my favorite fantasy world is tortall
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my favorite fantasy world is tortall
The Catalogue of Ships in the Iliad is, to a modern audiences, what classicists have called “boring as hell,” but I can’t help but think that if you were watching Homer recite it it would have been more like when comedians go, “anybody here tonight from Chicago?” and the Chicagoans in the back start cheering
Homer’s like, “and there were forty black ships from… LOCRIS” and the Locrians in the crowd start going absolutely nuts
Rayane Brown at Jason Wun Couture Spring 2026
"depiction is not automatically glorification" can and should coexist with "some depiction is glorification and you need to be able to tell the difference"
Please add to that list "apparent glorification in the first 15% of the thing does not constitute real glorification if the remaining 85% is dedicated to suffering the consequences, deconstructing the damage and changing ways" because some people around here don't understand how the three act structure works.
Y'know yeah i will absolutely add this especially since people keep saying fight club is an example of glorification. Genuinely thanks for having one of the few good additions to this post
Painless
There were seven of us, seven is an unlucky number, and it has a tendency to over correct itself into something easy and even. It was never a good number to begin with but made worse by the curse.
My mother was cursed. She called it “setting little fires in my youth.” The problem with fire is that it sometimes chases you down and blackens the wallpaper and ruins the furniture and perfumes what clothing you have left with smoke so dank it curdles your stomach.
I knew a thing or two about fire by the time I was nine. That was my brother’s doing.
He was born first and also the first to go. It wasn’t dying, I think the warlock that left the curse didn’t have the stomach for death, not the real kind. He wanted it to hurt, but warlocks have such a strange definition of “better” and “worse.” My brother was a big young man, all of eighteen that day, he wore his pants low and chin held high. He liked online fighting games and painted his room himself in colors of red and orange. Maybe he knew. Or maybe we are the makers of our own ends. He was crossing the street with us for school when he started to smoke. Not with a cigarette or a joint or anything else you might expect– his hands let off puffs of thick acrid-smelling smoke and then his heels.
His face went slack and the red licked at his cheeks from the inside.
He was all but burning by the time I reached him. I don’t think it hurt. He didn’t scream or shout, but tears welled up in his eyes before the end. “Let mom know.” He was easily carried away on the breeze to set some bush on fire or burn down a local park.
I always keep the TV on tuned to the weather channel at home. I keep track of different forest fires in the Rockies or building fires in Massachusetts. I blink a couple times and think to myself: Is this him? Is that Danny? Is he happy?
We stuck closer together after that and didn’t make many, or any, outside friends. We spent our time arguing and pushing and kicking for mom’s attention, and hoping we weren’t all haunted by the inevitable.
Marcella was next. We shared a bedroom, me and all the girls, with one unicorn light for the youngest and another light from the crack under the door. But we didn’t need any light that night.
My eyes flew open as bright neon filled the gaps in the space and I squinted at something impossible. Marcella stood up in the middle of her bed looking blank. She didn’t cry out either, but simply stood upright and stared. Her bones were orange and yellow and green and pink neon, glowing from the inside out like a painted Halloween skeleton. It was all bright nonsense as if glow sticks were cracked in her joints. “Oh,” she said once and only once.
She grew brighter and brighter before turning into nothing but light and silence.
We ran after that– as if magic can’t catch you if you run fast enough. If you skip town enough and demand favors off of lesser witches. That didn’t stop it from getting Brady.
He turned into bubbles and music the second we entered Sea World. He barely made it through the door before he collapsed and left nothing but violin melodies and bubbles catching rainbows and floating toward the sun. Sometimes his voice still dances next to me in the morning light and I’ve even stopped crying over it.
“It won’t hurt,” I tell my little sister because I am next in line. I’m the oldest now. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
And it doesn’t.
