If I post once per hour around the clock, assume it's queue. If I post thrice per minute, assume I'm in pain. For anything inbetween, I'm enjoying a space where I don't have to pass as a human. @sugarelemental.bsky.social
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she is a princess and you are a dragon. she will be married tonight. do not keep standing outside of her room like that, go inside. go get her. that is what proper dragons do.
not that you have ever been a good or proper dragon. when you hatched out of your egg, your eggtooth was too smooth. the other dragons were rough with you, put little holes in your wings.
you were not bold. you were odd. you liked rippling water and the shine of chitin when bugs scuttle and of course the movement of the stars. those were all acceptable interests albeit maybe not traditional. perhaps you had inherited these through some great-great-uncle or something. certainly a dragon may be wise, or clever, if they are not bold.
yes, you have been a great deal of a puzzle to the other dragons. your body is smaller and rather more soft than it ought to be. so speed should have been yours, perhaps - your mother said it would be like fighting a shadow. if a dragon is not aggressive, it may instead be cruel, sly; a backstab. but alas your scales - so iridescent that they almost shine like the moon at night, a glow from within - you are not a shadow, you are a beacon like the flash of a knight's blade. your father has said at least you would make a fine egglayer, a nice mate to a good male. a dragon like you may still be a good mother perhaps; and that is a fine thing to be; although of course it would have been better if you'd been a trove-hoarder instead.
what a dragon must not be is kind.
you have watched her now for six moons. what a good and proper dragon would do is to go inside and to snatch her. a very proper dragon would have kidnapped her many times over, but you will be the delight of your brood to princess-snatch even at all. when you catch her in your jaws and bring her home, they will love you, then. they don't think you're capable of it, but you are, because you're a proper dragon. you can show them that. if you go in, now, right now.
you are rather too glossy to hide in the shadows, so instead you have learned how to appear flat and round, a puddle of light. (how your siblings would mock you! a dragon should be matte, to blend with the night). you dapple your flank with mud. you perch in odd angles atop of trees, scuttle like the bugs you love - hither, tither, frantic.
what you must not do is fly with your wings full-out. alight, you will be limned by the moon's corona. you will be a beacon. you must remember this when (not if) you snatch her.
____
you found her because of the lake. this lake in particular was your favorite - nestled deep in the woods, between two mountains. it is very quiet; there is nothing to horde there so no other dragon bothers you. a gentle waterfall spills over into a deep cove, and there are many mossy caves you've spent your afternoons napping in. while it is not proper for a dragon to prefer such things, you like to lay in rolling tenure just under the water. you have become excellent at holding your breath, can do it for hours. it is the easiest way to appear as a patch of sunlight.
she was not sunlight. she was the night's joy. the dark press of water. her face at first concealed by many diaphanous layers. her breathing quick and quiet.
she had pulled them back to drink from her water flask. and there she had been: a princess. your first very-real princess. right there, only the reach of a single talon from you. if you had simply lunged then, you would have been able to take her easily, in one single movement.
but you did not take her.
she had startled you a bit; you'd been daydreaming about music, which you'd just discovered, and rather liked. you'd heard it from a little house while you snuck in and stole their sheep.
but you knew the sound of fear, of being followed. you'd been chased too many times, you knew what it looked like. the rapid jolt of fear.
you smelled her then; cinnamon and onyx, and perhaps that was what had blinded you. perhaps your mouth was just watering. whatever the case, you waited until she had fled back into the forest; and then you waited a bit longer. in her wake, a garrison of men, their hands rough.
oh. so they were not knights. they were just men chasing a young woman through the woods. perhaps they did not even know a real princess had been running from them. well, that was a relief. you are not good at fighting with knights, who have swords instead of cudgels. these were just men, so you rose from the water in the quiet way you'd learned from the fish. they did not hear you coming.
and besides. proper dragons do violence so well.
