Mchoratio - And Flights Of Angels Sing Thee To Thy Rest

feeling cute today. might commit acts of hubris

you guys have no idea of how much I daydream about time travel

euripides, from “orestes”, an oresteia (trans. anne carson) // dead poets society, dir. peter weir // kill your darlings // if we were villains

people who put spoiler warnings for historical essays on book reviews websites. thank you

my hobbies include making hot tea, going to the library and daydreaming a lot

One thing to know about me is that I also have an annotated copy of the illiad. It’s an abridged version from my childhood and every time Hector’s name is mentioned it’s surrounded by glitter-gel pen hearts bc he was my first crush as a child.

Ronald Weasley

Hamlet: I sure showed those guys, huh?

Hamlet: Did you see how uncomfortable they got when I started crying?

google search how to recognise what you’re feeling when it’s not super intense or the Void

“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.

A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.

I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,

“I am the manager.”