iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

People have been nagging me to share “the curry story” on here for ages, so alright, I’ll do it. (If you’re Indian and reading this, I am so sorry).

I swear to god, everything I am about to say in this story is true.

When I was eleven, I moved to a small town in rural England and acquired a new best friend at school. Her at that point seemingly-very-normal-parents- nice suburban house, three kids, trampoline in the backyard- invited me over for dinner, and said they were making curry and rhubarb crumble.

“Curry and rhubarb crumble”. Never in the history of mankind have words been so untrue.

The “curry” consisted of, I swear I am not making this up, a vague mixture of * deep breath, oatmeal, tofu sausages, corn, tomato juice, chopped onions, raisins, “leftover broccoli leaves”, kale, and scrambled eggs. The only spice in it was the tiniest smidgen of turmeric. All these ingredients were vaguely stirred together, undercooked, and stuck under a broiler for ten minutes. 

They gave me a massive portion. I somehow, I still don’t know how, was polite enough to finish it.

“I’m done,” I said.

“No,” said her father. “In this house, we LICK our plates clean.”

He did. They didn’t make me hold it up and lick it like they all did, but they did make me clean the plate with a piece of bread and my fork until they were satisfied.

Desert came. The rhubarb crumble was entirely unsweetened. Not so much as a raisin. I can’t remember what the crumble part was, because my mind is still haunted by the memory of being forced to eat an entire bowl of unsweetened rhubarb. You know in old Looney Tunes when characters would be tricked into eating allum and their heads would shrink? That’s what eating it felt like. They made me clean my bowl of that too, and wouldn’t let me leave the table until I finished. 

The next time, (I was in middle school and as yet too polite to turn down my best friend’s parents) they made “spaghetti and meatballs and salad”. The spaghetti was utterly plain and so undercooked it was crunchy, the “meatballs” consisted of a single large orb of some grey material i have yet to identify, and the salad was, i shit you not, limp boiled lettuce. Crunchy spaghetti, unidentified lumpy grey stuff, and boiled lettuce.

The fascinating thing is that, while yes, these people were obviously health nuts, it was so much more than that. They were health nuts who also cooked like aliens who had never seen human food before. Or like small children making “potions”. One of the more edible things they served to me once was a dessert they made up which consisted of halved apples rolled in cornflour with some milk poured on top. One time, they were convinced to make pizza as a treat. They decided to put an onion on it. Fair and fine, you’d think. Not in that house. They just cut the onion in half once, and stuck each unchopped half facedown on one side of the pizza.

Speaking of onions, one time, my friend decided to make a banana and yoghurt smoothie. Her dad came in, said it wasn’t healthy enough, and made her add an onion to it.

They had a homemade cereal I thankfully was able to opt out of trying which 100% looked like the contents of a vacuum bag. I still have no idea what it contained.

Amazingly, it was by no means just me who experienced this. It was a small town, and every girl in it my age had a selection of horror stories about being invited to dinner at this friend’s house in the exact same ritualistic horror-film fashion. We used to sit around comparing them at sleepovers. Age did not exempt you. One time, this friend’s six year old brother had a friend over for dinner at the same time, poor soul. His mom arrived to pick him up, and wasn’t allowed to take him home until he finished whatever crime against cooking was on the menu that night. 

Every story was the same. The ritual that never varied. Every time, these people would make a huge fanfare out of inviting you over for dinner, act all hospitable and excited, set the table, and then serve you a massive helping of the worst food in the world, and make you clean your plate of it, desert included. Who the hell forces you to finish your DESERT?

It’s a mystery to me. They clearly had SOME degree of self-awareness, because after I came to my senses and started coming up with excuses to avoid eating at their house they would tease me saying things like “ohoho, you don’t like LIKE our food do you”. If they had been a bit more fun and less generally puritanical sort of people, I could totally believe this was a family trolling activity where they secretly schemed to come up with the worst possible dishes, secretly filmed themselves forcing people to eat them and watched it and laughed afterwards, I could believe it.

All I’m saying is I’m pretty sure they weren’t aliens, but the more I type this out, the more tempted I am to believe it. Fuck it, maybe they WERE aliens.

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

purposely got him kidnapped in my durge run for the Flavour 🤌 because i had to dump him earlier to pursue my wyll romance and let me tell you i saw his empty spot at camp, caved immediately, reloaded, and got halsin kidnapped instead. i just love his dumb nerdy ass so much. i can't leave him with orin, are you kidding?

unstoppable force (me being a gale girlie and wanting him to be the one who gets kidnapped by orin for the Angst) vs immovable object (me being a gale girlie and either romancing him, playing as him, or simply never letting him out of my sight to give orin the chance)

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

“and part of this character’s arc is them learning how to be loved and cared for”

me every time: oh my god part of this character’s arc is them learning how to be loved and cared for

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[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

just found out that john cena is apparently inexperienced with drugs to the point that someone had to teach him how to smoke weed while filming peacemaker. so it would look real and not, you know, like a guy who's never smoked weed pretending to smoke weed. and can you fucking imagine. "what did you do at work today" oh i taught john cena how to do a bong rip. like, that's something someone actually did at their real life job. where they got paid real life money to teach former WWE star john cena to do a bong rip. it hurts to see someone else living your dream fr

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

people in books and tv shows are always getting so upset they throw an untouched meal in the trash. that would never be me. i'd receive the worst news of my life and still be like Let me put this in the fridge.

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

regrettably, i'm fully on the gale/drow tav boat

meme ref👇

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

I suspected you were a butt baby from the beginning.

DANIELLE BROOKS as LEOTA ADEBAYO in PEACEMAKER

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

good luck, soldier

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

SUPERMAN (2025) dir. James Gunn

+ bonus

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

me: oh man i really thought rengoku was like a main character in this! i thought for sure he wouldn't die that soon! i can't believe that. surely that's the last time that'll happen

my fiancé: haha yeah

me @ him when it looks like the sister's gonna die two seasons later:

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

truly wild how driving really does become like piloting a mech after a while. like it sounds so car-bro-y but the car genuinely does become like an extension of your body. your muscles are simply making the correct micro-movements to perfectly manouvre a giant piece of machinery through a constantly moving maze while your brain is busy singing karaoke. you can physically feel when a gap is too small for your car-sona to fit through, like a cat putting its whiskers into a crevice. your brain is suddenly able to do on-the-fly s=d/t calculations in a milisecond and tell you exactly how quickly you need to move to avoid an oncoming vehicle while turning across the road. why does driving unlock the unused 89% of my brain

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

Suction cup boi

(via)

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

me: teehee i'm gonna sleep with haarlep this playthrough so i can get the funny line to taunt raphael with after! this'll be great!

narrator, the next day: you feel a shiver run down your spine. you can feel that haarlep is using your likeness to pleasure someone

astarion, immediately clocking it and being heartbreakingly genuine for like the first time this whole game: i know that look. it's that succubus, isn't it? i know what it's like, to lose control of your own body. it's a wretched thing. i know, i know, you made your vow and what's done is done, but... still. i'm sorry you have to go through it.

me:

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

setting up a tiny detail in one chapter to pay it off in the next few chapters feels sooo devious like oooh i can't wait to write the small little reference here that 70% of readers will miss but 30% of readers will cheer for