school №89 by Yuri Hill

In that school is an Occultist practicing his ceiling spaghetti.

Heights of Frozen Characters - 

Notes and Process detailed below for those curious

A Few Notes -

Process -  Anna’s height is based off Oaken’s door which is measured in the first picture. A conversion rate between irl height and ‘verse height for this particular scene was created. 

For every inch measured with a ruler, the equivalent height in ‘verse is ~11.07” since it is assumed the door knob is 3 feet off the floor. I can then calculate Anna’s height as shown in the second photo. The gap between her head and the 6’ mark is approximately ~11.8 inches which is rounded then to 1 foot. 6-1 = 5’.

From there on, I created a conversion knowing Anna’s height by measuring her with a ruler, measuring the second character with a ruler I can apply the conversion and calculate their height. 

Ex. Elsa’s Height - 

Anna is 5’0” and measured 6.75” irl 6.75” irl = 60” frz        1”irl = 60”frz / 6.75”   1” irl = 8.8889” frz 

Elsa is measured to be 7.1875” irl - 7.1875” irl =     (7.1875 * 8.8889)” frz  =     63.889” frz  =      ~5’4”

This process is repeated for the rest of the characters in the above scenes.

Update - Oaken Update - Door Knob Height Update - Face Characters

@swan2swan

This is the best kind of nerding.

#he’s trying his best

This is the greatest treasure

- @jistring

PUT YOUR HAND IN THAT CRACK

AND YOU WONT GET IT BACK

WHEEEEN THE JAWS OPEN WIDE

AND THERE’S MORE JAWS INSIDE

WHEN IT SWIMS ON A REEF

AND HAS TWO SETS OF TEETH

WHEN IT JUMPS FROM THE MUCK

AND YOU SCREAM “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

I. I didn’t know I needed this.

@bunjywunjy

Must repost this unexpected art.

Santa is on strike due to global warming.  All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger.  Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.

“MUST BRING PRESENTS TO GOOD CHILDREN”

“Yes good”

“AND EAT THE BAD ONES”

“Wait no”

“EAT THEM”

“sasha no”

@burstofhope the Christmas tiger is watching

She is making a list

It is not easy with her paws but she is making it

shes almost here

Okay fine this is the ONE Christmas thing I will reblog before Thanksgiving BUT THAT’S IT

SASHA’S BACK ON MY DASH!

Y’all better behave, you have two months

You better watch out

You better watch out

You better watch out

Santa Claws is coming...

FOR YOU

A totally random sleeping beauty origin story in which the king and queen go to outside help to conceive. the gorgons, the creatures that lay in the belly of the swamps, slithering in the boiling pools, grant the couple’s request. they are loyal subjects, after all.

they promise that the child will live a long life. they promise that she will have great strength, will speak many tongues, and that she will strike awe into the hearts of men.

the queen thanks them, but before she can go they stop her with one last promise: if the child is not loved, then they must give her back.

I will love my child, say the two, and race off atop a shimmering steed.

9 months pass and the queen gives birth to a child, a healthy baby girl. but as time goes on, things start going wrong. servants start burning from the inside out, objects begin to vibrate from the toddler’s cries. the princess howls like a never-ending night, and nursemaids leave blind.

this cannot go on, the people hiss. this cannot go on.

and so the king and queen place her away from the castle’s inhabitants, far up in a tower. there she may scream and the world may tremble. there she may cry and no one’s ears will bleed. there she may live her life, among four stone walls. alone.

they send instructors up to the tower, one by one. a professor. a sorcerer. a hunter. a tamer. each attempt more desperate.

until there is nothing left to do. and so the princess is left in her tower, viewed as more monster than girl, fed by scraps through the door.

the parents do not fulfill their promise.

they do not give her back.

the princess, in filthy tatters and between clawed walls, pleads to be let out. i will be good, she promises tearfully. i will be good, just let me see them. I want to see them.

but she cannot control her nature, these sick powers she has been given. so she is left, often starved.

over time her pleas become bargains. i will not scream, if you let me see them once. i will not look upon you, if you let me touch them. i will not kill you, if you only let me be with them one last time.

none of these are accepted.

the princess turns fourteen. she grows strong. she speaks many tongues. and she strikes awe into the hearts of whoever she meets.

and why not? her eyes are yellow, like a deathly hawk. her hair hangs low, like the night. her teeth shine brightly, like the fang of a beast. her skin, though. oh, her skin. it glistens and glimmers and it is cold, like a reptile.

and her heart grows stunted. small. shattered.

they did not love her. no one did. they did not give her back, either.

months pass and crowds gather, swooping into the castle in courtly procession. the princess stares down in curiousity, but also longing. why are they here? what has happened below?

for the first time in her life, she escapes. i will not tell you how. perhaps because it is terrible and wicked. perhaps because it is clever. and perhaps because it is boring.

only you really know.