___
once you had smelled her you could find her, although such things have always been easier for you than for the others. you spend a great deal of time studying things - it allows you to analyze them. you have tried to explain to the other dragons that sometimes it is best to slow down, but of course no dragon should be slow.
at first you did not understand the confusion of the people's umwelt. they relied so much on their communication (only words and actions!) and what they could see with their eyes. you and the other dragons did not use these as much; but you liked prying out the little sonic differences between hello that means "i like you" and hello that means "i don't like you."
so it took you a while to learn that you were responsible for what had happened to her. men had gone missing, and even bad men going missing makes a big fuss. (you know that if it had been girls missing, it would be okay. many proper dragons steal girls because it will not bring a knight to their door). for a while she had been trapped on the palace grounds. it was determined that it was no longer safe for her to be just a princess, she must undergo some human transformation and become a wife.
and then you saw her descending from the window of a castle, quick and agile, moving like a whisper, clad almost entirely in black. you could see her quite well of course, although you were not seeing her; but instead her heat and her smell and her sound and all the other sensory noise all humans give off.
you followed her, keeping yourself in a cloud so you appeared as if mist. she stole off into the woods. you were interested in that, and watched her scuttle - although of course you could have taken her then. she did not seem to do much in the woods, only run around cry into her little hands.
she appeared to be looking for something. she did not get far that first night; scurried back to her bed. over and over this happened - she would run as far as she could, only to go back again. it seemed rather boring to you, but of course you had been free your whole life.
and then one night - finally, she arrived at the lake. she sank to her knees then, her hands pressing into the water. her head tilted to the sky. her dark hair spilling in a caught breath behind her.
this is how you heard her voice for the first time. when she came again the next night, she did so more quickly, more assured. straight to the lake, as if it had called her.
she had skipped a pebble over the surface of the water. this action was dangerous, because it almost hit the sail of your wing. you had structured yourself very finely to look like a rockslide.
"three months." her voice was like her: it was deep and smooth and dark, a low violin string. "they want me to marry that bastard in three months."
and then she cried into her hands again, and the sound of it almost broke you.
so you followed her maybe more than a proper dragon should, then. more than back to the castle. you hid along her daily walks and watched her in the throne room and saw her out riding horses. she was good with dogs and nice to her people and very much a proper princess, although you know a proper princess ought not to slip out at night and run around barefoot through the woods.
you discovered she is terrible with directions. you have often had to make a path more clear so she could get home again. she cannot hunt better than an egg; you have had to kill fish and push them subtly up to the shore.
but she appears to love the lake as much as you do. you have seen her read by candlelight (how foolish. the entire woods saw her each time). you have seen her build little paper boats to float along the surface. you have seen her strip her many layers and dive in, have seen her lay with her belly to the sky, floating like she is suspended by the hands of darkness itself.
oh. so she loves the stars, as well, then.
__
you must go in. she will be married tonight. that is a human thing, but you have learned what it has meant. she will go to somewhere else, and you will not see her again, maybe ever. and then how will you be a proper dragon? go!
you have made yourself in the form of a gargoyle, hiding in the white stone. you can see into her room; and the tapestries that seem unlike her. everything in her room is very bright, which is bad for a proper dragon. there are many knights in the hallways and in their rooms, and their smell is itchy and repugnant to you.
her dress is white, which does not seem like her. you have only seen her wear black. she is sitting at some kind of desk, and she is crying again. she smells of cinnamon still, but moreso of grief. you can feel the heartbreak in her as if it was inside of you.
you cannot watch her cry anymore. you have watched too often without moving. that is shameful.
you nose the door open. you can move quiet, because you are not very big. she is within a cave of you, then a wingtip, and then she is standing up, looking into your eyes.
