fall-out-bangtan:

rosebud-boi:

antifamutant:

immaplatypus:

snarling-through-our-smiles:

san-likes-ashitaka:

iconuk01:

ihascookies:

jackfrost-flakes:

tahnospanties:

missjudygarland:

cammadanar:

This was a big deal once.

Look at the CG animation on hair now:

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oh my god, i remember watching the special features of the incredibles and they kept saying how difficult violet’s hair was to animate.

excuse me i think we’re forgetting someone else’s beautiful hair

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YOU’RE RIGHT

Are we really overlooking the Disney/Pixar character with
2,320,413

individually animated hairs?

can’t forget this lil Dreamworks lady’s hair

One of the senior animators actually spent six fucking years trying to write a new program to animate Rapunzel’s hair.

adding to the comment above, it turns out that disney had to actually hire someone with a PhD in animating human hair to get rapunzel’s hair correct

a PhD in hair

Imagine hearing about Disney need someone with a hair PhD and finally being able to say:

“This is my time”.

AND THEN THERE WAS THIS REVOLUTION

pancakeke:

unmovinggreatlibrary:

the-foley-knoll-horror:

pancakeke:

megatome:

pancakeke:

discsfine:

pancakeke:

my bones!! feel free to look but please don’t steal my bones!!

reblog to steal her bones

NO

we’re over halfway to stealing all of jess’ bones

STOP!!

They took the whole skellington

Congratulations to pancakeke for becoming the first living person to have their bones stolen by tumblr users.

I love how you can’t say “first person”

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

cassandrapentayaaaaas:

Send me a # (questions for OCs) or a letter (questions for creators) and I’ll answer

QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs

  1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?
  2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?
  3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)
  4. How easy is it to earn their trust?
  5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?
  6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?
  7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?
  8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child
  9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?
  10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?
  11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?
  12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?
  13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?
  14. What animal do they fear most?
  15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?
  16. What makes their stomach turn?
  17. Are they easily embarrassed?
  18. What embarrasses them?
  19. What is their favorite number?
  20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?
  21. Why do they get up in the morning? 
  22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 
  23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 
  24.  Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 
  25.  What are their thoughts on marriage? 
  26.  What is their preferred mode of transportation? 
  27.  What causes them to feel dread? 
  28.  Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 
  29.  Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 
  30.  Who do they most regret meeting? 
  31.  Who are they the most glad to have met? 
  32.  Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke? 
  33.  Could they be considered lazy? 
  34.  How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 
  35.  How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive? 
  36. Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap? 
  37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)? 
  38. What memory do they revisit the most often? 
  39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 
  40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?
  41. How do they feel about children? 
  42. How badly do they want to reach their end goal? 
  43. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so? 

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character?
B) What inspired you to create them?
C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?
D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?
E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?
H) What trait do you admire most?
I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?
J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

fantasmicdisneynerd:

prideknights:

saterii:

caeryth:

writing-prompt-s:

After your parents found out you are gay and kicked you out, the only place left for you to go was the magical forest. Write about your life.

The birds began their chirping at the first signs of sunlight. A disgruntled yawn startled some of the birds that had been singing away in the treetops. As soon as Roderick finished stretching, he hastily took off his boots and clothes to streak into the lake. He was butt-naked and he felt no shame. Not here at least. There were no people living in or around this part of the forest. It was rumored that many dangerous creatures found their home here and that the darkest parts had swallowed men’s souls whole. Roderick thought it was perfect. Legends like these kept people at bay. He felt safe here. And being an outcast himself, he almost felt at home. Sometimes he could not sleep as he saw eyes preying on him in the distance. However, it seemed as if the birds enchanted their surroundings with their songs, keeping the darkness out. Once Roderick had finished his morning routine, he spruced himself up to the best of his abilities, strapped on his sword, and set out for the nearest town. Birds would sometimes stop mid-song as he passed underneath them, wondering where a roaring growl had come from – which, of course, had come from Roderick’s stomach.

He had not eaten in days and his hunting skills were practically nonexistent. Luckily, he was familiar with a bakery in the nearest town, Rosebarrow, and it had the most delicious bread throughout the land of Estria. On top of that, it was free for him most of the time.

The townsfolk would look at him in disgust from their front porches as soon as they laid eyes on him. His muddy boots and tattered clothes were almost certainly a sign he was an outcast. Roderick clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword when he heard two women talking in hushed voices as they walked by, glaring at him. It was the usual. It was the world he lived in and he had come to accept.

Roderick turned a corner and the air was suffused with the smell of freshly baked bread. He exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension in his body from encountering the townspeople and sauntered into the bakery. A bell chimed and soon after a young man came hurrying from the back room to welcome his customer.