Fire, neon, bubbles. I felt the call before anything else, like an ache in my chest, and I didn’t try to fight it. We were all together in the backseat of mom’s minivan. We were skipping town again and headed to the next dank wherever. I exhaled from someplace deep inside myself and closed my eyes.
“I’m gonna get ‘em.” I announced, “I’m gonna see his smug damn face and I’m gonna break it.”
“What are you saying?” A small voice asked. I was 14. It started with my fingers: crooked. Wrong. It went to my wrists: hard and unnatural. It spread to my elbows: painfully thick and ancient. My sister screamed but I didn’t look up.
“No, no, no, no, no.”
I didn’t feel it. Branching, reaching for the sun, breaking in all the worst ways as I turned into a tree before their very eyes. I didn’t mind though. “Let me out.” Those were my last words before it reached my neck and I tumbled out into the bright unforgiving world as something changed.
I found myself in the soft earth. I was placed in a park I think. Squirrels played among my hair and little burrowing creatures went among my roots. And I waited. And waited. And Waited, capital W.
He came though. Immortality lends itself to visiting many places more than once. He came strolling through my forest in the grips of his own arrogance. My brother was waiting too as the Warlock walked under my branches and I let the world start to crackle and smoke.
I suppose the Warlock was right. If you set enough fires they eventually do catch up to you.
but if we’re already talking about Dick Grayson being a dork then I wanna remind everyone of the time he was eating a lollipop and he annoyed Helena so much with it she literally slapped it out of his hand:
and he gives her THIS LOOK afterwards:
totally serious spy™
Worth noting though, that that ENTIRE performance had an ulterior motive. He was making Helena and Mr Minos SO annoyed with him, that they never thought about him dropping the lollipop so it would pick up dead skin cells off the floor from Mr Minos, which might allow Dick to identify who he is.
Dick is doing what he’s been doing his whole career. Using the expectations of his appearance to take advantage of the bad guys presumptions about him.From being the kid in the silly costume, to the pretty boy who isn’t a REAL spy because he’s been a costumed hero for so long.
Dick Grayson’s superpower? He’s a performer.
Always feel nostalgic when I see the original Wheel of Time books so here is a drawing of my OCs based off cover art by Darrell K. Sweet :)
This is the 85 year old creator of Roger Rabbit:
reading a historical romance novel and reflecting on the way these stories often present woke nobility for the contemporary reader. a big thing is servants. you can’t not have servants in those times but many modern readers think “but I would never have servants. it would be so weird to have servants” and in order to make the protagonists of the story more relatable they are actually friends with the servants. but flip your perspective and think of it from the side of the servants. wouldn’t it be so awful if your boss was always trying to be friends with you. a really common thing you’ll see is the woke baronet having tea in the kitchen with the servants bc he’s not like other baronets. but what if your boss wanted to hang out and talk during your lunch break every day. not so charming when you think about it that way
#okay but now what is the optimal way to be a good boss in this situation i genuinely wanna know#its easy to guess what makes a bad boss or a mid boss. but what is a good boss#specifically in such a highly structured hierarchal situation (via @rainbowroach)
HELLO you are asking questions that literature and poetry THROUGHOUT the middle ages has asked, and it is from this questioning that we derive things like the Codes of Chivalry (which is not "how to treat a noble lady really nice" but is actually "how to be an ethical person when you're rich and you own a horse" and includes such things as "don't run people over with your horse")
In fact I daresay you already know instinctively just from cultural osmosis what a good boss -- a good liege lord -- is and does based on the tropes that have survived to the current day and the kinds of things that get Hugely Praised in things like legends of King Arthur.
A good boss (liege lord) is:
Merciful. He is not having his peasants killed for things like poaching rabbits during a famine. In fact, he is working to mitigate famine. During times of individual hardship, he might negotiate with a peasant for a payment plan on their annual rent.
Patient. He is not impulsive, he does not lose his temper.