“the baby princess,” the people whisper to each other, while she clings to the shadows. “the baby princess.”

she is not a baby though, is she.

is. she.

and so the christening begins, golden plates and golden goblets set down. each numbered correctly, one for each guest.

the fairies of the glen. oh, how beautiful they are. their wings gleam like dewdrops in the morning, and their hair slips over their shoulders like the sun peeking through trees. they have made this possible, everyone murmurs. we must be thankful to the fairies, for they have given the rulers their daughter.

they all sit down to dine, and the princess–the eldest, the first born, the forgotten–stumbles in. her hair is lank. her eyes bleed tears. and her skin is cracking, old and scaly. oh, she is gruesome. the courtiers gag at the sight of her.

“leave, witch!” they order, but she pays them no heed. she walks up to the throne, and smiles at the king and queen.

“remember me?” she murmurs, teeth sharp but smile pleasant. she looks around. “every plate and every goblet. every person has a setting. except for me. now, why wasn’t I invited?”

“we don’t know who you are,” they reply fearfully.

“oh?”

the ground begins to shake. the guests scream. people howl, ears bleeding.

“you should not have struck another bargain so soon, you know,” she says, glancing at the fairies’ iridescent wings. “for everyone knows that gifts from the forest folk are not gifts. song, beauty, grace, wealth. are these all not useful to the fairies? and they will get their gifts back.” she stares at her parents. “they always get their children back.”

“please,” beg the king and queen, kneeling before their daughter. “please.”

the girl steps aside and walks to the cradle.

the guards surge forward.

“I WANT TO SEE HER!” screams the princess. the guards collapse in a shot of ash. “I want to see her,” she whispers brokenly.

the girl inside is like the dawn, blonde and gold and rosy. noisy, too.

“come now,” she soothes the child, smoothing back a curl. “do not cry. out of the two of us, i am the more ugly one,” she teases. “you are my family, you know. my own little sister, wound by the spring petals as i was forged by the burning pools. we are together, in that. they will not understand half-beings such as us. in fact,” she looks up at the court, cracked lips winding into a smile. “i, too, would like to give a gift to the child.”

her parents recoil, but it is too late.

far, far too late now.

“she will be yours until she finds my tower. on that day, she will learn what has been done, all your great sins against me. i will take her with me, show her the chaos you wrought into our veins by asking the forest for what was not theirs to give. thus, i give you this last promise: if she does not love me, i will give her back.”

and the princess strode from the castle, ripping the stone walls down. only the tower remained.

what happened next was simple, really. it was just the middle and the ending. every story has to have it, as you well know. but the middle and the ending are vague things. you will have to decide what happens.

after all, this was just the beginning.

!!!!!

This was the coolest version of Sleeping Beauty I’ve ever bloody read. OP, you deserve an entire novel, a film, and a whole crowd of dedicated fans for the imagination this sparks. Thank you for sharing your epic work.

What a fantastic piece. This deserves all the recognition. 🎖

[KO-FI @ ko-fi.com/sniperct]

OMG it's here. I must repost and read immediately.

It's my greatest disappointment. Jaina is more interesting and flat out *more important.* She absolutely deserves a high res scene.

God but like. The team of aces we just met is so…perfectly emblematic of James Ironwood’s specific failures as a leader. At least, if they are what they seemed like in their brief appearance this week.

Because it’s so, so well-meaning.

He doesn’t want a reign of terror! He so truly deeply wants to help people and keep Atlas safe. And from the general demeanor and friendly disposition of this team, I’m pretty sure they do too.

