Jun 29, 2015
perfectlytense replied to your post: Don’t go see Inside Out if you’re...
dude, i cried? i haven’t cried at a movie in literal years, but this one broke me.
Who is going to avenge Bing Bong
seen from China
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seen from Sweden
seen from Italy
seen from Philippines
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
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seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from United States
perfectlytense replied to your post: Don’t go see Inside Out if you’re...
dude, i cried? i haven’t cried at a movie in literal years, but this one broke me.
Who is going to avenge Bing Bong
perfectlytense
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magnolia!
oh my god. that’s like candy torture! who thought that was a good idea?
No but you don’t understand! They were the best candy in the whole wide world! And they had been the source of weird injuries for at least 40 years already! They already existed when my mom was a kid, and she told me how it was like, the most prized treat of them all. So much that my aunt agreed to a very stupid game: she had to splay her hand on the table, while one of my uncle slammed a hammer in the space inbetween each of her splayed fingers. And if she didn’t flinch or take her hand back, she’d win one of those ring-cherry. She fearlessly accepted the challenge and ended up with a candy AND a broken finger.
magnolia!
Magnolia:Favorite kind of candy?
mmh frog-shaped cola-flavored hard candies (that are just called “cola frogs”), harlequin candies, and also “ring-cherries”. I dont’ know the actual name of that last one, and it unfortunately doesn’t exist anymoe (at least not in Switzerland), and we used to just call them “ring-cherry”. It was a piece of wire with two round red cherry-flavored hard candies at each ends (hence the “cherry”) and there was a cheap plastic ring caught on the wire, and you had to eat the candy to be able be able to get the ring out. That was the best candy ever. I cut my tongue so many times sucking on it. And that wire was a freaking hazard! The extremities were sharp as hell and it was quasi impossible to not cut your tongue on it!
why aren't you writing me hockey fic? there's a dude whose nickname is literally daddy. how did you not hear that siren call????? i'm so disappointed in you right now.
what? wait, what??????????
ETA: NOPE DON’T DRAG ME INTO THIS HELL WITH YOU, HOE DON’T DO IT
perfectlytense replied to your post: I still don’t know a lot about hockey ...
i basically only know the objective of the game, but even i can tell that 5 dudes in the penalty box is just. wow. hilarious.
omg and like right after that Letang managed to get himself thrown out for misconduct; not sure which thing pushed him over but he did actively mock a ref lol.
Just now the commentator was like “penalties today are a total of 60 minutes... 52 of those to the Penguins.”
perfectlytense replied to your post: ewoman88 replied to your post: So I wa...
this is my favorite answer ever to any question of attractiveness
I FEEL BAD ABOUT IT THE MORE I PONDER IT because honestly I just wonder who could look at a fellow with a handlebar mustache and say “yes, I want that thing against my face!”
IT IS SO HARD TO IMAGINE!!
I FEEL VERY JUDGMENTAL RIGHT NOW I AM SORRY CHRIS THE WAITER
16 for draeden if you're up for it. and if not, 2 for sterek. :D
~16, Draeden :D--things you said with no space between us
She loses track of the miles they’ve traveled together, somewhere between the desert sand and the ocean. Derek never gives any indication that he’s been paying attention to distance or the span of time. He stays there, a steady patient presence at her side, humming along to the music, watching the world go by, his hands loose, body a long curve, fingers tapping drumbeats on his leg as she drives and drives, following rumors, a whisper.
They play road games, and she grows accustomed to the sound of his laugh, the way he looks surprised by it still, like a cat who’s just sneezed. Sometimes, he shifts into his wolf form, rolls the window down and sticks his head out of it and ignores her when she laughs at him, his tail thudding lightly on the seat.At night, they stay in shitty motels, when they can. When there isn’t one, they curl up together in the van, the seats flat, sleeping bags zipped together for warmth, trading secrets as dogs howl in the distance. He strokes her back with his thumb, his thigh heavy over hers. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I find her,” she whispers. It feels like a small thing to admit, in the dark, with his back between her and the rest of the world.
“It’s okay,” he tells her. She can feel him smile as she makes a little huff of disbelief. “You’ll know,” he says. And she hopes he’s right, and she holds him a little tighter.