I’m not an A cup, or a B cup, or even a D cup. I’m a T cup.
I’m not an A cup, or a B cup, or even a D cup. I’m a T cup.
obama is fucking done with all this bullshit in that last gif
So I just need to get this off my chest:
For me David Kawena from Lilo and Stitch is the ultimate Disney prince because he is there for Nani AND Lilo and even Stitch despite everything that’s going on in their lives. They’re going through some tough stuff. Their parents die and all of the sudden Nani has to be a mom to her sister who is socially awkward and depressed and that’s hard enough as it is and then she gets her this ‘dog’ and everything gets harder and even though she can’t return David’s feelings he’s still there for them through everything. Even aliens. He’s amazing. I was watching Lilo and Stitch with my niece the other day and I cried watching David go through it all. He is the perfect guy. Like I just get emotional thinking about him.
Imagine if you had someone like David in your life - male or female. You would feel like a prince/princess even if you were living with next to nothing.
David is the ultimate Disney prince - even though he isn’t a Disney prince. He should be considered one.
Disney rant - over.
Reminder that David:
-has no curse to break
-does not have a deadline/ultimatum to find a wife
-has no financial/social gain from being with Nani
-is told 1/4 of the way into the movie that Nani is too busy to worry about dating him AND PROCEEDS TO BE HELPFUL AND SUPPORTIVE ANYWAY.
David’s not a Disney prince because he’s too fucking awesome for that title.
AN ACTUAL NON-IRONIC,NON-SELF DESCRIBING NICE GUY.
A PROPER HUMAN BEING.
Plus he has fancy hair.
And a nice butt.
I know, I read her diary.
Lily nudged James’s arm in excitement. James snorted and adjusted his glasses while he leaned against the kitchen sink. “What?”
"I just…I’ve only met the boy and it was in passing. I just… I’m excited. I was a little worried that he wouldn’t make friends when he started. And now he has two best friends and maybe him and the girl…"
James shook his head. “He doesn’t fancy her.”
"How do you know?" Lily asked, popping her hand on her hip.
"Because, I know." He laughed, "My son isn’t that hard to figure out."
"He gets that from Sirius," She said under her breath.
"Well, we can ask them, they’re walking up right now."
James opened the door and immediately invited them inside. “Harry, could you get the gnome out of the fence before you come in?”
Harry sighed, and went out as his father asked.
Lily frowned and whispered, “Why did you do that? He’ll be out there for at least 5 minutes.”
"Exactly," James smirked, "So we can get our answers."
The 35 year old’s sat down across from the two teenagers. “Would you two like anything?”
"No," Ron shook his head while Hermione said more politely, "Thank you."
"So, Hermione what’s your relationship with our son?"
Hermione blinked, “..what?”
"Your relationship?" Lily repeated hiding her laugh.
Hermione stuttered, “We we’re friends.”
James didn’t move on. Instead he looked at Ron. “And you?”
"What is your relationship with our son?"
James and Lily busted out laugh in unison just as Harry came into the room. His hair askew. “What’s so funny?”
"Nothing," James said, standing up with Lily, "You kids have fun."
I love that this fearless daughter who ignores her mother’s orders because she wants to fly is also the believer who can do the impossible, who constantly testing the limits of this something special she knows is flowing in her veins, is also curious enough to overcome her snobbery, who dares to believe the odd boy who spins outlandish, fantastic stories about a magical world, is also the witch-the real witch-who squeals with delight, eyes flashing in triumph as she reads her letter, is also the daughter whose cheeks flush when her mum calls her their special, wonderful, darling girl, is also the awestruck eleven year old who beams when the wall disintegrates and her world is revealed for the first time, whose lungs burn from sucking in so much air and fingertips tingle for hours after she finds a wand-her wand, who steals the calendar from her dad’s den to mark the days until September 1st, is also the schoolgirl who chokes back tears on the last day of term because she must leave behind her friends, home, family to step off into the unknown, and although she does it bravely, she learns that a new start often means a bittersweet end, is also the student who excels, who relishes her lessons, who doesn’t squirm at the beetle eyes like the other girls, is also the mudblood who realizes with that one sharp, awful word that for some people, she is different, less, who allows herself one good cry before raising her chin in defiance and refusing to let them break her, is also the girl with a fierce temper and a quick tongue, is also the protector who refuses to tolerate injustice, who stands up to prejudiced gits and idiot bullies alike, is also the betrayed who realizes, painfully, that it’s not her job to save someone and to let go of toxic relationships, is also the muggleborn who returns home term after term to a strained relationship with her sister, who struggles to keep her temper and magic in check, especially when provoked, is also the charming student who sasses her teachers when they’re looking and bends the rules when they aren’t, is also the loving daughter who adores her parents but cannot seem to bridge the gap that grows with every year spent in a different world, is also the head girl who falls for her friend-this reckless, funny, loyal, charming, sweet, brave boy who was never really that bad and who, imagine that, still fancies her, is also the eighteen year old who refuses to submit to fear and instead signs up to fight, is also the lover who marries her boy, jumping in with both feet not because she believes in happily ever after, because she doesn’t, but because she believes in them, is also the soldier who puts her career on hold to battle for those who can’t, who barely escapes with her life not once or twice, but three times, who is plagued with nightmares but keeps trudging forward, even when it seems like they aren’t making any ground, is also the grieving daughter who loses both parents to death and a sister to bitterness, is also the teenager with sweaty palms clinging too tightly to her teenage husband’s hands when the charm confirms their suspicions, but who cannot bear the thought of giving up this slice of happiness, of normalcy, however terrifying it may be, is also the protective mother-to-be whose heart stops when the words from the prophecy shatter around them, marking their child-and by extension, them-for death, is also the soldier who now must now fight her instincts rather than the enemy and stand still, hide, even though it chokes her, suffocating her, to let others fight, is also the woman who thinks she’ll be able to keep her cool during labor but loses it completely, nearly coming unhinged at the pain and at the thought that he is going to be born as the seventh month dies after all, just when they were so close, is also the wife who learns with her husband, clumsily, how to turn from a couple into a family, is also the loving mother who holds her baby boy close, more tenderly than she thought capable, singing off key melodies by day and whispering her love in the quiet hours of the night, is also the comrade who mourns the fallen, shut up in her house, unable to do anything but grieve and cling to her boys more tightly, is also the Evans who still masochistically sends cards to Privet Drive, knowing they’ll be discarded but clinging to the hope that her last link to her old life hasn’t been severed completely, is also the pen pal who writes charming letters to her friends, bragging about her son and her husband and the slice of happiness they’ve been able to carve for themselves, is also the worrier who breathes a sigh of relief because they are really, truly safe after the charm has been cast, is also the woman who can’t even spare a glance for her husband as she rushes up the stairs, baby in her arms, is also the widow who screams when she hears the thud that means her love is gone, who cannot let herself succumb to the madness that wants to overtake her because she is also the last stand between her child, her baby, and him, death, so she is also the mother who throws boxes against the door, who casts her arms out wide in front of the cot, who counts her numbered heartbeats, who knows it’s futile but pleads mercy anyway, who refuses to stand aside and instead lovingly, bravely, intentionally gives her life rather than watch her son die.
companion to this piece
I know this is ridiculously long but I love Lily and it is her birthday.
This is their story - the story of Malfoy and Granger.
This isn’t a love story, but it is a story of their love.
LBD Valentines: The Collection
(Part 1, Part 2)