in which a girl/woman/technical adult attempts to live life as a warrior forest nymph who wears combat boots and catches bullets in her teeth, but who actually ends up just sort of sitting in closets and eating homemade peanut butter cups instead
okay but when you have holocaust survivors and people who were activists during the civil rights movement supporting mike brown and then KKK members and neo nazi’s supporting the officer you should be able to figure out which side is the right one.
"One of the most interesting things about Elizabeth Turner was her Kiss of Death. Throughout the trilogy, all of the men she locked lips with has died - including Sao Feng in At World’s End, and (if you want to be petty about it) her father, Weatherby Swann. Usually they would die moments after kissing her for the first time. This excludes Will Turner who has kissed her several times before and beat the odds every time. However, even he succumbed to her kiss and died as well minutes after the two were hastily married by Barbossa.
This is most likely a just coincidence and not something that was intentional, but years later it’s still fun to point out to friends and watch a dawn of realization hit their face when they realize that Pirate Queen Elizabeth may have also been the Grim Reaper.”
"Yeah, Jill. I did. I fucked your dad, and I felt really bad about it. So I was like, ‘Hey Mr. Garvey, this is so wrong.’ And he was like, ‘Hey, let’s stop pretending to be okay, because no one is okay.’ And he was totally right. And he was so hard, Jill. So, I fucked the shit out of him on top of a pile of guns."
Sorry for how late this. I procrastinated really badly *shameful face*
If you have any requests for posts or questions leave them in my ask!
This is absolutely incredible! My own annotations are so erratic—I wish I had had this post late in high school or early in college.
"Your annotations are meant to serve a purpose."
"Only mark notes that will be useful later on."
This is really great advice. It is, and I think this is a great system that is much more useful than my old index card comment files.
However, nothing would ever have stopped me from marking up my margins with “hee!"s and "oooh burn!" or even "THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK NOW”, etc. Because reading academically is also fun.
Also, if you use any type of post-it in a book you plan to keep forever, remove the post-its when you’re done with your study of it, because some day you will pack that book in a box, leave the box in your dad’s garage, and unpack it many moons later to discover that critters have nibbled away all the edges of the pages to get to the sticky part of the post-it, and you will feel not only that you have done Edith Wharton a great disservice, but also a great sense of personal violation because obviously you can’t use that particular copy of that book ever again once it has been dinner for varmints.
"When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself ‘Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman."
I started toward him, and he backed away, talking rapidly. “I said to myself, “She’s mended ye twice in as many hours, me lad; life amongst the MacKenzies being what it is, it might be as well to wed a woman as can stanch a wound and set broken bones.’ And I said to myself ‘Jamie, lad, if her touch feels so bonny on your collarbone, imagine what it might feel like lower down…’”
He dodged around a chair. “Of Course, I thought it might ha’ just been the effects of spending four months in a monastery, without benefit of female companionship, but then that ride through the dark together-” he paused to sigh theatrically, neatly evading my grab at his sleeve- “with that lovely broad arse wedged between my thighs”-he ducked a blow aimed at his left ear and sidestepped, getting a low table between us-“and that rock-solid head thumping me in the chest”-a small metal ornament bounce off his own head and went clanging to the floor-“I said to myself…”
He was laughing so hard at this point that he had to gasp for breath between phrases. “Jamie… I said… for all she’s a Sassenach bitch… with a tongue like an adder’s… with a bum like that… what does it matter if she’s a f-face like a sh-sh-sheep?”
All I could think of when I saw this post and had to make something quick. I love me some intense, emoshunal Fraser talk but mostly love when these two act like total idiot children laughing on the floor with/at each other.