Patron Saint of having an actual real swoonworthy dreamy fanfiction husband irl
Aka: Patron Saint of being a smug little shithead who shares way too much about her sex life with her closest friends and is honestly shocked they haven't banished her yet for being an annoying horny toad. (Though, where would I even go? Aren't we all already in horny jail?)
And I'm not actually sorry since you always ask for more details anyway.
And who am I to question my fate when the man is going through something, and that something is great and I need to share the news with someone(s).
never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱
Sometimes when people on the Internet are like "ADULTS CAN NEVER INTERACT WITH MINORS IT'S CREEPY" I remember how, at 12, back in 1997, I was on the Witchvox forums with people ranging from me to people in at least their 50s, and no one there was ever a creep to me, no one ever made me feel uncomfortable or asked for my personal info, and when I finally broke down after a particularly brutal day of bullying at school and posted about it they were the first adults I'd ever met in my entire life who told me the bullies were the problem and it was okay to be angry about it.
Kids need to interact with adults who will listen to them.
Not socialist in a “I won’t have to work” type of way but socialist in a “I’ll still be working but I won’t be worried I won’t make the rent” type of way. In a “billions won’t be hoarded by one person” type of way. In a “janitors, fast-food workers, child care workers, preschool teachers, hotel clerks, personal care and home health aides, and grocery store cashiers, will live comfortably” type of way. In a “the sick and elderly will be cared for” type of way. In a “no child should work” type of way.