Uneducated, Unemployed, Unloved

call his pussy british the way that I’m innit

One point that I hadn’t picked up on before but made perfect sense in light of this setting is that a lot of historical artefacts have locks on them. Cabinets, chests, travelling desks, wardrobes, books — instead of the boundary of ‘all my things I don’t want other people to access go in a locked and closed room’ you had ‘all my things I don’t want other people to access go in their own individual locked boxes in a room everyone in my household can access.’

Every morning, I put on my thinking cap and my smartiepants. Unfortunately, there is no shirt that properly proclaims my intellectual abilities, so I have to go tits out

thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3

nobody tells you this bc it’s stupid but the best thing to do while on your period is play the sims 4 on a laptop in bed. not only is the sims 4 more fun when you’re emotionally disregulated but the processing power required for the worlds least optimized & shittiest video game of all time will cause your laptop to actively try to kill itself and depending on your position while playing the 3000 degree nuclear meltdown occurring in your lap makes a wonderful natural heating pad. Pro gamer tip

I hate ruminating on what could have been. Out here thinking "if only I locked in when I was 13" are we serious