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Alysa Liu performs to Promise at the 2025 US National Championships, placing first in the short program with 76.36 points. This is her first national championships since her retirement from competition in 2022. Liu was a 2-time National Champion in 2019 and 2020.

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the featheringtons are legitimately my favorite family. watching Philippa and the butterflies at the end gave me such a rush of pride. portia featherington is such a fierce mama bear and someone better write her a freaking love story bc she deserves it after all she's done for that family like literally to see her walls start coming down and watching her put herself first after she's spent so many years working to protect her daughters! SOMEONE BETTER WRITE THIS

The true love story of season 3 was Colin and Penelope.

No, it wasn't.

The true love story was Eloise and Penelope.

No, it wasn't.

The true redemption was Cressida's.

No, it wasn't.

The true redemption was Penelope's.

No, it wasn't.

The true redemption and love story was the Featherington girls.

Watching Portia learn to believe in love just by watching Polin. Watching Phillipa being protective of Penelope. Watching Prudence being proud of Penelope. Their redemption and transformation from the careless mom and mean sisters to loving, supportive and proud family was the most perfect story this season has offered in all possible ways.

"Time for us to do better."

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anthony actually lost brain cells that were working overtime before he met kate but its ok he deserves it

2x01 I 2x08 I 3x07

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Nothing will ever make me laugh as hard as realising by the time these fuckers get a chaperone she's already pregnant

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The whole Barbie movie I was just saying

“Oh Allan’s such a malewife!”

“Such a cute silly guy”

“He’s adorable,he’s my favorite”

And then I saw him beat the fuck outta all those construction kens and I went fucking nuts for that man

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a meditation on life right now

As someone who walks through New York City basically every weekend, the good, bad, and the ugly of city life has been imprinted into my mind. It's easy to compare my walks through Bowling Green to the previous summers. It's easy to compare the corner by the Penn Station Krispy Kreme and the eeriness of the Subway to a pre-COVID time. All around me, juxtaposed images of the "before and after" strike me in the chest. The echoes of street busking way into the night while waiting for the C-line to pick me up is replaced by deafening silence these days. A father clutches the hand of his five-year-old daughter and looks into the train car before boarding, making sure to avoid the corner and stand by the door. The emptiness of the Subway brings to mind the fear that most recoil with when I mention New York City these days. Nowadays, even native New Yorkers are living in a constant state of fear as they watch crime rates tick up and help stop. I'm saddened by the fact that it seems like fear rules the current state of the world— that the louder people scream for help, the less people listen. Because people are scared of the consequences; scared of reality; scared of dealing with things they've never had to deal with before. The worldwide pandemic has exposed a housing crisis, and a poverty crisis, and a scaffolding of racism, system after system toppling like dominoes. The economic and social effects of the pandemic have left many in terror. Avoid taking the Subway at night alone. I cling to the pepper spray in my pocket and speedwalk to my destination not daring to make eye contact.

All the while, I wonder when I became so fearful of the place that I used to love. New York City used to mean laughter in Times Square, twinkling lights of Bryant Park, and the scent of fresh bread wafting from the bakery down the street of my parents' office. It meant dancing in the street and greasy hot dogs. It meant dropping off a donut by the homeless man and his dog (I think it's a terrier) on the corner by Essen It meant offering to buy a burger for the kid staring through the McDonald's window. Flashback to this poem I wrote in 7th grade about the incident.

Rather than that, when I look around, I see the anxieties and the wondering minds that crowd the street. I see the cloud of gray that has flown over the lights of Time Square, and I hear the cussing between a homeless man and an official. I know that everyone person is dealing with such change in their own way, and there isn't much I can do. The fact that I cannot fix anything is what bothers me. Because this is all so much greater than me, and what I am currently capable of. How can I soothe your anxieties and fears? How can I fix racism? How can I fix injustice?

At the same time, these issues have been percolating under the veneer that is Times Square billboards, and perhaps it is for the best that I have become aware of it, because I am now listening more deeply, and caring more deeply, and feeling so much more. I do what I can. I go to the food bank to package food, and I donate what I can. I smile to people on the street. I speak up when I hear something hurtful. I continue to remember the good, not just about the city, but about people, hoping that some tiny bit will help.

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it's a cold winter day, blistering wind shaking the roots of my house, and the tv is crackling from the intensity of the olympics -- february 13, 2014.

i fell in love with figure skating over a decade ago when I first laced up my pair of Riedell boots, pretending to be Sasha Cohen circa her 2004 “Swan Lake” program. I would wake up at 5:30 a.m, practice my footwork before school, and change in the car on the way to school. on the weekends I would once again wake up at the crack of dawn to head to the arena, grinding out spins and jumps. in the fall of 2013, i had just transferred to a new school. i was in second grade and the only new kid; needless to say, i didn't have much going for me... not socially anyways. i found solace in the foot cramps, the shivers, and the frost that dusted my clothes after every practice. it was a place that i could just be. since quitting the sport a couple years ago, my love for the sport has somehow continued to grow. i remember the 2014 sochi olympics almost too vividly. yulia lipnitskaia as in the girl in the red coat, mao asada landing her triple axel to rachmaninoff, the kim yuna/adelina sotnikova drama, and most of all-- parisienne walkways.

that's where it all started for him, for me, and for the world. amidst the tears of what has become of the womens' figure skating world, i started to discover unimaginable joy in watching the mens' event. jason brown's endless split jumps, and even now yumi kagiyama's talent, continue to bring me smiles whenever i need one. the confidence, the aura, the little smirk and flick of the hand. i can't even begin to describe how those little flairs are etched into my mind, little film strips ready to replay at any moment.

so i woke up to a barrage of messages: 'I'M IN TEARS....' , 'KING' and others. at first i felt nothing. i couldn't allow myself to feel anything. does it somehow feel selfish to mourn someone that you have never even spoken to, heard, or otherwise known? and yet i mourn for the potential he still holds and the pain that has cut that short. the truth that your youth is fleeting is one that is painful to grasp. yuzu's body has become a battleground between beautiful dreams and broken bones.

we may never see another figure skater like yuzuru hanyu. he is history. he is exceedingly brave in everything he does. he is brave in understanding when to stop. and that stopping doesn't necessarily mean goodbye. his retirement is a necessary change for him to continue growing away from the pressures of the competitive arena. this marks the end of an era. but also the beginning of a new one. congratulations yuzuru hanyu. and thank you.

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BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE.

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Alysa Liu-first US nationals vs last US nationals

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The more I think about it, the more I wonder why we don’t see more 15-17 year old skaters retiring a la Alysa (ie without an injury reason). It’s completely natural and normal for teens to change their minds about what they want to do with their lives. How many college kids do you see who enroll without a clue about what they want to study, after all? I was convinced for most of my life that I wanted to be a studio artist, until I actually got a taste of that (arts high school) and realized science was a better path for me. I’m sure plenty of you have similar experiences. Therefore, it’s kinda weird to me that people are making Alysa’s retirement from skating a scandalous thing when it clearly shows that she’s just changing her mind about where her life is headed. It’s fine. It’s normal. They’re a kid, let them figure out their life path on their own time!

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kate and anthony: *intense prolonged eye contact*

edwina: are you kidding me? right IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!

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Andrew???

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#daphne clocked it immediately

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my endless list of otps | kate and anthony

kathony + text posts

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Bridgerton Season Two  ⤐  Victory