#I’m going insane I don’t know what else to do I feel like I’m going to explode i love this show so much help me please

[keferon]

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

[adimouze]

post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

-

A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross. 

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.” 

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side. 

No one else but them. 

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting. 

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. 

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy. 

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons. 

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight. 

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow. 

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him. 

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest. 

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well. 

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And. 

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room. 

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great. 

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over. 

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift. 

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this.  “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning. 

It’s him. 

“Um…”

Liam’s still there. 

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone. 

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?” 

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.” 

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?” 

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone. 

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

[tsuutarr]

As just imagined then everything as a game and the hero as seeing like a freak by all the people and the reader as the only good and nice npc then treat him well and even give him free item even if our store is not very we still give him a apologize about the others (npcs) being rude with him and the hero being so delusinal the fall over us lol

so, because i have absolutely NO self control, I made another story <3

Yandere! RPG Protagonist x Reader

Gallius isn’t entirely sure when he gained sentience. Maybe it was when he’d have insistent feelings of déjà vu. Maybe it was when he would want to go somewhere or do something, but an external force prevented him from doing so. Maybe it was when the people he talked to would say the same things over and over and over again.

Regardless, one day, he realized that he doesn’t actually exist – at least, not in a way that matters. He’s just a piece of code, a bunch of pixels moving across the screen, trapped in a video game.

The worst part is that everyone around him – and he means everyone – lacks sentience. It’s gotten to the point that he’s memorized everything. Every dialogue, every story path – everything.

It’s a fruitless life, really, especially since he’s forced to obey his code. He’s forced to go along with whatever the person controlling him wants. He’s forced to be the happy-go-lucky protagonist. He can’t be anything but that.

Gods, he’s going to go insane.

And he’s tried to talk to people, really.

“Hey, so, I think we’re in a game.”

“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”

Gallius never thought the tavern’s owner could look so lifeless. “So, you know, I guess you really don’t have sentience.”

“Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”

“Don’t you wish there was a way you could… I don’t know, break free? Talk beyond your code?”

“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”

Gallius holds back a sigh. The tavern owner says three things exactly. “Beer is fifty percent off, young man”, “Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”, and “I don’t know if I prefer a full tavern or an empty one!” are the exact phrases the tavern owner recycles. It isn’t just the tavern owner, either. It’s everyone else in town. The blacksmith, the carpenter, the seamstress – all of them.

It kind of drives him insane. Maybe that’s why he tries to find solace in anything he can, like you.

“Gods, I hate being the only one who sees that we’re a pile of code,” he tells you. You’re a cute shopkeep – whoever designed you must be a genius – that he likes to see from time to time. If anything, you’re easy on the eyes, at least.

“Yes, it does appear that you’re having quite the rough time,” you say. He knows you’re just saying one of your coded phrases, he does, but he can’t help but latch on to that piece of support you give.

“Yeah, you get it.” He laughs dryly. “But what can I do? I have to keep going. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“You’re doing well. I’m proud of you.”

Gods, he can’t hide his grin. Yes, you’re just saying one of your phrases, but the comfort your words bring – it’s unreal. It’ll probably be even more unreal if he could actually talk to you. If you both had sentience, if you both could go against your code. The thought makes him fall silent.

“...Hey, I’m gonna leave for a bit. Maybe a long time,” he says finally, determined to help you break away from your code. He doesn’t really care too much about the other NPCs, but you? Oh, he wants you. He wants to talk to you, to be with you in a way that matters.

“Have a safe journey,” you say, automated. You hand him a potion, a freebie from your shop, with a smile. “On the house.”

Gallius smiles, taking the potion from you. Yeah, he’ll find a way to give you sentience like him. That way, you guys can truly be together forever.

[cakepoppresent]

Don't Let Me Slap You

Would Gideon actually beat the shit outta Malcolm if Veronica asked? No, but he would scare Malcolm a little cuz he would think it's funny

Transcript under the cut~

Veronica: Let me know. Should I beat your ass now or later?

Malcolm: What the hell did I do?

Veronica: Oh! So I should slap some sense into that thick skull of yours too?

Malcolm: I didn’t DO anything!

Veronica: Malcolm.

Veronica: Just think critically for 5 minutes. Do you think ignoring her messages and calls is any better?

Malcolm: I didn’t do anything. She shouldn’t be interested in looking for Andre. It's stupid and it's only going to get her hurt

Veronica: It’s like you want me to slap you in front of all these people

Malcolm: She’s the one that walked out on me.

Malcolm: I thought you’d be on my side.

Veronica: Lets use our thinking caps right now. You know you’re both very important to me yes?

Malcolm: Yes...

Veronica: So why did you think I’d side with you when your acting like an manipulative asshole. Is that how I raised you?

Malcolm: I’m...not being manipulative!!

