#sassy reviews

[rambleonwaywardson]

Salt Water

A Clegan (Buck x Bucky) one-shot

Summary: The boys take a trip to the beach, where Bucky learns that Gale is a little afraid of the ocean.

Word Count: 3020

Author's Note: This idea came to me out of nowhere, and I decided I don't care if it feels accurate or not because I wanted to write fluff about it. I've also never posted a fic on tumblr before, but I'm waiting until I have a larger collection of Clegan one-shots before posting them under a single work on AO3 and wanted to put this out there somehow before that happens. My AO3 is also RambleOnWaywardSon.

—

Gale is perfectly comfortable reclining lazily on a beach towel, book in one hand while he props himself up with the other, when a towering shadow blocks his sun and causes him to glance up through his sunglasses. Bucky, even through the glaringly bright light of a cloudless July day, may be the most beautiful human Gale has ever seen on this planet. Water droplets like glittering crystals cling to the pale skin of his chest and abdomen and drip from salt-water damp curls. Even today, his smile gives the sun a run for its money. 

But he is, in fact, blocking Gale’s actual sun. And Gale had been perfectly happy in the sun, thanks very much. 

“You’re blocking the sun,” he says matter of factly. Even so, he earmarks the corner of his paperback and sets it beside him on his towel, full well knowing that Bucky, giving him this facial expression that somehow manages to mix ‘hurt but hopeful puppy’ with ‘giddy, plotting boyfriend,’ will not be easily deterred.

He would be correct.

“You’ve barely gotten in the water all afternoon. Why the hell did we come to the beach if we’re not gonna swim?” Bucky’s puppy dog smile turns to a pout, and Gale rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses as he glances Bucky up and down.

“You’ve been swimming.” 

“But you haven’t!” Bucky steps closer to Gale and grabs one of his hands, tugging insistently. “Come into the water with me,” Bucky says. 

Gale lets Bucky work for it for a second, but eventually, reluctantly, allows himself to be tugged to his feet. It beats the inevitable alternative where Bucky uses his – extremely slight though not insignificant – size advantage to drag Gale into the sand before throwing him over his shoulder. “Bucky,” he sighs, running a hand through his own dry hair. “I don’t know.”

“Why not?” Bucky whines. He tugs Gale’s hand again, and Gale indulges him until they reach the shallow tide of the ocean, water lapping peacefully at their feet. Gale feels the cool water splash his ankles, the soft and gritty sand nestling between and over his toes. He stops ankle-deep in the clear water, staring at the tiny fish that dart around him as the tide pulls them forward and back.

“See?” Bucky says. “You’re not gonna melt if you get a little water on you.”

Gale looks over at him. Bucky ignores the fact that he knows Gale is rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. Buck is sassy today. “I walked around in the water with you earlier,” Gale reminds him. “And no, I’m not the wicked witch of the west, thanks so much.”

Bucky ignores the last comment, practically having to physically force himself not to make some poorly executed joke about Gale, apparently, being a witch. A sassy witch. “You’ve been laying in the sun long enough,” he says instead, patting Gale’s cheek. This earns him another eye roll. Bucky doesn’t care. “You’re gonna burn your pretty face like that.”

“I will in the water, too.” Deadpan. Unamused.

“Gale,” Bucky pleads. “I wanna swim in the ocean with you. We don’t get to come to the beach every day, so can we please just make the most of it? For me?”

Gale sighs and looks down at his feet, shifts and presses into them until the sand is almost completely covering them, an anchor. Only when he feels Bucky drop his hand does he look up again, just in time to watch him walk away, without a word, into deeper water. Gale bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair again, trying to tamp down the feeling of abandonment rising between his ribs. This should not be such a big deal. This should not be so hard.

Once Bucky is a good few yards away, the water up to his thighs, he turns around, fully intent on calling Gale out on his bullshit. But he stops short. He doesn’t know what he really expected to see. Gale had been a little off -- difficult, sassy, John doesn’t really know — all day. But he did not expect to see Gale biting at his lip and staring down at the water around his ankles, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Bucky tilts his head and squints. 

