i was cuddling with my boyfriend last night when his shoulder started tensing up (like he was readjusting or gently pushing me off) and when i asked him if he was okay or needed me to move or something he went “no you’re fine, i was just imagining myself pulling a large rope. i didn’t even realize my shoulder was doing that lmao” then refused to elaborate and i have never been as attracted to him as i was in that moment.
i went to a tiny counterserve diner once and accidentally poured sugar instead of salt all over my hashbrowns and was eating them sadly anyways. the waitress took them away and started making me another one and I tried to protest, but she just snorted and said "we're not catholic here". now every time i'm doing something painful out of obligation i think about how that is not repenting, this body is not a catholic establishment, there is no nobility in suffering.
I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.
you don’t like country/folk/americana? you don’t like the soulful lamenting and colorful storytelling of poor workers and immigrants of the past? banjo banjo🪕?
my mom walked upstairs in her seal skin boots. Fjonka (my rabbit) came running to greet them (her seal skin boots). she sniffed them for a second. nuzzled them, before realizing they weren't breathing. horror dawned on her. she begun to understand she was dealing with something she couldn't comprehend. she backed off, without letting them out of her sight. she STOMPED to let them (the seal skin boots) know that she did NOT like this situation. my mom stomped back. Fjonka stomped harder, exhibiting a bravery and assertedness I had no idea she possessed. mom turned and went back down the stairs. Good job, Fjonk. You sure showed those undead vampire rabbits who's boss.