Bold, precise, experimental @the-pumpqueen - Tumblr Blog

Well, actually, a bridge has two sides. And mother had two daughters. We did this together. And we’ll continue to do this together.

FROZEN II 2019 | dir: Jennifer Lee, Chris Buck

samijen

its thursday 🥺

pervyvore

The taste of your red.

#bubbleline #nsfw #at

sweetladykissesandsex

OoOokay I admit it, it was just a sketch of two girls having fun. But I wanted so much to celebrate the bubbline miracle! And I don’t have enough time for my lil hot blog, sooo… AND OH, I guess that it’s pretty much what happened after the kiss scene, right?

#bubbline #yuri #at

chlove-art

And the crowd goes wild!

#bubbline #yuri #at

mikaeled

musashi

thoughts on the friendzone

when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors. we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards. he wasn’t the only one. there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”

i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was

in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face. we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time. one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.

in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly. everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.

when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it. people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly. he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us. he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.

in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga. he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention. i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day. i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole? but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes. there’s no room for nice guys like me.”

i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?

he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know. being friendly. i thought we were friends. but then, how many times had i thought that before?

how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?

how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”

there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams. beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.

when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.

i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me. he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly. but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.

“don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back? don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?”

when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say

when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill. and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.

but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”

they were

“she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her.”

so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:

put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex. that he just wanted her for a relationship. a girl who was just an object to win, a prize. a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.

maybe she friendzoned you. but you girlfriendzoned her, first.

nyahchatnoir

I am clapping for this, you just can’t see it.

kianamaiart

Continued under the cut!

Continua a leggere

garbagebird

knight krista and princess ymir.

bonus:

Purrfection

“Two other people took my picture before you, so I was already popular.”

w0manz-aesthetix

I know that some people said in the comments that this outfit was culturally appropriative, but just remember that you don’t know that someone isn’t a POC or biracial just by looking at them. Don’t assume other people’s races.

annyongchingu

^ My immediate reaction was to be upset by this photo because, I’m sorry, I’m just so fucking sick of people stealing Asian outfits and making them cool or trendy. But then I thought that maybe she’s a mixed kid. If not, there’s a problem here, though.

lolatsjw-deactivated20140805

Hi. I’m actually Japanese. Most of us LIKE when people find beauty in our culture. As long as nobody is disrespecting us or making a mockery of us, then there isn’t a problem, and if you think there is, then it seems that you are in favor of cultural segregation and that is causing more harm than good.

skull-bearer

When I was in Japan, there were a lot of places where you could get done up in a kimono or the male equivalent and have your picture taken. No one cares.

vanderpoele-deactivated20150418

Most Korean people I know are pretty delighted when foreigners wear hanbok, in a “oh, you are appreciating our culture! you look good in that” way. I have never actually heard or heard of people reacting negatively to non-Korean people wearing traditional Korean clothes, unless they were racist to begin with and would have objected to foreigners regardless of what they were wearing.

‘Appropriation’ is, I think, only appropriation when either it is done in a blatantly disrespectful way, or if the group whose clothes (etc) are being adopted is culturally marginalized to the degree where they themselves face discrimination when they wear those things.

Korean people, afaik, don’t give a fuck. When foreigners visit and wear our clothes, it’s in good fun by people who are usually appreciative of the aesthetic qualities of what they’re donning, and also because we ourselves have never faced discrimination for our nationality or traditional dress.

uhhh, basically, intent matters, context matters, people within the same community often have radically different ideas of what’s okay. But you know, I think the only Koreans I know who’d potentially care are the American-raised ones on liberal, activisty college campuses who are extremely well versed in the liberal, activisty language and rulebook.

gurhl

Thank you!!

joyfulldreams

I also think it makes a difference in that the clothing is, you know, the actual thing and not some vaguely exotic knock-off like most people do with native american clothing. Like this is a legit, actual Kimono. There’s nothing really in the culture OF kimono that has rules about who wears this sort of thing when. Like…kimono literally means “thing you wear”. -shrug-

shrineart

Bolded some of the things that stood out the most to me.

otakusapien

# it’s not like wearing inaccurate and sacred native american clothing or wearing a bindi or a burqa wear you’re doing it disrespectfully and the people of that group is marginalized and made fun of for those things and there is meaning behind them that people ignore or take for granted kimonos are jusr robes and there isn’t really a stigma about people who wear them

somberfawn

(gifs from here)

emeraldmercury

When foreign women come to India we give them pottus and sarees and teach them how to wear them.

