sometimes i’ll see ppl in their early 20’s completely fucking covered in tattoos and im like damn what if one day youre 33 and u want a new tattoo but u cant get one cuz u done run out of skin
I thought this was going to be really negative but Im glad with its turnout
This is totally a thing I worry about though. Like I want script fucking everywhere bro, but what if I find a really great quote or a fantastic poem is written twenty years from now and I don’t have space?
I think people who don’t menstruate overall just don’t understand that we cannot stop the blood. If there’s nothing to collect it, it’s going everywhere. Most people can hold a shit, can hold a piss, and can hold back sex, until it’s convenient. When we bleed there is just no stopping it. It doesn’t matter if there’s nothing to catch the blood, it will keep coming.
That’s why this free-tampon discussion is over your heads. You don’t get it. You can compare it to toilet paper or condoms all you want but most of us have control over those things. When we bleed, we keep bleeding until it’s done. There’s no clenching or muscle training that will keep us from bleeding everywhere.
So stop talking about what you don’t understand. If condoms can be free, so can tampons.
We just bought a cute sofa from an antique shop, while being very obviously a couple and looking like a butch/femme salt and pepper shaker set, and the shop owner wanted to know how long we’d been, and I quote, “hanging out.”
I’ll still laughing at this the next morning.
*gets down on one knee in front of gal pal* *takes out ring* Will you hang out with me?
There was one time I was out shoe shopping with my partner and I was debating buying these cute pastel green shoes. The saleswoman was like “well why don’t we ask your friend here?” I said “oh actually this is my partner.” The woman stared at us blank faced for a few awkward seconds before forcibly smiling and saying, “partner in crime?”
JAW….DROP….
In a store once with a girl I used to date, browsing through all these different mattresses. One of the sales ladies came over and talked about all the beds with us for quite some time while we told her what we were looking for. It was painfully obvious we were a couple, like literally holding hands and calling each cute pet names out loud. Finally the sales lady laughs nervously and says “sooo.. wow, what kind of roommate setup is that that forces you two to have to share a bed!?” I just sort of stared at her for second at a complete loss and said “… the dating kind…”
Marvel:
to relate to female audience, we will have Black Widow involved in a romance with a team member
Every Girl I've Ever Heard:
I want to see Natasha Romanoff crush a man's skull with her thighs without a single hair falling out of place, and then I want her to terrorize her teammates with bad jokes and pranks
Marvel:
to relate to the female audience we will have Black Window involved in a romance WITH ANOTHER TEAM MEMBER
If the Winter Soldier was responsible for the Kennedy assassination and Magneto tried to STOP the Kennedy assassination then that must mean somehow Magneto lost a fight to a guy wITH AN ENTirE ARm MADE OF METAL
Marvel writers sweat intensely
Canonically in the comic, Magneto has lost to the X-Men. When they had neither Jean Grey nor Professor X (psychics) with them, and both Wolverine (metal skeleton and claws) and Colossus (metal everything) with them. You don’t get more impaired than that against Magneto. I’m sure HYDRA could have found a way.
Steve, Bucky, and Thor chilling after a battle, sharing some of Thor’s special brew because they’re the only ones who can handle it.
Thor setting the hammer on a table and grinning at Steve, Care for another try?
Steve shrugging good-naturedly and taking hold of the handle. Sure, why not.
Thor watching nervously while pretending not to be nervous.
Steve budging the hammer.
Thor LOLing.
It would seem that you are still simply unworthy, Captain.
Bucky snorting, tossing back the rest of his drink, and stepping up next to Steve. Are you kidding me? Move aside, Rogers.
Bucky grabbing the handle with his metal arm and pulling and pulling and glaring and looking to Steve.
Give me a hand.
That’s not how it works, Buck.
Just get over here, ya punk.
Steve grabbing hold just above Bucky’s clenched fist.
Thor LOLing in the background.
Bucky and Steve getting ready, Steve beginning with On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3–
And the hammer lifts off the table so easily that the two stumble back, shocked, hands still clasped one above the other.
Silence.
Bucky and Steve hold the hammer in the air and look at Thor in unison.
Thor stares wide-eyed.