"it's you." her hand on your jaw is warm. "i thought i was imagining you, you know. i turned around that day. i saw what you did to those men. i have been looking for you since. i told everyone that i had an angel to protect me. they locked me in here anyway."
you are not an angel, you are a dragon. you have to keep your wings locked tight or you would explode the walls of this place. it makes you feel big, suddenly. you are not used to that sensation. you do not like to be locked in a tower. you believe maybe the princess does not like to be locked in a tower either.
you take her in your jaws. she is very small, and does not resist you. although you are not a strong flyer, you must take off in a single push. any other movement would be too slow. you must also hold your breath so you do not smell her, the clove and cinnamon and little bird of hope. your mouth would water and you would drop her.
against the full moon, you do the thing that is impossible. you stretch yourself out all the way, a bold and beaming arrow, and you fly. you can hear them cry about you now, loudly. a banner that would strike pride even into your father: dragon. dragon. dragon.
on the eve of her wedding, you snatch the princess from her tower.
an arrow whisks for you, and then dozens, and then hundreds. you are not afraid of pain. you have learned long ago how to fly with holes in your wings. you hold her very gently still, and you push past the smell of your blood.
in the night you are a star. someone somewhere could look up and see you and make a wish.
there will be another lake, you decide. you can find another lake. somewhere very, very far from here. however long you must fly, however long you must hold your breath: you will take her home, because you are a proper dragon.
___
sometimes they come for her, your treasure. you have built her a little castle here, deep in the forests off the map. and of course for you: a silver round lake like the shift of her iris. you bring her books and she brings you bugs to study. you let her saddle you, and together you ride through the clouds and fog banks. she is a shadow on your back; a warm and velvet thing. she makes you music and lives the way she should; free in the night like a promise.
but they do come. you have stolen a real princess, and they do not want her to be a princess. they want to make her into a brood mother, or into bait, or into prey. they always look into the caves first; into the places proper dragons stay. they are real knights, not just men with sticks. they are loud and their smell still makes you itch.
but she has made you brave now, and cunning. if a dragon is not big, it should be cunning. and since you are a proper dragon, and since your treasure is your most precious thing, you lay in wait.
let them come. you will let the light drip off of you, and then you will pour through them.
afterwards, your princess will tell you a story around the fire. she will patch your wounds as she did that first time. she will sing to you.
and in that moment, neither of you will be a title nor a story. she will just be herself, and you will just be you.
Okay we've seen the upper limits of what an astronomical budget for filmmaking can do. Let's cap the budget at $500,000 for a few years and see what film teams forced to get creative and utilize unknown actors produce.
This post is a thought experiment about the potential for small budget independent movie productions and nothing else. It’s NOT about wealthy corporations using AI to cut corners and it’s certainly not about TV shows with multi million dollar budgets thanks to Canadian government grants.
If you can only dismiss the spirit of the post bc you can’t conceive of a well made production on a limited budget that’s a skill issue. There’s tons of small Arthurian projects I love that fit this exact premise. Have you heard of Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Yeah. Exactly. More of that please.
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Oh, to be a little kitten who just got vaccinated and then taken to a high-end restaurant and tasted the best food the chefs could offer and then fell asleep in a basket.
Everyone: Californians are such whimps about the weather. "Oh no there's half an inch of rain, whatever shall i do?"
Also everyone: When there's a hurricane you should never drive through water more than six inches deep, water that's a high as your ankle is enough to sweep you away.
Every major street in southern California when there's half an inch of rain: I used to be a dry riverbed in a desert, but today I am a river again :)
Reviving this meme from when Australians and the British were complaining about our weather and not being taken seriously. I absolutely feel you, best of luck with your rough weather
seeing people say "this trope has been done to death" as if that's ever stopped anyone from eating bread. BREAD HAS BEEN DONE TO DEATH FOR LITERALLY THOUSANDS OF YEARS AND WE STILL WANT MORE BREAD. write your chosen one AU. write your coffee shop meet-cute. write your 47th iteration of "there was only one bed" because guess what??? we're still hungry.