Please stop speaking for us, SJWs.

appropriately-inappropriate

There is a huge difference between wearing an item known for its religious or social significance (for example–a Plains headdress), and wearing something that is just a general item of clothing (like kimono).

If you’re wearing it to sexualize it (ie: “sexy kimono” in the fetish scene) or to mock its origin (ie: “sexy geisha Halloween costume!”), then that’s inappropriate. But wearing a kimono in good faith–say to a cherry blossom festival–isn’t in any way cultural appropriation, it’s cultural appreciation.

Like, I’m Dominican, and when people want to buy Mascaras de Carnaval, or learn to dance merengue or bachata, it’s not a bad thing.

stuffandsassafras

It massively discourages people, especially young people, to learn about new cultures and history of different countries when (predominantly white) SJW’s are there screaming that you can’t wear/do something from cultures that aren’t your own.

Tbh let young people and children explore countries and cultures outside their own???It’s just as important as letting them discover any other personal interests, and instead of being scared an 8 year old might look racist, educate them on what they can enjoy and what is not acceptable!! It’s no different than educating a child about what’s acceptable behaviour and what isn’t in everyday life.

And I hope the little girl in the picture enjoyed herself and continues to respectfully enjoy other cultures, she doesn’t look like she’s mocking Japanese culture at all.

alwayshumancomic

I can’t believe it’s over. I made a a thing and I completed the thing and of course it’s not perfect but it’s finished and it’s mine and I am simultaneously on cloud nine and heartbroken.

I will miss my children ;____;

Thank you so much for taking this journey with me <3

P.S. Since this is the final update, it would be really awesome if you’d consider reblogging this post. Share a complete, queer, romance/sci-fi webcomic with a friend for pride month :D

P.P.S. If you have a question for the Q&A, please leave a comment on LINE webtoon rather than sending me an ask, it’s easier for me if all the questions are in one place. Thank you!

kingofooo

by storyboard supervisor Erik Fountain

A few years ago, Erik put together these updated AT storyboard guidelines for new board artists and revisionists.

chgreenblatt

These are excellent notes for tv boarding.

#ref #art ref

eisforedna

On May 28th, my sister, Edna, turned 31.

Her mental age is about three years old. She loves Winnie the Pooh, Beauty & the Beast, and Sesame Street. Even though the below picture is unconvincing.

Edna and “Cookie.” I think she was trying to play it cool.

My name is Jeanie. I’m Edna’s younger sister. I’m also her guardian and caregiver.

That’s me on the left. (Hey, you never know. After a year of writing a blog about online dating - Jeanie Does the Internet - I’ve come to learn that there are A LOT of fools on the internet.)

ANYWAY, I’m not “doing the internet” anymore. I’m taking care of Edna full-time, after completing my MFA in Writing for Screen & Television at USC.

May 16, 2014. I wanted a picture. Edna wanted breakfast.

In case you’re wondering where our parents are, they’re dead. Our mom died of breast cancer when she was just 33.

Us with mom before she died. (Obviously.)

As for our dad, he peaced-out around the time my mom got sick. His loss - we’re awesome.

Here we are being awesome at the beach. Pushing a wheelchair in the sand? Not so awesome.

In case you’re wondering “What’s wrong?” with my sister - as a stranger once asked me on the street - NOTHING. Yes, Edna has a rare form of epilepsy - Lennox-Gastaut syndrome - but I don’t know if that’s anymore “wrong” than people who don’t have manners.

Basically, Edna was born “normal,” and started having seizures as a baby. They eventually got so bad that they cut off the oxygen to her brain, causing her to be mentally disabled. Or impaired. Or intellectually disabled. Or whatever you want to call it - except “retarded,” because in 2010, President Obama signed Rosa’s Law into effect, replacing that word with “intellectually impaired.”

