the whole “listen to classical music when you’re studying or doing homework” thing is such bullshit. u think i cant fucking jam to chopin? satie? beethoven? fuck you. i hear the first bar of prelude in b minor and i start fucking headbanging
Hey remember that one time I didn’t give a fuck what assholes thought and I decided to wear whatever the fuck I want because I’m pretty damn cute? Cuz I sure do.
HI HELLO it’s been 4 years since I first posted this, and I thought I’d add an update. Check out the 30 lb glow up. Bigger and better than ever, and still loving a good high waist.
I love the level of disrespect the Twilight fandom has for its author. And I’m not even talking about hatred and disappointment like the Harry Potter fandom has for Rowling, or the annoyance the Game of Thrones/ASoIaF fandom often shows towards GRRM. I’m talking total indifference. The Twilight fandom takes Stephanie Meyer and her canon updates as seriously as they’d take some random person leaving a lengthy and opinionated review of “Twilight” on its Goodreads.com page
Kastle foreshadowing in daredevil s2 – Karen Page edition.
1. Tracing Frank’s x-ray (what’ll later be the outline for his memenro mori). 2. Spending three hours doing research about what really happened (almost forgetting a preset date she had). 3. Letting go of Matt’s hand as soon as she sees Frank. 4. Helping him remember his family (which he later counts her as a part of). 5. Mirrored expressions when Foggy struggles with his opening statement (this one’s just cute). 6. The book Frank read his daughter, Karen being drawn to it (before she has any reason to know the significance). 7. He stole her car, and it’s cute. 8. She’s the only one who sees him, and whispers ‘frank’, clearly overcome with relief that he’s not, in fact, dead.
One of my favorite things about writers is that you can post any vaguely relatable “writer’s problems” sentiment and writers will use it to call themselves out. It’s like going up to a stranger of a fellow writer and saying, “Hey, are you down to absolutely roast yourself?” And the answer is always an enthusiastic, unwavering, “Oh, hell yes, let me tell you about this fuckin’ bitch.”