randomlerson75

[randomlerson75]

hold on a fucking second. delaware is a state?? i thought it was a river? or is the river more important than the state? why don't i know this? (i should mention i don't like in america, i'm just confused)

there is delaware (state) and delaware (river) 

both are equally strange

the state is a tiny little cryptid thing

the rive is a monster that spans new york, pennsylvania, new jersey and delaware. also washington crossed it once and that was like kinda a big deal i guess. like crossing the rubicon in rome.

the state tries to me more important with its “im the first state!!!” bs (seriously its even on the fucking license plates) but we all know. its the river.

[randomlerson75]

the scene in ep 4 where inej maintains direct eye contact with kaz while taking off her knives and handing each of them to him is more intimate and telling than any sex scene 

[randomlerson75]

CANNOT stop thinking about the Josh fight. Over 100 guys named josh got together to fight with pool noodles and they all decided that the winner was a five year-old so tiny the Burger King crown was too big for him. And they lifted him into the air and cheered like he was Simba. Earth is a good place to be after all

[randomlerson75]

which boat currently stuck in the suez canal traffic are you?

[randomlerson75]

[randomlerson75]

the pandemic starting with tiger king and ending with the fall of the british monarchy is chaos magic

[randomlerson75]

Are Wednesdays just gonna be like this in 2021?

So far:

January 6th - The Capitol gets stormed during the Electoral College vote certification … and the idiot rioters liveblog it

January 13th - Trump gets impeached … for the 2nd time

January 20th - Biden is sworn in as the President … somehow the least interesting thing on this list

January 27th - A subreddit bankrupted a hedge fund by … buying all the GameStop stocks

What’s in store for us on February 3rd?

Tune in next week to find out!

[randomlerson75]

stockmarket tweet compilation

[randomlerson75]

things unchronicled #2

some Narnia Golden Age headcanons of the lighter-hearted sort

- during the course of their reign Peter managed to get himself enchanted by love spells no less than six times

- the first time it took the others ages to notice and even longer to break, because love spells are so complex in the casting. eventually they learned that Peter having an uncontrollable desire to write love poems was the tell-tale sign that he had been enchanted

- they also learned that there was an easy short-cut to breaking them. love charms generate obsessively positive thoughts about the beloved. if you can force a negative thought about them, you break the spell

- they developed a system where Susan or Edmund would manipulate the scheming ‘beloved’ into saying something mildly unpleasant in front of Peter, which would then ‘make Lucy cry’. anything that made Lucy cry was a Very Bad Thing to Peter, so this reliably did the trick for curing him

- he was always extremely embarrassed by these episodes and especially by the poetry-writing. this prompted Edmund to steal the poems for leverage before Peter could burn them but he was annoyed to discover that they were actually quite good  

- Peter and Lucy were not really cut out for state operations of the covert sort. Peter was a dreadful liar and Lucy was a very frank, upfront person. this left all that sort of thing to Susan and Edmund and both felt it was safer if there were some things their siblings did not know to preserve the secrecy of their operations

- this, however, meant that the other two sometimes wandered in on Susan and Edmund doing a variety of strange things that were never explained to them, including but not limited to painting themselves green, constructing a miniature model of Oreius and dressing up as one another

- when Cair Paravel held open tournaments, Susan would accompany the winner to the evening banquet. if the one who looked like he was going to win wasn’t a pleasant chap, whichever of her brothers was representing the royal house would cheerfully up their game, trounce their competitor and escort Susan to the banquet themselves

- the first time a tournament was held while both of the boys were away, past sore losers flocked to the castle, figuring this was their chance to get at Susan. all of them were soundly beaten by a diminutive knight with a closed helmet fighting under the Narnian royal standard

- that evening, the ranks of losers stared, disbelieving, as sixteen-year-old Queen Lucy sailed into the banqueting hall smugly with Susan on her arm  

things unchronicled 1    

things unchronicled 3

things unchronicled 4

[randomlerson75]

A SAVAGE PLACE

because I just re-read Prince Caspian and remembered how completely different it is to the movie, and because it says Aslan is good but not safe and I think so is Narnia and, as they become part of the fabric of it, so are the Pevensies

“You may find Narnia a more savage place than you remember.”

Trumpkin has never heard a silence so loud as this that follows his warning. The children glance at each other, crowding the air with a language he isn’t hearing. His skin prickles with it. He turns away from them, drawing his knife to begin skinning the wild bear.

