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She ignored the way her breath caught and reminded herself that gruff was a synonym for “acts like an asshole because other people enable him.”
She felt the sudden, ingrained shame of having asked for something she wanted, but fought against it and waited.
She knew from experience that when you tried to bottle your feelings up inside, you inevitably sprang leaks in places that seemed entirely unrelated.
“Here’s the thing with teasing. It might seem like torture now, sitting there wanting what you can’t have, but when you finally get it? It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.
Everyone acts like you’re just supposed to find what you love right away, and if you don’t, just do something you don’t love. And if you do neither of those things you’re being selfish.”
People focused so much on the prince slipping on Cinderella’s lost shoe that they didn’t realize the real happily ever after was the moment she realized she was brave enough to go to the damned ball alone in the first place.
That was the thing with creating something; you put some bit of yourself into it, if you did it well, but fuck if you could control what bit of yourself that was.
Sometimes it was a simple text sent from a friend thousands of miles away, a thing lots of people would call insubstantial, that felt like the most solid thing in her world.
when you talk about fake personas and silly rituals, remember that some of us can’t opt out of that stuff. Before I even open my mouth, I’m judged based on whether I’m perceived to be pretty enough or wearing the right thing—not too revealing, not too frumpy, not too cheap looking, not too fancy. When I do talk, it’s whether I’m articulate enough. So while you’re rightfully annoyed by this, just remember that at least half of the population has to adopt these fake personas and silly rituals just to get through the day.”
“How are these secured?” he growled, tugging at the waistband. “Magic? Are these chastity trousers?” She grinned against his mouth. “Mmm, yes, they’re enchanted. Only the chosen one can get into them. Pantscalibur, or as they were known in Middle Welsh, Pantsvich
She hadn’t defended her castle well at all. She’d let down the drawbridge and invited the invader in, and now he was wreaking havoc on her heart, and not just with his heavy, long two-hander.
If there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s feeling bad. Hell, sometimes we’ll take a tiny inconsequential thing and turn it into DRAMA for no damn reason. We’re so used to being wrong that we invent shit to be wrong about! ADHD is a trip.
loads of people hacked their way into adulthood through the field grown from all the wild oats they’d sown. Some people’s fields were smaller, some larger, and Tav didn’t think it particularly mattered as long as people reached a mutual agreement about whether their farming days were over, on hiatus, or some kind of special schedule.
