friend-zoning guys is horrible. it is disgusting. funzone them instead. send them to a small childs park so they can cry with the other babies when they dont get what they want.
Ugh, no don’t let them into funzone. They’ll claim that they’re the “real intended audience” and complain that some of the slides don’t cater to the body of an adult male and start filling the ball pit with porn of themselves dating and fucking the ball pit.
When you try and sympathise with someone by reflecting on your personal experience with a problem and it comes off as you making it all about you
if i ever do this when i talk to you I promise i am trying to relate and sympathize not change the subject
somethingbeyondprecious replied to your post: OK, but seriously
I don’t know, man. The asks don’t seem to be workin’ right now. IT’S BULLCRAP. *siiigh* But anyways. You good, Suni? What’s up?
Yesterday, I ran into this mix:
And it was one of the best things ever just Oh My God
I also finally have good story ideas + some coherent plot, now all that’s left is putting it together and neatly refining it. (It’s basically half Victora, half original.)
While we’re at it, lemme just give you the joanlock mixes I’ve been crying over:
somethingbeyondprecious said: Hee hee. Well, that ought to be fun. So where’s your story set? Past? Future? Are there monsters galore? Btw I’m pretty sure you’ve sent me these mixes before Suni…
Story’s set in the modern day world that keeps rolling as the story moves.
Also, I did send the mixes, but after the whole ask problem, I am slightly paranoid.
Also I love you and you are perf. <333333
The air in the lab hisses while he works, setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Either with dread or excitement—he can never distinguish.
And when organic tissue cools to the point of being safely submerged in liquid nitrogen for preservation, and Victor finds himself shivering, he doesn’t know if it’s the exhilaration of success or simply the severe drop in temperature. That was the thing about emotions. They were so easy to confuse with outside stimuli.
A small grin quirks the edge of his mouth and he readjusts the breathing tube. Humming in his throat, he speaks as evenly and clearly as he can into the small recorder. “Subject is displaying adequate vital sign readings. The usage of a live creature appears to be preempting ischemic damage, and my compound is reducing the risk of—“ He pauses. “…No.” With a flick of his glove-clad thumb, he erases the tape and starts over. “Vital sign readings are—“
One of the monitors starts to beep and he grits his teeth. “Oh, wonderful…”
He shuts off the machinery as the small mouse begins to thrash in the nitrogen compound, bits of fur and skin popping and flaking away. With a frustrated sigh, he stalks from the tank, pulling off his safety goggles to pinch the bridge of his nose and readjust his slipping glasses. The next time he starts to record, his voice is colder. “Tenth derivation is a failure. Not viable for use in—in human testing. Make a note to re-assess the chemical formula.”
He’s tired. He has to have made a mistake somewhere. It’s hours of work gone and he can feel the exhaustion start to set in.
“…No, no, keep working.” Though his volume is as quiet as the slight buzz of electricity coming off the lab’s fluorescent lights, his lips lightly move over the words. There isn’t room in his brain for conversational thought anymore, just numbers and procedure, so he has to say it aloud or it’ll never get through. “You have time to make it up to her later.”
It’s not what he actually wants, to stay, but for some reason his hands are scribbling down notes of their own accord, rather than cleaning up the station so he can leave. Oh, he has to hope that one of his coworkers will discover him still down here and let Nora know that he’ll be staggering home in the middle of the night at the earliest.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters as if she can hear him, replacing the safety goggles. “I just…I have to, I’m sorry.”