祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Janaina Medeiros
ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Claire Keane
#extradirty
hello vonnie
blake kathryn
DEAR READER
Sade Olutola
if i look back, i am lost
Keni
wallacepolsom
ellievsbear
cherry valley forever
we're not kids anymore.
will byers stan first human second
Mike Driver
seen from Japan
seen from Japan
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Palestinian Territories
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Singapore
seen from South Korea
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from Georgia
seen from Tunisia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Portugal
seen from New Zealand
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from United States
@slytherinpacecat
I think the biggest problem plaguing society today is that my favorite piece of media is the private dnd campaign I am currently in & there is no fandom for it, so I cannot be constantly consuming content about it. This is the greatest tragedy I can imagine. no i will not make a podcast.
Things the Fellowship has argued about
What name to call Aragorn
What name to call Gandalf
What to call their meals. Boromir thinks, if it is eaten at dinnertime, regardless of whether it is the first meal of the day or not, then it is dinner. Sam thinks it isn't proper to call the first meal of the day dinner. Aragorn suggests they combine the two words but now everyone is fighting over whether it should be called breakfast-dinnner or dinner-breakfast. The fight nearly becomes physical
Whether Legolas or Gimli is winning their daily argument with eachother
If hobbits are regular sized and everyone else is really big, or if everyone else is regular sized and hobbits are small
The same as above except with horses and ponies
If Gimli's beard is real or not. This one started as a joke between Merry and Pippin but then Legolas saw how mad it made Gimli and so continues to bring it up
Inter-hobbit fighting about whether it is called pot-ae-toes, pot-ah-toes, or taters
"Can Legolas really talk to trees, or is he just fucking with us?" Aragorn and Gandalf refuse to weigh in on this
Whether the Ent-draught caused Merry and Pippin to grow or if they just did that on their own. This fight is Pippin vs. Everyone Else
Whether the non-hobbits of the Fellowship would be Tooks, Brandybucks, or Bagginses. This argument is unintelligible to most of them, although Gandalf has the knowledge to be offended when Pippin suggests he would be a Took.
"What would happen if someone ate the ring?"
Fights over whether the elves, the dwarves, or the hobbits tell the story of the reclaiming of Erebor most accurately. Even though Gandalf was there, he just shrugs when anyone asks him
Which variety of pipeweed is the best kind. Merry threatened Gimli to a duel over this one
Who gets next watch
“The prince just fell in love with Cinderella because of her looks!”
Wrong. Okay, picture this–
So there’s the prince, okay? He’s like, smack dab in the center of the ballroom, and he is like, horrifically aware that this whole ball thing is a result of his dad falling into a panic about the royal lineage or whatever and he’s stuck listening to highborn girl after highborn girl, all lined up, introducing themselves like, “Oh yeah my family’s been a longtime supporter of the crown, and I think you’re cute, *cough* I’ve been told I have child-bearing hips *cough* Who said that? Anyway–” and Princey boy is just smiling through it, he has been the center of attention for entirely too long, he misses his emotional support horse, and is just internally like “Someone please kill me now.” And then… he sees her–This isn’t a love at first sight thing, this is a ‘what the hell is going on over there’ thing, because this girl has not gotten into the Debutante line for a solid 45 minutes.
She’s just at the hors d’oeuvres table going HAM on the prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and like, she’s polite about it, she’s happy to move aside for other people grabbing punch and canapes (and she’s really so sweet with the wait staff, it’s kind of cute because they’re like… definitely not used to being acknowledged) but it’s like, “Damn girl, did you not eat today?” and then the prince is kind of stuck with the uncomfortable thought of ‘how many girls starved themselves to fit into a corset for this.’ And then the Prince realizes he’s missed the past 4 Debutante introductions because he’s watching Mystery girl hork down crab rangoons. So he’s like, “Excuse me” and manages to break free from the never-ending parade of girls who will hop on his dick for status.
And as he’s approaching Mystery Girl, it’s kind of hitting him that something’s not quite natural about her. Not fake, but not quite real. But at the same time this whole evening’s been just a whole circus of people acting fake as hell, so like, someone seeming a little off doesn’t seem bad, necessarily. And he sidles up to her like, “Hi,” and she’s like, “Oh–hey, have you tried the tapenade?” and she points to one of the plates, and at this point, he could hit her with the “You don’t know who I am, do you?” deal or the “Very funny, I see your play” deal, but at this point it occurs to him that, no, he hasn’t had anything to eat throughout this whole damn ball, partially because of being stuck in the debutante parade, partially because of nerves, and there’s something so disarming about the question that he grabs a crostini and she still seems so food-focused that it doesn’t seem possible that this is a play. So they both grab little plates and ditch the party.