Veronica: Refusing to talk to her? Ignoring her calls? Benji limits his contact with her so he won’t make YOU angry. All because she’s doing something you don’t want. Explain how that’s not manipulative.

Malcolm: *standing in slience foolishly*

Veronica: Well?? I’m waiting. Am I wrong?

Malcolm: *Refuses to answer*

Veronica: Yeah. That’s what I thought.

Malcolm: Why is no one on my side in this ?! Why am I in the wrong! Is it wrong to want to protect my peace?!

Veronica: Your way of protecting your peace means punishing Luna for wanting to do something you don’t like! That's unacceptable and I need you to cut that shit out TODAY and have an actual conversation with Luna OR ELSE I’ll get Gideon to beat the shit out of you

Malcolm: God! This isn’t FAIR. Its like no one is thinking about me or my feelings!

Veronica: Luna has ALWAYS put you first and you KNOW that.

Veronica: Let me ask you. That business man she’s been dating has she introduced him to you at all?

Malcolm:...She’s still seeing that scay ass dude?

Veronica: She’s been seeing that man for a YEAR and you know why she hasn’t introduced you? Do you wanna know?

Malcolm:....

Veronica: Because she KNOWS you don’t like him and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Your feelings ALWAYS come first and it's pissing me off that the one time she wants to do something you’re punishing her for it.

Veronica: I’m giving you until the end of the fucking week to reach out to Luna and apologize for your shitty actions or I swear to God I’ll get Gidon to beat the fucking shit out of you. Do you understand?

Malcolm: FINE! Fuck whatever.

Veronica: Yeah thats what I fucking thought. Don’t make Luna cry and actually TALK to her

Malcolm: Wait...Shut up do you hear that?

Veronica: I beg your pardon? Are you insane?

Loser #1: Did you see that stuff about Luna online?

Loser #2: Be specific there is a bunch of shit being said about her

Loser #1: They’re saying that the dude she's been seen with is her “sponsor”. I guess since shes pimping herself out to the highest bidder

Loser #2: Hahaha shes “High Class” she won’t look at a poor man like you

Loser #1: Maybe if I take out a loan she would roll in the sack with me. It's clear she's in need of funds her family is in shambles!

Malcolm: I dare you to say that shit again. I fucking dare you

Loser #1: What the fuck is your problem

Malcolm: Say that shit again!

Loser #1: You’re mad about what I said about that whore of an actress? Who cares!

Malcolm: Bet.

Malcolm: If I fucking see or hear you on this campus again ima put your bitch ass 6 feet under do you understand?

Loser #1: What the fuck dude. Get the guck off me!

Malcolm: Do. You. Understand?

Loser #1: Yes! Jesus Christ you bastard get off me!

[ruewrote]

𝑎 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑘 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔.

PAIRING: emily davis x gn!reader WARNINGS: the basement scene, no use of y/n GENRE: angst to comfort SONG INSPIRATION: space by the dolan twins WORD COUNT: 924 REQUESTED: yes NOTE: two in one day, in my active era?

navigation | ask | emily davis masterlist

the basement was cold, but the tension in the room froze you more than the air ever could. emily sat on the counter, her back pressed against the wall, blood seeping from the gash on her shoulder. everyone stood frozen, staring at her like she was already one of them.

mike held the gun, his knuckles white around the grip as he paced. “we can’t take any chances,” he said, his voice strained. “she’s been bitten.”

emily’s face was pale, her hands trembling as she clutched her arm. “i’m fine,” she snapped, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her fear. “it’s just a bite– it’s not even the same thing!”

“you don’t know that!” ashley shouted, her voice breaking. “what if you turn into one of those things? what if you kill us all?”

emily flinched at ashley’s words, her defiance cracking, and that was when you moved.

“enough!” you shouted, stepping between emily and mike’s shaking gun. your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to let it show. “put the gun down, mike.”

mike’s eyes darted to you, confusion and frustration battling in his expression. “are you insane? she’s bitten! she could turn!”

“then i’ll deal with it if it happens,” you said firmly, using your body as a shield between emily and the barrel of the gun. “but i’m not letting you kill her over a maybe.”

ashley scoffed, throwing her arms up. “oh, great! and when she turns and bites you first, then what? you wanna play the hero, fine, but don’t drag us all down with you!”

you turned to glare at her. “would you shut the fuck up for five seconds? she’s not turning! we don’t even know how this works. what if it’s just a wound and nothing else?”

“and what if it’s not?” mike demanded, his voice low.

you looked him in the eye, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you. “then i’ll be the first one she bites. but i’d rather risk that than let you kill her because you’re scared.”

the room fell silent. no one could meet your gaze, not even mike.

emily’s voice broke through the silence, soft and trembling. “you don’t have to do this…”

you turned to her, your expression softening. “yes, i do.”

because you loved her. because even if she didn’t know it, even if she never would, you couldn’t stand by and watch her die.

she gave you a look. wide-eyed, disbelieving, and so painfully vulnerable that your chest ached. 

