being bilingual is understanding but not being able to translate because your brain couldn’t be bothered to do any extra work and is just content with knowing what the heck is going on
So last week I tried moaning every time I ate something delicious.
It was vaguely uncomfortable and unnatural
I actually love the idea of doing this trying out fanfic/literary cliche’s out in real life, kinda wanna make up a list and undertake it as a challenge.
don’t forget to make your butthole flutter today
Guess someone’s eye color from 20 feet away.
Be careful with these. I started reading fanfiction three years ago and now I have to toe my shoes off to get my feet out.
But do you pad across rooms?
Yes but I often give away my position when I huff.
FYI, I’m smirking at all y’all.
I’m resisting the urge to card my fingers through everybody’s hair.
This is as good a time as any to admit that right now I smell like coffee, sandalwood soap, and something uniquely myself.
I hate this post so much I clenched my fists and looked away, muscles bunching in my jaw.
i’m so glad to see i’m not alone, i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding
I’m blushing furiously from the accuracy of this post.
i think my age group is just going to have to live with the fact that half of us are always going to be burdened by the glee covers. we’re never going to be able to listen to a bunch of songs without thinking of the glee version. i envy those who don’t have this curse. those who don’t hear rachel berry and finn hudson singing together in the background of so many songs, while mercedes hits a high note and kurt or puck sings a verse with one of the unholy trinity. those who can hear jump without thinking of the mattress commercial. those who can listen to a song as iconic as bohemian rhapsody and don’t have flashbacks to vocal adrenaline performing it at regionals intercut with shots of quinn fabray in labour. who don’t close their eyes at night and hear “this one’s for you artie!” vogue by madonna is forever tainted by “will schuester, i hate you.” i’m never going to willingly listen to run joey run but if i ever heard it in public i know that the only thing i’d be able to thing about is rachel’s terrible music video. there are people out there who are able to listen to rumour has it without hearing naya rivera as santana lopez cut in with lines from someone like you and you know she keeps glancing at brittany s pierce played by heather morris as her life falls apart. walking on sunshine played on the radio the other day and i was surprised when i didn’t hear halo mashed up with it and ALSO ANGELS. don’t even get me started on faithfully, any way you want it/lovin’ touchin’ squeezin’, let alone don’t stop believing. this show and all it’s covers are burned into my mind and i envy those who don’t face my struggle.
☆tired eyes. coffee stains on the table. listening the bustle of the city. unmade beds. loose ponytails. sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips. walking barefoot across the floorboards. dusty dictionaries. black and white reruns. huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning. fireplaces. falling asleep during class.
RENAISSANCE
☆
freckles. the sun rising. watching the sea. taking shots of the city. historical museums. bright eyes. looking up at the clouds. walls covered in artworks. drawing in the middle of lessons. tracing your fingers on the sand. painting for hours. staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks. messy braids. going to bed with your socks on.
BAROQUE
☆
dark hair. a little sophisticated. always observing the world around you. intricate designs. high ceilings. extravagant musical pieces. dim lights. colorless photographs. fancy furniture. pale skin. hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks. bitten nails. candlelight dinners. dark shades of lipstick.
CLASSICAL
☆
chandeliers. the clinking of a teacup. laced clothing. modern architecture. light hair. watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks. drinking tea in the morning. wandering about in an empty building. botanical gardens. old films. ancient marble sculptures. expensive perfume. breakfasts in bed. reading about mythology.
ROMANTIC
☆
compassion. short writings on scraps of paper. blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses. reading collections of poetry late at night. loose hair. carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday. the night sky. streetlights. picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses. scented candles.
preparing for reading this fic like it’s a romantic evening in, I’m making a special meal in the actual oven and I’m gonna wear my favourite outfit (my pyjamas) and dim the lights and put on music I might even pour a glass of wine
someone’s getting laid this evening and it’s my favourite fictional character
persephone's corner 