#boredom posting
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edible-erasers · 9 months ago
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Medkit, but I made him EVIL 😈 🖤🖤😈😈
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judgeoffire-uriel · 11 months ago
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Kim Dokja 🔛🔝(of Yoo Joonghyuk)
I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, please don’t ground me, Metatron. That wasn’t me, that was.. uh.. Raphael.
Definitely Raphael.
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the-actual-ocean · 1 month ago
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Hello! We've decide that the Ocean crew will be doing a notes post. This will be horrible. It'll be great!
10 notes - We share our favourite ocean animals, with a little explanation or information about them. As a notice, crab people have not been an available option since their extinction in 2015. Reached!
30 notes - We share an ocean story. This can be experience with one of the asks, past interactions with animals, etc. Hopefully, we'll all refrain from doing copypastas. Reached!
75 notes - I, Juno, will sort of shuffle all the Chuck asks I've recieved into one, unintelligible mass of throw. It'll be great. Reached!
150 notes - We reveal the name of the ungodly creature that we have beneath our base. Reached!
200 notes - We reveal and infodump on our hyper fixations. May God have mercy on your soul. Reached! Oh, God.
300 notes - We each answer 1 ask, out of character. These will be moderated, but with the same rules as the pinned post. Just as a reminder, asking our opinions on fake snow will not take up our 1 question each. Reached!
500 notes - We draw our favourite ocean animals. Not well. Reached!
750 notes - We draw the PFPs of 3 random followers, one for each mod, and then drown them in excessive water filters. This should be seen as a curse. Reached!
1,000 notes - We share what the base is, why we're here, what we were before we came, and other fun lore that we are not creating on the spot. Reached! Oh, God.
2,000 notes (impossible, super, ultra, mega, ¥150 worth, defenestrating challenge) - We provide images of what we look like. This will probably range from pencil drawings, to collages or vibe boards. Good luck getting a good image of us, suckers. We're unimaginable. Reached. Oh.
2,001 notes - We reveal our mains.
Rules: None! Feel free to reblog, like, link, kill, carwash, kill, steal this post however much you want. THERE ARE RULES THERE ARE THERE ARE RULES!!!! ONE REBLOG PER PERSON!! 4 COMMENTS!!! MURDER ONCE!!!!HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT!!! JUNO SAID YOU CAN HAVE AN EXTRA REBLOG! YOU GET TWO REBLOGS AND FOUR COMMENTS NOW Yet another rule change. You all get 5 more reblogs, and 10 comments. I'm going to regret this.
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antis-hell · 2 years ago
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Boredom hath struck again soooooo here
Shit im willing to talk about/explain/mess around with in asks
-DID/system things
-other mental health stuff
-jacksepticeye/markiplier egos (theories/headcannons/whatever)
-our experiences with ramcoa/programming
-my source(it's diffrent to the typical story with the egos so imma put it separately)
-Lil fun facts about random shit
-markiplier cinematic universe(the ICU)
-fnaf
-drawing requests
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miku-meeku · 6 months ago
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haha chat you wont believe what i got myself into haha
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furmilk · 9 months ago
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posting it before i feel disappointed with it again
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luchicm04 · 7 months ago
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✿❀○ INSIDE OUT 2 ❃ ENNUI ○❀✿
like or reblog if you save/use.
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deterioratingpisces · 11 days ago
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Daniel Molloy, marriage councillor from hell.
He’s got a 98% divorce rate. The other 2%? They’re probably staying together out of sheer spite—or fear of returning to his office.
Instead of fixing his clients’ problems, he digs up some more. Forget “working on communication.” He’s a master at uncovering your worst secrets and weaponizing them like a teenager in a text fight.
He gets a little spark in his eyes whenever he finds something new to grill his clients about. It’s the closest he gets to joy: that glint that says, “Oh, you thought that wasn’t going to come up?”
Don’t worry about him playing favourites; he’s being a little shit to everyone equally. Even the mildest disagreements become battlefields under his gaze. You’ll go in debating how to load the dishwasher and come out wondering if love is even real.
Also, don’t be gleeful when your partner is on the receiving end of his judgement. Your turn is just around the corner. The moment he catches a whiff of smugness, he redirects like a hawk zeroing in on fresh prey.
