’s that hint of betrayal she knows she’s not supposed to feel anymore. In them lies the sting of an ex moving on and leaving her behind.   

“I’m, um…” I smooth the front of my hair. “I think things will be alright with Jen, probably. I just need time, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it.” She adds delicately, “though, like, you are leaving in about five days.”

“That’s true.”

“And you were really planning to just vanish?”

“Well, yes. I just don’t know how else to do it.”

“Usually people have a party or something.”

“No, come on,” I scoff. “I’m not doing all of that. It’s so much work.”

“Hm. I just think you’ll regret not saying goodbye.”

I can’t decide whether she’s right, and can’t think of what to argue in my defence, so I say nothing. A sympathetic smile crosses her face. It’s strange. She never looked at me like that while we were together.

“I can help,” she says. “It can be low-key, just a few people. I’ll send out a text and see who wants to come, yeah? Whoever wants to say goodbye?”

“Including Jen?”

“I’ll need to invite Jen.” she shrugs, “it might be a good chance to talk. To get it all ironed out.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. I think it’s best not to leave things unfinished.”

“Hm. That’s very philosophical of you.”

“Are you shocked?”

“Kind of.”

She huffs out a laugh. “Well I’ve been seeing someone.”

“A boy?”

“A therapist. I realised after we broke up that I had some things to work through. I had some… big feelings.”

“That’s great, Shell.”

I could swear that her eyes get a little misty as she inhales, as though to say something before deciding against it. She straightens her shoulders and smiles. “I’m happy you’re happy.” She says brightly. “With the Leaving Cert results, obviously.”

“I’m happy you’re happy, too.”

She glances toward the door. “Look, I better go, but I’ll text you about the going away party, right?”

“Yeah, I better unblock you.” It slips out of me before I can stop it, but to my immense relief, she laughs. “Good idea. See you Jude.”

“Bye, Shell. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“I dunno. For this.”

She just smiles. 

Beginning // Prev // Next