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“There’s no way you can drink an entire litre of iced coffee in one sitting, that’s too much coffee!”
You’re right, I can’t drink one whole litre of iced coffee in one sitting.
I can (and will) drink two litres of iced coffee in one sitting.🥰🙏
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I need this so much😭
@darklylucid 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂
Selfshippers who spiral in any way, your f/o would help you stop falling down that deep pit, catching you and making sure you’re alright and comforting you until it’s all out of your system. They’re always there for you, they won’t stop when it gets difficult.
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All nighter again tonight 😭
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its so fun that T comes in little vials and it changes your appearance. its like a magic potion except you dont drink it
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I feel like @bisexual-horror-fan ghost wrote this🥺
Horniness is not intrinsically less pure than any other human motivation
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What's objectively spicier; sriracha, gochujang or kimchi?
Trying to work out where my spice tolerance is; I've familiarised myself well with kimchi so I hardly register the spice, but I'm having sriracha for the first time and it's barely spicy.
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I don't normally read stuff where the reader has a kid but hhhhh this was the CUTEST🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
"How'd you meet?" Lester Sinclair X GN! Reader
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Summary: You and Lester have been married for four years. You have a child together, and one day, as you're doing a few chores, your son asks you, "How'd you meet?"... There is no right way to say you fell in love with the man who lured your friends to their death and kept you because you were pretty. Warnings: There are mentions of death, but I don't specify HOW you got the kid (let your imagination go wild). Extra: No mentions of Y/N, sassy ass son, and S/N is son's name!! A/n: omg hiii!! Thank you for reading; I love Lester, tryna show my man some love! If you enjoy, consider a like and let me know what I can fix! Shoot me a comment! Love you!
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It was a hot day in Ambrose as you stood in your front yard in front of the small cabin Lester had built for your family. You carefully hung the wet laundry, taking it from the wickered basket and hanging it up with wooden clips. Water would occasionally hit the back of your calf as the sprinkler spun, and your son laughed as he jumped, hopped, and chased the water. You turned your head, smiling softly at the boy. "Be careful, grass is wet, baby!" You exclaimed as he slid on the slippery grass, though he nodded. Picking up the basket, you made your way inside for a moment so you could grab a drink and, finally, sit outside and enjoy the hot weather rather than curse it. Your son followed you inside quickly, you put the basket by the bedroom door and entered the kitchen and again, like your little shadow, your son followed.
"I have a question," Your son asked, his voice curious and suspicious. You cocked your eyebrow and smiled at him as you grabbed a glass.
"I may have an answer then." Filling the glass with water, and taking a sip.
"How'd you 'n daddy meet?" His little country draw, something he got from your husband. Your eyes widen, harshly gulping the water. You hadn't been prepared for this question. You rubbed your mouth with your hand, slowly setting the cup down.
"Why?" it came out more defensively, shaking your head. "I mean, why'd you wanna know, sweetheart?" You crossed your arms, as your son copied your movement.
"Uncle Bo said you just showed up one day, and they've been takin' care of you ever since." S/N tapped his chin, his little nose scrunching up. You rolled your eyes; you knew precisely how Bo probably said it.
You let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, well, he ain't wrong, but no, that's not how we met." Tapping your fingers on the counter as you turned around, looking out the window. "Your daddy and I met at work... yeah, I met your daddy at his job." Wasn't wrong; you met Lester at the pit when your friend fell in, leaving out the part about how Lester charmed you so much you hadn't realized he was luring your friends and at the time, you.
"Where does he even work?" your son asked silently, seemingly bored with your answer, but his attention was flattered as he started walking back outside. You smiled, relieved to get out of the line of questioning. You quickly followed as you heard the loud rumble of a truck and a dog's bark.
"Jonesy!" Your son exclaimed as you shut the front door to preserve the cold air inside. The truck door slammed shut as Lester smiled at your son, then at you.
"Swear, he's more excited to see the damn dog than me," He joked, walking up to you. "Hey, baby." He mumbled, kissing you and wrapping an arm around your waist as his other hand fiddled with his keys.
You put your hands on his face, feeling his rough stubble. You smiled as he softly pulled back; he was grinning widely. Lester was still entirely in love with you, just as he'd been the moment he saw you. "Your son asked me somethin' today, didn't ya?" You looked at your son, who was in the sprinkler with Jonsey. "Mhm." The little boy nodded, "How'd you meet, Daddy? Since someone didn't tell me the truth." So sassy, you shook your head with a grin.
"Well, we met..." Lester looked at his son, then at you, and then back at his son. "We met when I bumped into her at... work." He nodded, satisfied with the excuse.
Your son groaned in frustration, and you laughed loudly. Lester looked between the two in confusion.
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Thank you so much🥺🥺🥺🥺 it's one of my favourite comfort fics too, I'm so happy I wrote this ❤️
All alone I break // upset!reader x Sinclairs // choose your own dynamic (platonic or romantic).
Summary: you're having a really bad day and none of the Sinclairs are around to comfort you. You wander the town, lonely and upset and tired, and just as you break, all alone in the middle of the main street, you're found and brought home emotionally and physically.
Got pissed off at my parents again for multiple reasons so wrote this to calm myself down. Hopefully it provides someone some comfort! I wrote this as a 'you're dating/are very close to all the Sinclairs' dynamic, but it could also be read as platonic; I've left it up to individual interpretation. Take what you need from this fic.🥺
AS ALWAYS, GENDER NEUTRAL READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, Y/N AND "YOU" USED.
