Real life vs Societal expectations
Yeah, news flash people, boobs generally only look “perky” while in a bra. A few are super lucky and have naturally perky boobs, most don’t. And this is because, SURPRISE, boobs are intended to feed babies and it’s hard for a baby being cradled in mum’s arm to reach a nipple that’s on the other side of the boob from where its mouth is.
Think of a soda fountain machine. The spouts are all pointing down, right? So you can put soda in a cup being held under the spout? If the spout was sticking straight out, it would be really hard to get a soda out of it.
Babies need to be able to reach a nipple easily so they can eat. Ergo, nipples are usually lower and angled more downward on a naturally hanging boob, both so it’s easier for a baby to reach and so gravity can do its part in pulling milk toward the nipple.
So there you go, outright ANATOMICAL proof that boobs are not there for the benefit of men.
(Source: denicedenice, via sleepybuckybarnes)
My 9 year old brother started reading Harry Potter, and he asked me, so earnestly, “Were the Dursley’s mean to Harry when he was little?” I hadn’t thought much about it before, and he seemed so upset that I totally lied to that little kid. “NO! Of course they weren’t.”
But then I couldn’t get young Harry out of my head. There must have been a time before he was resigned to their neglect that he wanted their affection.
There will never be a time when I am not absolutely broken up over this.
(Source: daaakota.deviantart.com, via burningbra)
so the thing that surprised me most in the itunes promo was the “sammy let me go” note
like he’s a demon now so i expected him to leave something way more immature than that—i thought it’d be something like
and sam being like “……………..he’s fucking alive”
"When people say ‘This is my baby,’ they don’t always mean a baby. Sometimes they mean a dog."
"Good people are like candles; they burn themselves up to give others light."
I’m glad the portrait of Ben Franklin stayed the same on the new $100 bill. There’s something about his slight, tight frown, the paternal hint of disappointment in his eyes and those pursed, sealed lips that seem to say, “I don’t approve of what you’re doing, but I can’t stop you from rolling this banknote into a straw and ripping a fat rail of white lightning in the Buffalo Wild Wings handicapped bathroom stall, you goddamn beautiful disaster.”