I was listening to City Of Stars on repeat and kept thinking about aroace grace. I love grace who is happy without a relationship, who doesn't need any romantic relationship to be fulfilled, but... I also keep thinking about Grace being a hopeless romantic. Grace who keeps hearing about love love love and nothing else, Grace who keeps waiting for that one true love, Grace who was more in love with the idea of romance than his actual girlfriend. Grace who just doesn't understand why it doesn't come naturally to him, why he can't seem to have what everyone else wants, what he keeps dreaming of. Maybe he thought Stratt may be the one for him. Maybe the idea of a big swooping romance with Stratt makes him want to claw his eyes out. Grace doesn't know what he wants.
He wanted to experience romance so bad, to understand what it was like to fall in love, what everyone keeps talking about... and now he never will.
Grace mourning his one true love back on Earth, someone who doesn't exist and never will. Grace mourning something that was never his in the first place.
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I’m seeing a lot of people saying this post changed their brain chemistry, and as a neuroscientist I wanted to say yes!!! Yes it does!
Wanting something requires dopamine signaling, but liking something doesn’t.
If you have a mental illness/disorder that affects dopamine, you might feel that you don’t want to do the things that you like. You do still like them. You will appreciate having done them.
Let your likes guide you.
(If you want to read more, here’s one experimental paper about it. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5171207/ This theory called the incentive-sensitization theory was originally created to explain behaviors in addiction but can be applied elsewhere as well)
Rewards are both ‘liked’ and ‘wanted’, and those two words seem almost interchangeable. However, the brain circuitry that mediates the psych
I don't ship waltjesse in the "i think they should fuck," nor do I think there is actually sexual subtext in the show between them
I do, however, think that waltjesse is "canon" in the fact that Jesse as he is now is who Skyler once was. A young, vulnerable companion who is alone and reliant on Walt. Someone who looks up to him and views him almost as a god.
At the end of the day, I do think Walter is heterosexual, as there's nothing more heterosexual than seeing your wife as an object to bring you pleasure, and despising her for attempting to be anything else. Its just that Walt doesn't see Jesse as a man, he sees him as an object the same way he sees Skyler, and in that way he can project a psychosexual relationship onto him.
People reading sexual tension into waltjesse aren't wrong that its there, and I think the analysis of Walter as a closted gay or bi man is fascinating, but personally I view him as heterosexual and simply denying Jesse his status as "man." In this way, his attempts to cut Jesse off from his romantic partners makes sense - Jesse dating Jane or being a provider for Andrea and Brock breaks Walt's illusion. It reasserts Jesse's status as man instead of object.
Skyler's status as a mom, an accountant, a woman with sexual desires of her own and as someone who fights back when Walt attempts to assault her similarly breaks the illusion to Walt that she is an object.
Jesse, and Skyler at one point in her life, is too young, insecure, and vulnerable to know to fight back against his status as object and dependent. Skyler has outgrown the acceptance of this status. No longer is she a 19 year old waitress and student barely scraping by - she has an income she can live on, she has a social life/support system outside of Walt, she takes care of most of their finances so she doesn't need him to pay bills or file taxes. She's able to exist independently from Walt. Jesse hasn't. He's almost exclusively dependent on Walt, and through that status I could see Walt expressing sexual frustrations through Jesse even if he is heterosexual.
Is waltjesse romantic? Not really. Is waltjesse sexual? Potentially. Is waltjesse familial? In a way.
I forget who said it, but someone in a post on here said that Walt abuses Jesse as both a wife and a son, and that really is the most concise way to put it.
And I've just realized that the fandom gets very caught up in Simon being a wet cat and a sad man
And I noticed that we have forgotten that Simon, throughout the movie, and even in some flashbacks, is very stubborn and somewhat argumentative and very easily and quickly irritated
Like yeah Simon has his moments of crumpling to the floor and doing some stupid shit when the depression hits like drinking rubbing alcohol, who wouldn't have a breakdown of some sort in that situation?
But he ends up picking himself back up each time determined that he is not going to die in the blood ocean. There are even points in the movie where he says "what's the point?" While STILL pushing forward
And even when you reach the end of the movie and he realizes that he is going to die in the blood ocean and nothing can be done about it, he is still stubborn and he still fights to the very end
I mean, he ripped his own fucking arm off.
He actively challenged Elli and talked back to a god.
