#like “maybe it will work this time and dad will be nice!!”

[alipeeps]

Episode 28

OMG he is such a git! I'm love him!

Oh damn Li Lun somehow got there before them?

Your "old friend" eh? Well Wen Zongyu's definitely not going to want Princess Longyu to give Li Lun a dragon scale... cos he's counting on that poison to force Li Lun to submit to him.

Meng Xuan? Is that Wen Zongyu then? Did he go by a different name?

Oh dang, so they are blackmailing *her* to get Zhu Yan's inner core now? Jfc.

Just what DOES Wen Zongyu want the ever-burning wood for that he is willing to go to such lengths?

Uhhhh that might not be a story though?

Hahahaaaa Zhao Yuanzhou loves teasing people with flirty comments but when someone does it back to him?

Ohhh what the fuck there's a sick (pregnant?) wife and baby in Wen Zongyu's past? And he was cosying up to Princess Longyu to get a scale to heal/revive wifey? And is that what he's still trying to do with his demon experiments and his obsession with the ever-burning wood?

Ohhh so Meng Xuan was his.. apprentice? And he used his name when seducing Princess Longyu.

And... Wen Xiao's dad also called Wen Zongyu his senior? Did he also work for him?

Whyyy though would she still care to know what "Meng Xuan" wrote to her? She hated him and tried to kill him.

Oooh that's the first time I've noticed less than stellar sound production in this show. Loud atmospheric sounds of the waterfall etc and then abruptly dropped to muffled as soon as it switched to close up for a conversation.

So Zhao Yuanzhou may have promised Zhuo Yuanzhou to stop seeking death... but he's still more than willing to offer his death as a solution to any given problem.

Ugh my heart.

Oh dang, that sounds awfully familiar!!

(Although, guys, guys? Do you mind if I just maybe point out something very important that you don't seem to be considering? Zhao Yuanzhou's willingness to die for the cause aside... why has it not occurred to you to wonder what exactly Wen Zongyu wants Zhao Yuanzhou's inner core/the ever-burning wood for? Cos the answer to that question may make it imperative that he NOT get it - for any reason!!

Oh dang.

Oh fuuuuuck.... my heart....

Oh shit, once Zhuo Yichen makes up his mind, that's it. Our boy is ride or die for the Great Demon.

Seriously? They're gonna fight over this? Fall out over this?

Don't you fucking do it Zhao Yuanzhou!!

Pleeeeeease tell me this is all a clever ploy?

(I'd love for it to turn out that that whole argument about the inner core was acted out for the benefit of Chongwu camp spies, to fool them into thinking the core the Princess will bring them is real)

SO WHY GO TO ALL THAT FUCKING TROUBLE TO GET IT?!!!

Ahahahaaaa it was a set up (I sure hope that means the inner core is fake)

AHA!! I did wonder why it looked like Wen Xiao held something up but it didn't show what it was!!

Hahahaaa. Hao de.

He didn't see the fucking message and didn't know they were acting!

Mind you... to be fair to him, if he didn't know they were acting then he was the only one who didn't know Zhao Yuanzhou was fucking faking removing his inner core and sacrificing himself!!

He's sooo embarrassed cos he outright expressed his care for Zhao Yuanzhou in front of everyone...

Such fucking fondness in the way Zhao Yuanzhou looks at him!!

Oh nice girl, get your revenge...

Oh shiiitt... the way Zhao Yuanzhou reaches to comfort Wen Xiao as Princess Longyu explains that giving away her reverse scale will cause her clan to die.

Is he immune to the poison because of the demon blood experiments he's been doing all these years?

Ahhh shit he was expecting a trick and had the fake skin on so the poison never touched his skin.

I know it's not exactly honorable etc, but really guys... instead of just hanging out upstairs listening to shit go down you COULD just fucking put a few arrows in Wen Zongyu and remove his as a threat for good?

Aaaaand that's what's behind his hatred of demons and his plan to kill them all. And I am guessing that plan is what he needs the ever-burning wood for.

Dumbass

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hand-holding!!

Fuuuuck these kinds of conversations about inevitable endings do NOT bode well for the ending!!

