5 ways people are going "All In" this week
From the silly to the sentimental, there are so many ways people like to go “all in” on something. Here are our five favorite examples this week.
When you hear the words “all in,” what do you think? You might picture a color-coordinated, fairy-themed surprise proposal that took months to create, or maybe you think of a singer who went on stage and nailed the perfect high note in front of everyone (like this girl). Whatever you picture, the idea is the same: Going “all in” means doing something with total commitment—literally giving it your “all” and going completely over the top. No second guessing, no holding back—just full-throttle enthusiasm with some creativity and flair thrown in. That’s how we get those viral internet moments we can’t stop watching.
When people decide to go “all in,” something special usually happens as a result, and we’re here to show you how. This week, we’ve found the very best examples of people going “all in” across the Internet—moments where passion, creativity, and commitment take center stage. Follow along and feel inspired.
Hamilton superfans
@itz.unique POV: You seen Hamilton the first night in theaters #hamiltonmusical #fyp #relatable #hamilton ♬ original sound - Uniii 😜
You already know we love a good Hamilton reenactment. This past weekend, though, Hamilton fans took their love for the musical to a whole other level. As theatres released the filmed stage production in honor of the musical’s tenth anniversary on Broadway, theatre kids everywhere showed up in costume and belted out every single word (it’s okay to sing in the theatre this time, by the way! Hamilton creator and star Lin-Manuel Miranda totally said we could). Some theatres sang along quietly, some chimed in loudly at the emotional parts, and some theatres truly went all in, staging elaborate reproductions of the scenes in the aisles, in time with the music. A bunch of theatre kids totally nerding out together, having fun, and celebrating good art? We love to see it.
Everyone's love of Pumpkin Spice Lattes
@deangelodbyrd It’s hereeee 😂🍂 #pumpkinspicelatte #fall2025 #funnyvideo #silly #funnydance @Starbucks ♬ original sound - DeAngelo
You know it's fall when you start seeing those plastic cups everywhere. That's right—it's Pumpkin Spice Latte season. Everyone is drinking them. Everyone is posting about them. Everyone is figuring out the perfect PSL pairing, whether that's pumpkin spice matcha lattes or just drinking a PSL curled up on the couch watching some spooky movies. (How about all of the above?)
Here's our recommendation: Pumpkin spice lattes pair perfectly with All In snack bars—specifically the Madagascar Vanilla + Almond option. It's got honey, it's got pumpkin seeds, and it's even got tons of fiber so you're getting some nutrition along with all the deliciousness. Don't take our word for it, though: Click here to try it yourself (for free).
This rendition of the Happy Birthday song
@kamoramakaylee Happy 84th birthday to our dad #tbt ♬ original sound - Kamora
There’s singing the Happy Birthday song, and then there’s singing the Happy Birthday song. This group of sisters did the latter. For their father’s birthday, they presented him with a cake (aww) and then launched into an embellished musical production of the last two lines that would put Whitney Houston to shame. The girls truly went all in, but perhaps the best part of this entire video is their dad,sitting wide-eyed at the table and gritting his teeth until the performance is over. (“He’s fine,” someone said in the comments section. “He lost his hearing ten birthdays ago.”)
Llama costumes
@kristeninmn Some of the costumes from the Minnesota State Fair’s 4-H Llama-Alpaca Costume Contest! #minnesotastatefair #mnstatefair #exploremn #onlyinmn #stpaulminnesota ♬ Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra
Every year at the Minnesota State Fair, the 4-H Llama-Alpaca Costume Contest steals the show. In it, participants dress their llamas in wildly imaginative costumes—everything from a sea anemone to a bucket of popcorn to Buzz Lightyear from the movie Toy Story—and transform the livestock barn into a whimsical runway. Every glittery cape, hand-painted prop, or themed outfit is a testament to their creativity, their time and effort, and most importantly their love for animals. All of it is on full display and it’s seriously impressive work. You can tell when it comes to their animals (and creativity), Minnesotans don’t hold back.
This dog who's totally faking it.