James got together what appears to be a crack team of his star pupils–not just the most talented but the best, a team of Ruby Roses. People who are friendly and genuine and idealistic, determined to do the right thing, who take the “protect and serve” thing seriously. People who coordinate well, who are smart and resourceful and have good judgement. People who would never abuse their power to hurt anyone! People who truly and genuinely want to help!

And he thinks that makes it okay.

They speak respectfully to the citizens, don’t make threats or wield weapons, use nonlethal takedowns and don’t swagger or gloat over prisoners. And James Ironwood is exactly the kind of person who would think that makes them anything but a special ops team operating within the city, with little to no accountability and the power to snatch people off the streets, no questions asked.

James Ironwood: I Tried To Do The Right Thing So Hard I Accidentally A Totalitarian Police State.

Also they’re called Ace-Ops. Aesops. Cautionary tales with a moral to be learned at the end.

And of course in the midst of all our Narnia-ing, one of them is a wolf faunus.

Hi, Maugrim.

Ah, good. Someone has seen the entire genre of superheroes for what it actually is. 😈

The Great Smudge - Table Cat

Via Lancelot Falk

I love these so damn much

I wish into everyone's life a Pooh and Piglet. Heaven knows I had mine when I felt like Eeyore.

@uninspired–poet  Hi look it you.

Fuck.

Don't worry, @uninspired--poet You're not alone in confusing the "cuddle" command for the "squeeze heart until it pops" command.

Also, 🎖

I love how humans have literally not changed throughout history like the graffiti from Pompeii has people from hundreds of years ago writing stuff like “Marcus is gay” “I fucked a girl here” “Julius your mum wishes she was with me” and leonardo da vinci’s assistants drew dicks in their notebooks just for the banter and mozart created a piece called “kiss my ass” so when people wish for ‘today’s generation’ to be like ‘how people used to’ then we’re already there buddy we’ve always been

The Hagia Sophia has inscriptions that were considered sacred for centuries until they were deciphered in the 70s to be Nordic runes saying “Halfdan wrote this”

my old english prof told us that theres a cave in Scandinavia where a viking gratified some runes like 14 feet up on the wall and when they finally reached it all it translated into was “this is very high”

Ancient Shitposting

Now on the History Channel

‘People have literally just always been people’ is genuinely my favorite fact about the world

“Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.” - Marcus Tullius Cicero, 106 BC - 43 BC

Common dog names have literally not changed in 3,000 years.

so not nearly as old but, this is a 12th century stave church in lom, norway (one of less than 40 left in the world)

it’s hard to see, but in the top left corner of this photo where the light comes in from the window, there’s a runic inscription

these photos show it more clearly, it’s easier to see in person. so of course one of the people i was travelling with asked what it said, and we were told it basically translates to:

“on this day, I climbed to this point, in the corner of the church”

people really have always been people

“It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.”

This is surprisingly soothing to my soul.

*tenderly caresses the enemies face* bro i fucking hate u bro

Valeera’s eyes are still fel-green instead of the new golden colour the belves got because of the Sunwell.  🤔 This is a brand new model, too. Oversight, or?

When you live to roll your enemies and smoke their ashes. Clearly Valeera has some leftover stock from the Legion's invasion.

Just so we're clear I would die for him.

*gives life for Supercorp Birb*

Earlier this summer, the zine as a whole decided to send copies of the zine and enamel pins to Katie, Melissa, and Nicole. Today, Mod Ayesha received this response.

The charities mentioned are The Trevor Project and the Transgender Law Center.

Supercorp is the most blessed fandom.

I’d like ao3 to know that I love and appreciate its service to the fan community

You can tell AO3 you appreciate us by sending a support ticket with whatever it is you’d like to say, using the link at the bottom of any page! We really enjoy getting nice support tickets, it makes for a pleasant change, and we anonymize them and share them with the rest of the organization, and store them for anyone in the org to view whenever they’re feeling down. 

Signed, a Support co-chair who likes having nice support tickets to read once in a while.

Hey guys reblog this version because that’s really cool!

aw this is rlly nice!

This!

AO3 won the 2019 Hugo Award for Best Related Work!

Here’s the speech given by Naomi Novik when the award was accepted:

Standing up, crying with joy, and toasting with a glass of chilled sparkling omega slick.

HOLY SHIT LADS WE WON A HUGO AWARD

**Thunderous applause**