“Roderick!” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s good to see you again.”

Roderick looked around, his eyes carefully inspecting the place. He had come here every week for the past six months and had learned to be cautious. The young man twiddled with his fingers, seeming to wait for Roderick to say something back or, at the very least, make eye contact.

“Is he here?” Roderick finally said.

“No”, the young man replied, his smile sobering up. “He is seeing some investors. He wants to go into the gold mining industry or something.”

Roderick didn’t reply. The young man took that as his cue, turned around to collect an arm full of loaves from the shelves behind him, and placed them on the counter. Roderick opened his bag and put the loaves inside. They were still warm, and for some reason a wave of sadness passed through his body.

The young man looked at him, his eyes trailing Roderick’s every movement as if he might disappear at any moment. When Roderick shoved the last loaf in his bag, the young man leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss.

Roderick recoiled. “Not now, Charlie!” he snapped. “In broad daylight?”

“Calm down, no one saw us,” said Charlie. But Roderick’s eyes widened in fear. “I just told you my dad is meeting up with investors and you know I would never kiss you if anyone was around. Trust me. Why are you always so anxious about this?“

His body stiffened at the remark. “Why?” shouted Roderick. “Are you seriously asking me this question?” Roderick swiveled on his heels and made for the door.

“Wait. Wait!” Charlie hurried after him.  "I am sorry. That was foolish. Please stay.”

Roderick stared at him incredulously. “Do you know how many of us are killed every single day, Charlie?” Tears crept up in the corner of his eyes. “For real, what were you thinking? If we continue to keep this up, it’s going to get us both killed! Fucking killed, Charlie! The Royal Guard kill people like us on the spot!”

Charlie stepped closer. His fingers gently wiping away the tears streaking across Roderick’s face. “I know,” he whispered.

“Don’t you dare touch me like this!” Roderick batted his hand away. Roderick reached for the doorknob, but before he could open the door Charlie had slapped him in the face.

“You are the man I love,” his fist pulled back, ready to deal a heavy blow. “You…,” he stammered. “You… of all people. Don’t you dare…,” Charlie lowered his fist and started sobbing.

Roderick knew where Charlie was going. He used to be more certain of himself. But the more he got to know himself, the less of him was left. The people of Estria didn’t accept two men loving each other.

“This is not good for any of us, this secrecy. It’s eating us alive!”

“It’s eating you alive” Charlie retorted.

When I was about to leave the house for good…,” Roderick said, clenching his fist, “…my father walked up to me, opened the door, and said he was not going to judge me, but he’d be happy to break my neck so God could do the judging a little sooner, and shoved me outside.”

Charlie fell silent. Roderick had told him everything about his past, and he could not possibly forget something like that.  "I understand,“ he whispered.

“No!” he shot Charlie an icy stare. “I don’t think you understand.” He opened the door and stormed out. The bell chimed violently as he smashed the door shut.

The steps on the stairs creaked. “Charlie?” came a voice. Charlie jerked around and froze instantly.

“I… I thought you were out of town,” Charlie said, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror.

“You are a sin, my disgrace of a son.”
————————
The next morning Roderick woke up exhausted. He barely slept and the few dreams he had were all about Charlie never wanting to speak to him again. Charlie had only tried to reconcile, he shouldn’t have stormed off like he had. Roderick packed his things and once again set out for Rosebarrow.

Upon arriving at the bakery he noticed that a rather large crowd had gathered around its entrance. As he made his way through the crowd, he passed a man who said, “I heard his own father has done him in. Praise that man.” Another woman said, “It’s probably going to take a while to scrub that sinful blood out from the floor.”

Terror swept quick as lightning over Roderick’s face. His heart raced as he made his way to the edge of the crowd. He noticed a woman speak to two men in red cloaks. ‘That must be the royal guard,’ thought Roderick. “Could you describe to me what the man looked like?” inquired one of the guards. “Man? He’s an abomination! Just like that scum Charlie you found dead on the floor this morning.”

Roderick’s heart almost pounded out of his chest and he could barely make out what the woman was saying among the thunder in his head. “He has curly hair and green eyes and is about this height,” to which the woman rose her hand a foot above her head. “And he has a sword with a very distinguishable guard. An owl!” Roderick’s heart might as well have stopped at that very moment, but instead it was pounding so quickly and loud that people around him might have heard it. He glanced at his sword, quickly covered the guard with his hand, and made his way out of the crowd as fast as he could, fighting back the tears that might give him away. All he wanted was to get out of that place, out of that town.