Which is cool and all, but services for the disabled and the people who care for them are SEVERELY LACKING. Also, there’s a bunch of people working in taxpayer-funded positions who are supposed to help families like us, but don’t. (Big surprise, I know.) They just fill out paperwork (whenever they feel like it) with asinine statements like this:

YUP. I transport my sister down the stairs in her wheelchair, because that is not only safe, but TOTALLY PRACTICAL. Why doesn’t everyone in a wheelchair just take the stairs, for God’s sake? Stop being so lazy, PEOPLE WITHOUT WORKING LEGS!

But, as it says above, Edna’s legs do work. Whether or not she wants them to, is another story.

Edna refusing to go inside.

These are the stairs that I have to carry her up - by myself - on a daily basis. That is, until one of my legs break and both of us are just sitting at the bottom of the stairs, helpless.

For six months, I have begged - BEGGED - the State of California to help my sister, which they are required by law - The Lanterman Act specifically - to do so. But they’ve told me “these things take time” and that I “need to amend my expectations.” (That was said to me when I refused to place Edna at AN ALL-MALE CARE FACILITY. Because yes, that was an “option” that was offered to me.)

Prior to Edna moving in with me in my one-bedroom apartment, she was living with her amazing caregiver, Gaby, back in Tucson, where we went to high school and I did my undergrad. Edna’s reppin’ the Wildcats below.

But back in November, Gaby also died from breast cancer. (FUCK YOU, BREAST CANCER!) This picture was taken a month before she died. She never even told me she was sick because she didn’t want me to worry.

By the way, we were raised by our grandma. Edna and her were very close.

She’s dead, too. Surprise.

She died when I was 20 and Edna was 21. That’s when I became Edna’s legal guardian and Gaby stepped into the picture to help me out with Edna.

So, six months ago, after Gaby died, I moved Edna to California, where I tried to get the folks over at The Frank D. Lanterman Regional Center to help me. I’ve told them I’m worried about our safety - that one of us could get hurt on the stairs - I’ve told them I can’t afford to pay the private babysitters $15/hour because the ones social services sent me who make $9/hour were unreliable (they didn’t show up on time or at all so I could get to school and work), untrustworthy (one of them let Edna go to the bathroom in the kitchen and then took her into the bathroom because “that what I thought I was supposed to do.”)

But the people over at the FLRC don’t return my calls, they don’t file the paperwork on time - and the first caseworker that was assigned to us actually LAUGHED AT my sister when he came to our home to evaluate her. When I reported him to his supervisor, she told me, “That’s just [insert name of said jackass].”

He was one of the two caseworkers that contributed to the report I mentioned above, which also included this:

So let me get this straight - I have to feed, bathe, dress and help Edna in the bathroom and you can’t deduce whether or not she is able to vote? What in the fuck?!

Now I realize I seem angry. And you can bet your balls I am. I’m also sad. Sad for those who don’t have family to stick up from them and who waste away God knows where, monitored by no one. Or monitored by people who physically and sexually assault them.

I’m also sad for the caregivers who are SO EXHAUSTED - trying to take care of their loved ones - while also trying to take care of themselves and battling a system that is supposed to help, but does nothing of the sort. And I know a lot of people give up. They let their dreams, their marriages, their friendships slide. All while trying not to resent the very person you’re doing it all for.

Edna wanted to sit next to me the other day while I was writing. Clearly, she’s not impressed.

Here’s the thing: I REFUSE TO GIVE UP. I’M NOT GIVING UP ON HER OR MYSELF. I’m going to pursue my dreams while taking care of her, AND while ensuring that the people paid to do their jobs ACTUALLY do them.

That’s where you come in. I need you to help me get my story out there. Because I know I’m not alone in this. I want to connect with families who are in similar situations and also show people who have no idea what it’s like to care for someone with a disability (or even a loved one who is sick) that it can be rewarding. Super fucking hard. Exhausting. Painful. Isolating. But, rewarding.

I’m going to get help for my sister - and others. My hope is that by sharing our story, I can bring awareness to the lack of services and help for the disabled.

Thank you,

Jeanie

Facebook: facebook.com/eisforedna

Twitter: @EisforEdna

itsindigowhite

This made me cry

team-elias

SIGNAL BOOST

congalineofdurin

STOP SCROLLING. THIS PERSON ISN’T ASKING FOR MONEY AND THIS POST WON’T MAKE YOU SAD.