When Gale hears splashing and glances up to see Bucky walking back towards him, wading through the waves, he feels the tight feeling in his chest begin to ebb. He drops his arms to his sides and straightens up, trying to seem nonchalant. Bucky doesn’t buy it. “Hey,” he says. He reaches out and grabs Gale’s hand in his again, this time insistence replaced with a gentleness that wasn’t there before. “It’s okay.” Gale just blinks at him, opens his mouth, closes it, looks down at his feet. “Gale,” Bucky says quietly. With his free hand, he tilts Gale’s chin up again, so he has to look at him. “You’re scared of the ocean?”

Gale shrugs uncomfortably. “Not a whole lot of ocean in Wyoming.” He’d always been a good swimmer, it’s just that he’d never had very positive experiences with the ocean itself – the unknown of it, the unknown in it, the tides, the salt water that tastes awful on his tongue.

Bucky smiles and shakes his head. “No,” he agrees. He lets go of Gale’s chin and brushes his fingers down his check just briefly, a thoughtless touch that's barely there. “Why did we come to the beach if you don’t like the ocean?”

Gale shrugs again. “You like it. Wanted to make you happy.”

Bucky about melts, and he’s not a melting type. At least, he wasn’t before he met Gale Cleven. He squeezes Gale’s hand tight and gently tugs again. Gale takes a step forward, then another. Bucky leads him a few yards out, where he’d been just a moment ago, where the water hits about mid thigh and the waves swell up to just below the waist. It’s here that he feels resistance pulling at his hand. When he turns to look at Gale, the other man is tugging back, his feet firmly planted in the rocky sand. He’s shaking his head. 

“Come on, Buck,” Bucky urges. “Just a little further.”

Gale shakes his head again. “This- This is good.”

Bucky turns a little more so he’s face to face with Gale and steps towards him, so close their noses almost touch. He takes Gale’s free hand in his, so he’s firmly holding both. “It’s okay,” he whispers. He starts slowly stepping backwards, pulling Gale along with him, and is relieved when the other man follows, unsure. Bucky glances behind him at the waves. The water is fairly calm today — Bucky is thankful for that now — but earlier in the day, here and there a wave would catch him by surprise. He doesn’t need any surprises with Gale. They just go slow, so very slow, one step at a time. 

By the time the water is at Gale’s midriff, splashing up towards his chest, he stops and shakes his head definitively. He will not, under any circumstances, go further than this. Bucky decides to take it. He decides that they don’t have to swim today. They can stand, float, whatever. His new task is simply to get Gale comfortable in the ocean that he loves. 

“Look at me, angel,” he says. He holds his breath for a second, worried the nickname will throw Gale off. He never really could figure out what to call Gale other than, well, Gale or Buck. Sometimes the nicknames he came up with were hit or miss — baby depended on the day; princess had earned him radio silence for about an hour, but he’d convinced himself that Gale just didn’t want to admit that he kinda liked it (he is most likely wrong but will not be deterred); darling was acceptable but how fucking boring; and sweetie was a very hard no.  Angel just kind of popped out now because, seriously, Gale looks so goddamn ethereal in the ocean sunlight, the highlights in his blond hair bright and glittering from the sea-spray. 

But Gale does look at him. He looks amused, but John can’t tell if his cheeks are tinged pink from the sun or because he’s blushing. Reaching a hand up to Gale’s face, he pushes the sunglasses up away from his eyes so they’re sitting on top of his head. “There you are,” he says. “Just keep your eyes on me.” He tugs Gale closer, so they’re nearly chest to chest, nose to nose. Bucky can feel Gale’s hair, which has grown just a little too long in the front, tickling his forehead as Gale looks back down at the water rising and falling around them. It’s not so clear anymore; he can no longer see what’s under the surface. “Gale, look at me.” 

Gale obeys, meeting Bucky’s eyes. He’s suddenly very aware of how close they are. “People are gonna look,” he mumbles.

“No one cares what anyone else is doing at the beach.”

