beeshrektestinthemall:

-barbarian ogre with hermit background

-awakened donkey companion that rolled to seduce a dragon

-half-ogre fighter (some levels in bard) and noble background

-tabaxi rogue with excellent charisma stats

cuddlebabies:

I genuinely don’t know what to say to people who hate ABBA like

if you change your mind

I’m the first in the line

cloudytomboy:

hungwy:

hungwy:

Italy is the horniest country on the planet

Horniness is derived from proximity to the Vatican

Horniness is like a hurricane and the pope is the eye

mechalesbian:

booty shorts that say “god won’t let me die” on the ass

thereaintnothing:

bagofbirds:

pronoucing wlw “woulez-wous”

wlw AHA take it now or leave it

bubblegum-pwussay:

Where do men learn to be manipulative so young like they’ll be in 8th grade and already half psychopaths.

anais-ninja-bitch:

matt-the-blind-cinnamon-roll:

tjmystic:

So, when I was doing my thesis on whether or not fanfiction should be considered a legitimate genre of literature, my advising professor asked me for examples.  I gave him the generic ones, of course – “Pride & Prejudice and Zombies” is a horror fanfic of “Pride & Prejudice”, “50 Shades of Grey” is an erotica fic of “Twilight" – and that seemed to make him understand what fanfiction is, but not how it’s useful.  So I thought about it, and, after about a minute, I said, “Paradise Lost is basically a fanfiction of the Book of Genesis.  And The Divine Comedy is an epic self-insertion fic for Catholic doctrine.  So, basically, you were teaching us fanfiction last semester.”  I had never before seen a grown man’s eyes widen with such fear, incomprehension, disgust, awe, and understanding.

#does that mean the renaissance was almost entirely fan art?

Yes. Yes it does. All ur classic favs had the Renaissance version of DeviantArt. 

l i s t e n

ALL of literature IS by definition fanfiction. Check out Julia Kristeva, guys

daddyslittlebot:

daddy’s little kin drama

virgodura:

“There’s a particular sentence of Woolf’s that haunts me; I’ve written about it before, without managing to exorcise it. It appears in her novel Jacob’s Room: ‘It’s not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it’s the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses.’

…In his autobiography, Leonard Woolf writes with pain and some bewilderment about the way in which complete strangers would react to his wife: ‘ … to the crowd in the street there was something in her appearance which struck them as strange and laughable … people would stare or stop and stare at Virginia. And not only in foreign towns; they would stop and stare and nudge one another – “look at her” – even in England, in Piccadilly or Lewes …’

Leonard makes the observation that these incidents tended to happen at moments when Virginia was lost in thought – when she had, in a sense, forgotten herself. There was something in her expression or comportment in those moments, which, taken with her unusual mode of dress, made her appear anomalous to people. Like her clothes, her manner marked her out as a woman who went out into the world without apparently caring how she appeared in it. And, as I would find out when I walked back from Canons Park station without giving my appearance a conscious thought, that is a risky way for a woman to proceed. A woman should never forget that whatever else she is, she is also an object.”

—Joanne Limburg, “What was Virginia Woolf afraid of?”