And here's where I think the translation is a bit lacking. They keep translating it as "Don't be afraid." But what he's actually saying is "Bu yong pa". There is no use in being afraid. Which to me is not quite the same thing.

"Don't be afraid" means "Hey, don't worry/no need to worry, it'll be fine." It's reassuring.

"There is no use is being afraid" means "It's pointless being afraid, your fear serves no purpose. Things will happen the way they will regardless of your fear." It's fatalistic rather than reassuring.

Okaaaay so they are still teasing that without giving us the answer...

You FUCKERS!! WAs that a goddamn actual kiss, shown only in blurred focus from a distance?!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

Well, I was gonna say there IS a fucking rush cos a) you need to save Bai Jiu and b) fucking Ao YIn is planning to steal it from you...

But to be fair Zhao Yuanzhou's got the right idea... they don't even know how to repair the damn sword...

Ying Lei is such a fucking dumbass.

"Then nothing can go wrong" Well jfc that's just tempting fate. Famous last words if ever I heard em.

Oh god pleeeease, do I really need to remind you, Ying Lei, that Ao Yin is a shapeshifter?!

(Also didn't you tag them with powder that you claimed you can use to track and identify them?)

Oh good, you're not all that stupid.

But seriously you knew Ao Yin would come for it, why would you leave only one person guarding it? And not even your strongest person at that. This is just dumb folks...

Oh? Where the fuck has this come from?

Uuuuhhh did Zhao Yuanzhou intend to let Li Lun have the dragon scale?

Or...

As I suspected!! It's not even in the box! So what is he up to? He suggested they wait to repair the sword and then he removed the scale from the box and sealed the box with a spell he knew Li Lun could break and left it guarded by only one person....

[lesbianrobin]

sneak peek: buddie hallmark movie fic!

Even three years in, Buck still isn’t quite used to winter in Los Angeles.

It’s November fifteenth, and he’s wearing a t-shirt. He’s even a little bit sweaty. That’s gotta be against the laws of the universe.

The mall has already put up a giant Christmas tree, spectacular enough that Tommy has to loop his arm through Buck’s elbow to pull him away from gawking at it. Buck wonders how long it takes to decorate the thing.

“You know, I used to work on a Christmas tree farm,” Buck says as they continue through the mall, and Tommy laughs.

“For real? An actual, honest-to-God Christmas tree farm?”

“Well, yeah. They gotta come from somewhere,” Buck shrugs. “Would you, uh.” He clears his throat. “Would you want to see it?”

Tommy’s eyebrows crease. “See what?”

“The farm. Where I worked.”

“Uh…”

“Maddie invited me home for Christmas,” Buck says. “I’m gonna go either way, I have to meet Jee-Yun, but I… I hoped you would come with me?”

Tommy is silent for a few seconds, mouth downturned, and Buck can faintly hear Santa Tell Me playing from a tinny set of speakers somewhere among the din of the mall.

“It—it snows there!” He pleads, “Come on, real white Christmas. We can have some spiked cider by the fireplace…” Buck squeezes Tommy’s arm, pulling him closer and kissing his cheek lightly, then his ear. “I know you can get the time off… And you’d have an excuse to miss your dad’s stupid Christmas party with all the businessmen…”

“...Alright,” Tommy caves.

“Yes!” Buck stops them right in the middle of the walkway, kisses Tommy, and pulls back with a smile splitting his face in half. “Thank you!”

Tommy chuckles indulgently and pulls him back in for a deeper kiss. They’re definitely blocking some poor shoppers, but Buck can’t be bothered to care.

Buck doesn’t think that anyone knows this about him—not even Maddie—but he’s always loved Christmas. Back when he was younger, he wanted to live on the Grant-Nash Tree Farm, spent as much time there as he could get away with and waited anxiously for December when he’d get to stand in a lot with Bobby and drink hot chocolate together. The Buckleys hardly celebrated Christmas—Buck and Maddie exchanged presents, and their parents hung a wreath on the door and lit up an artificial tree in the window where neighbors could see, but they never really did the whole Christmas morning thing, so he never got much of an opportunity to really do all of the traditions.

