Me at the beginning of this year: I’m so gonna fix my life dude this is gonna be the year everything changes I’m not gonna let anything slip through the cracks it’s time to live
Me approaching the end of March:
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Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them
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i keep thinkin about katsuki who just doesn’t give a fuck. like, yeah he’ll walk over and pull you closer by the waist to press kisses all over your mouth to hear you giggle. and yeah he’ll groan and jokingly tell you to “stop runnin’” when he’s slobbering n’ biting all over your cheek while you try to push him away in between giggles and pecks. so what if he’s right outside of his classroom and what he’s doing is quote unquote “inappropriate ” ? you’re his girl. you mean to tell him he’s supposed to walk right past you and not try to initiate a make out session at 8 in the morning ??? while you’re looking like that ?? yeah right, mind your business glasses !!
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I love that the show is giving Grover so much more screen time and is really diving deeper into his character. Particularly his reaction to his uncle’s death.
In the books, he was a little shocked when he first saw his statue at Medusa’s place but he quickly moved on.
In the show, he was visibly grieving and the first thing he said to Augustus was that his uncle died and he doesn’t know how to talk about it with his friends. Or rather, he doesn’t think they’d understand.
There’s just this clear divide between his perception of the world and Percy and Annabeth’s perception.
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Adore each other. Be fiendishly smitten. Be frantically in love. Can there be too many perfumes, too many rosebuds, too many nightingales? Can lovers love each other too much, be too enchanting, too beguiling, too charming? Is it possible to be too much alive, too happy? Adore each other, and never mind the rest.
— Victor Hugo, Les Misérables (1862)
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