“They might…”

“No,” Bucky reaffirms. “And to hell with them if they do. Just keep looking at me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Bucky wouldn’t admit it – it would just scare Gale off – but he secretly loves these little moments where he can be Gale’s safety. He can protect him, reassure him, let him know everything would be alright. Buck Cleven was always so in control, seemingly fearless. Bucky loves that he gets to see this side of him, the one that can be unsure, the one that needs some guidance. He likes that he’s the one Gale looks to for that. 

Bucky guides Gale’s hands up so they’re wrapped around his neck and shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he repeats. “We’re just gonna stand here, okay? You and me.” Then he reaches down behind Gale's legs and picks him up, convinces him to wrap his legs around his waist so now Bucky is fully holding him, lifting him higher out of the water so he doesn’t have to contend with the waves alone. 

“Bucky,” Gale starts to protest, immediately moving to disentangle his legs. He feels silly, a little too dependent. It goes against everything he tries to let the world see of himself, and everything he’s careful to ensure they don’t see.

Bucky holds tight to his waist though, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around Gale’s middle. “Just breathe, Gale. Just stay here with me.”

Gale hesitates, but nods and re-secures his legs around Bucky, leaning back in his firm embrace. The water makes him feel like he’s floating while the arms around his waist anchor him. He tries to focus on the sounds of seagulls soaring overhead, waves breaking over the sand, the distant buzz of a plane engine somewhere up above. The water is cool against his skin, leaving him almost cold where it splashes up and recedes again. Bucky’s body is warm and solid against his. He focuses on Bucky’s face, all warm eyes and a soft, encouraging smile. Gale lets that ground him, almost smiles back. 

But then a larger wave comes and smacks him in the bicep, knocking him off balance and causing his breath to hitch as he tightens his grip on Bucky and shuts his eyes tight. “Bucky!” He’s a little ashamed of how nervous his own voice sounds. 

Bucky just grins at him, though, totally unfazed. “I won’t let you go,” he promises. 

When Gale opens his eyes again and stares straight at Bucky, Bucky’s breath catches in his throat. He feels like a teenager with a crush, the way his stomach flips at having the undivided attention of someone who may very well be the most beautiful man in the world – definitely the most beautiful in Bucky’s world. When they had first allowed their friendship to turn into more, Bucky was terrified that he wasn’t cut out for commitment. He never had been before. He was a low stakes, one night, paint the town red kind of guy. And Gale, well, Gale was not. He deserved so much better than Bucky. Even now, Bucky still beats himself up too much about whether or not he’s good enough, but slowly, slowly, slowly his anxiety over it had started to fade. Now, staring into Gale’s eyes, taking in his beautiful face, his hair, running his hands up and down his slim waist, Bucky is awestruck. Not for the first time, he can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else again. It physically pains him how much he wants to spend his entire life with Gale. 

“What?” Gale asks, smiling a little shyly as he quirks an eyebrow at Bucky. 

“You’re beautiful,” Bucky blurts out. 

Gale’s smile grows. He opens his mouth to speak just as another wave comes and catches them off guard, spraying salt water into his face. He splutters and gags, trying to get the unwelcome taste off his tongue. Bucky can’t help but laugh. 

“‘S not funny,” Gale mumbles. 

Bucky surprises him by pressing their lips together for the briefest of moments, relishing in the taste of salt and sand mixed with Gale. “It’s a little funny.”

Gale rolls his eyes and unwraps one arm from around Bucky’s neck so he can check that his sunglasses are still safe atop his head before clinging on again. Bucky shifts him up an inch or two higher, a silent apology and an attempt to spare him from the bigger waves. 

“Are we done now?” Gale asks impatiently. “Can I go sit on the beach again?”

“No.”

Gale huffs and looks away from Bucky, out to the great ocean and the horizon beyond, even as his fingers play mindlessly with the wet hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck. “It is pretty, I’ll give you that.” When Bucky hums in agreement, Gale frowns. “Of course, I’d rather think that from where I was on the beach.”

Bucky lifts one hand to the side of Gale’s face, runs his fingers down his cheek and then presses his thumb to Gale’s bottom lip, which he’s still been worrying between his teeth. “You’re still nervous.”

