#how to train your brain

[futuretrendsetter1977]

Guess the Logo Quiz | Can You Guess the 100 Logos? Ultimate Logo Quiz Ch...

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[neytui]

Child of the sun, doomed to burn so intense that he will consume himself to ashes

[seafoamdew]

I swear I couldn’t love you more than I do right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow.

[loversinthebodega]

MANIFESTING CHALLENGE : MAGNETIZE SOMETHING INTO YOUR LIFE IN 48HRS

[sleepyskydraws]

Inktober day 18 - Saddle

[thesinglesock]

my old How to Train your Dragon obsession suddenly re-emerging now, after I've spent years learning about Historical Viking Clothing and Crafts is great actually cause I get to apply the Fun History Knowledge to my favorite blorbos, and now I have some very specific scenarios.

in Viking culture, gift giving was a big complicated very significant thing. And one gift that was Especially Significant was that of a New Shirt. Women would propose to the guy they wanted to marry by making him a brand new linen shirt. I could go on for several pages about what that tells us about viking culture, gender roles, and also the extremely fun ways viking age stories used "gifting a shirt" as a symbol in romantic stories, but I'll restrain myself. This post is about How to Train your Dragon.

Astrid Hofferson can't sew. There's no way. Girl spent her whole life training to be a warrior, she has not had the time or patience to sit down and learn to sew (even though it involves a whole lot of stabbing things with a sharp object). I mean even her own clothes are made with minimal amounts of sewing (a needlebound tank top and some furs wrapped around her arms instead of sleeves).

Hiccup Haddock Horrendus III, on the other hand, knows how to sew. Sure he mostly works with metal and leather, but leatherwork requires sewing. I'm pretty sure I can find actual footage of him using a needle. Also his clothes are nicely sewn, and since he grew up without a mum, and his dad is a very busy man, he must have made at least parts of his outfit himself.

So my question is: how did they ever get engaged. How did that proposal go? Did Astrid suffer through learning a new skill so she could spend months of her life painstakingly stitching together the Worst Shirt Ever Made? I imagine her rage quitting after she has to undo that one seam for a fourth time, and in true Astrid fashion, just chucking it at Hiccup with full force when he walks into the room.

or! would Hiccup defy Viking Gender Norms because he gets that Astrid has no interest in sewing? and then he gets it into his head that it has to be the most elaborate shirt on the whole island cause it's for his girlfriend and he can't even remember ever seeing her in a nice shirt before? and that's a shame cause she deserves to have nice things! And he overthinks every choice along the way because what if she hates it???? But ofc it turns out really nice and she adores it.

[sekhmetpaws]

Once more thinking about something that permanently altered my brain's chemistry and the way I see life and I think I should share it here, even if no one is going to see. In the How to Train Your Dragon book series, there is a scene where Hiccup faces an enemy who owns an axe that has two sides, one that is golden and shiny, the other that is blackened, bloody and rusty. He would throw the axe in the air and make decisions depending on which side it would land on. Said axe eventually is used to decide Hiccup's fate. However, despite being trapped by the narrative in many ways, Hiccup is the protagonist of his own destiny. He reaches for the axe as it falls, and turns it himself so it lands on the golden side. Whether the axe was going to land on the gold or the dark side originally is irrelevant. He chooses to be alive and be free. Every time I go through a difficult moment, as I am right now, I think about this scene, as silly as it may be.

I am allowed to grab the destiny axe. And so are you.

[httyd-art-requests]

Do you think we could get an Ace dragon? :P Maybe a Stormcutter or Nadder but whatever you think would fit

I always thought Nadders and Scuttleclaws might be related species, and since Aces and Aros are very much brothers in arms...

Dragons #93 / #94 - Ace Nadder / Aro Scuttleclaw

(I talk in tags!)

Requests are currently closed!

[hermesserpent-stuff]

silly idea! So the vikings had a varied view of death with a multitude of locations for souls to end up.

What if Hiccup, especially when he was younger, assumed that his soul would not end up with the rest of his tribe.

Valhalla is for warriors, especially those that died in battle. a few might be chosen by freyja to go to Fólkvangr

and hiccup assumes he will end up in Helheim, which isn't terrible but it is separate from his family and tribe forever. or maybe he worried about being sent to Niflheim some times given how negatively his tribe speaks of him all the time before toothless

[wickedcriminal]

Please do not blame the story. The story cannot help itself. We do not realize it at the time, but sometimes the story we are all a part of is not just a story about vikings and islands and dragons. It is a story about growing up. And one of the things about growing up, one of the inescapable, inevitable laws, is that one day...

One day...

One day...

It is going to happen.

I'm sorry, but it's true.

Belated ninth of Doomsday! ☠️

[pitske]

they occupy my mind

[toothbrushfingers]

just found out that this bitch is only 19

which means this bitch is only 22

tell me why i thought he was older

[neytui]

Heyyyy........

[notemaker]

I’d like to think that rather be named The Dragon Conqueror, Hiccup would prefer the title The Dragon Smith. It quite suits him.

[tennessoui]

wip wednesday

(but where i got 2k into 3 different projects and dropped them all to write a silly gffa oneshot about the jedi thinking anakin was married to obi-wan)

When Anakin decides that he must tell the Jedi Council about his marriage, the whole thing has painfully little to do with his wife.  Really, it’s all just the perfect storm.  It’s a series of coincidences and conjoined events so convoluted and instantenous, stacked one on top of another in rapid fire, that Anakin’s head hasn’t even fully wrapped around one before he must begin to process another.  And Anakin’s always been pretty great at multi-tasking, but not when it comes to the thornier, immaterial kinds of things.  Give him four droids in need of fixing, a pod-engine that’s making a stubborn clurk-claank sound, and a recipe to make for dinner, and he can do it all at the same time. Give him a disappointed former master, a distant, angry wife, and a rebellious padawan, and his brain has a tendency to just sort of stall to a halt. So what it really all boils down to is that Anakin has had a rough couple of days, and he’s spent most of that time sleepless and pacing around his quarters.  All because four days ago, they’d gotten word that Obi-Wan’s ship had been shot down in a dog fight on some Mid Rim planet Anakin’s never heard of in his life. Allegedly, the man had been recovered alive and healthy, but the crash must have knocked his ability to answer a kriffing comm call straight out of his master’s head, because Anakin hasn’t actually heard from him since he was downed. It’s been four days in total, three and a half since he was recovered. It’s all bordering on unacceptable, but Anakin knows he can’t personally fly out to Obi-Wan’s forces—if only because he has been assigned duties at the Temple and to leave the planet would be to abandon his post, and he doesn’t want to assume that his master is so bedridden that he can’t get up, yell at him, and drag him by his ear back to the Council. And he would be assuming, because he hasn’t heard from him at all. Which is why he’s here, walking back and forth in the living area of his quarters, from the threshold of the door to the threshold of Obi-Wan’s sleeping quarters. Over and over and over again as his mind spins in circles akin to that of a whirlpool: he’s fine and he’s alive and he’s been found and he’s fine and he’s alive and even if he lost both of his arms, surely he could use his nose to answer his fucking comm but he’s fine and he’s alive or I would have been fucking told about it so he’s fine and he’s—