“The room was silent except for the sound of nine girls breathing quietly and the rhythmic muffled avalanche that was Princess Jade asleep.

And, after a while, the sound of someone sobbing and trying not to be heard. It went on for a long time. There was a lot of catching up to do.” - Soul Music by Terry Pratchett 

tfw you get your emotions straightened out to a fairly normal state and then it suddenly hits you that your parents died a year a go and your only living family member is Death

when I read this scene for the first time it caused my heart physical pain? That’s not an exaggeration, I felt a twinge. I guess seeing Susan grieving was basically the most humanizing thing that could have happened, especially after an entire book of her grouchy and confused. It kinda rubbed in that she was going to be normal, or at least try really hard at it.

I just wanna give her a huge hug rn. Also I haven’t read past Soul Music for this arc pls no spoilers

One of my favourite things about Discworld women is the variety of approaches to sex/romance they represent and the general idea that all of them are okay.

There are of course your typical (only better) monogamous het romances like with Sybil, Adora, Magrat, Angua etc.

But there are also, let’s say, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg. The former is definitely aro/ace (Susan Sto Helit is arguably too) while the latter just enjoys sex. And it’s okay, they both are. Flashback with young Esme and Ridcully is kinda very cute, but Esme decided against marriage and we are given to understand she is happy with her life (as far as Esme can be happy). There’s no reason to feel pity for her or some shit like that. And there are lots of jokes about Nanny Ogg’s sex life, but none of them comes across as slut-shaming, no one really judges her or thinks she is somehow worth less as a person because she had active and non-monogamous sex life.

And then there are these not quite romances like with Tiffany and Roland or Susan and Imp, which are far more realistic than the notion of finding your true love in the first person that happens to catch your attention, and it’s okay too: you may fancy someone, you can spend some time together, but sometimes that’s all.

In the world mostly dominated by the narrative of “they’ve met, fell in love and lived happily ever after” and women being reduced to their love lives all of this is so refreshing and important.

She’d become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do.
And she’d taken to it well. She’d sworn that if she did indeed ever find
herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she’d beat herself to death with her own umbrella.

Terry Pratchett,