And I feel that in a lot of fan art and fanfiction that I've seen people are forgetting that
And that's not to criticize the art or the role players or the fanfiction because I've seen all that on here and it's good and I enjoy it, and i like sad Simon moments also, (one of my favorites being "you sent me down here to die and you dont even known my name?") but I would really love to see more true to character, angry and determined Simon content
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this is very obvious but i still need to say it. i think one of the reasons that Iron Lung is so astonishingly good is that it is very clearly a passion project. it's so hard to find movies that have come out recently that feel real or important in anyway. you go to the theater and watch the movie and the next morning you can't even remember what it was about. Iron Lung, however, has been haunting me for several days now and i remember every second of the film and every emotion it made me feel. it feels like movies made in the early 2000s you know? it was made with love and intent, not just for profits.
I love that in the intro credits for Iron Lung, Mark put down that this is a movie made by MARKIPLIER, aka yes, the YouTube guy, yes, the guy that all the corporate media lords and conglomerates have been shitting on and discrediting for years and years. Markiplier fucking did it. He refuses to deny his roots and refuses to let anyone else forget exactly where and how he started.
here's my obligatory first day of pride fic!! this is just a sweet ficlet but i hope to explore some more serious aspects of queer joy and experiences throughout the month.
it's important to point out that all over the world, queer rights are increasingly more under attack by governments and societal shifts. it is incredibly important to be vocally in support of queer people and actively support those within your communities. happy pride!!
The parade had been incredible—a vibrant blur of floats, music, and celebration that left Jason's head spinning in the best possible way. Now, as the official procession wound down and crowds dispersed toward food trucks and vendor booths, he found himself being dragged through the throng by an increasingly excited Peter.
"Food," Peter announced, practically bouncing on his toes. "I'm starving, and there's supposed to be some really good stuff around here."
Jason glanced at his boyfriend, taking in the sight that had been making him smile all day. Peter's bi flag tank top was slightly damp with sweat, the pink, purple, and blue stripes bright against his skin. His old basketball shorts from high school—ratty things he refused to throw away—hung loose on his hips, and there was rainbow face paint smeared on his left cheek from when he'd hugged that drag queen an hour ago.
Jason's own outfit was more understated but no less intentional. His black fitted workout shirt showed off the progress flag armbands Peter had convinced him to wear, and the remnants of rainbow face paint decorated his cheekbones where Peter had applied it that morning with as much concentration his sleep-addled brain could muster.
"Look at this," Peter said suddenly, stopping so abruptly that Jason nearly collided with him. They stood before a food truck with a line stretching halfway down the block, its bright pink and gold signage declaring "PRIDE CROFFLES" in glittering letters.
Jason looked at the menu board mounted on the side of the truck and immediately winced. "Twenty-five dollars for a waffle?"
"But it's not just a waffle," Peter said, his voice taking on that particular tone of exaggerated importance he used when he was about to spend money on something ridiculous. "It's a croffle. Croissant-waffle hybrid with rainbow icing and edible glitter. Look how pretty they are!"
He pointed eagerly at the display case, which housed what were quite possibly the most elaborate pastries Jason had ever seen. Each croffle was a work of art—flaky, buttery layers twisted into waffle shapes and covered in swirls of rainbow-colored icing, edible flowers, and enough glitter to be visible from orbit.
"Peter, that's highway robbery," Jason said, but his tone lacked any real conviction. He was already calculating whether he had enough cash, because Peter had that expression—the one that meant he'd made up his mind about something and would deploy increasingly creative arguments until he got his way.
"It's Pride!" Peter exclaimed, gesturing broadly at the celebration around them. "Everything's overpriced at Pride. It's like... festival tax. Plus, when are we ever going to eat rainbow croffles again?"
Jason studied the ridiculous pastries, then Peter's hopeful face, then back to the pastries. They were objectively absurd—expensive, over-the-top, completely unnecessary. The kind of thing he would normally walk past without a second thought.
But Peter was looking at him with those big brown eyes, practically vibrating with excitement, and Jason realized he was absolutely going to buy his boyfriend a twenty-five-dollar croffle.
"Fine," he said, pulling out his wallet with an exaggerated sigh. "But I'm buying, and you're sharing, because I'm not eating an entire croffle by myself."
Peter's face lit up like Jason had just offered to solve world hunger. "Really?"
"Really. But we're getting one because that price is still insane."
"Deal!" Peter bounced on his toes while they waited in line, occasionally standing on tiptoe to peer over the crowd at the truck's preparation area. "I can't believe you said yes. I was fully prepared to deploy the puppy dog eyes."
"The puppy dog eyes don't work on me," Jason lied smoothly.
"They absolutely do. You bought me ice cream last week specifically because I gave you the puppy dog eyes when I had that bad day with my advisor."
"That was different."
"Different how?"
Jason considered this. "You looked pathetic."
"I look pathetic frequently. It's part of my charm." Peter grinned. "Plus, you love spoiling me."
