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Do you ever think about how staggeringly in bad taste it is that Gandalf brought a firework that turns into Smaug to Bilbo’s birthday party

Like how were you hoping that would go

*gandalf voice* so bilbo lived to be 111 huh? it would be a shame if someone or something caused him to go into c a r d i a c a r r e s t

Gandalf: I’m still not a hundred percent sure that magic ring is artificially extending Bilbo’s life, so let’s run some tests.

i would note that bilbo was the only person at the party not even slightly alarmed, so possibly gandalf just knows him well

“You know what would be the greatest gift I could give Bilbo on his 111th birthday? Making Lobelia and Otho Sacksville-Baggins shit their pants at the party.” 

@darkespeon11

Gandalf is a real one who knows damn that Bilbo Baggins at 111 years old has never once shut the fuck up about his hot girl summer with the dwarves and is absolutely gonna be telling the story again at this party so how absolutely cunt would it be to set this bad boy off exactly as he gets to the part where Smaug flies over Laketown, he’d love the drama, he deserves it, it it’s his birthday

my observation from 2 months of kittens

calvin vs his parents

Some day I'm going to run a trad fantasy dungeon crawler campaign where instead of unbroken ten-thousand-year dynasties, every time the player characters need to interact with the nobility, etc. I use a set of lookup tables to randomly generate the kingdom's current political situation. If the new results are irreconcilable with the old, there was a revolution while they were down in the dungeon and they didn't notice.

Fascinated by the idea that having a player character with a noble backstory accelerates the pace of political turmoil because each downtime counts as a separate instance of "interacting with nobility".

Historian: and then after thousands of years of relative stability, the Third Age finally came to a close, followed by the Age of We're Not Gonna Fucking Get Into This Bullshit.

Yeah that tracks

new variant on “your boos mean nothing; I’ve seen what makes you cheer”

"Your thirst means nothing; I've seen what makes you horny."

SOMEONE FINALLY PUT IT INTO WORDS!!!

guYS THE FUCKING SIGNS

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

@hopepunk-humanity

being a writer leads to a genuinely helpful but also very stupid kind of mindfulness where you'll be having a sobbing breakdown or the worst anxiety attack of your life and think "okay, I really need to pay attention to how this feels. so I can incorporate it into my fanfiction."

In Skyrim they present to you that half of the country is Imperial controlled & half is Stormcloak, but this is not true. rather, collectively Imperial & Stormcloak control about 2% of the land and the rest is very solidly controlled by the bandits

I cant even walk to Solitude without some raggedy hide armor wearing moron demanding money from me. I will summon Daedra and make it your problem.

Hey, USAmericans? Wanna save your country? Run For Something!

I want to offer an anecdote about my coworker, who ran for the school board. His campaign (8 years ago now, I believe) cost him around $1800. Mostly he socialized with his community, got to know his neighbors, the people who would be voting. His brother would text him when he found a gathering of people, so he could show up and socialize & answer questions.

He's been running unopposed since then.

I know $1800 is not pocket change to most people. But it's not an insurmountable amount of money either.

Life really does align in weird ways.

My bully from 5th grade who snapped my glasses in front of his friends just found me on social media a few weeks ago.

He wrote me a long apology saying how he was now a father to a 3 year old little girl and was taking her to get her first pair of little glasses in the next few days—and it brought back what he did. He said couldn’t ever handle the idea of someone doing that to her.

My first instinct was to tell him to get lost, but I realized I was getting what I always prayed for. I just wanted the people who were mean to me to eventually understand it—even if it took a personal experience to relate to and 14 years to open their eyes.

A piece of me healed in that moment as I gave him glasses advice for his daughter because I was the same age when I got my first pair.

Kids are really ruthless, but it takes a healed adult to reach out to apologize. And there is always time to change; it’s never too late.

Funny story!

The same thing happened to me, more or less, about twelve years ago or so. Guy who had tortured me in elementary school (the kind of shit that would get an adult a lengthy prison term but got written off as "boys will be boys", yeah, I went to THAT kind of school) reached out to me on Facebook. He'd gotten sober, found Jesus, was making amends, blah de blah. He said he was very sorry and hoped I could find it in my heart to forgive him.

Now, you understand, I can't say that I was still holding much of a grudge. I'd have had a moment of temptation if I was driving around and saw him in a crosswalk, but I probably would have kept the brake on. Depending on my blood sugar at the time.

Possibly due to having lawyer parents or being a cast-iron cuss by nature or circumstance, I've always had a very acute sense of what I owe other people. Pop culture has conditioned us to say "I forgive you" when someone apologizes, but you're not obliged to follow the social ritual, so I didn't.

I wrote back to him saying that (and this was true) that I appreciated his apology more than I could possibly say, and that it meant a lot to me. However, he hadn't really seen me as a human being when we were in school together, just a queer, friendless, bookish little nerd who nobody would defend, someone to take out his frustrations on. And he wasn't really seeing me as a human being now, just a stepping stone on his personal Path to Salvation.

(I wasn't put on this earth to Teach Anyone an Important Lesson. I'm not a character in someone else's story. I'm, you know, a person, and I can choose whether or not to play the role someone expects of me. I'm not obliged to play it, and neither is anybody else)

So I told him that, that being the case, while I still really appreciated him reaching out, I couldn't, and didn't, forgive him for his cruelty to me when we were children.

Y'see, this was a test, children. If he'd responded with something like, gosh, well, I'm sorry to hear that, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday, I'd have given him what he wanted.

Instead, he called me an asshole and blocked me. Womp womp.

I don't hate him. I don't wish ill on him. I hope he's a better dad than his was, and he teaches his children not to be cruel. But I didn't owe him catharsis.

Possibly not as uplifting as the OP up there, but I still feel good about it.

mindkettő fontos

Why does it feel weird and intimate to mention that someone was in even the most innocuous of your dreams? Sorry my subconscious decided to think about you for a second. You were a curator at an ice cream museum that was also my second grade classroom. If you even care.

there’s a lot going on here

https://abcnews.go.com/US/tiger-found-caged-abandoned-home-chance-wildlife-sanctuary/story?id=61130943

Tiger found caged in abandoned home gets second chance at wildlife sanctuary: ‘He seems to be so happy’

The estimated 350-pound tiger was transported to the facility, an affiliate of the Humane Society of the United States, on Wednesday afternoon, and is settling in well, Almrud said. There, he will have the chance to roam in enclosures of up to three acres.

Almrud, who estimates him to be about 2 years old, described the moment he first walked onto the grass at the sanctuary as remarkable.

“It was just amazing to see him walk out on grass and to see him explore and have that freedom of movement,” she said. “It was just such a reward and fulfilling to us.”

Now, he spends his days rolling around the grass in glee, Almrud said.

“He comes right up to the fence every time a staff member is present,” she said. “He seems very amenable to our presence.”

The tiger is eating well – a combination of chicken, humanely raised non-processed beef and whole prey complete with organs and bones. It appears that he was being fed chicken, which is what owners of exotic cats often feed them, but chicken alone does not provide the complete nutrition they need to thrive, Almrud said.

In addition, caregivers are tasked with keeping the tiger mentally stimulated by creating “pretend hunting” games and rotating him through different areas so he has access to new smells and environments to explore.

“He seems to happy and content,” Almrud said. “Our staff is just falling in love with him.”