me, logging into ao3 5 minutes before bedtime: WAITER! bring me your finest enemies to lovers!
ao3 tag search function: excellent choice, sir! how would you like it cooked?
me: explicit. with a side of hurt/comfort
ao3: lovely! and may i suggest a drizzle of mutual pining?
me: of course, and can you add a spritz of angst? make it a 100k slowburn for good measure
ao3: coming right up, sir
me: thank you. oh, and waiter?
ao3: yes, sir?
me: make it gay
I CANT STOP LAUGHING AT THIS FANCY ASS HISTORICAL FRENCH MAN WITH A MEW
I wish you all a happy Neil banging out the tunes day
why do i end up sitting straight up in my sleep. ignore how many blankets I use.
Ares is gonna get his ass for sure
this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*
god forbid 5000 year old girls do anything
I have OCD and with that comes quasi-hallucinations, and I grew up watching a ton of horror films so some of the worst of mine are the standard white skin/black hair demon girl type shit.
However, because a lot of them are based on horror film I have found comfort in doing things that “go against” horror films and being like “see? This could never happen.”
(It’s irrational. I know that. But shut up. This is how I cope.)
For example: I started hearing garbled whispering from beneath my table, so I started playing the muppets sound track. Because they would never play Movin’ Right Along when the protagonist is about to get attacked. That won’t happen. Disney, who owns the muppets, wouldn’t give them the rights.
And it fucking worked.
dunno what i'm doing, but i'm doing something, and that's good enough for me (Rusty Lake is the Best)
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