Men and teenage boys treat not having a girlfriend like they’re being literally tortured to death
The way that five billion men are proving my point exactly in the replies

JVL
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
trying on a metaphor
One Nice Bug Per Day

shark vs the universe
Mike Driver
NASA
cherry valley forever
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
hello vonnie
AnasAbdin
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Andulka

#extradirty

★
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS

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@sarsaparillia
Men and teenage boys treat not having a girlfriend like they’re being literally tortured to death
The way that five billion men are proving my point exactly in the replies
Mel Brooks on taking studio notes:
Now it's time for some tender shuake postcards... Don't be afraid to confess your love and place your trust in someone, whenever your heart tells you to 🩵
Rewatching the original "The Little Mermaid" animated movie while working on something else... I can't quite recall at the moment (early into it atm) if this movie ever establishes Eric as the heir of the throne of his kingdom.
I think it'd be really funny if Eric was actually a younger brother. So, like, maybe he's a duke, actually, but he still gets the title of Prince. Travels the sea a lot, unlike a more landlocked heir. Hanging out at this summer seaside palace while the rest of the family is elsewhere for some reason.
Like, imagine Eric's parents and older brother and maybe sister-in-law and niblings getting that letter at the end of this movie. Nearly drowned. Miraculously washed ashore. Fell in love with a mysterious voice and then a mute girl. Got enchanted by a shape-shifting sea witch and nearly married her. Killed the sea witch after she turned into a giant. Married the aforementioned girl who turned out to be the beloved youngest daughter of the mythical King Triton instead and have now established a strong alliance with the merpeople. Wild summer! Wish you were here!
(via @owl-librarian)
Top 10 places to have the curse broken:
10. In a gaudy temple. The fee was exorbitant for something most acolytes can do, but time was of the essence. The higher quality oil they anoint your face and shoulders with smells nice and the sun shines through a stained glass window that has your favorite color.
9. An inn where you've been sweating into the sheets of a rented bed for a few days. The revelry downstairs makes it difficult to hear what the old woman that freed you told your friends. But they look relieved to have you back and you're relieved to be back.
8. Out in a field, where the wild grasses still benefit from the blood that spilled there a lifetime ago. A spirit that looks like you, in a uniform you never wore, grasps your shoulders. You're told to hold tight as the spirit goes to find aid. They never return. You never tell what happened once the others notice your return.
7. Stuck in the middle of a crowd awaiting an execution. The conflict you felt about the punishment disappeared when the blade met the wood beneath. Around you, others blink and shake their heads as if just awaking, feeling the same release as you.
6. On a slab in a morgue. Your returned breath caused the mortuary assistant to drop her tools. The resulting clatter woke you up. She screamed, you fought to remove the sheet covering your face, and the mortician laughed at the both of you when they made it down the steps.
6. In the space that was once your childhood bedroom. It's not a room anymore, the walls fell away to nature or some other force. The metal skeleton of a bedframe gives a support structure to vining plants that drape around a stone carving of a rabbit. You forget what exactly you placed in front of the carving as you try to find your way back to the road.
5. On the field of combat, sounds of pain, exertion, and metal impacting leather and wood finally breaking through the ringing that's been drowning you for ages. The person you were preparing to swing your weapon at has an open hand extended to you. You take it and help them up.
4. At midnight, sitting in the dust of a rural crossroads intersection. Next to you sits an older man in a wrinkled suit. He glances over at you and smiles, like you're a pleasant surprise. With a chuckle, he claps your shoulder and uses it to push himself up to his feet. By the time you think to ask any questions, he's long gone.
3. In the arms of a stranger on a busy festival dance floor. You return to yourself for the first time you can recall as someone whose name you don't remember teaches you the steps to a dance you'll never forget. Music and laughter and spices and frying batter. The person that stumbles home in your shoes later that night is someone you've never been yet.
2. In the early hours before dawn, sitting in front of a headstone. It's not yours but it could have been. The person who rests under it still owes you money. You are finally realizing that you no longer feel like you would give up the rest of your possessions to bring them back. You can feel them laughing at you for taking so long to get to this point. You didn't bring flowers, but the small pile of plucked grass blades you made while talking to the headstone counts in the only way that matters.
1. Where you are right now.
Yes I know you mistrust the banks, milord, and I don't blame you, but their Vault Wizards are specially trained to prevent dragons from detecting large amounts of gold. I cannot emphasize enough that it's a full-time job employing multiple specialists, I'm not trying to be humble here but it's not something that just the court magician and I can set up a couple wards for on the weekends and call it good.
