25. She/Her. Writes. Reads. Yearns. Loathes the concept of having feelings || Side-account: the-oxford-bromma17 || My fanfiction || Also my fanfiction || Twitter
whenever i'm trying to talk myself out of buying something i don't need i always hear my old russian professor's voice echoing in my head: "WHAT??? WILL YOU DIE THE RICHEST MAN IN THE GRAVEYARD?" and then i make an unwise financial decision
now that i am a real adult i am starting to realise. media lied to me about the availability of rooftops to go hang out on. every day i wish i could be hanging out on a rooftop somewhere looking cool as fuck
there's no greater betrayal than finally starting to read a book you've had sitting for months on your shelf or your desk or your nightstand and then finding out it's bad. like. i gave you a fucking home.
i don’t think i can do it. i can’t even talk to people i don’t know. but this, i have to tell their fortunes and give them advice. and i don’t know how to talk to humans.
bonus: ongsa and her sun-moon are lesbians fanfic (the kerchief had a smiley sun and she saw a smiley moon. gayass loser.)(as if i didnt lose my shit when i noticed that detail)
never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