Jason couldn't argue with that, mostly because it was true. Over the past six months, he'd discovered he genuinely enjoyed doing small things to make Peter happy—bringing him coffee during late-night lab sessions, picking up groceries when Peter's schedule was packed, listening to him ramble about whatever documentary had captured his attention that week. Small acts of service and gift-giving had quickly taken over Jason’s own lovelanguge in many ways.
Which extended to buying him overpriced festival food shaped like rainbows.
When they finally reached the front of the line, the woman behind the counter—who was wearing rainbow face paint that put Jason's subtle stripes to shame and had glitter in her hair that sparkled when she moved—handed them their purchase with a cheerful "Happy Pride, boys!"
The croffle came in a small cardboard boat, accompanied by two plastic forks and a stack of napkins that Jason suspected they would definitely need. It was even more elaborate up close, the icing swirled in perfect rainbow gradients and topped with what appeared to be actual gold leaf in addition to the edible glitter.
"This is either going to be the best thing we've ever eaten or a complete disaster," Jason observed as they searched for somewhere to sit.
"Those aren't mutually exclusive," Peter pointed out. "Some of the best experiences are complete disasters."
They found a relatively quiet spot on the steps of a nearby building, far enough from the main crowd to hear each other speak but close enough to watch the ongoing celebration. Street performers juggled fire nearby, a group of teenagers had started an impromptu dance party around someone's bluetooth speaker, and vendors hawked everything from rainbow flags to glittery temporary tattoos.
Peter immediately pulled out his phone and began photographing their croffle from every conceivable angle, his expression serious with artistic concentration.
"Instagram?" Jason asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Obviously. This is peak content." Peter adjusted the position of the croffle slightly, tilting his head as he considered the lighting. "The aesthetic is immaculate."
Jason watched, amused, as Peter continued his impromptu photo shoot. He’d long grown accustomed to Peter's social media habits—his genuine enthusiasm for documenting his whole day and posting as many shots as he was proud of. (Jason thought it was cute.)
"Okay, try it," Peter said finally, setting his phone aside and picking up one of the forks.
Jason took a cautious bite and was surprised to find that the croffle was actually delicious. The pastry was buttery and flaky, with just the right amount of sweetness from the icing. The edible glitter was unnecessary but harmless, adding a subtle sparkle that caught the afternoon sunlight.
"Verdict?" Peter asked, watching Jason's face carefully.
"It's..." Jason paused, considering. "Actually really good. I mean, still overpriced, but good."
Peter's grin was triumphant. "I told you! Sometimes you have to trust the process."
"The process of spending twenty-five dollars on a waffle?"
"The process of embracing joy through carbohydrates and artificial coloring," Peter corrected solemnly.
They ate in comfortable companionship, trading bites and people-watching as the celebration continued around them. Jason found himself relaxing in a way that still surprised him—he never would have imagined himself at a Pride parade, eating glittery pastries and letting his boyfriend document the experience for social media.
But Peter had a way of making everything feel natural, like the most obvious thing in the world. There was no pressure, no expectation that Jason be anyone other than exactly who he was. Just gentle encouragement to try new things and the steady certainty that Peter would be right there beside him, ready to share whatever came next.
"You've got glitter on your nose," Peter observed, reaching over to brush it away with his thumb.
The gesture was casual, unconscious, but it made Jason's chest tight with affection. "You've got rainbow icing in your hair."
"That's what I get for being enthusiastic about food." Peter attempted to locate the icing in question, succeeding only in making it worse.
Jason laughed and reached over to fix it properly, his fingers gentle as they worked through Peter's already messy curls. "There."
"Thanks." Peter's smile was soft, the kind that made Jason want to kiss him right there on the steps in front of everyone.
So he did.
It was just a quick press of lips, nothing dramatic, but Peter's responding smile was radiant. Around them, the Pride celebration continued—music and laughter and the joyful chaos of thousands of people celebrating who they were and who they loved.
"I'm posting the croffle pics," Peter announced, picking up his phone again.
"Don't post the one of me," Jason said automatically.
"Why not? You look cute. Very 'stoic boyfriend reluctantly enjoying overpriced festival food.'" Peter showed him a photo where Jason was mid-bite, his expression skeptical but clearly enjoying himself.
Jason studied the image. He looked... happy. Relaxed in a way he rarely saw in photos of himself. "Okay," he said, surprising both of them. "But if your aunt makes fun of me for eating glitter, I'm blaming you."
"May loves you. She thinks you're responsible for my improved eating habits." Peter was already typing a caption, his thumbs flying over the screen. "Although she did ask if you ever smile at people who aren't me."
