me, late 20s, discovering i love to cook, and have neck pain: holy shit i’m going to turn into a person who does yoga
me, buying paper napkins and eyebanging a herb garden: i’m having an identity crisis
me: *reaches automatically for coaster, catches sight of my reflection in my newly purchased wine glasses that were on sale*: i don’t know who you are anymore
“i’m not a fan of embellishments on throw pillows, they tend to snag” I say, and gasp in horror at what I’ve become
“Did you know they make odorized garbage bags now?” I say without flinching, the sclerae of my eyes as black and ashen as my soul
khfgjfshgs any1 remember those pics of leonard nimoy circa….lets say ‘69-’75 all i know is he’s wearing this bangin like dark red turtleneck and he’s got a cake shaped like bilbo baggins house my bran’s telling me mardi gras beads are involved in some way please respond
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..and thus at last
and latest they came to Aman and the shores of Eldamar.
but most of all they sailed in their swift ships on the waters of the
Bay of Elvenhome, or walked in the waves upon the shore with their hair
gleaming in the light beyond the hill.
Sam/Frodo fic: *spends an entire chapter talking about hobbit land and property laws*
Me: 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit
I need to know what this fic is, for, like, reasons