Prudent. He makes choices that are thoughtful, considered, conservative (in the sense of not needlessly risky--he's not investing his entire fortune in having everyone plant an unproven crop). He is making sure local infrastructure like roads and public buildings are maintained and kept in good nick.
Gentle. He doesn't haul off and slap a servant or a tenant for breaking a dish or making a mistake. He doesn't abuse animals, his wife or children, or his employees. He doesn't rape the servants.
Generous (both in money and in spirit). He is not extorting the peasants for an amount of rent that is beyond their means, he is not raising taxes every year to cover his own lavish lifestyle. He is paying his servants a living wage (or, if wages are low, he's giving them room/board/clothing to make up the difference). If someone in a tenant's family dies, the lord is sending a gift of condolence, or helping to pay for the funeral, or possibly even ATTENDING the funeral and speaking a few kind words about the deceased, ESPECIALLY if they were a really upstanding and important member of the community. If one of his tenants is gravely sick, the lord is sending a basket of food or paying for a doctor. He is giving charitably (generally this will be, like, a bequest to the church so that they can run a hospital or an orphanage or a school for the local village children).
Pious. This classically means "goes to church, submits with humility to God" but to me this quality is subtextually standing in for "maintaining an ongoing sense of Perspective that HE'S not god, that there are higher powers he is Accountable to, that he too can be Judged, etc, so that he doesn't end up going on a weird fucked up power trip"
Humble. One of the most admiring things you hear about a lord doing in literature and epic poetry is, "He ate off of wooden plates while his followers ate off of gold and silver." Humility isn't about being meek, it's just about not thinking so much of yourself that you turn your nose up and sneer at what "lesser" people do. In other words: Don't be a fucking diva. If your carriage gets stuck in the mud, climb out and help everybody else push, you're not gonna die from getting mud on your shoes.
Condescending. This word has changed wildly in meaning/tone over the last couple centuries -- it's now a rude thing to do (because we've done away with legal social hierarchies, so someone acting like they're lowering themselves to your level IS insulting), but in older times, a high-ranking person "condescending" to a servant was worthy of praise and admiration: it means they were setting aside rank and privilege to speak to them with the easygoing, friendly respect and compassion they'd give a peer. This is things like... Treats those beneath him with courtesy and respect (ie: listens soberly and attentively when one of his servants or tenants comes to complain about a problem). Having a sense of humor and kindness about it when the lord and a servant both come around a corner at the same time and run into each other and the servant gets knocked to the ground and starts babbling apologies--the condescending (positive) lord helps them to their feet with his own hands and cracks a joke to show them that it's ok (as opposed to just walking off without a word or insulting/scolding them). This is also things like trusting a farmer, woodcutter, or artisan to speak with expertise about their own livelihood and taking their advice into consideration if they tell the lord that one of his ideas won't work.
Good boundaries. The ethical liege lord knows that it's normal for the staff to probably be softly bitching about him in private (even with a really good boss, we all grumble from time to time). He's not eavesdropping on them, he's not going into the staff areas where they should reasonably expect to have a degree of privacy, etc.
Righteous and protective of "the weak". The "weak" here doesn't necessarily mean physically weak, this is often used in the sense of someone politically or socially weak, aka The Marginalized -- the poor, the disabled, women, children, the elderly, etc. If a lord sees someone like this being mistreated or abused, he's supposed to step in and put a stop to that.
Committed to reciprocity. In a highly hierarchical system like feudalism, every person (from the lowest peasant all the way up to the crown prince) legally OWES their liege lord certain things (taxes, labor, service, loyalty, etc). A good liege remembers and takes very seriously the idea that this should be a balanced and reciprocal relationship -- in other words, he owes something BACK. Feudalism is modeled very strongly on the family system: If children owe their parents obedience and service, then parents owe their children care and protection. This still applies when the "child" is a farmer and the "parent" is a local baron. Or when the "child" is a duke and the "parent" is the king.