Well, he begins after a few more moments, … if there are no pictures, it never happened.
Bucky yelling for Nat or Sam to get their butts in the room to take a photo before Thor can call the hammer back to him and growling Don’t let go Steve for fuck’s sake DON’T LET GO–
ACCEPTED SO HARD.
NEITHER of them thinks that they are worthy, but they both believe that the other is so their faith in one another balances it out
If you wake up one morning and you can’t move anything but your eyes DONT OPEN UR EYES
more info!;
- its called sleep paralysis
- you will not be able to move or talk
- you will feel like there’s someone in the room with you
- you may hallucinate
- it is HORRIBLE
wiggle your tongue, it wakes you up. i get them a lot so yea
THHHAAAANNNKKKK YOUUUU
it is also said that wiggling your toes and moving your fingers can help regain your full mobility faster
also, when OP says “don’t open your eyes” it is serious, let me explain:
while asleep, your breathing is very different than while you’re awake, you are consuming way less energy, so you breathe less.
in sleep paralisys, the part of your brain that controls your conciousness and your senses will be awake, but the part that controls your body and lets you move will not.
with this decreased breathing rate, your concious part of the brain will believe you are having difficulty breathing because something is preventing you from, which can lead to a hallucination, which will probably show something you are very afraid of sitting on your chest or strangling you.
if this ever happens to you, wiggle your tongue, your toes, and your fingers, this will help you wake up, but even if it is the middle of the night you should not try an go back to sleep, because it could happen again.
to prevent them you can try sleepinng on your side and preventing having your arms above your head while falling asleep.
sleep paralisys is very scary, please stay safe, and when it all pases remember that it is not real, and that you’re ok.
THIS IS A MUST READ
I taught myself to wiggle my fingers… I always remember right before I panic
Remember in 1993 when Jurassic Park was like…the end all, be all of special effects?
not gonna lie that still looks intimately real
I’m still somewhat convinced that someone sold their soul to create the special effects in Jurassic Park because that shit is over 20 years old and it still really, really holds up, better than the stuff in a lot of current movies, even.
Fucking witchcraft, man.
fucking look at this shit though
Literally see this post flying around with a few different responses added to the bottom each time so I’ll say it for this one myself:
THEY ACTUALLY BUILT A GIANT MASSIVELY DETAILED FUCKING ANIMATRONIC T-REX FOR ALL OF THIS THAT’S WHY THE EFFECTS ARE SO GOOD. CAUSE IT AIN’T CGI. AND IT AIN’T GUY IN A COSTUME. IT’S A BIG FUCKING ROBOT DINOSAUR. AND EVERY PART IS DESIGNED TO MOVE. IT COST LIKE HALF THE BUDGET OF THE FILM.
amazing
And they had the film it in small increments, especially in the outdoor scenes, because the rain fall kept soaking into the ‘skin’ of the rex and would slow down and mess up its movements. So they would stop filming and have a crew out there drying off this massive, fake dinosaur, and then they’d start filming again until it was too wet. Repeat until the end of the scene.
They used animatronics and detailed costumes for most if not all of the dinosaurs in the first movie.
The triceratops for instance, was also animatronic.
One of my favorite anecdotes I’ve read on tumblr is how the t-rex robot from Jurassic park would malfunction while it was drying out. How did it malfunction, you might wonder?
Motherfucker randomly started moving.
So apparently if you were on the jp set you would sometimes hear people screaming bloody murder even though they were all well aware that it was a giant animatronic puppet and wouldn’t actually, you know, eat them.
I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom, legs tied together, they change slowly until they can breathe, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed.
someone please write this
“Please, don’t do this!” her voice comes out hoarse, cracked. The men leer at her, their gazes cold.
“Storm is comin’ now” the captain says. He is the worst, because in his eyes there is regret. Compassion. Pity. He doesn’t want to do it. Not like the others do. But that won’t stop him.
“Told your father a ship is no place for a girl,” he says. “Told ‘im to find another vessel, told ‘im to just keep you home, if e’ had ta. But did he listen? If you want someone to blame, miss, blame him. Tha ocean is cold, cold and cruel. And she ain’t gonna let us through this without payment, without a cost.”
