Life has tossed me away like yesterday’s jam.
I don’t know what a carrd is and at this point I’m afraid to ask.
The never ending passage of time has wrapped its withered claws around my soul (I’m an adult).
adult women aren’t inherently creepy for being in fandom and having hobbies apart from raising babies and doing taxes
the vast majority of people pushing back against the worrying trend of instigating harassment over fictional characters and relationships aren’t incest supporters or pedophiles, actually
liking a m/f ship doesn’t make someone a dirty heterosexual invading your space
preferring gay ships doesn’t make you ‘’woke’’ and good
no one owes you a disclaimer that they are a good person who recognizes that their favorite fictional villain’s actions are evil and that they don’t condone those actions irl
liking a fictional villain is in no way comparable to advocating abuse/murder/genocide/etc and you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that
just because a woman is attracted to a fictional villain doesn’t mean she’s promoting toxic relationships or going to end up in a toxic relationship. assuming women can’t tell fiction and reality apart stinks of internalized misogyny
some rando’s a/b/o fanfics have none of the level of influence that popular tv shows and movies spreading propaganda have
no one owes you a detailed description of their traumas and mental health problems
abusive relationships are not the same as enemies to lovers ships
y’all need to chill the fuck out over people, relationships, actions and events that don’t actually exist and learn how to enjoy and discuss them like normal people
Public speaking is actually really easy if you don't respect a single soul in that room. I've had an incredibly easy time delivering speeches when I hated everybody I saw and they all thought I did amazing because my disdain was read as confidence. I don't have any tips for you I'm just telling you a fact
"He wished that he could break out his knitting, but for some reason, people didn’t take you seriously as a warrior when you were knitting. He’d never figured out why. Making socks required four or five double-ended bone needles, and while they weren’t very large, you could probably jam one into someone’s eye if you really wanted to. Not that he would. He’d have to pull the needle out of the sock to do it, and then he’d be left with the grimly fiddly work of rethreading the stitches. Also, washing blood out of wool was possible, but a pain."
"Paladin's Grace (The Saint of Steel Book 1)" by T. Kingfisher
me as a child: this "$4.99" sales stuff is idiotic, anyone can instantly round this up to $5 in their mind, no one is falling for this
me as an adult: oh wow only $4 (with some additional numbers behind it), that's great because if it was a single dollar more that would have been the last straw for me in my miserable life
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