This is a really uplifting and inspirational story of a family sticking by each other and making things work despite a whole lot of shit

They just want to find other people in the same position they are, for a sense of community and to feel like they aren’t alone.

I know out of all of you, some of you have followers who are living with and taking care of intellectually or emotionally disabled family members, and this lovely and unbreakable pair of sisters need to find them.

SIGNAL BOOOOOOOOOST

kanalashesa

Repost! This story needs told!

lgbtprolife

Disabled lives matter. Sooo much.

takealookatyourlife

Aiya Van Kooten everyone

When Aiya Van Kooten stood face-to-face with a burglar in her bedroom, her left eye twitched, then she went into “predator mode”.

“I screamed at him… jumped off my chair, leaped over my bed and sprinted after him down the stairs,” she said.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/crime/8626910/Predator-mode-scares-off-burglars

This is the best story of my life

honeyrenaissance

“Although she was the only one home, Van Kooten said she had no regard for her safety - instead, she said she was just overwhelmed with “rage“….. ummmmm Hero!!!

badass-bharat-deafmuslim-artista

Haha, badass Muslim woman. Love it!!!

gothamcityballet

This lady is so awesome. She lives with her grandma and was studying and had a towel on her head and no shoes but she chased them out of her garden, kicked one up the arse as he climbed a fence, they dropped a camera and laptop, she flagged down a passing driver to help her continue the pursuit, and it turned out he was ex-military, and they finally caught one of them in a park and pinned him as the police arrived. Now she’s going to visit the burglar in prison for the next few months to help with his rehabilitation.

So in summary:

This lady doesn’t just defend her home and loved ones, she will hunt you down, team up with other skilled individuals, get you put away, and then teach you the consequences of your actions until you’re a valuable member of society once more.

Seriously she’s a frigging superhero.

pinstripebindi

but tell me again about how muslim women who cover can’t possibly be strong or empowered.

cleolinda

I can’t remember if I’ve reblogged this before and I don’t really care.

strangehorse

my boyfriend and I sometimes struggle to be on the same page when it comes to comforting- often i just want to vent and don’t need advice, whereas validation confuses him and he wants a plan of action

to counter this, we’ve come up with a system where we ask: “do you want advice, empathy, both or neither?”

if it’s just advice, i know to go straight to action points and not spend time on fluffy words

if it’s just empathy, he knows i want to be reassured and comforted and that’s all

if it’s both, it’s time for advice that recognises how hard the situation is and is perhaps gentler in nature

if it’s neither, just a hug is really good

i recommend trying to use this in your lives! it makes sure you’re giving and getting what you need, and reduces the risk of resentment or similar

claireodactyl

PSA for my fellow white people

Latino/Latina: originating from the Carribean, South or Central America. Gender neutral term (in English) is usually written as latinx.

Sentence: María was born in Ecuador, so she is Latina.

Hispanic: Spanish-speaking.

Sentence: José was born in Brazil, so he is NOT Hispanic, since his country’s official language is Portugese, but he IS considered Latino.

Mexican: from the Central American country named Mexico, NOT a language. NOTICE! not all Latinos in the US are from Mexico

Sentence: Enrique was born in Mexico, so he is Mexican. Enrique speaks Spanish, since “Mexican” is not a language.

Chicano/Chicana/Chicanx: a person of Mexican descent (usually born in the US)

Sentence: Anna’s parents were born in Mexico, so she identifies as Chicana. Her friend Miguel’s parents are from Colombia, so he identifies as Latino.

Spanish: a language spoken by many countries all over the world/ originating from the country Spain. NOTICE! not the only language spoken in Spain or South/Central America.

Sentence: Juan was born in Madrid, so he is Spanish. He only speaks Spanish, but has friends who speak other languages.

Quechua, Catalan, Nahuatl, Gallego, Euskera: other languages spoken in countries where Spanish is the ‘official’ language. Many Hispanics are bilingual and Spanish may not be their native language.

Sentence: Alba was born in a region of Spain called Catalonia. Even though she is Spanish, she speaks Catalan with her family and friends.

Sentence #2: Sofia was born in Mexico and does not speak “Mexican,” but her family does speak Nahuatl, a native language originating in Mexico.

That is all.

cursethecosmos-deactivated20170

Mandatory reading for my followers.

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