“Yes John, I’m fucking nervous,” Gale snaps, and he immediately regrets it. Then he sighs, closes his eyes. The words rattle around in his brain like gunfire. “Sorry.”

Bucky barely reacts, though. He knows Gale doesn’t do well with nerves, or with being looked after, or really anything that shows him to be less in control than he wants everyone to think he is. “You’re doing great,” Bucky says. “Now what was that you were telling me earlier about how stars die? Fusion or something. All those smart things you know so much about.”

Gale glares at him, but there’s no more malice behind it. He looks more like a petulant child who doesn’t want to be coddled anymore. “I know what you’re doing,” he says. 

“And what am I doing?”

“Trying to distract me.”

“So what?” Bucky grins at him, and Gale can’t deny how much he loves that smile. How much he loves feeling their upper bodies pressed against each other as they just float. Or the way Bucky’s hand reassuringly strokes up and down his side as a silent I’m here, I’m with you, I won’t let you go. “Buck?” Bucky bumps their noses together, making Gale scoff. “Tell me about all your nerdy physics facts.”

So Gale does. He tells Bucky all about the life cycle of a star: the fact that the sun is made up of hydrogen and helium, and how hydrogen nuclei collide in a process called nuclear fusion to create helium and release energy, and how eventually the helium will start creating carbon and the star will become unstable, ejecting its outer layers into the cosmos like a fireball. Gale tells Bucky about all the types of stars and how they die in different ways to become different things — No Bucky, the sun will not become a black hole, sorry — and the fact that even the biggest stars eventually stop fusing when they inevitably create iron because they no longer have enough fuel to evade collapse. These are the stars that explode outward in a spectacular encore of literally stellar proportions, a supernova. 

All of this really is over Bucky’s head, but he’ll listen for hours if it means he gets a front row seat to Gale’s unfiltered excitement. The thing that catches his attention though is when Gale smiles at him, brushes his wet hair away from his face. “That’s where everything in the universe comes from, Bucky,” he says. “The Earth, moon, planets, the sun itself. You and me. We’re all made of star stuff.”

Bucky can’t look away from this amazing, beautiful man that he’s holding in his arms. He wants to make some comment about when did you become such a poet, but all that comes out is “That must be why you’re my entire universe.”

Gale’s expression somehow manages to be long-suffering and unamused but somehow so loving. A look that says you’re an idiot but you’re mine and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

“You doin' okay?” Bucky asks. 

Gale blinks at him, then looks down at the water again. One arm still around Bucky’s neck, he lets his other hand rest on the water’s surface, bobbing up and down with the waves. He finds the motion somehow satisfying, the physics of it as well as the repetitive rocking, the cooling feeling of water adhering to his skin. He has no idea how long they’ve been out here. “I’m fine,” he concedes.

“Maybe next time we can go out a little further,” Bucky says. “Ride the waves in.” Gale looks skeptical if not a little terrified, and Bucky can’t help but laugh. “Alright, that’s a no for now.”

“I think,” Gale starts softly. He pulls his sunglasses back over his eyes and bows his head, so his forehead is resting on Bucky’s as he tightens his grip on him once again. “I think I’m okay right here.” He feels safe, secure. And he finds he doesn’t mind admitting that. 

Bucky decides he’ll take it. He doesn’t need more right now. After all, he has his entire universe right here in his arms. 

[solradguy]

I thought the early 2000s "strong yet naked/mostly naked woman kept in her place by stronger, bigger, beast/monster or gang of racist caricatures" trope* was known by basically everyone but I mentioned it as a criticism of this older art book I'd flipped through recently to a friend and it turns out it isn't lol Maybe I've just read too many Heavy Metal issues... It used to be HORRIBLY inescapable in any sort of mature art scene back in the day lmao

*This trope is different from the pre-2000s one because the women usually look like they COULD fight back for at least a little bit whereas the previous trope had them be completely helpless damsels in distress

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

Based on your post @sassyassblog 😁:

P.S. I'm using the MonsterVerse Kaijus as humans since this is also from my GenAU MV Edition. So no worries.

Here's the scenario:

"Man..." thought Godzilla as he walked tiredly towards his mansion, "I need a quick nap..."