Only a moment later, the smaller, darker boy is drawing his own knife and dropping to his knees. Trumpkin looks at him sidelong, uncertain.

“I’m a fair butcher,” King Edmund tells him mildly, and he plunges his arms in up to the elbows.

~

This is the story Trumpkin knows.

That once, Narnia was held in the grip of a terrible Winter brought upon it by a tyrant Witch, that four children were called by Aslan the Great Lion out of their own land to cast her down, and when they had done so the Lion crowned them himself at the shining castle of Cair Paravel, where the ruins now lie on the sea. That they governed so wisely and well that the folk of Narnia knew nothing of evil or hardship. That all was joy, when the trees danced and the animals spoke.

That the first of them held with equal steadiness the sceptre and the sword, that to him was given the crown above crowns, that every sovereign before or since stood but palely in the shadow of his glory. That the second of them surpassed all other beauties, that she was soft of hand and soft of heart. That the third of them had learned such wisdom on the path of darkness that his counsel was worth more than rubies, and the tongue in his mouth was as silver as his crown. That the fourth of them was the darling of the land, that laughter and lightness were her constant companions, that to see her smile was to be blessed.

In front of him now, the fourth is drying her eyes with dirty sleeves, and the third curses as he picks blood from under his fingernails, and the second scowls, tugging at her long hair, all straggly with salty air and sweat, and the first of them is building a thin fire with trembling hands, silent.

~

“Don’t say much, eh, that brother of yours?”

He is walking alongside Queen Lucy the Valiant, who is all of nine years old, wearing a grin and a dagger. They are following the tall one, whose steps are sure and make no sound.

“Well, of course not. He has to be careful what he says.”

“Don’t we all?”

He is chuckling, but she isn’t. Her face is young and pale and flecked with sunlight that shifts like a glamour.  There are moments when her teeth look too big for her mouth, when her eyes sit strangely, as though she has stolen them from another. Sometimes she is difficult to look at.

“Not like Peter does. When he speaks…”

Smiling, she spreads her arms wide, embracing the still trees and sleeping waters, the sky above them and the earth below.

“Narnia listens.”

They trudge on, and Trumpkin watches King Peter watching the clouds. He has never been so far as Narnia’s northern border, where the sky lies heavy and indomitable on the bleak, open land. He does not know what it would mean to be crowned for the blue mountains and distant thunder of the cold, still North; the terrible immensity of it. The carvings on the walls of Aslan’s How are flat and dead, fading under the dust of uncountable years. They do not show these things, and they do not show the High King’s lion-gold hair or his clear, calm predator’s eyes, or how at dusk in enemy lands it was once whispered that behind closed lips, his teeth were fangs and his breath smelled of iron.

The little girl skips ahead to catch her brother’s hand. The trees shiver around them, remembering the rhythm of her steps on the earth, the way she’d danced, mad and barefoot, her shrieking laughter in the night. The echo of it has hung in their leaves for a thousand years. Trumpkin sees them stirring, shakes his head, cannot help wondering if her voice, too, is threaded with this deep magic. It’s here in the very presence of these four living ghosts, in their fingertips and their footprints and the corners of their eyes. And though Trumpkin has never been a believer until now, he has heard enough to know that magic is not always sweet.

Behind him, the older girl is humming a tune that Trumpkin doesn’t quite recognise, though it catches in his ears like something familiar. There are no histories written of Queen Susan and the sly sirens, of how she would step from the sea like a drowned woman with her clinging hair, her deep-hued lips, to sing the music she had learned. The histories that remain crown her to the rich south, where the crops grow and the flowers open their delicate hearts for the indifferent eyes of the sun. As Trumpkin turns to look, pulled by that hypnotic song, she snaps a bloom from a bush of wild roses to slide into her hair.

She has not seen him glancing back, but the other one, the younger boy, has. Under his dark eyes, Trumpkin feels as pinned as if he were at the point of a dagger. Though they are far from the wild woods of the west, this is still King Edmund’s realm: the forest with all its shadows and its green secrets, laid bare when winter’s frozen hands come to strip them away. But now it is high summer and the leaves are thick, cloaking the woods in their mystery, and Trumpkin cannot see what is behind the boy-king’s sharp smile.

~

Time is long and wearing, and this is the story the Old Narnians have forgotten.

That Susan’s soft fingers had stung under the tautness of her bowstring, the first time she’d pulled it back to kill. That Peter had wept beside the corpse of the wolf. That Aslan’s maw had been red and sticky, dripping thick ropes of blood, and that the Witch had been beautiful, in her cold way.

