#uirukii

Oh, that’s a worrying question! --Because the answer might be “you read a censored version”. The original text is very clear that Eugenie Danglars is “Sapphic”, down to having her run away with her girlfriend (and sleeping in the same bed, even when there’s a second one in the room-- Dumas did not  want people to miss what was happening there).   But I’ve heard some editions/translations cut a lot of the references and the Bed Scene and try to make them over into just Gal Pals?  Did you get stuck with one of those? 

The book was like wading through molasses, seriously. I suffered so you don’t have to!

Oh yeah it is BY NO MEANS solely a marvel fandom alone. lmfao It was a kick in the pants tho when even JJ Abrams was like......I’m gonna do this shit too. Time for reylo and fuck finnpoe they’re BUDDIES but not “WARBUDDIES”

Auuugh I’m so sorry that happened! If you ever want to check the story out again, I’ll rec you a version that definitely has the Full Eugenie Danglars Experience! 

IDK. Another reviewer said “You don’t know what political party Jack Reacher belongs to, do you? Because he NEVER TELLS YOU. It’s not required for the story” and tbh, I think you actually NARROW your audience if you make it pro-one side or the other. Which makes no sense from a marketing perspective.

also had the chance to meet up with a good old friend @uirukii who was a delight!!

autumn is something akin to romance and falling in love and the cold breeze kissing your cheek is as close as you can get to the real thing for now and the trees rustle and talk to you, dying, looking for company and they are most beautiful as they let go of their colorful leaves; leaves falling in front of your feet in the quiet of the afternoon like an intimate procession, an offering, a welcome, “please come closer,” wind pushing your hair away to run down your neck under your jaw across your throat; ghosts carry your heart over plains and through woods just to hear the whispers of another; in autumnal murmurs they recognize you, recognize you, bare in this impending silence of the cold