She pretty much clears her plate in under two minutes and then has half of his plate, he’s cool with it, mostly he’s just absolutely fascinated listening to her.
See here’s the thing about Cinderella:
1. She doesn’t know he’s the prince. Like yeah, he’s been at the center of the room, but she’s kind of spent half the party eagerly looking around everywhere she’s allowed to go (”Have you seen rose garden? Have you seen the solarium??” further confirmation that she doesn’t know who she’s talking to) and the other half stuffing her face with food.
2. She assumes she’s never going to see anyone here tonight again, and no one recognizes her, so she has no filter.
So she’s just talking about whatever with this guy. He seems cool. She talks about her friends, who are rats. She makes little outfits for them. Sometimes they bring her little gifts. She is already the coolest person the prince has ever met because of this. She pretty much offhandedly talks about whatever is fucked up about the kingdom that would take his advisors two hours of hemming and hawing and watering down to address. She just says it like it’s nothing, just funky little things she’s observed, and again, she’s not aware that he’s the prince, but it’s still pretty damn bold to bring up at a literal royal ball.
She… seems to have the majority of graces that lots of girls from Respectable Families™ have, but there’s something strange about it, something simultaneously broken and hardened, like the way you can see where ice has thawed and re-frozen. Also the way she talks about her family, and the way she avoids talking about her family– is raising several red flags, not in the “Oh this is another person trying to take advantage of me” sense, but in the “Oh fuck, something’s gone really wrong and you need help” sense and also lowkey a ‘damn is she even getting fed?’ sense. But he can’t say, ‘Hey, that’s not fucking normal for people to say that to you or treat you that way. We need to get you out of there,’ without sounding crazy himself, so for now, he’s just going to chill, make sure she’s comfortable, and keep enjoying the evening. She’s somehow befriended like 4 of the waitstaff so they’re willing to cover for them while they disappear for a little bit, and they get plenty of time to talk, but eventually it hits her that she hasn’t danced yet and she’s like “Come on! I bet we can make the prince jealous!” and he just bursts out laughing at that like “hell yeah, let’s make the prince jealous. He’s a real asshole.” Like clearly she’s having a good time, so who is he to make it weird? So they head back to the ballroom and they dance. And our girl, Mystery Girl, Cinderella, while they’re dancing, becomes acutely aware that everyone is staring. That doesn’t seem quite right. Like, yeah she’s hot, she knows she’s hot, but at least a good third of the party should still be focused on the prince, right? Where is that guy, anyway?
Oh.
Oh wait.
Oh shit.
And Princey Boy actually picks up on her realization and they whisper argue for like 3 minutes. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Now I feel like a goddamn idiot!” “I dunno it was nice being treated like a normal person” “Well me treating you like a normal person makes me a goddamn felon or something did you consider that?!” “Hey–Hey–it’s cool–you’re cool–I think you’re amazing, and if anyone says shit about you, I can shut it down.” “Well I don’t like that! That’s fucked up!” “I agree. It is fucked up, but I believe in you, and I think you should have a chance, and I’m here to back you up. I know power is fucked up right now. I know. But are you cool with working with me to change that?” And our girl Cindy pauses on that for a couple seconds, because.. she’s just spent hours with this guy and like.. she knows he’s a good guy, she knows he means well, so she’s like, “I don’t know how long I can actually work with you.” and the prince is like “Look, I know your home situation is complicated right now, but I really think we can–”
And then the bell starts ringing.
It’s midnight.
And then she takes off in a panic, and our prince just met the coolest person ever, and like, he’s pretty sure whatever situation they’re headed back to is fucked up, and all he’s got going to find her is a shoe. A shoe.
the only way this works for me is if he also has prosopagnosia, aka facial blindness. in any version of this story, it’s just ludicrous to think that he can’t even string together a physical description of her. but this was total gold. i want to see a cinderella who horks down crab rangoons and has no filter lol
Ah yeah prosopagnosia, a reasonable explanation, however that lends to the other plot hole that there were countless others at the ball who could have recognized our girl Cinderella, including her Stepmother and Stepsisters. If the evil Stepfam recognized her, it would be all over.
