Something I Like About Dr Stone Is That It Gives All The Main Cast Something They’re Good At And Let’s

I just love their family 😩😩😩

how has nobody clipped laios' scream from this episode. its the funniest scream ive ever heard in an anime recently

this video has been going around for a while but the English subtitles didn't match the energy of the spoken French at all. i had to fix it.

reblog to spread this version

My favorite relationship dynamic in fiction is a worshipper and their God. Not a literal God, but their God. The only thing in the whole world that matters to them. I will live for you, I would die for you, I would kill for you. My only moral compass is You. You can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never stray from your side. I was born to meet you and to love you. You are the only being I pray to. Your life isn’t just my passion, it’s my religion. You don’t think you’re anything special but you don’t see what I see. You don’t see that you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way. You don’t understand how beautiful you are to me and I will devote my entire life to making you understand and accept it.

i was inspired

i remember being taught by my butch lesbian neighbor how to figure out if a button-down shirt fits properly, and her femme wife teaching me how to tie a tie. it was in my dining room that we used as a makeshift nursery for my sister. the walls were blood red, and the floors and ceiling were dark. the whole world felt like it was suffocating you in that room, much like life felt for me at the time. i was fifteen years old, and it had been seven months since my mother had last spoken to me. my father was drinking. i was failing my classes partially because my brain couldnt stop projecting old home movies onto the backs of my eyelids and i couldnt stay present and partially to see if anyone would notice.  no one did.  no one but my neighbors.

they invited us over for dinner. the butch always greeted us while the femme finished dinner and we took off our shoes and one would take our coats and the butch would clap her hand on my shoulder, and the femme would touch my elbow gently while she took out my chair. they fed us, we played board games, they talked openly about being gay. they held hands across the dining table, and twirled their wedding rings, neither seeming to notice they were doing it. watching them methodically work, hosting this beautiful dinner, moving together like two pieces of an intricate puzzle, like weaving together yarn and hemp, like gears, like one soul split evenly between two bodies–

i had never seen love like that. i had never met women like them. women who wore athletic sandals in november. women who wore sundresses with denim and cowboy boots and called her wife “sonnyboy,” whose wife was always quite put together, button-down buttoned to the top, tie straight (with the constant help of her wife), hair short & cropped to the scalp all the way round. women who both did the dishes. 

i didn’t know love like that was an option. i had only been shown angry, volatile love. i didn’t know i could be a woman like that. or rather, i didn’t know i could be loved as that kind of a woman. i had been taught that women like that are lonely. they’re ugly. but i watched her. her crisp leather jacket, her darkwash, baggy jeans on summer days that she folded once over her brown boots with the yellow shoelaces. she wasn’t ugly. i watched her, and i bought brown boots.