if you ever think mythology is boring or serious business or whatever shit
just remember that cerberus, the hell-hound and guard dog of the underworld, comes from the root indo-european word ḱerberos, which evolved into the greek word kerberos, which got changed to cerberus when it went from greek to latin
ḱerberos means “spotted”
hades, lord of the dead, literally fucking named his pet dog spot
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
How long have you been ten?
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
I would read this
it’s still a big motherfucking deal when someone comes out! especially if they’re high profile and in the public eye! because visibility is still important! because yeah it’s great that you don’t want to care about people’s sexualities anymore, but you still have to, because…
THIS to all my STRAIGHT friends who think homophobia doesn’t happen anymore… on what planet do you live
do you guys remember that one post about how men feel entitled to take up so much space and women have to deal with a lot less?
This is actually a documented thing. You always see men on the subway or tube or whatever using both armrests while women sit with their arms hunched together into their laps. That’s why I always make a point to take up at least one if not both armrests of the tube so men can be uncomfortable for once.
^ again, for all the people telling me posting this picture is complaining too much.
In my college classes (and high school too) guys were always stretching, sticking fists and elbows in my face, leaning their heads back over my desk, over my work, spreading their legs out, kicking my bag with their dirty shoes. And let’s not pretend they were in other guys’ space as much as they were in women’s.
It’s so true, this happens to me every day on the train. Same with the walking thing, women will weave out of the way whereas men just walk straight and plow down anything in their path. I always end up playing chicken with men on the sidewalk now, because I refuse to move out of their way.
I love playing chicken with dudes who hog the sidewalk. BODY CHECK! Fucking assholes.
“NOT ALL MEN ARE LIKE THIS!” FUCK OFF.
“AS A MAN, I THINK THAT…” FUCK OFF.
Men always have the same defensive bullshit to spout every time they get called out on their shit. AND IT IS BORING. They remind me of those toys where you pull a string an they have like 5 phrases they can say. Over and over and over.
same here with playing chicken, its hilarious sometimes because they get this flash of realization in their eyes that says ‘holy shit, she’s NOT going to move/??? what do????’ because THEY ARE SO USED TO EVERYONE MOVING FOR THEM
when i was younger my grandpa drew this on a piece of paper,
and he asked me how i, as the red circle, would get around the two people (black circles) if i was walking down the street.
so of course i came back with
moving out of the way for them as i walked.
he asked me if i thought men would do the same and, at the time, i did because i thought it was just common courtesy. but he told me that men would barrel straight through without giving a shit and that i should do the exact same. because i was the one walking and they were the ones in the way. so that’s exactly what i do.
i find this really fascinating because this actually what defines so-called masculine and feminine traits and gestures. the whole limp-wrist thing? that’s someone decreasing the amount of space they take up by not extending their arm fully. same with crossing one’s legs, how it’s considered more masculine to swing your shoulders when you walk creating a wider gait instead of your hips, how someone who holds their elbows tightly into their torso instead of letting them fall more loosely at their sides is considered feminine.
taking up space is not just a frequent habit of males in our culture, its actually how society thinks masculinity is supposed to be expressed.
This is my answer when people say eating disorders are personal problems and have nothing to do with sexism. Women literally socialized to take up as little space as possible all day every day.