He still hasn’t really done the traditions like most people, but he loves the stupid corny music. He loves the ugly sweaters, and Santa hats, and light shows, and the smell of pine needles and the glitter everywhere and, yes, even the freezing Pennsylvania snow. He loves leaving on the Hallmark channel 24/7 in December, and laughing at the bad acting, and admiring the decorations, and crying a little bit whenever some girl named Holly or Noel or Mary finds love.

And finally, finally, he thinks, maybe he can have a nice Christmas. He’ll have his sister, and his new baby niece, and his boyfriend, and it won’t even matter that his parents don’t give a shit about him. He’ll give Maddie back her old Jeep, and tell her how much she means to him, and shower baby Jee-Yun in toys and kisses, and maybe snuggle up with Tommy by a fire somewhere with some mulled wine and keep each other warm.

Buck isn’t a dumb, troublemaking kid anymore. He’s better now.

Evergreen, Pennsylvania won’t get the best of him.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

"Yevy, dinner!" Ian called. The table was set for three since Lana was out and did not disclose what she was doing or where she was going.

He made a pot of steaming hot spaghetti, setting it down carefully in the middle of the table. Mickey grabbed a beer for both of them, his stomach rumbling. He was fuckin' starving.

There was the sound of heels digging into the floor, and there came their son, beaming. "I'm here, Een!" Yevy announced.

"Ay, no running in the house," Mickey scolded. "How many times we gotta tell you that?"

"But you said you didn't wanna see me run and you didn't," Yev argued with all the logic of a little kid.

Ian cracked a grin which he tried to hide. Mickey huffed through his nose. Fuckin' smartass.

"Sit down on the damn chair."

For a five year old, Yev looked very smug. "Een, did I win?" He did a poor whisper that Mickey heard clearly.

Ian stifled his laughter at the unimpressed look Mickey was giving them both. Shoulda known he'd get ganged up on by his boyfriend and son.

"Come here," Ian picked Yev up, holding him close. "You know, you're my favorite Milkovich but you can't tell your daddy or Aunt Mandy, okay?" He said in a stage whisper.

"Okay," Yev giggled. Mickey would deny it, and start throwing some punches around if somebody said otherwise, but it was kinda nice...or whatever to see the kid and Ian getting along like that.

Some part of him sorta wished he could bond with the kid that easily.

Ian kissed him on the head, setting him back down. Yev got up on the chair. "I'm hungry." 

"I'm glad, but you have to be careful. It's hot," Ian advised, scooping some out for Yev onto a plate.

"Okay," Yev chirped.

"Mandy still working?" Ian asked, one hand on Mickey's knee.

"Yeah. Said she'll be back later."

"I'll save her a plate," Ian said.

"Why? She can make herself a damn sandwich or something," Mickey shrugged.

"Mickey," Ian rolled his eyes. He was going to say more, Mickey knew it, but then a sudden shriek from Yev had their heads turning rapidly in his direction.

He must have touched the bottom part of the plate where it was the hottest. Yev burst into tears, holding his hurt finger close to him.

"Oh, Buddy," Ian was on it. He tried to get Yev to show him but he was crying too hard and didn't want anyone else touching it. "Can I have a look at it, Yevy?"

Yev shook his head. Mickey didn't feel like feeling so useless, so he tried to help.

"Ay, let Ian have a look."

But then something unexpected happened; Yev didn't turn to Ian for comfort like he usually did. Instead, he launched himself into Mickey's arms, his face burrowing in his shoulder.

It caught him off guard. Surprised Ian too, but he recovered faster.

"Daddy, it hurts!" Yev sobbed.

Mickey hesitantly rubbed his back. "Yeah," he said lamely, "it will for a bit."

He really wasn't sure what to fucking do. He didn't know how to handle the kid, and it wasn't helping that Ian was making those damn doe eyes.

"You're doing so good, Mick," Ian said softly.

Good? Mickey barely did anything.

"Just keep holding him. He'll be okay. We'll just have to run some water over it."

Ian was always doing that, trying to encourage him when it came to Yev. It was hard to believe. Mickey just wasn't father material. Not like he'd ever had anyone to show him what a good one looked like.