The wind blows his gray hair back from his face, and he nods at one of the crewman - the one who’s eyes always linger on her for too long - and he steps forward and jabs Alice in the side with a paddle from one of the rowboats. She cries out, even though she doesn’t want to, even though she wants to scream instead, scream and curse the way a lady of her standing is never meant to do. She wants to curse them all to a watery grave and watch as they suffer.
She tries to move, tries to run past them, to break the rope binding her legs at the ankles through sheer power of will. She fails.
The crewman jabs at her again, and she spits at him. The glob of saliva hits him on the face, spittle clinging to his sun-tanned skin. His crewmates laugh.
Alice realizes her mistake too late.
His eyes darken, he steps forward - and he strikes her across the face with the paddle so hard she’s twisted around, so hard she sees black and careens of the gangplank and plummets to the dark, thrashing water below.
The captain was right: the sea is cold. Colder than any hell she’s ever imagined. Colder than the time she fell face first into a deep puddle on the street in the dead of winter. She feels the ice flood her mouth, fill her lungs, turn every vein and bone bitter blue with frost. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move.
The water tosses her against the hull of the ship and she feels her skull crack against the worn wood. The world fades, and she begins to die…
She remembers the sea, through the darkness. Remembers tossing her friend Lydia into the waves at the beach, remembers their laughter as Lydia pulled her in as well. She remembers dunking her head under, feeling the rush of cold fill her up as she became lighter than she’d ever been, became part of the water.
‘The sea is cold,’ she remembers the captain saying. Yes, she thinks, but I am colder.
And the ocean? she realizes. The ocean is her sister.
She feels it filling her up, feels it caressing her body, enveloping her. Not killing her, but cradling her. A sister holding up her own blood, a mother, soothing her wailing child, kissing the hurt away. A goddess, hearing the prayers of her devoted believer, and answering them.
I have salt and seawater in my soul, Captain. I will show you how cold these waters can be.
She feels the edges of her body fading, feels herself stop being a me and become a we, become an us, become every drop of water and every clump of foam and every weed and every wave. Feels herself changing.
Her dress is pulled away by the waves, button by button, seam by seam. The sea strips her, soothes her skin. She feels herself swaying, feels her injuries healing. Feels herself become something more than a scared girl or a single spot of death in a pool of life, as her body flares like a fire, as her legs brush together, as they begin to fuse…
She feels herself heal, and she feels herself change.
When it is over, she is bare, but she feels no shame. Her tail twists in the water beneath her, swaying, more natural than her legs ever felt. Stronger, too. She runs her hand over the dark blue scales, the same shade as the surface in a storm. She feels herself smile.
Siren, she thinks, mermaid. Sister of the sea.
The captain was right; a ship is no place for a woman. This is the place for a woman.
And when she drags him screaming down into it, he will realize: the ocean may be cruel…but her sisters are worse.
Alice smiles again, and begins to swim after the ship fading into the distance.
if there is one piece of relationship advice i could give to women dating men, it’s this:
you’re not his mother. you don’t have to take his tantrums and walk him through basic shit. i know women are taught that they have to be nurturing and all that but it’s absolutely not your responsibility to “teach him to be a better person”.
marvel studios is going through a moment where they could literally pick any character and make a successful movie if they wanted to. for fucks sake they made one about a team that not even most marvel comics fans really cared about, when no one was asking for a movie about them, a team that features a talking tree and a talking raccoon, and it had the fucking biggest box office of the year so far. stop giving me those weak ass excuses for the lack of female led movies
info on the agents of shield vs agent carter dubsmash war from hayley atwell’s london comic con talk yesterday
hayley talked about how competitive she and james d'arcy got and how they were devastated when the shield cast did the video with clark gregg dressed as peggy. and then she said how james was basically like “well, there’s only one option. we have to fly to atlanta, we have to get chris evans involved”. so chris evans was texted, his response: “you guys are crazy. i love it, let’s do it”. so they just decided to fly to atlanta to enlist chris evans’ help.
hayley atwell and james d'arcy literally booked a last minute 5 hour trip to atlanta, just to film a 7 second video with chris evans, and then fly back again
And by “aesthetic” I mean “what you need to wear to survive in a brutal post-apocalyptic wasteland”.