“why?”

you didn’t answer, not directly. you just leaned beside her, pressing a hand gently to her good shoulder. “you’re going to be fine, em. i won’t let anything happen to you.”

mike hesitated, his hand twitching on the gun. “you’re seriously going to risk all of us for her?”

you shot him a stern look over your shoulder. “this isn’t just about her. this is about all of us. if we start turning on each other, we might as well give up now. what do you think is gonna happen if you kill her and it turns out she was fine?”

mike’s jaw clenched, his confidence cracking under the weight of your words. ashley fidgeted beside him, opening her mouth as if to argue but ends up saying nothing.

emily’s voice, softer this time, broke the uneasy silence. “they’re right, mike. if you do this, you’ll never be able to take it back.”

he glanced at emily, then at you. slowly, reluctantly, he lowered the gun completely, his shoulders sagging. “fine,” he muttered, shoving the weapon into his jacket. “but if she starts showing signs…”

“she won’t,” you cut him off, your tone leaving no room for argument.

mike huffed, but he didn’t press the issue. instead, he stormed off to the other side of the room, muttering under his breath.

you exhaled, the tension in your chest loosening just enough for you to feel the ache in your limbs. turning back to emily, you checked on her. “how bad is it?”

she shrugged weakly, wincing at the movement. “it’s not great, but i’ve had worse.”

you frowned, brushing her hair out of her face. “we’ll get it cleaned up and wrapped. you’ll be okay.”

for the first time that night, emily let her guard down, her voice breaking as she whispered, “i thought he was really going to shoot me.”

your heart clenched at the vulnerability in her tone. you wanted to reach for her hand, to comfort her, but you settled for keeping your voice steady. “i wouldn’t let that happen.”

she looked up at you, her dark eyes searching yours for something. “why do you care so much?”

you froze, the question hitting harder than you expected. the truth was there, sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. not now. not here.

instead, you smiled faintly. “because you of all people don’t deserve this, you didn’t choose for it to happen to you.”

emily stares at you for a moment longer before a small, almost smile tugged at her lips. she leaned her head back against the wall, exhaling shakily.

the others didn’t say much after that. the tension remained, thick and suffocating, but no one dared to challenge you again. and as you sat beside emily, quietly tending to her wound, you knew you’d made the right choice.

even if she never knew how you really felt, at least she’d be alive to never know. that was enough for now.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @antihuntress

© ruewrote 2024.

[c-nan]

if i stay over the weekend to help on a student film set, i won’t go back to my hometown which will upset my mom (and also cause me mental distress) but if i go home (mom happy, me happy(ish)) i’ll miss out on the opportunity to learn more about working on film sets (somethign i’ll have to do next semester for my own film) and i’ll reinforce in my brain that i’m not capable of doing literally anything and that i’m a fuckifn loser

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[cupiare]

walking into work tomorrow for the staff training day after i got rejected for the job i was near guaranteed to get and didn’t find out the news from my boss who i was with the whole morning in TUTOR PLANNING DAY FOR NEXT YR FOR TUTORIALS THAT TUTORS WOULD BE DOING THAT I WAS BOOKED INTO WITH THE TUTORS THE ROLE I APPLIED FOR AND HAD A VERY GOOD INTERVIEW FOR i found out from a noreply auto generated email from hr that was sent out as soon as i stepped out of the meeting room :) and then got invited back to the meeting for the rest of the day where my manager repeatedly talked about taking my good ideas from my interview and implementing them into tutorials next yr. after i got rejected via generated email. How we doing guys 😆

[lyriumsings]

i don’t even know what to do with myself after that. live my life? how??? frank and bill were my life for like 57 minutes how do i recover

[evansbby]

.

[trashpremiium]

the silent realization i haven’t been touched by anyone i wasn’t related to in years

[dragonloanshark]

merry boy meets christmas cory shawn topanga erifjdkbzbcndkld

[artificialcaretaker]

Getting back into JJBA with my new musical interests is difficult cuz back in middle school I was like “I’d name my stand after a Vocaloid song kyaaaaaa!!” but now it’s like. What. What I gotta name that shit, like. Fuck. Fucking TOOL. I just gotta call the manifestation of my soul TOOL?? Honestly A Perfect Circle would also work pretty well I think but then I’d have to figure out an ability……that sounds like I’m solving equations I don’t want my special power to be solving equations bro 😔😔😔

[10518]

no one I know follows this afaik (thank god) but ohhhhhhhhhh god when will I stop being like this. I’m not even in a place to be in a relationship rn but I’m utterly miserable over someone who barely gives me the time of day anymore & may or may not be openly flirting with someone else in front of me even after everything & like. kms forever and ever

[lilgynt]

my friends like invite him to go clubbing with us! i’m gonna club my brain in.

[sleepitawaydear]

mom was diagnosed with cancer and im coping well! (it’s not even noon yet and i am drunk)