Thankfully the Fairy Godmother thought of something for that.
So picture Cindy, she’s in the garden under the hazel tree where her mother was buried, she’s just gotten the kickass dress, she’s doing the skirt twirlies, she’s checking herself out in the reflection of the garden fountain, and all of a sudden this horrible realization falls on her and she whirls over to look at her Fairy Godmother like, “WAIT. If my stepmother recognizes me, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”
And Fairy Godmother is just like, “Oh pffft kiddo don’t sweat it. There’s a memory charm stitched into the dress.”
“Memory charm?”
“Oh yeah. Fae standard. There’s already illusion spells on the dress so no one’s gonna recognize you, and like… once the dress and the carriage and everything disappear at midnight, pretty much the only space you’ll occupy in people’s brains is like… they’ll basically remember you as a cloud of white noise. A talking cloud of white noise–they’ll remember what you say, but not the sound of your voice.”
“I don’t know what white noise is.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Wait–” Cindy perks up, “Everything’s going to disappear at midnight?”
“Yep. Everything,” The fairy godmother is smacking her wand against her palm, trying to figure out how much juice is still in it.
And then this ripple passes over Cinderella’s face. “Even the slippers?”
“The slippers?” The fairy godmother glances up.
“I just…” Cinderella fidgets with her dress a little, “I really like them. They’re so pretty and there’s… I’ve never seen anything like them in my life. I wouldn’t sell them or anything, and I know It would be much harder to hide the dress so I figured I couldn’t keep it… but… I just hoped I might have something so I’d know this night wasn’t a dream. Just something to take out from time to time and look at…” She seems to catch herself and straighten up a little. “But I understand. You’ve already done so much, I should be thankful for–”
And Fairy Godmother is massaging her temples like “Urrrghhhh oh god you’re making the face–Okay. OKAY. I’m bending like 15 rules for this but…” she snaps her fingers and the slippers on Cinderella’s feel just a little heavier, “There you go. The shoes are physical and permanent. But hey–HEY–keep track of them. This means the memory and illusion charms don’t work on them. These are going to be the only recognizable things about you from this night. You got it?”
And Cindy nods.
“I mean it! After this it’s going to be months before I can muster up enough magic to turn into a starling murmuration and peck your stepfamily’s eyes out. So I can’t protect you before then.”
“…w-what about pecking out eyes–?”
“Okay! Ball time! Go kiddo, go! Go! Go! Get in the carriage! Go!”
This is the cutest thing!
oh jesus christ that’s adorable
we take stuffed animals very seriously in this house
hey y’all do you want to see a dragon that i drew
of course you do here he is
the European urge to walk
when you tell a girl her outfit is really cute and she does a little pose thing then smiles, reblog if u agree
When you tell a girl her outfit is really cute and she immediately tells you where she got it
When you tell a girl her outfit is cute and she shoves her hands in previously unseen holes and squees with excitement, “It has pockets!”
You know what's wild? I'm an adult. I can take the ingredients from my cupboard and make play-dough if I want. I can watch scary movies in a tent in my living room, if I want. I can paint my fingernails all different colors. I can save up and take a weekend course on pottery. I can buy a beginner's robotics kit. I can get some scrap at the thrift store down the road and teach myself circuitry. I can go on YouTube and fold an origami dragon. I can wear a cape and introduce myself as The Wizard. I can tie-dye all my underwear. Cut the sleeves off all my shirts. Make my jeans into jorts and paint fish all over them. I can become an expert on box turtle husbandry. Keep a tank full of beetles on my shelf. Raise tadpoles, dye my eyebrows blue, start a cowboy hat collection. I can eat grilled cheese and mango slices every single day until I'm sick of them. I can put my bed in my living room and turn my bedroom into an art gallery. I could start a blog about vintage crochet patterns, or start photographing the feral cats that live on my street. I could find a stranger outside, right now, and learn their whole life story. I could learn to mix drinks. Become a bartender. Find a job on a travelling cruise ship. I could drop everything, right now, sell everything I own, and assume a new identity in St. Petersburg. I could learn ASL. Start baking. Stack a domino tower up to my ceiling and then knock it over without taking any pictures to remember it. I could draw a slug in a bowler hat. Eat nothing but orange food for a year. I could sit in the dark for hours with a bed sheet over my head, waiting for the sun to rise like a ghost. I could teach myself card tricks and become a street magician. I could invent a new instrument, a new hard candy, a table that comes down from the ceiling instead of up from the floor. I could cover my ceiling in plastic flowers. I could catch a seagull and set it loose in my house. Open my cupboards and smash all the glasses I don't like using on the floor. I could set my radio to a French 80's revival frequency and leave it there. I could start burying coins in my yard, make a papier-mâché bust of the late Queen Victoria. I could set it on fire. I could melt old nickels with a blowtorch. Swallow spaghetti through my nose. Open my front door, go out for a walk, and never come back. Let my bills and possessions and responsibilities rot away until it's all gone, like a bloated deer on the side of the highway, nothing left but bones, the memory of someone who was there once but isn't anymore.
