ST:iD
So, uh, I randomly saw ST:iD tonight.
Feelings behind the cut which for those of you browsing Tumblr on the app is now-ish just skip this whole thing yeah?
Revised Eggs for Mother’s Day
Carmelita knocked on the door with her knuckles, her bags at her feet and her heart heavy.
That awkward/awful moment when you want to write as catharsis but you literally can’t because NOTHING CAN MAKE IT BETTER.
Think Imma dick around with ME things because at least THAT I can FIX.
My life and soul still feel broken and empty. And I don’t even have my therapy of punching demons in the face cuz I’m at work.
*whiiiiiiiiiine*
when your friend does a fandom reference at you and you don’t get it the first time
Betsy, I feel like this with you a lot. Like, whenever you quote something we both love and I drop the ball. It’s agonizing.
The Megamind ones are the worst. QQ
Zebra cakes are AWESOME
This has been a public service announcement.
…I figured out why two things that should have definitely been caught by tumblr saviour were on my dash today and yesterday (including fucking gifs I hate the camming community so very much). I had the users’ names white-listed.
Christ, brain, I know you did that when you still had certain things blacklisted because ~reasons~ but that seriously came back to BITE YOU IN THE GODDAMN ASS YOU MORON.
I hate when I can’t decide whether it’s worth it to do something really awful in a story because it would be great storytelling, or if I should retain some semblance of my humanity.
You’re welcome.
More of Sam's and I's writing relationship
- Betsy: You're a terrible person.
- Sam: *holds hand to chest, smiles* I know.
Have you ever wondered what would happen if you lit a whole pack of birthday candles at once? Because I did
That is the most metal looking cupcake ever
Kayla I’m doing this for your next birthday
Please don’t start a small fire in my house.
Kayla, come on. We wouldn’t start a small fire.
It would be a big one.
Psh, twenty candles? Try fifty.
Sam and my’s writing relationship in a nutshell.
Have 2k about Vega’s eggs
Carmelita knocked on the door with her knuckles, her bags at her feet and her heart heavy. The door swung open, a woman standing there with wild eyes and the sound of children screaming in the background. “Mi corazon,” Carmelita said warmly, her arms open; and Marisol fell, shaking, into her embrace.
Tev, your present saves the day yet again.
It is balls cold in my room. My right hand is numb.
My left isn’t because it’s holding up my head, and not holding the mouse. SCIENCE!!!