~

“I have been told – I have learned about the Golden Age,” Caspian tells them later, shaky and fervent. “The legend. Of what Narnia was when you ruled it. It must seem like a sparse, savage place, compared with the one you knew.”

They watch him silently. Peter, whose eyes are bright and blank as a clear sky, and Susan with her full, unsmiling lips are already their own statues. After a moment, Edmund’s harsh laughter fills the darkness, and Lucy pinches him with fingers as sharp as any faery’s.

That night, Caspian puts the Horn where he cannot see it before he tries to sleep.  

~

others in this series:

PYRE -  in which Caspian meets the four under the auspices of the wine god RIPTIDES - in which Eustace sees clearly mrs pevensie on her children, autumn 1940

[randomlerson75]

i can’t stop thinking about what happened right after the pevensies were crowned, knowing literally nothing about narnia or how to be kings and queens, so here are a bunch of headcanons

THE FIRST YEAR

After Aslan departs, the merriment at Cair Paravel goes on for three days. There is dancing and feasting, and the new kings and queens sleep wherever they fall, then awake and join in again. When they rise at noon on the third day, the castle is emptier and quieter than before, and there is work to be done.

The first thing they realise is that there is no furniture in Cair Paravel. There’s the odd stone bench, and all the glorious carvings and statues, and the thrones of course, but not a single scrap of wood. Every last splinter was stripped out during the Great Winter and burnt for fuel. They sleep in the simple beds from Aslan’s camp and eat sitting on the floor with their subjects, and it feels rather like camping in their own castle, like another adventure.

These early days are not like the coronation with all its pomp and splendour. Susan folds all their wine-stained finery into a pile and they do not wear clothes so rich as that again for a long time. Instead they wear practical leather and linen and their lessons are not in statecraft, but in combat, butchery, agriculture. Food is the thought in everyone’s minds after the Winter scarcity, with the land now so green and giving. And Peter’s shoulders grow broad and strong at the plough, and Susan finds the oldest of the wood-people and coaxes them out to the fields to teach those born in the Winter how to sow, and Edmund proves himself something of a genius with mechanical solutions, and Lucy delights in learning all the types of seeds and nurturing them under the sun. And before long they all four are lean and tanned and calloused at the palm with field work. 

Summer brings news that a knot of remaining Fell Beasts has grown in the West, gathering their strength through the spring. Peter and Edmund, both pale and determined, don their armour again and ride out with a band of soldiers. In the weeks they are gone the first foreign delegation arrives: a group of Archenlandish nobles who approach the castle to present themselves before the thrones of Aslan’s chosen sovereigns, only to be led out into the fields away from the castle to a girl of eight with two simple braids, wearing leggings and boots, carrying out water. She drops her buckets with a gappy grin and sticks out her dirty hand as she is proudly announced as ‘Queen Lucy the Valiant’, and it is the start of a long and prosperous friendship.

The boys return from their bloody sweep through the west as the leaves start to fall, both taller and harder-faced. The harvest brings a bustle of trade, but after that the land goes hushed and fearful. With the cold comes the first of the mutterings that the summer may only have been a brief respite brought by Aslan; without him, what certainty is there that winter will lift again? And the cold starts to sink its teeth in.

It has been so long since the Narnians have seen a natural winter that they have forgotten that even without enchantment it is hard and cold. Edmund grows quiet and sleepless when the snow comes, and between this and Lucy’s night-time chills, Peter and Susan move all four of them into Peter’s room, which is small and easily warmed by its cavernous fireplace. It’s better to burn one fire than four and they abandon their individual wooden beds for a large heap of furs and blankets, taking heat from each other as the Animals do.

Edmund and Lucy hardly leave the castle all that winter. Lucy is too small to be trudging through the deep snows and Peter and Susan are keen to keep Edmund out of the cold, so when their people need aid, Peter straps his sword to his back and Susan straps her quiver to hers, and they venture out together into the merciless winter, leaving Edmund in charge of the castle and of Lucy for days and occasionally weeks at a time. It’s a clear and complete signal of trust which quiets some unfriendly whispers, and such important duties help keep him from darker thoughts of the previous winter.      

No one is keen to waste precious food in feasting at Christmas in case the Winter truly has returned, but Father Christmas comes by the castle with plenty, so the gates of Cair Paravel are opened and there is a little cheer. And then all Narnia waits with bated breath to see if the snow will melt.

