My New Creative Writing Project Is Suffering Greatly From Me Knowing I Will Never Write An Enemies-to-lovers

My new creative writing project is suffering greatly from me knowing I will never write an enemies-to-lovers as compelling and loveable as Jack and Alan. I am simply too intimidated to even try getting anything written.

Then again, I really need to work on this ”it’s not worth doing if it isn’t great” tendency of mine

ive found that partially treated mental illness can sometimes look to uninvolved onlookers like faked mental illness.

This is an unstoppable force vs an immovable object situation

Horny ass thoughts of the day:

Alan telling Jack if he wants to fuck he’s gonna have to beg for it and Jack getting on his fucking knees and begging like a dog without thinking twice

Alan shaving jacks face. The eroticism of trusting another man to hold a blade to your throat. Alan telling Jack he’s an idiot and shouldn’t trust him that much and Jack saying “I know. But I do.”

The Rent scene in saltburn would have sent Jack and Alan into a coma (committing public indecency in the movie theatre)

@daveyfvckingjacobs I just want you to know that “a man can only say ‘yes father I am still queer’ so many times before he looses his will to live” plays in my head endlessly

I should learn to gamble. I mean, the pokerface I’ve developed from reading smut in public HAS TO be good.