I could go diving. Build a shelf. Carve fruit shapes out of bricks and driftwood. Sing a song that goes on for so long that I forget the first words by the time the last verse comes out. Suppose I started specifically saying stuff starting softly, snakelike? Can you imagine? Can you imagine yourself doing any of these things? What's stopping you? Is it a choice, or a trap? Are you caged? Caged by who? Someone else? Yourself? You could open that cage. Open that door, tear it apart like paper and cobwebs. It's not real. You built it in your head. Maybe you had help- maybe someone bigger and stronger and far more frightening laid the foundation, but they're gone now. What will you do? Will you choose nothing? To choose nothing is to make a choice. To look at all of creation, infinite possibility, and say "no". What a powerful choice. All your choices are powerful. You Are Like God, and if I were a devil I would hate you too
I refuse to believe this did not happen in canon
Aang consistently forgetting he's the most powerful human alive will never not be funny to me
turns out the overdue project I've been putting off for days is actually pretty easy and i should've done it earlier. i won't learn anything from this though
Another hilarious thing I feel we should talk about more is the fact that *film* Aragorn and Arwen break up right before Aragorn leaves Rivendell……. meaning that film!Aragorn spends most of the quest in an “oh my god my relationship of 50 years just ended what do I even do with myself????” depression haze.
It explains so much…..
Like. Externally Aragorn is on an epic quest to save Middle Earth, internally he’s crying on the couch in his sweatpants eating a tub of the Middle-Earth equivalent of Ben and Jerry’s
Legolas: Aragorn?
Aragorn: Arwen used to call me Aragorn…..
Legolas: Because it’s your fucking name
To be clear I actually love the film’s version of Aragorn/Arwen’s relationship, there’s a lot of Dramatic Potential/ angsty meta you could write on it, but–.
BUT
It’s also like– you think Aragorn has to put up with Legolas and Gimli’s annoying romance antics? Legolas and Gimli have to deal with Aragorn spending half the quest staring wistfully into the distance and sighing dramatically about What Can Never Be™…with how often he sings the Lay of Luthien, basically the Middle Earth equivalent of Adele’s Someone Like You….
Gimli: You haven’t washed your hair in MONTHS. We’re staging an intervention.
Aragorn (lying flat on the ground with his face in the dirt): aweralwkerjwae
Legolas: You’re only 87– you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You can find love a second time!
Aragorn: I did. Boromir died.
Legolas: Maybe three is your lucky number!
#for me film Legolas’ main character trait#is that he’s incapable of reading the room (tags via @overthinkinglotr)
Aragorn, any time he gets a moment to himself during the quest:
Gimli: This lovely Rhohirrim woman is clearly into you. She’s a fighter. You’re a fighter. She loves horses. You love horses (also you smell like one). Give her a chance!
Aragorn: *flashbacks to him and Arwen making out in Imladris while the elvish version of “when somebody loved me” plays in the background.
He literally did this. (and then imagined Arwen kissing him before getting woken up by his horse)
THE FIVE GREAT CULTIVATION SECTS ✶ PAST AND FUTURE
➵ inspired by @yibo-wang‘s creation | for the @creatorsevents gif style exchange event
are you living or are you just jumping from one obsession to the other to run away from yourself
what are you the coping mechanism police or something
They really should teach people how to cook in school.
This was physically painful to watch.
The Untamed but make it Free! Iwatobi Swim Club
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