It's, it's just that dragons are the primordial embodiment of avarice wrought into fire and flesh. They are truly, supernaturally good at finding large amounts of valuables, that's why the big mines hire those Dragon Scouts to go sniff out their lairs and mark them on the maps as potential mining ventures. You know, in case someone slays the relevant dragon. Which doesn't happen often because, milord, they are simply not that easily slain.
No I know you've hired many knights, blooded warriors and true. Yes, I was there when you gave the ten most impressive ones their special sashes. Very grand, very high honors, of course. Ehm. It's just, none of them have ever actually faced a dragon. Yes no I know Sir Edbert says he did but Sir Edbert is rather notoriously prone to exaggerated and tragically unverifiable tales---
Well no milord of course I would not doubt the word of a sworn knight. Perhaps his sobriety, but not his word, as such.
The point is that the grand treasury, while surely grand and a very special notion, is just... it is mayhaps not the ideal way of handling the realm's finances? Perhaps a series of smaller vaults, capped well below the dangerous wealth threshold at which gold is known to whet the appetite of colossal winged harbingers of death, in different corners of the realms or...?
No, I, yes well I do realize that will impede anyone's interests in coming into the vault to hurl around the gold coins and go "whee, I'm so rich!" I am aware of its deficiencies as a plan in that regard. No, I see I've misjudged a few things.
Actually, thinking on it, milord, I truly believe what you need is a fresh set of skilled wizards on this job. The court magician and I, we cannot keep up with your visionary thinking. We're too old-fashioned. But the wizards revolutionizing the eldritch academies seem to be more on this sort of level. I hear they've made some truly remarkable choices in terms of outsourcing all of their spellwork to the Ever-Whispering Void, such that it takes mere minutes for them to set up an entire defensive array. That's just the sort of innovative thinking you require.
Though it will grieve the court magician and I to leave your service, perhaps this is a sign that retirement is overdue. So I'll just... be moving further away from the big pile of gold... in the opulent, dome-shaped building with the crystal skylight... best wishes.
all you new fandom members need to QUIET DOWN oh my god you're going to get us KILLED. we're happy to have you but if you keep talking about BULLSHIT like PUBLISHING fanfic for MONEY, Anne Rice is going to come back from the dead to KILL US. looking at YOU, maurauders fans, heated rivalry fans, byler fans...out here giving out interviews to news channels SHUT UP. we're going to have to start setting off firecrackers to keep the rent down.
You are an unreliable narrator because your coping mechanisms for your deep-seated trauma forbid you from acknowledging the reality of the situation. I am an unreliable narrator because I sincerely have no idea what the fuck is going on.
Something I really struggle to get people to understand is that like. Sometimes there was no intentional homoerotic subtext, the author was just extremely misogynistic. Sometimes the author wasn't "secretly shipping" those two men, the author literally just hates women so much that they see them as being literally incapable of relationships with depth. Like this is kind of a big thing with misogyny actually. A lot of extremely misogynistic people truly believe that a man can only have meaningful and complex relationships with other men because they literally just think women are so inferior they only exist to birth children and clean the house. It's like when people say along the lines of "no one worships exclusively men quite like straight men do". It's just that phenomenon actually. That happens to be manifesting in a raging misogynist's writing. Writing a man character who literally only puts effort into his friendships with other men while completely ignoring his literal girlfriend or wife is actually an extremely straight thing to write. And that doesn't mean you can't ship those men or that there are no stories with actual intentional homoerotic subtext. I just think it's important to be able to recognize extreme misogyny in writing and acknowledge it without brushing it off and assuming good intentions when literally all evidence is screaming that this was a misogynistic writing choice and not a representing gay men choice.
The older i get the more i understand why some people become obsessed with privacy, not because they’re hiding something, but because being constantly perceived starts to feel spiritually exhausting.
Did you know that soda machines at restaurants and movie theaters spy on you? That most common new cars now record your sexual preferences and send it to the manufacturer (and also data about anyone who also gets in your car, walks by your car, and maybe happens to be within visual range of your car)? That grocery stores are trying to force customers to download an app to scan barcodes on shelves instead of putting up prices, so the app can scan the phone, decide how much that customer should be squeezed for, and adjust the price? That more and more innocent people are being sent to jail for crimes committed hundreds of miles away because an AI facial recognition algorithm spit their faces out and the cops didn't bother to do the most basic of checks?
I am not uptight about privacy because I'm hiding something. I'm uptight about it because the people who dismiss my right to privacy are dangerous to you and me and our families, personally, all the time.
And often, they are assholes, too.
The Trebond twins, long before and shortly before.
"That pairing would never be canon" and what of it? I'm only supposed to ship what the church tells me to or something?
And you may tell yourself, “this is not my beautiful circus”
And you may tell yourself, “these are not my beautiful monkeys”
do you have a hobby that's expensive as fuck
yes
no
all of them
absolutely 0!!!!
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