But eventually dawn starts to come a little earlier and the earth starts to thaw, and when the coming of the spring cannot be denied, the Narnians whisk their young sovereigns out into the meadows and crown them all over again with fresh flowers, and the second spring feels almost as much a victory as the first.

[randomlerson75]

Times Ethan asks questions or does things that make Mark and Amy go “…whaT?”

[randomlerson75]

- a.a. milne

rest in peace unus annus. memento mori.

[randomlerson75]

My girl Enola DEMOLISHED Tewksbury with “you’re a man when I tell you you’re a man” and he just TOOK IT with that charming little smile of his. This, my friend, is healthy masculinity.

[randomlerson75]

Mycroft: *about duke of Tewkesbury* then you should marry her off to him. Maybe it will calm them both down a bit. 

Enola and the Duke as a married couple: 

-live in London 

-help Sherlock solve crimes

-Enola as the new Duchess of Tewkesbury surprises everyone when she traipses into important social functions having just chased some ruffian with dirt smudged on her face and her petticoats like five inches deep in mud 

-Sherlock at first is pretty sure the Duke is a “useless boy” as Enola told him but then one time his knowledge of flowers saves him from being poisoned so he’s like, okay, not so useless, I get it 

-Mycroft turns fifteen shades of purple when he finds out the Duke does most of the cooking and cleaning since Enola is usually too busy solving cases. But once, Enola tried cooking for everyone and mixed the salt and sugar up so no one lets her in the kitchen anymore. He hires them a maid and cook as a wedding present and to keep the duke from “embarrassment” as he says despite the Duke insisting he LIKES cooking and cleaning. 

-Whenever anyone says “Holmes” solved another case no one knows if it is Enola or Sherlock anymore, as she still uses her old surname undercover to be less ostentatious 

-society women who come to call on Enola often at first don’t like her but then their jewelry goes missing or some strange mishap and when their husbands won’t hire anyone, they turn to Enola. She builds connections through her mysteries and friendships and people slowly begin to respect her. 

-men come to their home thinking the Duke of Tewkesbury is the one related to Sherlock, and are often disappointed when they find out its this skinny scrap of a girl who is his wife but then when she solves the case brag about her to their friends about having used Londons most notorious Lady Detective. The Duke often gets irritated with this assumption and rants for ages about his wife being the best detective in London. 

-the first time she and the duke go to a ball, they get distracted by someone’s arboretum where the duke spends the whole night naming flowers and Enola steals some out for his own collection. Mycroft is mildly scandalized as he hears rumors of them spending the evening “stealing flowers all evening at the ball” which he thinks is a euphemism and  everyone else believes the young married couple snuck off to be intimate and lectures them about propriety and flowers not being taken but, in reality, the two were just honestly stealing flowers for the Dukes collection. 

-one time, Enola chases a criminal through the streets of London and the halls of parliament and passes her husband there. She stops to kiss him on the cheek briefly, and is like, “what’s for dinner” and he’s all, “I had the cook put on a pot roast” then she quickly goes back to chasing the ruffian and the duke, who is with one of his colleagues finds himself being stared at wildly, and he just grins and says, “That’s my wife.” 

In short, marriage does NOT calm them down. Not a bit. And its Mycroft’s worst nightmare. 

[randomlerson75]

Why you should watch Enola Holmes (2020)

- female teenage protagonist (Enola) is 16, played by actual 16yr old Millie Bobby Brown instead of an adult woman

- love interest (Tewkesbury) is played by 17yr old Lewis Partridge and not a man that’s way older than Millie

- Enola is not sexualized once in the entire movie

- Enola is not made to look older than 16

- period movie that isn’t depressing or super dark

- criticisms on society that are very valid today

- Tewkesbury cries on screen (let men show their feelings 2020)

- Enola is not a damsel in distress, in fact she’s the one that goes out of her way to save Tewkesbury

- Enola is 90% of the time wearing an outfit that is comfortable on her and allows her to move freely, the only times she doesn’t are when she’s undercover

- a genuinly fun story that’s easy to follow, appropriate for kids and not boring to adults

- no love at first sight bullshit, it takes Enola ages before she realizes her feelings and love is not her main motivation

- Mycroft is an absolute abysmal human being and the movie never tries to sympathise with him. He’s just straight an asshole and isn’t given a redemption or sympathy

- movie is written and produced by women

[randomlerson75]

Enola was keeping it together and the second someone raises her voice she cries. God, what a mood.