Passive-aggressiveness just gasses him up more. Every eye roll, every groan, every passive-aggressive “are we done here?”—it’s all fuel for the fire. You think you’re breaking him down, but really, you’re just feeding the beast.
The only way of coming out of his therapy still married is through fraternizing against him. But good luck. Before you can say “teamwork,” he’s found the one thing you can’t agree on and driven a wedge so deep, you’ll forget you were ever on the same side.
Probably one of the biggest mistakes you could make is trying to weaponize his own two failed marriages against him. Oh, sweet summer child. You think that’s a trump card? He’ll shrug it off like lint on his blazer and hit you with, “That’s adorable, but let’s talk about why you brought this up.” Cue emotional bloodbath.
Thinking you can charm him by mentioning you’ve read his work and thought it was brilliant? Big mistake. He doesn’t take compliments; he takes ammunition. “Oh, you read my book? Fascinating. Let’s talk about why you felt the need to bring that up. Seeking validation, perhaps?” Now you’re defending yourself for being polite.
He’s written exactly one book, and it’s the kind of thing only masochists or grad students read. Titled “Irreconcilable: Why Most Marriages Were Doomed Before They Began,” it’s a scathing 600-page manifesto on why love is an illusion and compromise is a scam.
He’ll be going off on you for one hour, and the second the time is up he’s his perfectly composed self. Nothing like hearing, “Same time next week? We’re really cracking this open!” after you’ve spent an hour sobbing and accusing your spouse of crimes you didn’t even know you cared about.
He’s immensely motionless and visibly dissatisfied every time a couple does make it out of his counseling still together. No congratulations. No “job well done.” Just a flat, “Wow. Guess miracles do happen.” The closest thing to an endorsement you’ll ever get.
If you somehow survive his sessions intact, you’ll leave with a list of issues you didn’t even know you had. Trust issues? Check. Miscommunication? Check. A sudden, inexplicable need to google “how to file a restraining order”? Double check.
His office décor is clinically neutral—beige walls, minimal art—because the real carnage happens in your emotional landscape. There’s no place for comfort here. Just two chairs, a box of tissues, and the sharp glare of his judgment.
He’s the kind of counselor who will literally pause a heated argument to correct your grammar. “Actually, it’s ‘my partner and I,’ not ‘me and my partner.’ But please, go on about how they never support you.”
He’s got a poker face so strong, even the most unhinged confession barely raises an eyebrow. You could admit to orchestrating a fake kidnapping to test your partner’s loyalty, and he’d just scribble something in his notebook with a bored, “Huh. Interesting.”
Somehow, he remembers everything. That tiny detail you offhandedly mentioned in week one? He’ll bring it back 15 sessions later, weaponized and sharper than your spouse’s passive-aggressive tone during your last fight.
His motto? “Honesty isn’t always the best policy—it’s just the most fun for me.” Because nothing says therapy like watching couples tear each other apart under the guise of “truth.”
Every session is like playing emotional Minesweeper. You think you’re navigating safely until—BOOM—he hits you with a “So when are you planning to tell them about the credit card debt?”
He’s probably got a closet full of tissue boxes because he goes through multiple ones a day. Not that he’s offering comfort, mind you. He’s just emotionally eviscerating people left and right, leaving them to weep into piles of Kleenex while he sits there scribbling in his notebook like “Another one bites the dust.”
On the rare occasion he does favour one client over their partner, he’ll join in with them to gaslight the other. If you thought your gaslighting was bad, wait until he tags in. “Honestly, that’s a perfectly normal thing to do. I don’t know why your partner’s making such a big deal about it.” Next thing you know, you’re doubting your grip on reality.
You know he’s in a good mood when he starts with, ‘So, let’s revisit that thing you were hoping I’d forget.’ His version of ‘good vibes’ is a merciless callback to the worst fight you’ve ever had. Bonus points if it involves a completely trivial topic like a burnt casserole.
He once accidentally helped save/improve a marriage, and he still brings it up as his greatest failure. “It wasn’t my fault. They blindsided me by… actually communicating. Ugh.”
He doesn’t just break you down emotionally; he’ll dismantle your hobbies too. “So you knit to ‘relax’? Interesting. Is that why your partner feels neglected every time you pick up the needles?”