Basically, we get so caught up in the aesthetics of nobility that we forget that it literally is a managerial position that comes with responsibilities that were... very similar back in the day to the same ones we have now. Humans have not changed all that much. At the end of the day, a really good boss in the 1400s versus in one from the 2020s displays most of the same qualities of personality, even if the details of execution are different.
The next question is, of course, "well, but this theoretical liege lord is HIGHLY idealized -- how often did that actually HAPPEN? Wasn't it more likely that everyone was exploited all the time?" and to that I say: Well, maybe. But again, I don't think humans have changed all that much. Just like the bosses of today, there's a SPECTRUM: A really really good boss is rare and precious and one that you tell stories about for years after you've left that job, but a truly, genuinely, homicidally nightmarish boss is also pretty rare. Most bosses are sort of meh -- they have their good moments, they have their shitty moments, but they're tolerable and you can get along with them well enough to do your job, and then you roll your eyes at them behind their back. Generally, humans don't take outright exploitation lying down. Being a bad boss in the historical period is how you get peasant uprisings and revolts, and you know that to be true because your parents raised you with that knowledge, so unless you are very stupid or inbred or an egomaniac, there is literal personal incentive to at minimum be a Tolerable liege lord. And that means hitting at least SOME of the above bullet points.
TL;DR: In the words of Honore de Balzac, "Everything I have just told you can be summarized by an old word: noblesse oblige!"
(for more discussions of the ethics of fealty and what it means to be a good boss when you are an exquisitely beautiful twink of a prince with a hot beefy bodyguard.... [fingerguns] read A Taste of Gold and Iron)
xena gave us trans drag lesbianism as a treat
There are layers to this. Earlier in the episode, Xena discovers her secret while they're sharing a locker room. A woman she has got naked with turned out to be trans. It's the exact scenario terfs are always fear-mongering about, but Xena just shrugs it off.
Also, the kiss was a big deal not just because it was gay but because the trans actress was HIV positive. They wanted to show the world that you can't contract HIV just from kissing someone. Bear in mind, the AIDS crisis was still fresh on people's minds in the 90s.
Happy Pride.
if you start introducing nice things into your life it's a slippery slope and you have to be careful in case you start liking it when things are nice
*guy who doesn't know anything about sports and has never cared about sports in his life* hey did you know womens professional baseball is returning after 70 years and the games are going to be streamed for free on youtube and the season starts august 1st
youtube link
Our time is now. The inaugural season of the WPBL begins August 1st, 2026.
website
I think this is so cool and it's awesome they're streaming games for free! I also think it's incredible that this picture is the one they used to advertise the opening day. It's like those videos where someone threatens the camera while their partner shows off their collection of rocks they found.
A character trait/dynamic that I'm endlessly compelled by is someone dealing with (or, like, failing to) being the child of people who were too busy being good people to have the time and attention to be good parents. This can be anywhere from 'was a public defender who gave a shit working 60 hour weeks with basically no vacations' to 'left their family behind to join the revolution/war effort and is now a universally beloved martyr-hero who saved/remade the world with their final breath' on the groundedness spectrum. The important thing is a viscerally felt but confused and ugly mess of longing, resentment, and guilt about feeling the resentment.
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#the idea that someone can simultaneously be a bad parent and a good person is one that seems to escape a LOT of people#I see far too many people who insist that if someone is a bad parent they're also a bad person#because being a bad parent MAKES them a bad person#“well they never should have had kids if they were going to be bad at it!” cool cool so I don't know if you know this but#not everyone is able to see how things will play out before they happen#also someone may be a GREAT parent for one kid but a mediocre one for another kid#because (and I know this is another pretty alien idea to a lot of tumblr) everyone is different#what one child needs is not necessarily the same as what another child needs#anyway#it's much more fun to explore this concept in fiction than in reality#when it happens IRL at least one real person gets screwed over; in fiction it's an interesting story to explore
So fucking true
I know people who are great as friends for example, but they shouldn't be parents.