"I smile."
"At me, yes. At other people it's more of a polite grimace."
Jason bumped Peter's shoulder with his own. "I smiled at the queens."
"That was fear, not joy."
"They were very... enthusiastic."
"They were amazing and you know it." Peter hit 'post' with a flourish. "There. Now the world can witness our croffle adventure."
Almost immediately, Jason's phone buzzed with a text notification. He glanced at the screen and couldn't suppress a laugh.
"Tim," he explained, showing Peter the message.
saw Peter's Instagram post
you eating glittery food at pride was not on my 2025 bingo card
also you look happy
it's weird but good 🎉
"Tim actually follows my Instagram?" Peter asked, delighted.
"Apparently. He says it's for 'intelligence gathering,' but I think he just likes your skyline posts."
Peter's phone was already buzzing with notifications—likes and comments rolling in from friends, family, and acquaintances. Jason watched him scroll through the responses, his face bright with joy at the positive reactions.
"May commented," Peter said, turning his phone so Jason could see. "'My beautiful boys and their overpriced pastries. Jason, you look wonderful. Peter, that haircut was worth every penny.'"
Jason felt that familiar warmth in his chest, the feeling that came from being included so naturally in Peter's family, in his world. May had never made him feel like an outsider, never questioned his place in Peter's life or made him feel like he had to prove himself worthy of her nephew's affection.
"Your aunt's great," he said.
"She adores you. Keeps asking when we're coming to dinner again." Peter finished his half of the croffle and sat back with a contented sigh. "This was perfect."
"The croffle?"
"All of it. The parade, the food, getting to be here with you." Peter's voice was soft, sincere in a way that made Jason's throat tight. "Our first Pride together."
Feeling the familiar soft squeeze of his heart at the words, Jason reached over and took Peter's hand, threading their fingers together.
"First of many," he said, and meant it.
Peter's smile was radiant, transforming his entire face with pure joy. "Many more overpriced pastries in our future."
"I'm bringing my own snacks next year."
"You say that now, but wait until you see the pride donuts."
Jason groaned, but he was smiling. Around them, the celebration continued—a joyful chaos of music and laughter and people living authentically, openly, without apology. He squeezed Peter's hand and let himself be part of it, glitter-covered and happy and exactly where he belonged.
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In the original, iirc, we got to see Keiichi's mom a couple times and she was the one that left the meatballs(?) that the friends had put razor blades in. It was always when the summer was just beginning though and right after the parents would leave on their work trip to Tokyo.
I do really enjoy how it's making it seem more realistic but it takes away from the completely bonkers logic that was early 2000s anime tbh
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It’s important to recognize the complexity of Pakku’s character and his ability to change his opinions, but I realized today that when he said he wouldn’t train Katara, he wasn’t just disregarding her value because she was a woman. He was disregarding the entire continuation of the Southern Water Tribe’s waterbender population. The whole reason Katara went to the NWT for the purposes of getting a master because there were none left in the SWT. And while the SWT was reduced to a small village and their only defenses when the series started was Sokka and his boomerang, the NWT isolated themselves.
Pakku refusing to train Katara wasn’t just a slap in the face because of the sexism, is was also because while all the other SWT waterbenders were taken and while her mother was killed because of the Fire Nation targeting SWT waterbenders, Pakku valued his pride and his sexists beliefs more than he valued the continuation of the SWT waterbenders.
❀ quarantine tips for people who deal with mental illnesses ❀
- try to enjoy the sun as much as you can!! even if it’s to open your window to let some daylight and fresh air in!
- try to get dressed every morning, even if it’s to change from your pajamas to a hoodie and leggings. believe me, it does make a change
- make a list of activities that usually keep your mind busy
- being close to your pets helps a lot
- try to meditate everyday, it’s super beneficial
- i know it’s hard (specially because our bodies are way less tired) but try to go to sleep at the same hour everyday and keep a concise sleeping schedule
- don’t force yourself to be extra productive just because you are at home, let your mind and your body rest
- try to keep contact with your loved ones and talk to them regulary (keeping a list of people you want to text/call everyday also helps)
- trying sensorial hobbies help a lot during this time, specially if you suffer from dissociation or if you feel out of touch with reality lately. embroidery, playing an instrument, painting, gardening... you name it!
- writing a list every single day of things that happened that day that you are grateful for helps a LOT
- if you are too tired to exercice, yoga helps
- try to be kind to yourself. you deserve as much love as anyone else
note: my private messages are always open to whoever needs to talk or if you simply need a distraction. you are so loved and strong. you’ve got this ♡
Ike, my Beloved @whyisnoausername - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