Turning around making sure no one was sneaking at him, he knelt down to the front door and snag a key he secretly kept from a carpet. He opened the door and enter before closing it shut.

The man took off his shoes and socks before putting it on a casket beside the door. His darkish black to navy blue hair is in mess due to the extreme heat back from where he work at a city and also in due course of his job. As usual, he often comes late at home since his wife, Mothra, usually is first to arrived home shortly before himself.

Still, she's not here, so maybe Godzilla need an extra free range of their cozy house. Once his wife arrived home, he smirked at the deal that he told her a few days ago.

He needs to arrange a few things.

It was already 5:15 PM, Godzilla thought about his best friends. Most likely, Rodan, Anguirus and Kong were sometimes having a sleepover with him (which Mothra denies it for their unruly manners, something that Godzilla feared for her anger), only for 2 days. Or even a week if there's an activity going around the mansion he and Mothra owned. Currently, Rodan had finally found a job as a chef from a local restaurant, Anguirus deliberately needed to pass an exam to be a history teacher, and Kong...well...he's still a policeman and work tirelessly to earn some savings for his adoptive deaf daughter Jia and her adoptive mother Ilene Andrews.

Success earns hardwork and support, that's something Mothra - yes, she is a science and art teacher - reminded them for their lives.

Anyway, just as Godzilla was about to head upstairs...

"LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKK AT ME~"

He jumped from a sudden breakout of a familiar voice that scared the shit of his pants. Well, whoever broke in to his home without permission shall get the beat out of their shit in no mercy, he swore it.

Instantly, the man heard a sound of a running water coming across the bathroom (the door was practically open slightly). Carefully not to make any noise, Godzilla tiptoed from the source, only for his eyes scanned from something he just ever seen in the entire motherfucking world.

"WHAT THE FU-"

"TELL ME WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATT YOU SEE~"

Standing in the middle of a shower is none other than RODAN!

By the looks of it, his back was on a curtains, showering by himself, and practically naked (well, half naked to be exact). The fiery red haired Mexican man didn't seem to bother that Godzilla was there peeping. In his hand was a brush used to scrub on a skin, preferrably the ones that Mothra used it.

Damn, of all places...

"AM I GOOOOOOOOOOOOOODD OR BAD~"

Godzilla had never been slack-jawed of how fucking awesome Rodan's singing voice is. I mean, he had seen Rodan singing crazily after drinking a shot too much back from their old times sake, which he and even Kong dragged him all because of his violent manner after having a fight with some unwanted men from a bar. But this one...

"Woah..." Godzilla breathed, "Rody's not so bad with that voice, I bet some girls would swoon over him if he was a celebrity."

"DON'T YOU JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDGGEE SO FAST~"

But as Rodan twirled around...

"Hey, hey, hey-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Rodan let out a mightiest girlish scream of the entire mansion, almost shook off the ass out of his confidence. His eyes wide as dinner plates when he saw Godzilla on the door peeping, who was indeed startled by the redhaired man's scream.

Knowing he is caught red-handed, and indeed naked, he covered himself with his arms and hands, purposely snagged a towel beside the sink and wrapped it around his waist, before marching towards Godzilla and slammed the door shut.

"What was that for, Rodan?!" Godzilla growled.

"Like indeed you are peeping me without knocking!" Rodan bites back.

"Oh really? Then you should've closed it before your bird-brain of yours!"

"You just entered my-our own house without texting me?!" Godzilla said angrily, "You know what happens when Mothra finds out just like what happened to you and Ghidorah!"

"That's in the past now, we'll never do it again! I promised!"

"Then what are you fucking doing here?!"

Rodan slowly opens the door with a dull expression...

"...I'm running out of water back from my apartment and I haven't pay a rent so..." He gave him a puppy eyes.

Oh great. Just fucking great.

Rodan had barely payed a rent just to avoid himself kicked out by the landowner. Many times, he would got himself into trouble, and Godzilla and Kong even needed to bail him out because of that.

Godzilla sighed heavily, massaging his temples just to avoid 10 times headache and all.

"Okay, fine! I'll gave you a cash."

