The mortifying ordeal of remembering that one or ten posts from your chūnibyō phase after discovering anime or some other collective fandom(whether edgy quotes or escapist fanfictions).
Also cinnamon rolls because I like them and bake really good ones.
Ever think about how the author of PIDW transmigrated into his most nothing character who only existed to push the protagonist on the “right” path to popularity before dying? Ever think about how he transmigrated into that character from their birth, completely deleting that person from existence, while his own existence as the creator of the world he now inhabits is so thoroughly erased that we readers only know his “real name” as the character’s name? How the only name he carries over from his first life is a shortened version of his innuendo pen name? As if his existence as a person is nothing next to being the author, which is only marginally less nothing by virtue of the job’s one purpose: to make sure a story is following the “right” path to popularity before dying to enshrine that fame/infamy amongst readers?