1. MATERIAL
Contemporary retailers are full of lightweight knits and wafting synthetics. Be assured that these materials would not still be around 45 years after the end of civilization–they would fall apart under heavy wear.
The Vuvalini favor thicker, durable fabric, such as military-weight canvas for their topmost, protective layers. In some cases their sleeves appear to be sweatshirt-style jersey.
If you’re cosplaying, it will take a lot of wear and/or distressing to get new fabric to drape this way. One alternative is linen, which is suitably durable, but much less densely woven than most of the fabric onscreen. It will hang nicely right off the rack, and keep you cool. Plus it’s regaining enough popularity in more interesting cuts than the traditional tropical suit that you might even be able to find something Vuvalini-ready in a discount store.
Jeans will work for Vuvalini pants, provided they are adequately distressed. Unnamed Vuvalini #4 wears cargo pants.
Given that there have probably been no large animals in the Wasteland for some decades, they use very little leather. The pieces we do see are ragged edge cuts, like on the Valkyrie.
One of the cleaner exceptions is Unnamed Vuvalini #4′s cowl:
The top portion resembles an aviator cap, but it bells out and might even be attached to the part that covers her shoulders.
There’s also Keeper’s suede vest:
By the same token there is very little wool, which is a shame because it regulates body temperature and keeps you quite cool once you sweat through it. It’s also easy to repair… provided you have more wool. I’ve only spotted it on Unnamed Vuvalini #2:
And the vest they gave Cheedo.
2. LAYERS
Layers, layers, layers!
The least clothed we ever see one of the Vuvalini is Valkyrie at the tower; otherwise they’re positively bundled. They are all about coverage and protection, which adds up to probably at least three layers on each of them. A few of them do wear clearly detachable sleeves.
3. ZIPPERS = NO. BUCKLES = YES!
Sand and zippers don’t mix. I haven’t spotted a single visible zipper on the Vuvalini. Instead, there are loads of buckles.
So if nothing else, wear multiple belts over your top layer. Which brings us to…
4. ACCESSORIES
Nearly everything the Vuvalini wear is in drab earthtones, but they squeeze in swatches of bright color and patterns in their accessories, like the woven pieces at UV4′s hips, Maadi’s headband, and UV3′s and Keeper’s scarves. And of course, the bikes–so much brocade! If you have a scrap of cloth that makes it look like your first priority after the fall of civilization was looting an antique store, find a way to attach it to you. Then go roll in the dirt.
Almost nothing the Vuvalini wear seems to be purely decorative; even UV4′s necklace looks like it might double as a flask. And of course any pieces would be handmade of readily available materials, or possibly passed down from one generation to the next. When in doubt, if your item would be significant to your character, wear it.
Get ye some goggles! I daresay no Mad Max cosplay is complete without a pair. They’re not limited to the Vuvalini either:
If you can’t find any you like for cheap, look for spice tins with glass lids (check World Market if you have one near you). Punch a hole in the side of each lid, wire them together, and wrap the whole shebang in leather.
Everyone also has some form of wrist guard or wrapping. The Valkyrie has one full glove, probably for the purpose of doing zany shit like this:
Their boots are all calf-high, or else augmented with spats.
5. MODIFY EVERYTHING
Seriously, everything. These ladies have been living in the desert for years, and they have modified and repaired their clothes numerous times. Check out the side panel on UV4′s vest:
The only visibly whole items they have were clearly packed away for a long time before they gave them to the Sisters:
There are lots of ways to modify store-bought items–look up creative mending to get ideas.
And one more resource: this link has simple, easy-to-modify patterns for a leather cowl and spats!
But lets get to the most controversial scene in Mad Max in terms of feminist theory, the infamous Water scene. I’ve been frankly putting this off because if you get into the larger visual, narrative, and thematic context of this scene, this post will never end. This is even before delving into the the meta-context of genre and tropes. So I’ve decided to narrow the scope of this post down as far as I can in terms of pure composition and practical concerns. However, if you have meta on these topics, please let me know by ask or via reblog and I will add as a footnote below the cut-tag.
