If cringe culture is truly dead then you guys will read my bnha prequel fic based on my rabbit dad theory
out of curiosity do you know what the URL of the person your reblogging from refers to/means?
me browsing this folder: omg omG I don’t know which one I’m more excited to watch, this Frontline episode from 1992 or this NOVA episode from 1984!!!
the NSA agent who can hear everything through my phone:
Yes… YES! fucking hell I LOVE this! Give them all to me!!
IMMEDIATELY hit gold, thank you OP, i am respectfully stripping for you (1987)
funniest thing about the “reddit migration” is that I haven’t seen a single post shitting on anyone coming from Reddit. when twitter started bleeding users everyone was firing rent-lowering posts but with redditors skittering about we’ve left the doors open and put out food bowls
Tags were too good to ignore.
the worst is wanting to create and create and create but being trapped in a body that is so so so so tired
Romance Options
While the main plot of How to Ruin a Wedding involves a fake relationship, there are also four other optional character relationships that will shape the outcome of the story and determine how, exactly, a wedding is ruined.
These paths are NOT locked. This means that each character can be flirted with regardless of other ongoing relationships. Polyamorous relationships are also possible with high enough approval ratings.
[ vampire | the cherished son ]
You knew Alexandre long before he arrived at your doorstep with a plan and a proposal. The organization's once-loyal enforcer finds doubts surfacing after his father's murder, and only you have the answers to the questions he doesn't dare ask.
For now your relationship is little more than a smokescreen, but as time goes on it becomes harder to tell fact from fiction.
Romance Path: fake relationship to real
[ vampire | the reluctant bride ]
Everyone's heard of the materialistic heiress and her upcoming showstopper wedding. Very few people know the woman beneath the persona she wears like armor or the truth about her whirlwind romance.
You, more than anyone, understand that no choices made in this lifestyle are ever truly your own.
Romance Path: melting the ice princess
[ werewolf | the neglected groom ]
Weak and worthless compared to his famous siblings, what little value he has to his family comes in the form of an arranged marriage. It's a dream he's been preparing for since he was a child: a trophy husband any wife would be proud to show off.
Except his future wife wants nothing to do with him, and he can't get you out of his mind.
Romance Path: lone wolf finds his pack
[ sirenian | the disobedient daughter ]
Living in a literal tourist trap makes it hard to meet new people, but the celebrity wedding at her father's island resort presents Maruska with the perfect opportunity to rebel against her family's strict control.
Fake or not, a relationship won't be enough to dissuade her interest.
Romance Path: out for blood
[ satyr | the mother hen ]
From the moment you opened your eyes, bleeding out in a sterile room, she's been there. Every joy in this new life is owed to the angel who plucked you from the gutter, but it isn't until you return to your old life that you realize the depths of your gratitude.
You can only hope you survive long enough to make your feelings known.
Romance Path: home is where the heart is
twitter: currently owned by techbro pissman
tumblr: actively removing functionality and bloating the interface with things nobody uses
discord: being retooled by ex-Meta management who don't understand the appeal of the platform
youtube: neutered by advertisers and algorithms and also tiktokification
reddit: half of the site is down due to protests about the removal of third-party API support
facebook: my mom is on there
sourdoughnibblers
this video is genuinely incredible - the framing, the sunset, the single street light, the sound of traffic and cicadas in the background, the video of the sign capture imperfectly by (presumably) a phone camera. it’s a work of art and a perfect encapsulation of 21st century america
whenever you ask your friend who’s really into JRPGs “hey which one do i start with is the newest one fine” they always go “no, what you gotta do is head on over to ebay and look up the entry that completely bombed commercially. You’ll see that it goes for $800. Close ebay. Download an emulator for a console no younger than 17 years old. Download the ROM, and also this laundry list of various tweaks, retextures, and QoL tweaks. Pull up this exact spoiler-free guide put up a decade ago from GameFAQs, and you’ll experience the best game this series has to offer.” Like???