@binkythechichi2 The king of drama
♬ original sound - cass
Okay, you have to give this guy some respect—he really doesn’t want his owner to go to work and he’s found an absolutely genius way of showing it. As soon as her alarm goes off in the morning, TikTok creator Cassidy Butler shared that her chihuahua Binky runs to the front door and actually starts faking injuries to get her to stay home with him (and sometimes, she admits, it works). Binky is absolutely committed, holding up his paw as though it were injured, plus shivering and even squinting one eye to show just how injured he is. He’s almost perfectly convincing—until Cassidy offers to take him outside to play and he momentarily breaks character. Oops! Still, we respect his dedication to the craft.
Snag your free (!!) snack bars here while this deal lasts. Just pick up a box at Sprouts and text a pic of your receipt to get it for free. Enoy!
Don Draper from AMC's "Mad Men" Image via "Mad Men" AMC
John F. Kennedy with his family Image via Wikicommons
Sandra’s granddaughter, E’s daughter, and another friend at an indoor park (July 2025)
One of the ladies Sandra sponsored from Venezuela and her partner during Sandra’s first visit to meet her (December 2023)
two vintage rings 
A welcoming outdoor sauna
A window overlooking a beautiful view
Aboriginal art 
A bookcase door leading to a secret room
A Murphy bed that hid a model train setup 
A Murphy bed that hid a model train setup 
A handwritten note with the words "good job!" on it
A man smiling
A dad with his kid on his shoulders
E.T. looks up. 
Who doesn't love a quaint apartment building?
Regulations on staircases limit housing possibilities in the U.S and Canada.
It's hard to date when you're fat, but not for the reasons you might think.
"You know what I like about you? You’ve got fat pride. I felt that way, too, until I realized I wanted anyone to fuck me ever."
We’d been talking online for weeks — he was funny, erudite, nerdy, kind. He’d told me he’d lost weight in the past. I’d done my due diligence of telling him how fat I was, working hard to avoid repeats of past hurt and disappointment. I’d weeded through dozens of profiles about wanting to meet "healthy," "active" women and several that pointedly instructed that fat women weren’t welcome. Many men had sent graphic, sexual messages, and when I politely declined or didn’t respond, they issued lengthy screeds. "U SHOULD BE GRATEFUL." "I wouldn’t even rape you."
In amongst all of that, I’d found someone who seemed like a gem. And then, on our first real date, this. It was frustrating, isolating, and made me feel so big and so small, all at the same time.
I gently pushed back. "You know you’re saying that about me, too, right?"
"What?"
"When you talk about no one wanting to fuck fat people, you’re talking about me, too."
He shook his head. "Don’t take it personally. It’s not personal."
I got quiet then asked for the check. He said he’d walk me out. When we got outside, he tried to kiss me then asked if I wanted to go back to his place.
Years later, I was falling for a new partner.
We’d been dating for several months, and she was extraordinary: full of life, wildly intelligent, absurdly beautiful. I’d tell her often — maybe too often — how stunning I thought she was. With equal frequency, she’d talk about my body. "You’re so brave to dress the way you do." "I want you to feel empowered."
At first, her responses sounded like reciprocity, but they always seemed to sting. I felt deflated every time she said it. Like that first date, she couldn’t see past my body. She valued me, but she didn’t desire me. When she spoke, she never spoke about my body — only about my relationship to it. She was amazed that I wasn’t sucked into the undertow of self-loathing and isolation that she expected from fat women. Those comments were a reminder of how frequently she thought of my body, not as an object of desire, but as an obstacle to overcome. She was impressed that I could. She could not.
When you and I talk about dating, dear friend, we have a lot of overlapping experiences because dating can be difficult and awkward for anyone.
It’s a strange auditioning process: all artifice to find someone who can respect your uncrossable lines, and failed auditions usually mean those lines get crossed. It’s easy to feel judged, stalled, alone in the process. It can get exhausting, exciting, frustrating, exhilarating.
But dating as a fat person means contending with so many added layers of challenge.
You told me once you imagined it was impossible to date as a fat person. It’s not; it’s just a lot of work. Lots of people are willing to sleep with fat people. Many are willing to date a fat person.
Few are willing to truly embrace a fat person. Almost no one, it seems, really knows what that means.
That first date, dear friend, is such a frequent moment.
My sweet, funny date was abruptly overthrown, overtaken by years of the same anti-fat messages all of us hear. He couldn’t reconcile being fat and being loved. All of that, suddenly, was visited upon me, as it so often is.