Maybe he could try.

"You're, uh, okay," Mickey muttered. "You're fine, kid. I gotcha."

It took a couple of minutes for Yev to stop crying. A couple minutes of Mickey murmuring shit he didn't even know was helping or not.

By that time, he was somewhat calmed down, besides his red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Mickey didn't know why the sight made him have this weird pang in his gut.

"You gotta watch next time, okay?" Mickey said, doing his best to keep his voice gentle like Ian would. "Ian told you it was hot."

Yev had his head leaning against his dad's chest. "I know," he sniffled. "I didn't mean to."

Those four little words brought Mickey back to when he was a little kid looking for attention and approval from Terry. He'd said those words, usually after an accident of some sort, but it never helped. If anything, it seemed to enrage Terry even more.

It wasn't the life he wanted for Yev. He wasn't sure how he felt about the little fucker yet, maybe there was some part of him that did love him, but the fucked up way he'd been conceived still haunted Mickey and made it really fucking hard to bond with him the way he was 'supposed' to.

"Yeah," Mickey said quietly. He smoothed down his son's unruly hair. "Yeah, I know. You, uh, wanna try eating again?"

Yev gripped his shirt. "I wanna stay here."

"You wanna sit on your dad's lap?" Ian said with the biggest smile on his face. Yev nodded, peeking up at Mickey as if he was worried he'd be forced off.

It made something warm come alive in Mickey.

"You really want to?"

Yev nodded again.

Mickey looked at Ian, a bit of a frantic gleam in his eyes because what the fuck should he say to that?

His boyfriend just smiled in return, letting this next move be Mickey's choice and not his own.

And well, fuck it.

Mickey felt weird about it, letting him stay there and eat like that, but that's what he did. He kept one arm around Yev so he wouldn't fall, that warm sensation returning when Yev leaned back against him in contentment.

[tigerincahoots]

BAD IDEAS ASIDE, there was something comforting about this. He knew he should not get attached to someone – people would ultimately become a liability – but there was something about this whole undercover work that was giving him a glimpse of what NORMAL could be. A boring 9 to 5 job where he would sit behind a desk, shitty coffee, people who he could talk to and even get closer if things evolved in a certain way. Was this how life could have been if he wasn’t born in a military family where his father viewed him more as a weapon than a son? Could this be how his life would be if he didn’t end up becoming something more than human?

THESE SMALL GLIMPSES WERE A TORTURE. One that Kevin didn’t know whether to give in to or push aside. Monsters like him didn’t have happy endings. And even if Henry was as open-minded as he said he was – there was a whole fucking world of differences between the two of them. How could he even become close to someone when he couldn’t even tell them the truth? And if he did… there were very high chances that Henry would freak out over it all. Or if he didn’t freak out, the two of them becoming closer would only put a target on his back. The last thing he wanted or needed was to drag someone who was innocent to a world of darkness and grief. Maybe it was for the best to keep playing pretend for the time being. One day the assignment would be over and he would have to leave – but at least Henry would be very much alive rather than join the ghosts and spirits he was able to talk to.

”IM SORRY, WHAT?” The car was haunted?? Kevin’s gaze turned to the wheel and the radio and everything around him. The fucking car was possessed? “Are you telling me that the car has a personality, wants and whims? Like Bumblebee from Transformers?” He did not know what he was expecting but being inside a haunted car was definitely not it. He had seen and dealt with a lot of shit through the years – but a haunted vehicle was…definitely the first. “I have so many questions.” Fastening the seatbelt before the car would do it for him, Kevin pressed his lips together and after a moment of careful and ponderate hesitation – he patted the glove compartment. Maybe that was awkward. Or weird. Or both? “Good car. Don’t go tossing me out while driving, alright?” He would definitely land on his feet but that was an experience he did not want to try out.

