I was looking for Society of the Snow on here and. Can people be normal and less chronically online please because there is no fucking way I just saw someone ask what the ship name for Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa is. These are real people. Sdln/Sots specifically is NOT a movie to make a fandom out of. It's a movie you watch to understand what happened to these people and maybe even fall for the actors. But the REAL ACTUAL PEOPLE? WHO WENT THROUGH ALL OF THAT? Is fucking wild. Get a grip. Read a book.
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agender in a boy way, im a boy who's agender, yknow?
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No, but the fact that I was blissfully unaware of anything happening in the manga, but then I went on to Tumblr and now I am sobbing in my bedroom at 12 am AND I HAVEN'T EVEN READ THE CHAPTER YET.
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Btw wtaf happened to the Timberkon tag? Is it just me or has it been flooded with bots?
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You shouldn't have such run on sentences in your writing, it doesn't read well and makes you seem illiterate
damn i wish i knew how to read so i could know what this says :(
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Next person who "confirms" Cisco is coming back and follows up their "confirmation" with "well, hopefully" is gonna catch these hands.
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Algorithms are fun because tumblr sees me posting about a show and following the tag for my favourite character and recommends the tag for the character in that show who I consistently refer to as a curse word in place of his name
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not me ignoring my work tasks to write things about bokuto and iwaizumi and meian NFJDNCDNNDND
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The only non-brits I've seen defending the Queen are Irish pro forced birth catholics, hetalia fans, and people who don't know what an apartheid is. All of them white. Perfectly shows the level of seriousness coming from royalists.
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Boys would really think they're funny asf after making fun of girls like sure honey whatever you say
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Why do I keep having a reoccurring nightmare about a yeti in my house
I am not part of this dream. There are different people living in my house. Chris Pratt and a woman. It’s her house, but she made a deal with Chris Pratt— as long as he goes downstairs every day and closes the vents down there, he can stay.
Downstairs is infinite. There is no exit, and no light strong enough to light it up. It’s a maze, light by occasional, flickering lightbulbs. There’s an old man down there, who will lead Chris Pratt around and speak in stern tones about something. Every time we pass a vent, he’ll point it out, and Chris Pratt will close it. This time he’s angry.
The yeti will not enter the light. Both the old man and Chris Pratt know it’s down there. Walking between lights is so fucking scary. Eventually Chris Pratt closes enough vents for the night and is able to return upstairs. All of the lights are off. He turns them on— the stair lights, the hall lights, and his bedroom lights. The woman understands the stair lights, but turns off the hall lights. She does not believe that there is a yeti.
The dream usually ends with me, or Chris, stood at the top of the stairs and screaming at the yeti. It only got partway up the stairs once. This time it didn’t even appear, but I was so aware that if I stopped yelling, then the Christmas event would trigger.
The Christmas event is supposed to be the hardest thing in the game, because this dream has migrated from one of my mothers rom-com movies to a game. The yeti gets halfway to the woman’s room before you, foolishly, wake up.
Or maybe you think it’s safe. It’s morning. There is light. You will go Christmas shopping for the woman— there is a mall downstairs. You can’t afford rent, but you can afford this. You hope she’ll like it.
The yeti is no longer scared of light.
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FUCKIM HELL THIS IS BETTED THAN ANY DRUG IVE WVER TAKEN
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