today i learned that according to the New York Post, “Forty-two percent of women have experienced period-shaming, with one in five being made to have these feelings because of comments made by a male friend.” (x)
I kind of want to see an alt-universe version of Frankenstein where Victor doesn’t run away purely for the hilarity of watching this melodramatic weenie realise that he was so focused on attaining that moment of divine creation that he didn’t plan even one second beyond it, and now he has absolutely no idea what he’s actually going to do with his spooky monster offspring. Like, I don’t even mean in the long term – I mean he has no plan for getting the creature out of the room where it was created.
My favorite dynamic in both platonic and romantic ships are “we share the braincell” or “they are both very smart until you put them together and then they’re dumbasses.”