He arrived in the woods two hours later. Charlie was dead. Roderick’s only reason to live had been murdered by his own father. He stared blankly into the lake. The water looked serene and darkly inviting. He trudged off into the lake and continued walking limply against the rising water that slowly swallowed him whole. He dived in and tried to stay underwater by holding on to the vegetation growing on the bottom. But no matter how hard Roderick tried, he wouldn’t drown. His head parted the water and he gasped for air before disappearing into the lake again as quickly as he had surfaced. He kept trying to drown himself, but after failing a dozen times he finally gave up. Roderick crawled out of the water and slammed the bank with his fists, making water and sand splash up around him. “Is this what is left of me?” he cried. “How could I have let this happen?” He unsheathed his sword and pressed the point to his chest. But upon seeing the sword he remembered Charlie’s words: “This sword is an heirloom. But we never even look at it. Here, you can have it.” He remembered how Charlie looked at him as he handed Roderick the sword. “May it protect you in the forest and guide you to greater heights. There’s something about you, and I’m not quite sure what it is, but I think you can change this land for the better. I think it’s your eyes…they look so determined.”

Roderick had accepted the sword rather hesitantly. “Well if you insist, then I shall hereby promise that this sword will not only serve to protect my own ass, but will also serve to protect you.” And then they kissed and laughed, and kissed a little more. Roderick had no idea where his determination had gone since that day, but he started to suspect that it wasn’t the forest that would swallow his soul whole, but rather the people living in Estria themselves.

A breeze rustled through the trees when suddenly the wind picked up. Birds chirped loudly as their branches swayed. Roderick clenched his sword, his eyes darting around the trees. As quickly as it started, the wind fell silent. Roderick’s mouth fell open in utter bewilderment. It might have been his imagination, but there, only a few feet in front of him, stood Charlie with his back turned to Roderick. His eyes widened as he used his arms to crawl forward, his hand trembling violently as it reached out for Charlie.

“Charlie!” his eyes welling up. His face was soon a mixture of tears and cold water that had dripped from his hair. “I am so sorry!” He forced his body up despite the exhaustion and ran towards Charlie. But he could not will his body for long, his legs were shaking and quickly gave out, making him fall back to his knees. Charlie did not move. “I am a coward,” Roderick began, “I promised I would protect you but even that I couldn’t do.” He waited for a response, but none came. “Charlie?” Still nothing. “Charlie, I love you.” Roderick was desperate. “Charlie, what do you want me to say? Say something. Please…,” he said as he dragged himself forward. And just when he was almost able to graze Charlie’s feet, Charlie turned around and held out his hand, smiling.

Roderick could feel his blood gushing through his veins as he looked at Charlie’s hand hovering in front of his face. He grasped it, and Charlie helped him up. For a moment they looked at each other. The storm raging in Roderick’s eyes calmed. The wind started to pick up again, and his lover vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

Night fell and Roderick’s sobs turned into anger as he rummaged in his bag and found that the once warm bread was cold. “Estria and all its people can go fuck themselves!” he shouted at the clouds above him. ‘You were always there for me. Your kind and loving self. You gave me this sword and bread and picked me up when no one else would,’ he thought as he clenched his fist, nails digging so deep into his skin that it began to bleed.

All of a sudden, it was as if the fire the townsfolk said he would burn in for all of eternity filled his heart. Roderick stood tall. “No one will define me! I will define myself, and if their God doesn’t praise me, I will praise myself!” The wind continued to howl. “I promised I would protect you with this sword and I will.” He lifted it high in the air and looked at the sword as it glistened in the moonlight. “Do you hear me?!” He shouted. “In your memory…,” tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, “… I promise to protect everyone who’s different like us. Even if it costs me my life.” He pounded his chest. “Do you hear me?” he shouted again. “I shall fight. Nor the king’s army nor the people of Estria shall defy me. I am going to train and I will proclaim myself a knight to make sure anyone can be whoever the hell they want to be and love whoever the hell they want to love. I will look after them as you looked after me. This ends here!” And even though tears were rolling down his face, his eyes grew more and more determined.

—–3 years later—–

Roderick had taken on an apprenticeship as a blacksmith. He’d promised to work diligently and refused any form of compensation as long as the blacksmith taught him how to use his sword. He worked the iron, and with every blow of the hammer he remembered his vow. Each evening he practiced his stances and technique as if his life depended on it – and it did. After three years of toiling every day without pause, he felt confident in his skills. Roderick took the final test, forged his own armor, and passed with flying colors. “Remarkable, the owl elements you managed to put in this armor,” said his teacher, his face beaming with approval. “It’s outstanding.”

