(1818) Jane Austen’s Ghost *publishes Northanger Abbey* RIP the Gothic, Gothic fiction is more dead than me. Mary Shelley *dramatically throwing Frankenstein on the table* it’S A L I V E!!!!!!! IT’S A L I V E E E !!!!!!!!!!!! *💀💀💀*
“I know he’s the devil showing me the world that can be mine. So I don’t sell myself to him. I cost him a lot in little things, but I know he wants me to ask for something big. He’s dying to make me grateful. But he shan’t.”
Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion. | accepting
|| I think beefy, white, well-known FCs are overrated. No, I’m not tooting my own horn in some politically motivated attempt at being racially progressive, nor do I think I’m better than anyone for choosing a non-white FC. But! I do find it exhausting seeing some of the same actors half naked on my dash, sometimes for no reason. It feels more like baiting than an actual interest to roleplay, and my 29-year-old frequently laid ass can’t help but roll my eyes at it.
Disclaimer: Everyone should do whatever makes them happy. Including me, in the avoidance of what I find to be boring, white, chiseled bodies. |
(!!) I have finally managed to fix my side-blog so you don’t have to put up with my obsession with the Romantics anymore. (bravo!) | I’m lying, I’ll keep posting Romanticism-related things here, just not that much.
With the same care and understanding as he would treat a nervous beast, unsure of who was dealing with it, Newt pulled his hand back as though he’d touched fire when the woman withdrew from his touch. Both hands clung to his case in awkward concern – he didn’t want to bother her, but she had such a lost sort of look on her face that he couldn’t help but worry for her. Shaking his head at her plea of forgiveness, he offered a smile.
“Don’t worry, you haven’t bothered me at all. Are you all right?” he asks, lightly swinging the case behind himself. In his small ways, he was not an easily idle person.