Sometimes, I drive myself crazy. I hate being so sensitive, and being a big baby crying over someone that isn't real, but makes me happy and sad all at once.
I bawl once a day at least for Stan, and I know it's stupid and illogical. But I sure as hell miss him constantly.
My nails are three weeks old. Haven't been able to get them filled in. I snapped on off at my real nail about a week ago so been walking around looking absolutely GOOFY with that.
Now today one legit popped all the way off. Didn't hurt. But im just so sad because I really liked these ones 😭
The one thing I enjoy getting done for myself and haven't in years and can't even keep up with them properly 🥺
I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.
Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:
Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao
this is so stupid :D
Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.
fun fact about me! I have hyperadrenergic Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (hPOTS). this means I am prone to fainting when I change positions or when I feel a strong surge of emotion, positive or negative. for me, laughing is my worst non-postural trigger.
this is a clip from playing lethal company with friends a few months ago. you can hear the eerie silence of presyncope at 0:19, and the sound at 0:23 is my face hitting the keyboard lmao. I played this for my mother and she literally pissed herself laughing and DEMANDED I show every single person I know (including my doctors, who thought it was funny to see and surprisingly helpful, especially for being audio only).
The urge to make him painfully hard when we're out in public.
To rub his inner thighs near his crotch while we're sitting next to each other, brush against his nipples by accident, whisper the most disgusting things into his ear, to kiss his pretty neck a second too long. To see him crumble, see his pupils dilate, his pants getting too tight.
To make him a dumb and blushy mess for me until he's not even able to talk, just waiting patiently like a good boy until I finally take him home.