#I was forever changed

[ambeauty]

“And what if I just like completely melt… fuck up and fail?”

“I won’t let you.”

Do you know how incredibly endearing it is for Carmen to say that he won’t let Sydney fail? That he will be her strength when she feels weak?!?! That he will help carry her burdens. That he will be what she needs in order to succeed. This declaration of unwavering support is so important for Sydney who has put everything she has into The Bear.

On top of that, the way he’s looking down at her as he says “I won’t let you.” And she’s looking away from him and he’s staring at her with the most OBVIOUS look of longing I have ever seen in my life. And his face doesn’t change once she finally looks at him and he nods his head no, as a promise.

And I think this is my favorite moment from that conversation. At least as it stands today. I’m a real sap for someone taking burdens from another. In that moment, Carmy is promising to love Sydney in her love language. He’s promising to take care of her like how she takes care of others. 🥹

[uwanosorade]

Source

truly connected people on a staggering level. If you engage with anime, even if you dont like dbz, chances are the anime you like got to you because of dbz's popularity. If you like jrpgs, even if you've never played dragon quest, the games you do love almost certainly became a thing because someone in the 80s loved dragon quest. 68 is way too young but genuinely what a towering legacy.

[anxiouslittlecarrot]

I want everybody who’s calling Ken a Trophy Husband to know that he’s actually a Trophy Boyfriend, because when Ruth Handler invented Ken in the 1960s, she was adamant that he would never marry her and instead be her “handsome steady”, so that Barbie remained a figure of independence for the little girls and was never put in the position of housewife.

Her house is hers. She bought it and furnished it with money she made in her own job. In STEM, in politics, in healthcare, in fashion, in academy, in customer service. Her credit card is in her name (women in the US couldn’t have their own regardless of marital status until 1974). And it’s all pink and fashionable because femininity and badassness aren’t mutually exclusive. No matter who you are, you can be anything.

That’s why Barbie’s slogan is “you can be anything”. Teaching these ideals to little girls is why Barbie was created. Empowering women and empowering femininity is the original meaning of the Barbie doll. It’s not that you have to be all this to be a woman, but if you are all or some of this, you too are awesome.

And somehow pop culture deliberately changed that narrative. Sexualised, bimbofied, and villainised her, when she actually isn’t responsible for the impossible beauty standards — people are, she’s just a stylised, not-to-scale toy like most others.

Men are frothing because he’s just Ken and I guess they were expecting her to be just Barbie, but that’s exactly what Ken is. Canonically. A badass woman’s himbo boyfriend.

This movie has the potential to radically change the way we collectively see Barbie into what Ruth Handler originally intended, I’m so very excited

[kimdokjas]

though the movie might be cancelled, yuri on ice will live forever in our hearts. thank you yoi fandom, it's been real ♡

[wildflowercryptid]

underappreciated marcille bit : her being a gay lil hater and glaring at toshiro whenever he gets flustered over falin

[hrokkall]

"Sad Cat Poem" by Spencer Madsen

[hummise]

do you ever just

[the line is from a fic by @/Rauchendes_GNU on ao3]

[brokenrecordonrepeat]

— our ending —

sad “i can’t have you”

just broke me beyond repair

you could have had me

[ l.p. ]

[tea-time221]

i, too, would like my head to be cushioned by wyll ravengard's bosom :3

throws these things into a cooking pot and blows up the kitchen

i cant stop drawing them grrrgrrrrrrrrrrr GRAAAAARARARRRRRRGHHHH

[claraoswalds]

They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures. They're being controlled by a relay device in the roof, which would be a great big problem if I didn't have this. So, I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process, but don't worry about me. No, you go home. Go on. Go and have your lovely beans on toast.

HAPPY 19TH ANNIVERSARY! (March 26, 2005)

[cowardlykrow]

A conversation between my mother and sister

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[twistedappletree]

mfw i’m only 16 and have single-handedly made several of the most powerful cultivators cry simply by calling them stupid and telling a few “yo mama” jokes without any repercussions from the elders of my own clan who let me do/say whatever the hell i want because they’ve given up on trying to stop me

[atlcscp]

First time drawing the sillies pleasce excuse the inconsistencies </3 ^_^

[sentient-stove]

He could already see how that conversation would go over. Danny would go ‘hey, sorry me and my parents killed one of your adopted wards, twas an accident really, some twat of an investor turned on the ecto-collider while he was standing in it and Timothy got fried with enough radiation to mutate a steak back into the cow. Oopsies.’

And then Bruce mcFucking Wayne would throw him in Blackgate for murder before Danny got the chance to explain that hey, no, the guy isn’t dead, the Fentons just accidentally turned another teenager into a half dead abomination yippee. Pack it up cause the government absolutely loved the concept of debating if it was vivisection or dissection when cutting open a halfa. Mr. Wayne was pretty wealthy though so maybe Tim wasn’t gonna have to worry about the finer definitions on vivi vs dissect? Rich people paid off the government all the time, there was a reason why people like Vlad and Lex Luthor got away with so much bullshit.

He prodded the body with a foot. Tim did not so much as twitch.

There was the slow pulse of a core though, slower than the mock heartbeat that Danny’s core liked to hover at, and Tim did appear to be breathing- as much as a half dead person could- so Danny wasn’t too concerned about the unconsciousness quite yet. Once Mom was back with the Ecto-Dejecto then they could stick Tim and he’d be about as right as acid rain. Minus the whole,, traumatizing death and all that.

[keynil]

i speedran this in 5mins purely bc it's extremely important to me that zoro knows how to braid (definitely not bc i remembered how i found out i was gay)