my first girlfriend moved away after 3 months and my second girlfriend went to a mental hospital about 2 months after we started dating and if that doesn't sum up my dating life then idk what does
That piece of dialogue from the devil wears prada where Andy says “My personal life is hanging by a thread” and Nigel says “Join the club, that’s what happens when you start doing well at work. Let me know when your whole life goes up into smoke, that means it’s time for a promotion.” Yeah that shit is resonating with me so hard rn.
I think it’s time for me to go fight my brain for a bit, ahaha...
what was the cringiest fandom you were in because I think everyone was in a cringe fandom once in their life :p
dare i say hypmic bc god. tbh where do i start first.
the god awful community. the god awful antiblack seiyuu. everything in the hypmic fandom is so BAD i literally forgot i was even into hypmic
the only time ill probably get back into it is to listen to some (keyword: some) of the good music and forget it exists for the next few years
dani midsommar is so sweet and kind and really trying to stay positive and polite to others in literally unimaginable circumstances and nobody in the whole movie is even a little bit nice to her except to manipulate her. kms
To be honest…
If Weiss/Marshmallow turned into a hedgehog… what would Sven do in that situation.
For some reason I see him attempting to paint their quills pink with animal safe dye to make her look like Amy Rose.
(Or maybe dye it black idk lol)
weve got a superiorly designed mitchell, a quick older mitch, a nick and an adam, the most cringe ass nae nae babies i can think of but god dammit they have won me over, so god help me lol
Turns out fucking around in the back of a truck is way easier IRL than in Blender. Who woulda thought
Considering how his place is abandoned, I would say mildew... And maybe a faint hint of rust from old keepsakes he might have? Other than that, if I were to go based off of his colors alone... Maybe star fruit, or ashes (b/c the red optic)... And a hint of tropical skittles.
"The rust and mildew I try to keep an eye on, but when your "room" is by the plumbing area there's only so much a fish can do!"
"The idea of smelling like skittles is fun though!"
People who reblog those lists that are like *send me an icon and tell me what you really think of me* are insane... does nothing scare you people?? The idea alone makes me nauseous 😩 lol
NOW I WANT TO DO THAT SILLY MISERY/CPR/REESES PUFFS MEME LOL
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Pierre feels the door to the cafe open before he sees it. A wave of stifling summer heat spreads in between the worn out booths and across the countertop from which he picks at the remnants of his turkey club. Pierre chews around a cold piece of rogue bacon idly; the lunch hour rush has come and gone, leaving only the sound of his foot tapping against the frame of his barstool and the distant hum of Sylvie washing plates in the kitchen. She'll lean her hip against the doorframe soon, drying her hands on a cloth and trying not to look around him towards the old radio clock at the edge of the table that must read: enough time to clock out early and pick the babies up from school yourself if you hurry.
To Pierre it just reads 3:30.
Maybe it’s the unanswered emails from his agent about the book deal he’s been dragging his feet on, or the message from his Maman about coming home for Lundi de Pentecôte, but there’s something that keeps him there until she will, even if the padding of the seat below him often leaves his back achy in the morning. Pierre can feel the creak in his hip building, his early morning plans to take Guismo to the trails feeling ambitious already. He can hear Pyry’s voice echoing There is always a next level to push to, we just have to give ourselves into it. Of course, that’s easier to say when the next level used to be a world championship, and not a nagging reminder from an old friend about his doctor’s prescribed daily exercise recommendations.
He winces then, when the the sound of the door chimes slip him out of his ruminations. Pierre turns to grab his jacket, satisfied to leave Sylvie on her own to deal with whatever company her newest patron brings when a long arm comes into view, gesturing towards the sign behind the counter that reads Lunch Clubs Now Half Price. Chicken or Vegetarian Available.
“These are the only things you can get here, or is there a menu somewhere in this place that I missed? That looks like turkey to me.” Esteban asks. He nudges the edge of Pierre’s plate, sounding amused.
“They’re about to close. And it is turkey, but I know the owners.” Pierre responds, but Esteban is already moving off the barstool next to him and picking at the jar of straws at the end of the counter. Pierre always thought he looked stupid, pushing the edge of the straw into his hip and peeling it out of the paper wrapping with his teeth.
Pierre makes a small noise of complaint, watching as the clock flips over to a quarter to the hour. The school buses will be rounding the street corner soon, windows latches open to let out the May air, hot and thick.
Esteban slips into one of the booths, smiling at Sylvie when she walks out from the back with an old menu and a water. Pierre watches the sweat of the glass drip down the back of Esteban’s hand when he takes it from her. He slides into the booth across from him with a huff.
They sit in silence for a while, Pierre keeping his eyes anywhere but on the way Esteban has bowed his head over his phone, scrolling through what looks like Slack open in front of him. Pierre wants to rip the phone out of his hand and dump it in the ice water sitting front of them
“Cap Ferret is pretty far from Paris,” he says instead.
“And yet, it doesn’t feel like it once you get here, does it?” Esteban responds, and he’s smiling a little.
Unintentional questions raised by pondering on the protag swap: If Kon was a mod soul who had not previously been exposed to a physical form outside of a capsule (likely, given his self reported time frame of creation at ONE STINKING DAY before all mod souls were ordered destroyed) .. Was Kon’s idea of his own maleness inherent, or was it inherited from Ichigo, since it was the first body he was exposed to? In an Orihime swap, such as the Red Version AU, would Kon consider himself a girl since his first exposure of a physical form would be...Orihime? Or would his first experience of freedom be paired with an unhealthy dose of body dysphoria? Would a mod soul created to be a convenient body-shunter-outer / corpse inhabiting war weapon even have an idea of a “correct” body? A unique identity at all? (Obviously, given Kon’s case, the last question at least is a resounding ‘yes,’ even if that identity is limited to freedom and survival, but the ones before are...still murky...)
Given the rules of shounen comedy I’m sure that such a question would be played for horny laughs, complete with canned laugh track in the background; however, I am not beholden to the rules of the genre at large and also I’M GENUINELY TROUBLED by this question.
Ideas of identity in the absence of social contact are thorny at the best of times, and given the added layer of an ‘artificial’ person such as robots, genetic experiments... mod souls... Every single construction of ‘youness’ is both discouraged and its authenticity called into question-- which Kon originally deals with when he’s first introduced!
figuring out phase 3 Jolligig little by little, starting with shapes!!
I really am incapable of playing 1st person games. It always leaves me feeling physically sick, it’s awful and such a shame that this means I’ll never get to experience certain games, because there’s no 3rd person option...
Anyone want to go to prom with me cause like currently I am going alone and I feel like I'm disappointing my younger self
