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French onion soup rats 🧅🐀
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I just know that the dudes who make those "girls get 500 compliments a day vs. guy gets one compliment once and cherishes it for the rest of his life" memes put zero effort into their appearance. Like what exactly do you expect people to say? Wow nice plain ill-fitting hoodie, goes great with your basic-ass blue jeans and nondescript haircut. Got some real cool Grey Man vibes going on, you could seamlessly blend into any crowd ever without being seen at all.
Like nobody has any obligation to look any certain way, but you can't expect to be praised for doing something you're not even trying to do. I dress like I got tarred and feathered in a Tim Burton film costume department discard scrap pile, and someone saying they like my style is a biweekly occurrence.
Reblogged bakwaaas
painting this on the ceiling above my bed so it's the first thing i see upon waking in the morning and the last thing i see before falling asleep at night
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moonlines buy a wallpaper or leave a tip | bluesky | my merch shop
Reblogged killerandhealerqueen
worst part about the Internet is knowing that there are finally people who both match and complement your freak. the nearest one is 2,318.4 miles away and your time zones are awkward
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Ghost introducing himself to a heavily tattooed reader by just sitting down next to them and saying, ‘I’m Simon. I like your tattoos.’
He gives absolutely zero further interaction, just staring at the reader’s ink until they start explains what each one means, pointing out the little details for him to admire.
Ghost who panics when the reader asks if he has any tats of his own, worried that you’ll think his stuff is dumb, cliche military shit. With enough bugging, he’ll push his sleeves up and let the reader gush over him too, his brain freezing again when they poke his chest and ask to see the rest, too.
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this is perhaps evil but I can boost my mood in almost any situation by playing a game called "what was my mom doing at this age?" like rn for instance I'm sleepy because I had a 12 hour work day + stayed up late, and my stomach hurts a little from the enormous chimichanga I smashed for dinner, and my head hurts a little bit from the fat margaritas I had with the chimichanga. and it's like hmm, okay, not optimal, but when my mom was this age she had a 2.5 year old to deal with. can you fucking imagine. can't stay in bed decadently bemoaning your overindulgences because there's a goblin in the next room that's utterly dependent on you for food and hygiene and social needs and if you drop the ball you've fucked up a perfectly good person. and I'm pretty normal so shout out to her for keeping it together but god that couldn't be me, I like fucking around way too much.