One of my marie kondo tidbits is that one time she really did throw out everything that didnt spark joy including her screwdrivers and thought she could get away with tightening a screw with one of her favourite rulers but instead ended up snapping it in half
So when she tells people to consider how an item helps you not fuck up your shit and thats how you find joy, just know its from experience
The Placebo effect is a known psychological and physiological phenomena where the perceived act of treatment has demonstrable effects. For a simplified example, suppose researchers are testing the effectiveness of a new sleep drug. Half the participants in a study, chosen at random, are given the real medication. The other half are given an identical-looking pill (known as a placebo) with no medication inside. This is a common pattern in a "blind" trial, so as to have a baseline to compare against. In a "double blind" trial, the researchers are also prevented from knowing which patient is given the real drug.
It is possible for the participants who received the placebo to experience improved sleep as well as side effects. These responses may be measurable, rather than just reported. This is known as the "placebo effect" and must be corrected for.
The first post purports to be a "placebo meme." That is to say, it claims to somehow be a placeholder joke without any joke content. This is tautologically impossible. The very concept of a placebo joke is, itself, a joke. Such a thing would serve no purpose, and is self-defeated. The claim that "it is shown to be as effective as regular memes in a segment of the population" is a reference to the plecebo effect, and is something of a troll (another form of humor) since it primes people with the expectation that it is somehow "tricking" people into finding it funny. The first post is a joke, and it was created as a joke, and its creator posted it as a joke. The joke is that it claims not to be a joke. All of this is independent of whether or not it is a funny joke.
The second image draws a parallel between the painting and the original "placebo meme". The art exists in the claim that it is not that which it clearly appears to be. The Treachery of Images would not be itself without the text claiming it is not a pipe. The original meme would not be the joke it is making without the claim that it is not a meme.
The placebo effect is well known in the early twenty-first century. The Treachery of Images is also quite famous (as it is a common subject of jokes about 20th century art), but the existence of the image is more well known than the title.
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just feels like an enchanted weapon is redundant? o.k. congratulations you have an extremely sharp sword, you can disembowel people. equally okay, you have a (grey legal area) enchantment that can magnetize the iron in your opponent's bloodstream. either one is great!
both at the same time tho? well now that feels like u just don't trust the workmanship u've invested in
And if someone insisted i take a sword and go defeat a dragon, i'd insisted they enchant the sword with Cuteness Overload, because let's get real, my best chance to survive is when dragon decides i'm too cute to eat.
The Placebo effect is a known psychological and physiological phenomena where the perceived act of treatment has demonstrable effects. For a simplified example, suppose researchers are testing the effectiveness of a new sleep drug. Half the participants in a study, chosen at random, are given the real medication. The other half are given an identical-looking pill (known as a placebo) with no medication inside. This is a common pattern in a "blind" trial, so as to have a baseline to compare against. In a "double blind" trial, the researchers are also prevented from knowing which patient is given the real drug.
It is possible for the participants who received the placebo to experience improved sleep as well as side effects. These responses may be measurable, rather than just reported. This is known as the "placebo effect" and must be corrected for.
The first post purports to be a "placebo meme." That is to say, it claims to somehow be a placeholder joke without any joke content. This is tautologically impossible. The very concept of a placebo joke is, itself, a joke. Such a thing would serve no purpose, and is self-defeated. The claim that "it is shown to be as effective as regular memes in a segment of the population" is a reference to the plecebo effect, and is something of a troll (another form of humor) since it primes people with the expectation that it is somehow "tricking" people into finding it funny. The first post is a joke, and it was created as a joke, and its creator posted it as a joke. The joke is that it claims not to be a joke. All of this is independent of whether or not it is a funny joke.
The second image draws a parallel between the painting and the original "placebo meme". The art exists in the claim that it is not that which it clearly appears to be. The Treachery of Images would not be itself without the text claiming it is not a pipe. The original meme would not be the joke it is making without the claim that it is not a meme.