THROUGHOUT THE DRIVE, Kevin admired his surroundings. He had travelled all over the globe on missions but not once he had actually stopped to smell the proverbial flowers. The suburbs were usually a place he would avoid like the fucking plague – he had seen Desperate Housewives – but even he had to admit that there was this rustic charm about it. It did suit Henry to a T. The homicide Detective who happened to commune with ghosts had a little place outside of the city to call home. What was next? A white fence? One of those cute little mailboxes outside like he saw in the movies? For fuck’s sake – could the two of them be more different? And yet… there was this charm about Henry that taunted him. That made him want to see what NORMAL was all about.

”YOU HAVE A CAT?” Following Henry out of the vehicle – he gave the hood a little stroke as a sign of respect because who the fuck knows – Kevin was quick to move behind the detective, pressing himself against his back while carefully but steadily wrapping his arms around the blonde’s waist. Oh… there it was. That scent of his that he was still trying to memorize. The scent of normality and quaint. The scent of a man that was so fucking effortlessly finding ways past the very large and very thick brick wall he had created to keep people away. “I think I like you.” Not because Henry was hot and highly fuckable. Or because he was a nice person overall albeit a bit innocent. He had a fucking cat. People who had cats were good people. He should know. “I’m also a cat dad. He judges me all the fucking time and I judge him back.” Teeth brushed over the shell of Henry’s earlobe quickly followed by the tip of his tongue. Teasing at its best.

”ABOUT THAT SHOWER…”

Henry hadn't thought it was a bad idea, in fact, he hadn't thought it through much at all. He just knew what he felt and went for it. His sexual attraction to Kevin growing stronger and stronger by the second. Fuck, he was such a good kisser, they way they melted into each other, the taste of him, pure lust. If Henry was feeling something more, he'd have to sort it out later because he needed this man in his bed.

Henry tilted his head, his lips tingling again, his face tickled from Kevin's facial hair. Before Kevin returned to his proper seating, Henry gave him a light peppering of small kisses to the side of his mouth. "Good. My place is pretty quiet and private, I think you'll like it."

He certainly was eager, and while he didn't think himself adorable, he was glad Kevin liked what he saw. "You're right, that would be cruel, and I'm sure you don't want to be cruel to little ol' me."

He put the car in gear and pulled off the side of the road, finally ready to get out of here and go home. "Don't forget your seatbelt." He reminded his partner, because if Kevin did, his car wouldn't, and it would snake around him on it's own. That was a little harder to explain away. But then again, why bother? He'd already told Kevin his biggest secret, what was one more? Fuck it.

"The car is haunted." He stated calmly, as if he were telling Kevin the make and model. "So if you don't fasten your seatbelt, she'll do it for you." He looked at Kevin and smiled, "She's very protective of me."

The drive to his house was a bit longer than the drive back to work, because Henry lived 45 minutes outside of the city in a small suburb. It was hard to believe the scenery could change from big city to country town in such a small time, but that's why Henry liked it, it reminded him of home.

He parked the car in his make-shift gravel driveway. "Here we are, home sweet home." He hopped out and waited for Kevin to join him before walking to the front door. He was kind of cutely excited for his partner to see his home, and hoped it didn't show how anxious he was about it. He unlocked the front door, no fancy security system here.

"I have a cat, his name's Max."

[boromirswife]

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

[ohio-thestate]

I have an unending hatred for those microwave dinners like why are the bbq ones the only ones that taste like anything

"spaghetti and meatballs" oh you mean starch noodles with tomato water and flavorless pieces of meat?

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[agentartemus]

I thought today was a good one..

[adore-gregor]

🙄🫠

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

[raksh-writes]

I should be writing my thesis but Im feeling so lazy

[joyridingmp3]

can my entire family stop being suicidal for one second so I can enjoy my weekends instead of having to monitor their mental wellbeing on my only two free days (/hj)

[carcarrot]

anyway a different sneaky plan worked out in that i was able to find old listing photos of my dream house and ough..... i need her .....

[metacarpus]

why do the super rich have yachts? or worse yet, super yachts? why do they have useless, endless, tasteless luxury? what would you do with loads of money? would you get a yacht??

[guinevereslancelot]

so proud of myself for putting a big part of my last paycheck in my savings like an adult but now im gonna spend all my savings like an idiot 😵‍💫

[caluupin]

I'm finally AR60,, nice