Rodan beamed.

"But! I'm not taking any chances! You need to worked harder, and you're already hired as a chef. I'm counting on you, Rody."

"Gracias mi mejor amigo."

"Now hurry up before Mothra finds out and gonna beat you out of your daylights."

"Okay!"

"BTW, Rodan..." Godzilla leaned over the wall, "I didn't know you have a wonderful singing voice."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah, good thing nobody would notice your quite voice and good looks..."

"And that you are indeed a good singer."

Godzilla and Rodan are startled by another voice, because that voice was no other than Godzilla's wife and His Queen, Mothra.

Sweat trickled down their foreheads, seeing the expression of the white-haired woman...

"Now..."

Oh boy.....

Outside, infinite babblings and pleading were heard followed by a loud smack as Godzilla and Rodan are deserved to be punished.

But at the same time, Mothra quitely likes the singing voice of the red-haired man, but hated the fact that Rodan dared to enter their house without permission.

Lesson learned, Rodan, the Fire Demon.

~✦~

From @adm-starblitzsteel-4305

Also, the song Rodan sang in the bathroom was titled "Good Tonight" by Daniel Pemberton and Anthony Ramos from the movie The Bad Guys.

Also, my MV Rodan's voice actor is Anthony Ramos. I thought that would be fun since Ramos voiced Mr. Piranha. 😁

And I am still looking for MV Mothra's voice actress while my MV Godzilla's voice actor is Keith David.

Well anyway, have fun reading it!

😉

[thecryptidart1st]

So I am claiming ownership over FNAF now

[bumpscosity]

the trailer for the new garfield movie came out it looks so bad

[harpieisthecarpie]

why do so many videos discussing petty internet drama feel the need to tie it all into some moral lesson like they're auditioning to be an aesop's fable

you don't need to justify your life choices to me, I voluntarily clicked on this video, but perhaps by moralizing about the lives of strangers you are being Worse

[dragon-tamer-1]

Happy birthday, @jann-the-bean!! I drew your girl, Mocha!! Hope you have a lovely day, you sweet bean!

[babisawyer]

finally got to watch scream 5 since 6 is now up for streaming worst experience of my life.

[clementine-kesh]

why is every review on goodreads written like the reviewer stepped out of a portal from 2014 tumblr

[ficsforeren]

Oh. My. God. I just binge read blissful ignorance and im fucking DYING. I am literally rolling around and screaming in my bed. That was singlehandedly THE MOST AMAZING FIC SERIES IVE EVER FUCKING READ! The characters mwah. The dialogue, I mean- true artistry. Like how did you put so much feelings into literal PORN I DONT UNDERSTAND THIS MUCH BE WITCHCRAFT! ugh the smut girl- let's just say imma be thinking about this for the rest of my life. You are truly the most talented person on this hunk of floating rock. The twists, the turns, the perfect balance- I- can't express how you changed my life forever from this. Ive been in this Fandom and community for so many years. I've read thousand of fanfics. And yours? Fucking blows them out of the water. I don't even have the words to thank you. I'm dead on the floor this was so hot and so well written and had my heart (and my pussy) enthralled. I fucking love you. Thank you, from: your most devoted delinquent

DUDE OMFG YOUR COMPLIMENT IS TOO MUCHHHHH AAAAA COME HERE YOU PRECIOUS LITTLE BEAN

sharing this love with my co-writer aleks @princess-jaeger because chapter 3 was still the filthiest, hottest, most satisfying threesome I've ever read to this day

[robinreadscomics]

batman #494

just some a+ exasperated/sassy alfred mugging here. incredible.

what up gay nerds!!

so robin escapes from the sewer while a weary batman tries to get a bit of rest back at wayne manor. the two lick their wounds & argue (again) in the batcave, but batman is soon suiting back up & getting ready to head back out. i just love alfred in this scene, as there's a panel of him foregrounded just sort of throwing his hands up in sassy frustration, which is just literally always a top tier alfred mood.

this issue also sees joker & scarecrow teaming up, which is a frightening proposition indeed, and will position them for their role later in the story.

definitely a transition issue, but one with a lot of interesting stuff going on in it.

b-rank

[a-member-of-minuteswithmandm]

(This is gonna sound crazy but I feel like YouTube shadow banned our last video? It's about Ted Lasso and it's literally our worst performing video ever so if you wanna help some sisters out - please watch and like/subscribe/comment on our video.......no idea why it's doing so poorly 🙁)

[happybookowl2]

Book Review - The Phoenix Ballroom by Ruth Hogan

Little note: I received an ARC from a contest, but I hadn't gotten around to reading it until now, but all opinions are my own.

