Fresh Off The Boat – “A League Of Her Own” – Nicole comes out to Honey in a lesbian bar
Fucking mELISSA ETHERIDGE
WHY AREN’T ALL COMING OUTS LIKE THIS?!?!?!?!
THIS WAS BEAUTIFUL
I love this. I love how the Bartender is immediately ride or die for the baby gay, and how all the other lesbians in the bar are waiting on the edge of their seat to see if they get to be happy for the girl or if they have to comfort her. There is literally nothing wrong with this scene, and it makes me happy.
my two categories of anime rec are “it’s okay if you don’t really like anime, you’ll probably like this” and “this will not make any goddamn sense to you if you have not wasted years of your life on trash”
y’all took about five minutes to turn this into some kind of contentious madoka post when i was just sitting here innocently contemplating the spectrum from miyazaki to the bread anime
Okay, so, I feel like I should explain the greatest invention of the modern age…that was produced by my apartment.
We call it, the Weeb Ass Shit scale, after our traditional method of asking what anime somebody was watching (”What Weeb Ass Shit is this?”)
It grades a given Anime from 0-10 on three different methods: Weeb, Ass, and Shit. An individual will have different degrees of tolerance for various levels on the different scales. 0 is low, 10 is high.
Weeb is the degree to which the show assumes a familiarity with japanese pop culture or anime tropes in general, not only in terms of the actual content of the show, but occasionally at a conceptual level. Hyperspecialized high schools with all-powerful student councils, for example, add a couple points to the Weeb scale. Same goes for the presence or use of tropes that would be bizzare and off putting if you weren’t used to seeing such things in other anime.
A zero on the Weeb scale could be enjoyed by somebody who doesn’t even know that Japan exists, a 10 assumes the audience possesses a PhD in japanese cultural studies with a focus on animation. Something like Cowboy Bebop comes in at a 1, while I’d put Kill-La-Kill at a 6. Anything of the form “These Girls are anthropomorphic versions of something else” rates at least a 7 in my book.
Next comes the Ass Scale. Put simply, how much Fanservice is in the show. busty character design, male-gaze camera angles, skimpy outfits, hot spring episodes, character A tripping and landing in a compromising position on top of character B, all that nonsense. At a 0, you’ve got something you would watch with your Grandmother after church (Miyazaki’s stuff comes in at a 0).
Finally, the Shit scale, which covers general overall quality. A 0 indicates that the show is flawless, a 10 holds that you would rather sandpaper your own face than watch it. It should be noted that the Shit scale should be judged independent of the others. Too much T&A shows up on the Ass scale.
Proper use of this scale is in the form W/A/S. For example, Shokugeki no Soma (Aka Food Wars) would come in at W 4/ A 6/ S 3
you know how much pressure there is on girls to be good at every video game they play, because if they fuck up once there’s going to be a heck of a lot of people saying how girls suck and how they shouldn’t play video games
THIS THIS THIS THIS THING RIGHT HERE IS DA SHIT MAN
I actually like the “throwing clothes at it” better cause now I’m picturing Grandma stomping out of the house at 3 AM in her slippers, arms full of clothes and facing down this horrible, snarling beast.
And then she just starts flinging clothes at it like “GODDAMN IT JEFFERY IT IS THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING YOU GET YOUR PANTS ON AND COME BACK INSIDE RIGHT THIS MINUTE”
Everyone knew that the Widow Grumly’s granddaughter was a werewolf. She was bit by one and the prayers from the priest held it off for a little while, but she started going strange. Started saying things that didn’t make sense. And the next full moon… she was gone.
We all expected blood and murder, but for a while everything was mostly normal. The hunters and woodsmen, they’d see a big damn wolf sometimes, and find the leftovers of deer, but nothing came close to being what everyone told us a werewolf would be. No livestock dead, no attacks on people. It was a mercy, for the Widow Grumly asked after her grandchild every chance she could. Poor thing kept asking for her grandson; bedridden as she was, we hadn’t the heart to correct her. They’re fine, we said, not hurting no one.
Not until the wolfhunter came.
Talk spreads, as talk will. And he followed the talk, the hunter in the fancy clothes and the cape of scraps of wolf fur. Were-wolf fur, if he was to be believed. He offered to kill it for us, and we declined. He decided to kill it for himself, and we declined. Didn’t matter much- he set out anyway, calling for Jemma. That was her name, Jemma.
We found him dead as a doornail, throat ripped out as neat as you please.
Well, a man turns up dead and Authority will poke it’s nose in. Doesn’t matter if it was self-defense. No one listens to a werewolf, much less a peasant werewolf, not when a wealthy fool gets himself killed. Soldiers combed the woods and found nothing. Eventually they gave up, figured she had moved on.
She hadn’t.
The evening the soldiers were all cleared out, the Widow Grumly coerced the blacksmith’s sons to carry her outside, to the edge of town. She had a bundle of rags in her hands, shirt and trousers that had seen better days. We tried to tell her that Jemma might not be Jemma no more, and that killing people can turn the nicest were’ crazy no matter the reason.
She said nothing.
When the moon came up, the whole town heard her calling from her nest of blankets and pillows, there in the road.
“Jeremy! Jeremy, you come home now! I’ve been patient long enough! If you don’t come home for your birthday I will come get you with a leash!”
Those with windows facing the road watched the black shape come forward. Watched it nose the clothes the Widow held. Watched it change.
He goes by Jeremy, now. The Widow had family connections to a local pack, and when her grandson didn’t want to pretend any more, she called in a favor. Apparently, if you’re willing to wait a year or so, you can change how you look, a little at a time. Jeremy has hair now in places Jemma didn’t, and his voice broke a couple months back. The priest don’t like it, but he doesn’t complain too loud. Not after the hard winter, when Jeremy was bringing in the only meat the town saw. The hunters still say they’d trust his nose, four-legged or not.
With each change back from wolf, more of the man shows through. And the house of Grumly has never smiled more.
*writes I LIKE GIRLS on every other page of my journals so future historians don’t try to insist that I’m straight”
Future straight Historians: “we see several examples of her prioritizing a sisterly bond with the women around her, for example on page 12 she says ‘I like girls’ and throughout the text she references loving women and preferring their company. This is not to say she prioritized above her romantic relationships because on page 78 she mentions talking to a man one time in her life. It’s hard to know just how much she valued her sisterly bond with women due to this one reference of men and the ambiguity of early 21st century slang. For example on page 12 when she said she liked women, the passage continues ’…in a lesbian way. I want to kiss girls, they are so pretty, I’m so gay.’ Now it’s difficult to understand just what that sentence means. We know that in the early 21st century kissing on the cheek in greeting had gone out of vogue but the word gay, a word with an archaic meaning of happiness gives the contextual clues that perhaps she is references that old fashioned practice.
Going back to the nameless man that is mentioned once on page 78 for one sentance…”
“Now, given that she wrote on page 12, ‘Just to be clear: I’m sexually and romantically attracted to women exclusively,’ one may be tempted to read this literally, but we can’t rule out sarcasm.”
It may seem like @vilesbian is joking, but she really isn’t.
think it’s about time we stop making jokes about the amount of famous white boys named Chris, and about time we started focusing on Tom. Am I talking about Cruise? Hiddleston? Hardy? Holland? Hanks? Felton? Fletcher? Selleck? Welling? Ford? Hooper? Brady? It’s impossible to tell because apparently half the male population are called Tom.
*Approaches a gay couple*
So which one of you is Chris and which one of you is Tom.
Oh, that’s an easy one. Chris is the blonde, Tom is the brunette. Didn’t you notice?
just moving along like everyone else 