🖤

love when my popular mutuals reblog my posts and they get notes fuckyessssss #nepobaby

You know that thing would eat you if you died, right? *pointing to the false image of you that others perceive*

do me a favor and plz reblog with your five most recently used non-face, non-hand, non-heart emojis

The upside to the adhd forgetting that you made yourself a drink thing is thinking to yourself “man I could go for a drink right now” and looking to your right and seeing a drink has appeared there. Thank you, past me. I lost you somewhere but you have still provided.

my absolute favourite part of the golden raven is when jeremy says "good thing neil was here when grayson died, he gave jean a good alibi!" and kevin and andrew look at each other like "he fucking killed that guy" and that's actually canon. that happened

#when people tell you youre wrong when you are actually wrong: embarrassing! but tolerable #when people tell you you are wrong when RON SWANSON AT HOME DEPOT I KNOW MORE THAN YOU: #MOST HARROWING HUMAN EXPERIENCE.

brooding men who cannot communicate their feelings if their life depended on it are only hot when they're fictional. if i have to deal with one in real life i will curse him and pray for his downfall every night before i go to bed

It's because the writer communicates their feelings for them. If people wanna pull that off in real life they need to hire a guy to walk around behind them narrating.

there seems to be a fundamental disagreement between microwave oven manufacturers and the producers of microwave meals over whether the customer should know the wattage of their microwave or if such details should be abstracted away from them

the microwave rice demands 800 watts of power for 2 minutes, but all the microwave can offer me three settings: one low, one high, and one somewhere in the middle. I turn it to the one in the middle as I happen to know 800W is the average power of most microwaves. the light comes on and the bag of rice starts slowly turning, but rather than hearing the usual rumble of the microwave, I instead start hearing short snippets of conversation - words snatched from the ether. the lights flicker and a chill runs up my spine. the voices remind me of those "spirit boxes" ghost hunters use. I double check the setting on the microwave. "ah," I say, remembering that I had set it to medium,