A lovely, cozy read that brings together so many lonely characters into one warm family. I adored Venetia and her spunk, completely refusing to be labeled into the elderly and helpless box just because of her age. Liberty and the slow but gradual way she found her own voice instead of letting things pass her by. Swan was absolutely hilarious, I've never thought I would see a person so much like the bird, but that older lady was an absolute hoot but also sweet in her own way too. Colin Firth, the rescued German Shepherd, stole my heart though with his fuzziness. The only reason I give this 4 stars instead of 5 is because I greatly disliked the solution to the secret left behind by Venetia's departed husband, which led to a secret life and relationship he held for years, and the whole thing felt a little unnecessary and like someone was checking off a box to make sure that certain themes were included, but still a great read. 

[bumpscosity]

Oh yeah I have rare bts footage of s1 of always sunny btw. I can’t post it bc it’s legally fx’s and I don’t wanna get into trouble but just know i do

Edit SOMEONE ELSE HAS THEM TOO

[sassysilversisters]

Kitchen Soap Dispenser Review by Sassy Silve Sisters 6/27/23

[familyabolisher]

I've walked past the Barbie branded selfie booth, sat through the reel of old commercials that precede the previews, and watched Margot Robbie learn to cry, and I’m still not sure what “doing the thing and subverting the thing,” which Greta Gerwig claimed as the achievement of Barbie in a recent New York Times Magazine profile, could possibly mean. This was the second Gerwig profile the magazine has run. I wrote the first one, in 2017, which in hindsight appears like a warning shot in a publicity campaign that has cemented Gerwig’s reputation as so charming and pure of heart that any choice (we used to call them compromises) she makes is justified, a priori, by her innocence. This is a strange position for an adult to occupy, especially when the two-hour piece of branded content she is currently promoting hinges on a character who discovers that her own innocence is the false product of a fallen world. But—spoiler alert!—the point of Barbie’s “hero’s journey” is less to reconcile Barbie to death than to reconcile the viewer to culture in the age of IP.

“Doing the thing and subverting the thing”: I haven’t finished working out the details, but I think the rough translation would be Getting rich and not feeling feel bad about it. (Or, for the viewer: Having a good time and not feeling bad about it.) One must labor under a rather reduced sense of the word “subvert” to be impressed with poking loving fun at product misfires such as Midge (the pregnant Barbie), Tanner (the dog who poops), and the Ken with the earring, especially given that the value of all these collectors’ items has, presumably, not decreased since the film opened. Barbie may feature a sassy tween sternly informing Robbie’s Stereotypical Barbie that the tiny-waisted top-heavy billion-dollar business she represents has made girls “feel bad” about themselves, but if anyone uttered the word “anorexia,” I missed it. (There was a reason Todd Haynes told the story of Karen Carpenter’s life and death with Barbies, and it wasn’t because an uncanny piece of molded plastic has the magical power to resolve the contradictions of girlhood and global capitalism.) There’s a bit about Robbie going back into a box in the Mattel boardroom, but Barbies aren’t made in an executive suite; they come from factories in China. On the one hand, it’s weird for a film about a real-world commodity to unfold wholly in the realm of ideas and feelings, but then again, that’s pretty much the definition of branding. Mattel doesn’t care if we buy Barbie dolls—they’re happy to put the word “Barbie” on sunglasses and T-shirts, or license clips from the movie for an ad for Google. OK, here’s my review: When Gerwig first visited Mattel HQ in October 2019, the company’s stock was trading at less than twelve dollars a share. Today the price is $21.40. 

Christine Smallwood, Who Was Barbie?