I only bring up my feelings about being a fat person after knowing someone for some time. But, with startling regularity, new acquaintances, dates, and strangers offer diet advice, trial gym memberships, and, even once, a recommendation for a surgeon. My life as a fat person is a barrage of weekly, daily, and hourly offers of unsolicited advice. At first, the detailed answers, the constant defense, the explanation of my daily diet and medical history are ineffective — no answer is sufficient. Over time, it becomes burdensome, then exhausting, then frustrating. And it doesn’t seem to cross the minds of most people I meet that I’ve heard what they’ve said before — not just once, but over and over again, in great detail. I have a forced expertise in diets, exercise regimens, miracle pills, and the science of weight loss.
That may not be your experience, dear friend, because people may approach you differently.
You might not know what it’s like to feel your face flush or your heart race when your body so reliably becomes a topic of conversation during dinner parties, work events, first dates. There’s a familiar wave of frustration, hurt, and exhaustion. It’s all the visceral, invisible consequence of unintended harm because few of us — even you, my darling — have unlearned the scripts we’re expected to recite when we see a body like mine.
As a fat woman, I just want what anyone else wants: to be seen, to be loved, to be supported for who I am. To be challenged and adored. To be worth the effort for who I am.
When I meet people whose first response to me is about my fat body, I learn something important about that person. Whether their opening salvo is "Fat bitch" or "I’m concerned about your health" or "Have you tried this diet?" or "I think you’re beautiful," they all send the same message: that I am invisible. Rather than seeing me or getting to know who I am, they can only see my fat body.
It’s true of so many people I meet. They’ve got this deep-seated block: They can’t see fat people as individual people with individual stories because no one expects them to. Nothing in our culture indicates that fat people might have individual experiences, different stories, life experiences as rich and varied as anyone else. Instead, we’re met with diagnosis, prognosis, quarantine: an anthropological impulse to demand to know why we are the way we are and to figure out how to stop us from having the bodies we have. We’re reduced to figures in an equation, a puzzle to solve. But truthfully, we’re so much messier than that. We’re just as contradictory, real, and human as anyone else you know, and loving us is just as complicated.
When we have conversations like this, you often say, "I had no idea."
It’s heartening, dear friend, and it’s also hard to hear. It’s a harsh reminder that even those closest to me are subject to all those same influences and impulses.
There’s so much work in just working up the mettle to date at all. Building your own confidence and battling your own doubt enough to date at all can be difficult, in part because there’s no template. Media representation is seriously lacking for many communities; seeing thriving fat people in media is nearly nonexistent. Being fat means not seeing yourself reflected anywhere as being happy, healthy, or affirmed.
Being fat means taking on the Sisyphean task of creating your own world, one in which you can declare a truce with yourself and learn to feel OK or feel nothing at all about yourself when the entire world seems to be telling you that is not possible.
It means finding whatever you can scavenge to build yourself some makeshift shelter of thatch and driftwood. It’s brittle and dry, and it’s something. You try to build something that can withstand the gale-force winds of seeing an episode of "The Biggest Loser" or hearing a stranger offer unsolicited diet advice that you’re already taking. You build it slowly, painstakingly — testing methods and gathering rare, essential materials over time. It’s precious and fragile, a labor of love and a means of survival.
And finding a partner means opening that hard-fought home to someone else, over and over again, knowing that person might destroy it.
Usually, they do.
You’ve mourned it a hundred times. Your skin has thickened. Sometimes that person burns it to the ground, setting a fire to watch it burn. But more often, they just forget to extinguish their cigarette. Yes, when we look for love, some of us are hurt intentionally, cruelly, because of our bodies and because of overt fatphobia. But usually, we’re hurt without malice, through rote scripts about who we’re allowed to be and an expectation that we’ll devote our lives to meeting those expectations.
Often, when looking for friends and partners, I search for those who will be gentle with the home I’ve built, ramshackle though it is.
What made such an impression on my partner from years ago was that I didn’t stop there: I wanted someone who would help build that home, someone who would protect it, someone who would call it their home, too. Because a lack of harm isn’t love.
I want love. And as a fat person, there’s audacity in that.