Imelda going through an existential crisis while Seb is just like “some people have bigger problems” is such a mood
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SY googling the ethical morality of sugaring for a guy who has no money and writes bad porn
Finally finished my cumplane ss gift for SteamingOwl on Twitter! I mashed together their requests for modern au, conventions, sugar didi SY, and,,,,just these two being idiots in general. Hope they enjoy it!!!
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Dude my weird ass random otome game phase was WILDDDD
I will list them all in the tags bc I need to attract others like me
(After adding tags)
I’ve discovered that I have a problem (fictional men)
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So, in an attempt at calming myself down I ended up drawing these two pictures
and now I'm considering taking them with me to the concert tomorrow, but I'm not sure if I really should?
I don't think I'll get the chance to give them to Jere and Häärijä and I don't know if they would even want to have them lmao
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one thing about the 911 writers is that they are gonna make Eddie go Through It. every season they take one look at his big brown eyes and go, we need to make this man Suffer.
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*I mean hey, not everyone gets to see themself get buried...*
It's still March 5th somewhere, right?
(Also 100 tumblr followers?!? LIKE WHAT?!)
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Re watched ep 5 of Hazbin yesterday and I just kinda laugh at the beginning of Charlie and Lucifer’s song cause like Lucifer is explaining in between wheezing gasps that heaven won’t listen and Charlie is all
“HOW DO YOU KNOW?!?”
Like .. um ma’am .. maam your father is Lucifer … um how do you think he got into hell…. It wasn’t a first class plane trip lmaoooo.
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ah fuck we had a department meeting where they told us that starting next month we have to learn a whole new billing program that's "enhanced with AI"
and after the meeting I had a full on panic attack and I'm still shaking
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Chapter 2 of Under the Blossom Snow is out!
A sudden rustle and a figure emerges from the base of the tree, startling Yuta, who instinctively reaches for the katana he left behind. His eyes focus on the shadowed, looming figure, leaving him dazed—the form, a man or perhaps a boy given the slender stature and lithe build, takes a defensive step backwards, clutching a flute in hand. Yuta’s gaze flits uncertainly across the boy—peculiar, unsettling, captivating in all the unexpected and perplexing ways.
His silver hair cascades past his brows, softly illuminated by the moonlight, resembling pearls plucked from the deepest ocean and adorned by the wealthiest courtesans. The boy’s attire, simple and practical—a jinbei tunic and loose grey trousers—holds little significance, but what strikes Yuta most is the large cotton blanket draped over his shoulders. As the figure notices Yuta, he pulls the blanket over his nose and lips, obscuring his face, before Yuta even has the chance to take a glance. The boy is shrouded by the scent of lilies and mint leaves, akin to a remedy for sore throats and winter chills—the same lilies that lingered on Yuta’s sheets, the same lilies that evoke memories of her.
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AND I WAS SO RIGHT TO HAVE A SECOND ACCOUNT CONNECTED TO MY SIDEBLOGS TOO. BECAUSE AS I WAS SITTING HERE PRUNING MY URLS YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST ACCIDENTALLY FUCKING DID
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I feel as if I’m on the moon listening to the air hiss out of my spacesuit, and I can’t find the hole. I’m the vice president of panic, and the president is missing.
Paige Lewis, from Space Struck
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