isnt it weird how with girls their boob size is out in the open and you know what youre up against from the start but with guys you have 0 indication of the size of their penis until the pants come off
except when you don’t wear your underwear
Make me stop looking at it
oh mY GOD
let me just
Our fandom is ready.
*Doctor Who fandom cracking knuckles in the back ground*
Backup has arrived, not that you need it.
*Sherlockians come back from the dead with a riding crop in hand*
We’ll be ready to perform post-mortems on the dead bodies left in the aftermath of the fight
supernatural fandom is angry and we brought our older sisters too
Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let them know.
"[With Elsa, it] definitely was intentional to show anxiety and depression." - JENNIFER LEE (x)
THIS IS ONE OF THE REASONS THIS MOVIE IS SO IMPORTANT.
Like yes, I agree with the major criticisms going around tumblr re: racism and heteronormativity and not enough major female characters YES, they’re all valid points. I just don’t understand the bloodlust towards Frozen more than, say, Tangled. These issues aren’t unique to this movie; they’re widespread societal problems and that leaks into our media. It can still be a good/enjoyable movie. I see you SJWers enjoying Aladdin at the same time and that shit’s racist as hell. Just because something has problematic elements doesn’t make it bad.
BUT THIS CHARACTER IS SO FUCKING IMPORTANT. Because little girls are obsessed with her, they’re latching on to her. Little girls love Elsa. And she’s a Disney Princess with major neuroses. (I know this is Anna’s story but Elsa’s more popular.) And it shows a main female character with major anxiety and depression issues, and it shows her as a powerful, strong, loving person around those issues, and it shows her as an incredibly positive character.
A lot of people are saying that the story would’ve been better if Elsa’d been the antagonist, and she was originally intended to be until that changed in development. And you know what, it’s for the best because she’s a protagonist with mental issues. It’s easy and common to give those to a villain. Villains are twisted and they hurt people because they’re not Good People. Disney Princesses might not be perfect but they’re damn close to it and their faults are charming and cute and not crippling. Elsa’s issues and her failure to deal with them are crippling.
So many teens and adults have identified with her issues, and seeing them portrayed in a positive and beloved character is so fucking important, because children see that not just scary weirdos have mental issues. Elsa hurts people because of her issues. She doesn’t mean to but she hurts her parents and sister and kingdom and strangers, emotionally and physically. And she’s a Good Guy. Not only is she a Good Guy, she’s a Disney Princess. They’re not supposed to hurt people — except oh maybe hurt feelings because they were following their dreams or something saccharine like that.
And she makes a series of bad choices, selfish choices, because she can’t deal with her issues. Just like real people. She’s not a bad person because she makes bad choices stemming from her neuroses. Little kids see someone who’s awesome! with anxiety and depression and they see that she’s more than just her issues, and she’s deserving of love
I wanted to create a single cover for Steve Grand’s new song, All-American Boy. I do not own this song in anyway or the photo used to create the album artwork. Just a fan wanting to create something to help promote how talented Steve is. Please purchase music directly from Steve Grand when it becomes available.
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.