The placebo effect is well known in the early twenty-first century. The Treachery of Images is also quite famous (as it is a common subject of jokes about 20th century art), but the existence of the image is more well known than the title.
Okay, I was just going to reblog this without commentary, but I can't keep this to myself. I'm a PhD student in environmental science and this is my fucking highway.
The first published study about climate change (that I am aware of-- feel free to point out if there's an older one) is an 1896 paper by Svante Arrhenius. He pointed out the link between the greenhouse effect and changes in atmospheric CO2.
Plate tectonics, which the geoscience community now recognizes as near indisputable, was a fringe theory until about the 1960s.
Just in case anyone thought that climate change was a "recent fad" in research.
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Not the part about Brian Thompson killing people, this is true.
The part about Luigi Mangione killing Brian Thompson is an opinion. Someone did, but let's be realistic. Cops staying alone with his backpack in separate room and then finding manifesto and a gun in it? They framed first guy they could. All Luigi Mangione did was looking kinda similar to guy from the recording and being conveniently available to frame
Mycoprotein is fucking cool, vat-grown meat is fucking cool, believe me I am fucking down for figuring out efficient calories and I’m interested in attempting to reduce or eliminate animal agriculture but you wouldn’t want me to sneak-feed you cricket flour, you don’t get to sneak-feed me your stuff.
I wouldn’t mind if you snuck-fed me cricket flour, actually. If cricket flour is indistinguishable from regular flour then sure, go for it.
I really don’t know what the initial gripe is about, though. The anonymous person you quote is not trying to sneak-feed you anything. They outright say “meatless alternative.” Is your problem that they may have GMOs? I genuinely have no idea what your complaint is, because you’re talking about people sneak-feeding you meatless stuff but your pics are all about GMO corn starch or whatever.
I have celiac disease and a corn allergy and a relative who wanted to try to pass off impossible burger as ground beef to prove how good meat alternatives are.
I don’t care about “gmo” and I dont care about the fact that it’s “textured protein” I care about “corn” and “wheat” and I care that people without food allergies rarely know how inescapable some of those allergens are.
“Oh, I checked the ingredients, it doesn’t have corn”
Okay but does it have maltodextrin, modified food starch, xanthan gum, caramel coloring, dextrose, or glucose syrup?
If it does have any of those things do they specifically say “from potatoes,” “from tapioca,” “from cane sugar” or “from rice”?
If it didn’t did you check the manufacturer’s website? If that didn’t say did you call the manufacturer?
Sometimes I’ll use almond or coconut flour as a replacement for wheat flour when I’m cooking. I do not try to pretend that my alternate flour chocolate chip cookies are wheat flour chocolate chip cookies because most people don’t expect to run into coconut or almond when they pick up a chocolate chip cookie. I don’t try to hand them to people, wait for them to eat a cookie, and say “hah, bet you didn’t think gluten free cookies could taste good, huh?” because if I did that to someone with a severe allergy it could kill them, but also because people should have a say in what they’re eating.
I’ve got no problem with beyond beef or impossible burger describing their products as meat alternatives, I’ve got no problem with GMOs or the fact that quorn is made out of a heavily engineered protein. That’s all very neat, actually.
But I do have a problem with people trying to sneakily serve meat alternatives without considering that doing so is shitty for a number of reasons.
Also, insect protein can cause severe reactions to people with shellfish allergies, so that’s another reason not to feed cricket flour to people without telling them.
And by severe reactions to shellfish/insect protein they mean ANAPHYLAXIS.
That’s medical speak for:
IT CAN KILL YOU.
Anaphylaxis can cause you to have difficulty breathing or stop breathing at all. It can cause a critical drop in blood pressure or send you into medical shock.
Never sneak ingredients into someone’s food. Especially if you know they have dietary restrictions, but even if you don’t know. They may not have told you.
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
jimmyeatworldofficial
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
amandla
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