Every now and then, he’ll throw in a “fun” hypothetical just to spice things up. “So, if your spouse did start an affair with their coworker, how do you think you’d react? No, seriously, let’s explore that.” And just like that, he’s set your relationship on fire.
If you’re brave enough to call him out for being biased, he’ll hit you with a “Why do you think you feel that way?” Congratulations, you just fell into his trap. Now you’re the one who needs to “explore your insecurities.”
He’s got a way of twisting even the smallest compliment into a passive-aggressive critique. “So you think they’re a good parent? Interesting that you don’t mention them being a good partner.”
No argument is off-limits to him, no matter how petty. You could be fighting over the remote, and he’ll somehow turn it into a deep dive on your inability to compromise. “Is it really about the TV? Or is it about the control you feel you’re losing in this relationship?”
He has the audacity to send you home with homework. Nothing says fun date night like sitting down to answer questions like, “What’s the worst thing your partner’s ever said to you, and why do you think they meant it?”
He signs off every session with, ‘It’s not my job to fix you. It’s my job to show you what’s broken.’ Thanks, Daniel. Really uplifting. Can’t wait for next week.
He keeps a tally on how many digs it takes for both of his clients to start sobbing. He’s like an emotional sniper, except instead of bullets, it’s a well-placed “So, how did your mother influence your relationship dynamic?”
He also keeps a separate count of how many clients had a full-on mental breakdown that week. At the end of the week, he probably leans back in his chair, reviewing the numbers with a satisfied, “Another record-breaking performance. Good job, me.”
He gets a twisted sense of joy from the whole thing. Every time someone cries, he casually slides the tissue box closer with a little smirk, like “That’s the spirit.”
He claims he doesn’t enjoy making people cry, but the smug look on his face says otherwise. You swear you caught him jotting “two-for-one cry deal” in the corner of his notebook after both you and your partner lost it in the same session.
If you call him out on the tally, he’ll act surprised. “Tally? Oh no, that’s just... uh... my grocery list. Don’t mind that.” Meanwhile, you can see “MENTY B TOTAL: 12” written in huge letters.
He has a "Hall of Fame" in his mind for the fastest emotional breakdowns. “Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Impressive, really. Most people hold out until the ten-minute mark.”
His biggest letdown of the week is a session where nobody cries. He’ll sigh heavily, jot something in his notebook, and mutter, “Well, we all have off days.”The week his tally hits zero? He might as well shut the whole office down. He’d sit at his desk, staring out the window, whispering, “Have I lost my touch? No... it’s them. They’re just repressing better.”
The reason his Google ratings are still up? It’s either fear—because who wants Daniel Molloy coming after them in a vengeful Yelp tirade—or gratitude, but of the gaslit variety. His clients walk away thinking, “Wow, our marriage was doomed from the start. Thank you, Mr. Molloy, for showing us the truth.”
There’s a rumor that he has a celebratory bell he rings in his private office for every milestone. After every couple that leaves his office divorced. Ding-ding-ding! “Another happy ending.”
Sometimes he drops subtle hints about the bell mid-session. “You know, not every couple makes it through therapy. But that’s okay. There’s… closure in accepting the truth.” And you know he’s thinking about that bell.
If he had his way, the bell would be a centerpiece of his practice. Displayed proudly behind his desk, polished to a shine, with an engraving: “In honor of irreconcilable differences.”
Please feel free to add anything I have missed. 💀
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edible-erasers · 1 year ago
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I promise this is the last time I'm changing Yuko's design
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y4rdbird · 5 months ago
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JORDANNAAAAAAAAAAAA
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jojo-the-puppy · 4 months ago
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i feel like my tits look massive in this shirt
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luhvrlis · 6 months ago
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if tumblr hasv 0 user im dead
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moniquegibaeu · 1 month ago
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Idk I made this when I was half asleep
It was funnier in my head
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 2 months ago
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me stubbornly forcing myself to drink green tea and rest from my THIRD COLD THIS MONTH
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squuote · 11 months ago
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clay eople grins
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jiji-was-here · 6 months ago
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h..,,.hi,.. (holding this up to yuo)
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Pls reblog :((((((,,.,. (forgot this)
so i hated everything else ive drawn so here are some doodles,.,...,.i hope u dont mind,.,,,,,.,,..... (eyes welling up,blushing)
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