Let me first point out though that we have spent the few minutes prior to this scene with Max waking up from the sandstorm (having flashbacks), getting freaked out by the needle in his skin, and about to shoot a man’s wrist off to get free.
He then has another flashback, notice the sound effect, but the flashback is triggered by a very specific thing:
Girl’s voices. Like Glory. Like, say, voices he finds when he turns around the corner, of the Wives:
A note on why I use both Golden Rule and Rule of Thirds: The Golden Rule, while is more effective/precise is ridiculously hard to eyeball on-the-go and while filming moving images. Rule of Thirds is often ‘good enough.’ Film as a medium is not photography or painting, it’s a medium intent on capturing moving objects, and sometimes the demands of the shoot means that you end up with the ‘best try,’ especially if it’s an action shot containing either internal or external movement (ie. either in-camera objects moving or the view itself moving). What is more likely to be specifically composed are still shots, wide shots, or the beginning/ends of shots/pans.
Which you can see here. Look at how BOTH the Rule of Thirds and Golden Rule lines up with the landforms at the horizon. Look at how precisely the War Rig lands on the major diagonal.
Now look at what happens when the camera lands in it’s final position and the Wives come into focus:
Nothing lands on any of the 8 major sweetspots (the crosshairs of the Golden or the Third. The Dag’s back bent over the boltcutters is centerframed. And check out what falls on the horitzonal Golden:
The water. Angharad is bent over and covering her face, Toast’s head is blocking Capable’s chest. Look at that space between the vertical Third. It’s the chastity belt.
I am telling you right now that it would be easy as pie to take that belt and put it past the lower third where it wouldn’t be seen or to the far left. If they really hated it they could have told the people who erase wires in visual fx to erase the belts or to move them. It’s position is not an accident.
For some comparison here is some concept art of the scene (found in The Art of Mad Max Fury Road):
Even if they were more clothed, look at how more objectifying their poses are, how the butts are subtly (or not subtly) turned towards the viewer instead of slightly away from our gaze (compare Toast and Angharad to the two wives on the right in the art) and how Furiosa was supposed to have been freeing them, instead of the wives freeing themselves.
Here’s the full picture:
Notice the absence of the belts and the placement of the hose. Look at how Furiosa and the gun are on the Golden.
Let’s go further into the movie itself however. (warning, lots of pictures)
but what if a vampire drank the blood of someone who was anemic like would they be seriously grossed out
“what the fuck is this”
“i have anemia”
“can you take something for that you should probably take something for that this shit is nasty to drink let alone have running through your body i’m setting up a doctor’s appointment for you”
“dude really you don’t have to just leave what the fu—”
“you disgust me here take these iron supplements”
“where did you even get th—”
“shut up and take your pills and dont forget your vitamin D”
“i’m going to check up on you weekly to make sure you’re taking them”
“that’s not necessary”
“maybe we should work on a dietary plan with foods rich in iron and other things for you”
“do you get this involved with all of your meals”
VAMPIREDUDE: did u get the cookbook i orderd 4 u
ME: Oh my god, first of all stop using text speak, you told me you were 278, second how did you know where I LIVED, third yes I got it.
VAMPIREDUDE: heard onions were good 4 blood, eat lots
ME: So you can have a tasty meal? I guess you’d rather I stay away from garlic, huh.
VAMPIREDUDE: UR being v rude I just got u a present!!!
ME: THE COOKBOOK IS CALLED “HOW TO TASTE DELICIOUS,” I AM CALLING THE COPS
Frustrated or triggered because of that one tag/ship/fic/author that keeps showing up while you browse ao3? Here’s step-by-step guide to blacklisting à la tumblr savior on Archive of our Own.
we should talk more about how ‘macaroni’ in 18th century england was used to mean ‘fashionable’ because a bunch of rich young dudes went to italy and really liked the stuff there
Benefits of having OTPS that can double as brOTP:
Always together (platonic or romantic)
Nobody can deny they aren’t important to each other
Their fucking friendships are a precious thing
A good relationship
Communication comes relatively easy
Simple things can’t shake their unbreakable bro-ship
Cons:
Did you mean MAX ROCKATANSKY AND IMPERATOR FURIOSA.
