It’s been a crazy ride with years worth of GIF posts and hundreds of followers - you guys are the best and I love you all. It’s been an unbelievable time.
My nannying jobs have come to an end and although I could keep posting I’d hate to have NannySeekingSanity die a slow death due to inactivity or neglect! I’ll be keeping the many pages up for everyone’s enjoyment but no new posts are coming. I know, it’s breaking my heart too!
It does crack me up that Helena Bonham Carter said that when she was in her fairy godmother attire, she had about 400 LED lights in her dress and 50 AAs “up my bum” and had to be “switched on” for each take.
I asked my friend which Disney princess to draw, and she said Cinderella. I did the sketch without a reference, and only forgot the hip poofs, so not bad. I double checked before inking and here it is! Classic look, obviously. Cinderella with side bangs? ew.
not a lot of old-ass movies hold up in terms of comedy but sleeping beauty is fucking hilarious. “this is the 14th century.” “that’s because it’s on you dear.” the king at the end being confused af. fucking amazing
ok yeah im watching it again and nobody ever points out but. when merryweather says “you can’t sew and she’s never cooked” that like highkey implies that merryweather was the one in charge of actually taking care of the fucking kid which is hysterical. if merryweather was the main parental figure it’s a wonder aurora isn’t down for murder 24/7
see it’s easy to say “flora fauna and merryweather are a polyam couple” but tbh i think just flora and fauna are married, they both seem vaguely maternal towards merryweather, who in turn seems a lot younger and less experienced. so i have the headcanon that over in the fae realm these two were put in charge of training merryweather as their fae apprentice or whatever which somehow makes “merryweather was the one to take care of aurora” even FUNNIER. imagine you’re trying to train under these two powerful fairies and then before you know it you’re in the middle of the woods raising a baby and it turns out that without their wands your mentors are useless lesbians who don’t know how to cook. no wonder she’s so pissed all the time
i never liked the criticism that “aurora doesn’t do anything she only has like 10 lines that’s not #feminist” because. the main characters of the movie are the fairies, she just happens to get marketed more nowadays cause of the disney princess lineup, if you actually watch the movie it’s clear she’s not the protagonist, neither is phillip, i think he has roughly equal screentime to her. gender equality they’re both useless
but anyway when disney was doing that thing where they made one-shitbillion sequels they have serious untapped potential in post-movie aurora main character. because listen. listen. first of all she went through the most wild life-changing shit all in like two hours so she’s gonna be dealing with the fallout from that
but more importantly. girl was raised in the WOODS. she runs around barefoot petting wild animals and eating shit she picked up off the ground. she now lives in a castle as the future monarch. WHERE is my comedy sequel about that. where the FUCK is it. where is my scene of the servants and royals like “we’re so happy our beloved, perfect princess is finally back :)” and then she walks in covered in mud, smelling like riverwater, carrying a live fish and saying “i caught dinner” phillip sees nothing wrong with this
prince phillip is quietly and intensely goddamn grateful that he managed to be the first man aurora ever saw because like she is the most incredible woman he’s ever seen in the entire world and he’s a dude that hangs out in the woods talking to his horse which is also her favourite activity
like, their parents are all very smug at what a great love match they’ve made in hooking their kids up together somehow–there was a dragon involved? ok??–except it turns out that the reason they get along so fucking well is they’re snarky little shits with no tact and less patience who spend as much time as humanly possible ditching out on court duties to fuck around in the woods
the kings and queens can only hope that the prince and princess are literallyfucking around in those woods, because at this rate their only hope for a halfway functional heir to the throne is going to be kidnapping their own grandchildren
Why is it so hard to believe that a princess would lie?
No one entertains the idea that the new tax is for the purpose they claim. The king lies, the streets remain potted with holes, and we all knew this would happen.
Dukes and Duchesses and princes? Do you trust their words more?
No.
So why do you trust hers?
Is it because she’s a merchant’s daughter, and not a highborn girl of status and power?
Tell me, do you really trust the wealthy shopkeeper to give you the most of your money’s worth?
I thought not.
You trust her story because you want to. I get that, it is quite the tale. I know my words will fall on deaf ears, but I cannot go forever without telling it. Princess who’s love would have me executed or not.
Wenever called her Cinderella.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Ella. Ella was the name of my new sister. She was younger than Anastasia, but older than me. I was excited to meet her. She was not excited to meet us.
The first night in the new house (It was an extravagant place, then before we’d gotten used to it, it had stairs!), Ella shut herself in her rooms for dinner, then breakfast, then was coaxed out by her father for lunch. Her eyes were puffy but she still leveled us with a glare that felt like a drafty window.
Ella did not want us here.
“Give her time,” Mother had told us, “Her mother passed away recently, this is a big change.”
So we gave her time. Two years should’ve been enough to dull the hostility, but when I’m pranked so viscously, I retaliate. I regret it a bit now, it was childish, but I don’t think I would’ve ever done anything differently. See, Ella’s father, the man I should call my papa like she did, didn’t believe Ella could do wrong. I could tell him that she’d put rotten egg in my shoe, but Ella wouldn’t do that, it must’ve been Anastasia, if I wasn’t lying. So I fought back in my own way, and got punished for it more often than not.
Two years later, and we were just as much enemies as Ella had expected of us.
Then Ella’s doting father died.
Here’s the beginning of her story, she “Became a servant in her own house,” right? Honestly, I think she actually thinks that’s how it happened.
Context, Ella, is important.
Mother didn’t appear to grieve (She did, of course, but Ella never learned to read my mother’s face.) Mother couldn’t afford to waist time lounging with her tears, we were living in a house we couldn’t afford. So Anastasia sat at the table and started embroidering for hours, Mother and I ripped the useless flowers from the garden and planted the dye plants we knew so well. We secured an income to keep the warm, draft-less building. Mother tried to remarry (yet again), but some nasty rumors of poison kept the husbands away. I still wonder if Ella, the charismatic socialite, had something to do with them.
We couldn’t afford to keep servants, but we knew how to clean and cook, and do all the things we did before. Ella did not.
I do wonder if our work all went unnoticed. Did she really not care that I made dinner, because of how horrendous it was to was dishes? She says now, that we all lounged around and did nothing. Well, Ella, maybe its because I stuck my hand in the laundry water and scrubbed instead of swishing it around hoping the dirt wouldn’t get on me!
It does not take that long to do simple chores if you dig in and do them!
(And before you try to say it, we did teach her how. But the washboard chipped a nail and was then onward unusable.)
Mere months of this, oh, that’s right, Ella doesn’t use the correct dates in her tale, No.
This didn’t go on for six years, like she’d have you believe. Her father hadn’t been in the ground for a year when the ball’s invitation came.
I wish it had been longer.
She would’ve figured chores out and had a bit of free time. Then, maybe she would be content to not ruin us.
I think you can figure the rest of the story out. I dyed fabric, Anastasia embroidered, and Mother stitched dresses together for all three of us. Ella’s didn’t meet her standards and she wore something from an old chest of her mother’s. It had been a beautiful gown, I could imagine a fairy stitching it.
The party came and went, we had fun and Ella had a hook in the prince. The envoy came to collect her a week later, and she’d had soot on her fingers from scrubbing the fireplace.
That was the first and last time I’d ever see Cinderella.