And they’re right
man this is like the worst year for tech and websites
discord is forcing a username change that no one wants, twitch nearly banned sponsored streams, imgur is banning NSFW and removing old pics, reddit is restricting their API usage and killing off all mobile apps, apple introducing some shitty overpriced AR headset, the amount of fuckups twitter is doing i cant even count on my own two hands its all becoming too much i hate technology i hate you silicon valley
For once the fact that I'm shit at editing images actually fits for this type of video
“If you’re going to kill me can we at least go somewhere private first?” you sigh, sick of the uncertainty. “Blood’s a bitch to get out of velvet.”
It’s a cavalier attitude to have about your own execution, but it’s better than thinking about some poor waitress finding your mangled corpse. Remaining calm also deprives Nettie’s chief torturer of a panicked plaything to torment.
Alexandre bends to retrieve his suit jacket and drapes it over his arm before facing you, intent interest burning in his eyes.
“I have no interest in taking your life. At least, not at the moment.”
“Why?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
He raises an eyebrow at you.
“Are you trying to change my mind?”
“No! No, I just uh…. Something tells me this isn’t an act of kindness.”
A smile quirks in the corners of his mouth, confirming your suspicions.
“No, I’ve never been accused of benevolence. It’s a matter of practicality, really. You’re alive, and I think you’ll be much more useful this way.”
His words are difficult to process. There are stories of Alexandre killing over smaller slights than murdering the head of the family. When the alternative is death, however, there’s little you can say on the matter.
“Useful for what?” you ask despite your suspicions.
“Dunno yet,” he says, nonchalantly inspecting the footprint you left on his jacket sleeve before looking back at you. “But when the time comes I’ll know where to find you.”
“Told you so,” you sigh wearily, closing you eyes for maximum effect. “I’m dead.”
You lean your head back against what you think is the floor and are surprised to feel something soft beneath your head. Alarmed, you open your eyes again and look at Alexandre.
Shirt. Tie. Waistcoat. Pants.
Something is missing. You try to recall what’s different.
Shirt. Tie. Waistcoat. Pants.
No suit jacket.
“Am I laying on your jacket?” you demand with more than a little alarm.
“Well, yes. I uh….”
The flutter of the curtains announces Doc’s arrival and spares him from having to explain why a thousand dollar suit is currently crumpled beneath your head. Alexandre shoots to his feet to greet Doc and distance himself from the unanswered question.
“What the fuck are you doing on the floor, Sophia?” Doc asks with more exasperation than concern.
“I fell,” is your meek response.
“No shit you fell, but why were you working the floor? You know you’re not supposed to—“ Doc shoots a look at the man beside you. “You’re not supposed to work overtime.”
Though they aren’t fully aware of the scope of your services, Doc is well experienced with the toll it takes on your body. Beside them Alexandre gives you an amused look as he puts together the cause of your fatigue and the smell of the dead that lingers on your skin.
“It’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Alexandre offers, intercepting Doc’s wrath. “Sophia and I—“
Oh, this is bad. Doc isn’t one to suffer fools, much less wealthy out-of-towners.
calling chatgpt “AI” feels exactly the same to me as calling those motorized skateboards “hoverboards”
It’s not as if you owe him an explanation, but you scramble for something to say to him just the same. Words come out of your mouth. They must be yours, though you don’t know what you’re saying.
You blink. Well, you think it’s a blink.
When you open your eyes again you’re looking up at the ceiling— and Alexandre Corbeau kneeling beside you. You try to sit up, but he stops you.
“Take a moment to rest,” he orders. You oblige, if only because you realize you don’t have the energy to maintain any position but horizontal. He then adds: “One of the waiters heard you fall and went to get the medic.”
You’re comforted by the news that Doc will be coming to save you from your embarrassment soon enough.
Helplessly, you watch as he removes a monogrammed handkerchief from his pants pocket and dabs at the side of your face. Weeks earlier you and Cookie had been drinking together and ended the night with him piercing your eyebrow while you were seated on his kitchen counter. Now your already aggravated piercing is bleeding, either from the fall itself or as a result of pushing your body beyond what it can handle.
“Thanks,” you manage weakly despite knowing he’s cleaning you up more for his own benefit than anything else.
“You stink of death,” he replies almost affectionately. It’s unclear whether this is a warning or simple observation.