The blacksmith had gifted him a black stallion. Together on his horse Valicius, Roderick forged ahead, looking for other knights to join his order. He galloped to all quarters of the compass, sleeping in the scorching heat of deserts and camping in the darkest of caves.

Seven months passed and the clatter of hooves that long had been the only sound to keep him company was soon a rolling thunder that would turn the heads of anyone who heard it. For now, riding beside Roderick were seven other knights that had joined the order:

The Pink Eagle, a princess whose father ordered the death of her beloved Anna, by lashing her until she collapsed.

The Black Arrow, who never missed a shot except when it comes to romance. He carries a bow made of entangled vines.

The Gator, a pan knight who was banished and left to his own devices in the swamps of Argar, where he wrestled alligators and gained strength.

The Eclipse, who was excommunicated after a church member found he took too much liking in men and women, and his non-binary sibling Deimos, who is so strong they can uproot fully grown trees with their bare hands.

The Diamond, a trans woman to who people threw stones at after a fellow mine worker once caught her wearing a dress. Her armor is made out of the strongest materials, inset with a diamond placed over her heart, that no stone will ever be able to scratch.

And the Ace, who refused to make love and have children after she was betrothed to a handsome nobleman. She was thrown to the wolves but was quickly accepted by them.

Grass streaked underneath the thudding of hooves, but vanished as they came to a halt. There they stood, side by side on their horses, on the edge of a cliff that overlooked Rosebarrow.

“Today”, began Roderick, “I am honored and blessed to have you as my friends. Three years ago I made a vow…,” he said, looking up, thinking about Charlie “… that I would protect anyone who is queer with this sword.” He heaved the sword to show the other knights. “The king’s army and the people of Estria kill us for what? Because I like men? Because they don’t understand you are a woman? We are a disgrace they say. Say we should burn. But I don’t believe that! Nobody but me decrees what I can and cannot be!” He banged his chest. “We share the same pain and I have nothing but respect and admiration that you joined me on this mission. This isn’t my mission anymore, it’s ours.”

“There are kids, people, who go through life with their heads down, ashamed of who they are. They have been taught that who they are is wrong and they can’t even be themselves, and if they are, they get punished. Accepting yourself, loving yourself, being proud of yourself, it’s something all those people in Estria have. They are probably not even aware of what a privilege that is. And they call us a sin? Us? Fuck them. Being able to be yourself is a goddamn human right! And nobody, nobody, is going to take that away from us.”

“We have been through a lot. The battle is by far not only fought in the realm of the physical. The hardest battle is in our mind and hearts. But we are strong, we have overcome many trials, and you have given me the courage to stand up for others! To walk with pride!”

“Tonight we ride for Rosebarrow and let it be known we have arrived!

That we have their back

Because who are we?”

“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!” the other knights bellowed, their horses rearing up.

“The king’s army does not expect us to win

But we will never surrender!

Weakness is not in our hearts!

We will look at our fellow queers who struggle and fight day in and day out

And we will draw strength from them!

Because who are we?”

“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”

“Never will we let them fall, never will we let them down

We will protect them

Because who are we?”

“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”

“It’s just the eight of us now, and it might be the eight of us forever

We cannot expect others to ride with us

But we continue to fight for them!

And welcome everyone with open arms

So we can walk with pride together!

Because who are we?”

“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!

“WHO ARE WE?”

“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”

This made me tear up

As someone who has struggled with his orientation for a long time, this story hits really close to home and is very important to me. I reached out to @caeryth asking if we could do more with it. We want to have a website and create more Pride Knights’ content to inspire and empower others. We want everyone to know that your differences are what make you unique and that you are valid no matter how you identify yourself. We are both students and are short on money to buy a website but this is going to happen no matter how long it takes. However, we’ve made merch for our fellow Pride Knights who want to help out. Meet us:

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There are t-shirts, sweatshirts and hoodies. The print is on the back and the Pride Knights’ logo on the front.

Join us and inspire and empower others. Show that it’s okay to differ from the masses. Show your support for others and your pride in yourself – celebrate what makes you, you.

We have each other’s backs!

We stand up for our fellow queers who fight day in and out and we draw strength from them!

We walk with pride!

We are the Pride Knights!

The merch is available until December 15

https://teespring.com/stores/prideknights

Join us on Tumblr @prideknights and Instagram @prideknights

Flood the earth with queer positive content 

Flood the earth with positive and strong queer fantasy characters 

Flood the earth with Pride Knights 

whiskey-and-ink:

I think men overall just don’t understand that we cannot stop the blood. If there’s nothing to collect it, it’s going everywhere. Everyone 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 we all 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.