my favorite chaotic scene in atla has to be the one where Zuko and Aang get glued stuck in the sun warrior ruins. just Aang yelling bloody murder bc he's never been in a situation like this without someone eventually helping him out, Zuko telling him to be fucking quiet bc he's used to being left to his own devices, Aang asking what they should do instead and Zuko proposing to have an existential crisis together. absolute gold i'm telling you
Putting her in charge of organizing the studio from now on good luck milkshake
You are granted a time machine and the ability to prevent one birth (or commit a murder up to you), don't worry about the butterfly effect, we want the butterfly effect that's part of the point. Your actions will prevent them from ever rising to prominence. No he's not here, because it'd be too much of a sweep, pick your second choice if you're wondering where he is
OP
OP I need you to explain to me what you think Archduke Franz Ferdinand did.
If I get to commit a murder I want to shoot Archduke Franz Ferdinand outside a cafe in 1914.
Pappappappappap.
Turn left. Up three slats. Forward for a bit. Hang a right.
Ancient drywall dust speckled the ground at his paws, the wood old and dry and at risk for splintering. It was an absolute playground.
The rat did not know this, but the house had been abandoned for years. On the other side of the wall sat dusty furniture and heavily graffitied wallpaper, empty glass bottles, and general litter. The town had debated knocking it over, putting up a parking lot, but decided against it.
There wasn’t even a shopping mall. What would we need the lot for?
So there the house remained. Abandoned and unloved by humans. The teens who hid in the leaf-filled kitchen to smoke after school did not love the house, with its 3 floors and creaky stairs. The college students who appeared each Thanksgiving night to drink and reminisce, pretending they were anything other than babies in the world did not love the house’s study, home to an elderly desk that no one cared enough to look in. The rats and birds and insects and squirrels did not see the need for the money, or the books, or the gold watch that still, despite it all, ticked.
Pappappappappap.
His little feet pounded ever forward, his little round body squeezing effortlessly upwards between wooden planks.
The little rat, with his round body and busy feet, loved the house. He did not care about the once-expensive looking rugs, or the elegant, but stained, crown molding, and he did not care about the ornate door knobs. The little rat, in no particular order, loved these things about the house:
He loved the still-somewhat-silver silverware that sat in a kitchen drawer for the noise it made when he scurried over them (knives make for a particularly pleasant noise, with their flat edges that slide off of one another).
He loved the bookshelves that lined the walls of most of the rooms, because they made for excellent perches to sit on to survey the floor (not to mention that if one of the books could be knocked over, a page could be taken for a nest with incredible ease).
He loved the plushies left behind in one of the smaller upstairs rooms. There was one that looked like him! Although this was not his favorite (that honor belonged to a little brown bear, who lay on his back, leaving his stomach open for the most wonderful of naps), it pleased him. A mirror had been knocked off the bathroom cabinet and shattered, its shards sparkling on the floor. The little rat tended to avoid that room, knowing simply that the little silver points were bad news, and not needing more information than that. However, he had not come to this conclusion without first exploring the room, for the initial shattering had mimicked the pleasant sounds of the silverware, but times a thousand. He was intrigued by the other little round-bodied rat who looked back at him from one of the shards. He hoped he was not lonely in there.
But the little rat did not love the house for what it contained. Its contents were beneficial and made life interesting and wonderful, but he would have loved the house if it were vacant and cold and bare and boring. The little rat loved the house because it was his home, and because his home loved him.
His home protected him from the rain and the snow and the cold and the heat, his home kept him entertained and safe and happy. He needed nothing and wanted for less.
Pappappappappappap.
He wanted to do something nice for his home. But what did he have to offer? He couldn’t fix the leaky roof, or replace a cracked tile, couldn’t put a chair back upright or even change a lightbulb.
Ultimately, he decided the best way he could show his love would simply be to live in his home. His home would understand his limitations, while still seeing that the little rat stayed because he wanted to, and because staying was important to him.
He climbed higher and higher, ascending more and more wooden slats and boards, scurrying from opening to opening, until finally: a break in the wall.
Drywall parted, and the little rat felt himself becoming giddy. He inched forward, his little nose twitching furiously, his little black eyes boggling.
He panted slightly, having climbed all the way up to the second floor. A journey that would take a human seconds had taken him several minutes. He looked out from his little hole in the drywall to see the ancient chandelier at eye level. If he wanted, he could climb all the way to the very top, and look down onto the chandelier. He’d done this several times, and would, inevitably, do it again.
But there was something magical to being eye level with the sparkly glass. He would say nature played a cruel joke on him, leading him to his home and cursing him with his blurred vision, stopping him from admiring the intricate details of the crystal before him, but the simple problem with this is that he didn’t know any better, didn’t know there was a world outside of the outlines and colors he saw. He loved his home for its outlines and colors, for the way that the chandelier caught the light at certain hours of the day. He loved the sparkle of the rainbow that was cast about the entryway.
Nature was not cruel, nature did not punish him or play jokes. It loved him. It loved him the way he loved his home, it protected him and marveled at him and delighted in his joy.
He sat there, squeaking with great contentment as the sun went down and its rays caught the glass, bathing him and the home he loved in color.
hell yea
Melkor gonna start a night full of a rock-n-roll
Just out feeding the dinos:)
tiger tale toys 🐀🐁
PAPERWORK
can we talk about how much queer and trans joy was this season? maggie and nina. they/them muriel, saraquel, beelzebub, even GOD. "you're a good lad" "im not actually, either". that one shopkeeper and his non binary spouse, played by a non binary actor. beelzebub and gabriel. shax, nina and maggie all thinking azi and crowley were together. also yes i'm gonna mention: crowley and aziraphale's kiss. it's just, i get that everyone's hurt and so am i but can we please focus on how beautiful this season was to us? we got so much and i'm so happy, despite the ending.
from a certain pov it was really gentle and romantic wasnt it
loving this new tiktok trend of 14 year olds thinking 1998 was actually the 1800s
i'm a simple girl: i see sunlight on the water, i find god
i hear the laugh of someone i love, i find god. the setting sun fills my room, i find god. i eat fresh strawberries off the vine, i find god. someone rests their head on my shoulder, i find god.
putting up “HELL IS FAKE” billboards in ohio to start a dialogue
putting up “OHIO IS HELL” billboards in ohio to continue the dialogue
putting up ‘OHIO IS OTHER PEOPLE’ billboards in ohio to confuse the dialogue
putting up ‘OHIO IS FAKE’ billboards in Ohio, just for shits and giggles
Putting up ‘WELCOME TO PENNSYLVANIA’ billboards in Ohio just to see what happens