TW; canon typical darkness, murder, crying (reader), fic's built around being and feeling alone (you're having a bad day and want some cuddles/comfort but no one's around🥺😭💔), reader is morally just as bad as the Sinclairs (I can't see you being in Ambrose permanently and NOT having at least a grey morality), possessive language ("your Sinclairs"), irresponsible driving (Lester is on the phone with you while he drives) but nothing bad happens, swearing, mentions of alcohol, this could be read as containing toxic relationship elements, but just like always, I wrote this to be a genuine love and connection between you and the brothers so if it does come across to contain toxic elements, please know it was unintentional!!! It just occurred to me that it could come across that way so I'm mentioning it here.
Word count: 4, 097 (why can I never write a short thing, I😩)
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The town was quiet and you knew not where anyone was. The last you had heard, Bo was in the garage working on his truck after some fucker had thrown a beer bottle at the headlight and subsequently broken it (and, oh, how Bo had ripped the man to shreds in retaliation), Vincent was in the basement turning said man into one of his latest art works (the location of which was to be in some barely used, dusty room because Vincent was a petty man when he wanted to be), and Lester was, well... you never really knew where Lester was.
That was the last you had heard.
But that had been hours ago.
The garage lights weren't on and there was no music blaring out from the main room which was used to maintain the illusion of a quaint, bustling town. There were no sounds to alert you of Bo's presence, and the metal grate just off the often walked curb only emitted darkness and silence. Bo wasn't there. You took comfort in the sight of his truck, thinking that that meant he was still in Ambrose, until you remembered that there were many other vehicles on the roads (to give the illusion of others living in the town) which he could have used as his transport.
The basement had been filled with nothing but thunderous silence; the engines switched off because the main part of Vincent's work (the wax application which always turned your stomach just a little) was done. The statue was there in the middle of the room, almost finished, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jonesy for that matter, which led you to believe that Vincent, too, had left Ambrose. Both human and dog being absent typically meant a trip out.
And Lester was presumably safe and well somewhere else, far from Ambrose. His house was on the outskirts of the neighbouring town; too far a distance for you to walk by yourself at this time of night... if the others had left Ambrose, then you were better off staying. Ambrose could never be left unattended, lest its many many secrets be discovered by someone it shouldn't be.
As for you, you were walking the street which led into Ambrose off the curve from the washed out road which shielded the town from people who didn't know where to look through the foliage to find the path. The church was up ahead of you, its lights on but nobody home, the garage station was dark and silent, and behind you was the pet shop, but that was quiet, too. Nobody was around. It was just you.
Just you...
You had previously been searching quietly, checking every building which was unlocked (of which there weren't many; just enough to maintain the illusion even with the lack of visitors to the town this night) and carrying out your searches with curiosity and a need which was climbing quickly from the pit of your stomach, up, up your oesophagus to get lodged in your chest. It had wrapped around your heart and with each empty room and with each Sinclair nowhere to be seen, it constricted and made you feel breathless. You knew not where your Sinclairs were, and it only made your emotional needs all the heavier, the lump in your throat increasingly apparent.
With everywhere checked and none of the Sinclairs found, you resorted to phoning Lester as you stood between the church and the gas station, having completed a full circuit of the town just by following the roads.The twins hadn't been in the house, where you had started the search, so you were well and truly out of options. Where the hell were they? You were beginning to not only miss them with such a strong need to know where they were, if only to know that they were safe and okay and alive, but you were also beginning to worry. Had something happened to them? Lester picked up after the fifth ring. It wasn't terribly late in the evening but you wondered if perhaps you had disturbed him in something somehow.
"Hey, Y/N!"
Oh, his voice... it sounded heavenly to you, especially after the rough day you had had prior to this, and you gripped your phone tighter. You wanted to climb inside Lester's voice, to be safe within him. It was the first bit of company you had had for hours. His voice caused the lump in your throat and the need wrapped around your heart to tighten and you felt the telltale sting of tears in the backs of your eyes and in the back of your nose. You swallowed thickly, "Hi, Lester." You took the phone away from your ear so you could compose yourself, but it was too late. Lester knew you far too well, and he heard your tears in your voice.
"S'matter, sweetpea? Bo bein' mean t'ya again?" Lester's voice hardened somewhat as he realised that something was wrong, but his tone was soft. It was a duality only the Sinclairs could manage, to be cold yet so feeling at the same time.
You huffed a watery laugh, your eyes wet and your tear ducts heavy with that which hadn't fallen yet. "No... at least if Bo was being mean to me, I'd know where he was... I don't know where Vinny is, either. They weren't in the house when I was so I thought they were in the garage and basement respectively, but... they're not there and neither are you and I don't know where you all are and I'm alone and - " Talking to Lester had tipped you over the edge from which you had been clinging to all day. You had woken up not feeling good, and the day's inconveniences on top of your responsibilities, duties and your already bad mood had collectively gotten the best of you. Not having the Sinclairs with you had made everything that much worse - you had only wanted to know where they were because the knowledge of their existences alone comforted you - and a sob ripped from your throat so strongly that your body gave out and you dropped to your knees. Right there, alone in the middle of the dark street, did you begin to cry in earnest, your anguish and distress so loud that it almost drowned out the low, soothing shushing which Lester was doing as he tried to comfort you as best as he could from miles away.
"Y're all right', darlin'. We'll find 'em," Lester was startled by your tears and confused; why had you phoned him and not one of his brothers? But he was also touched to realise that he had been your first thought when you hadn't known what else to do. You needed him as much as you needed his brothers, and it only made Lester love you more than he already did. "S'okay, Y/N, y're okay." He continued to murmur sweet nothings to you, his tone soft. You missed the tinkling of metal on metal as Lester grabbed his truck keys, the noise of boots crunching on gravel. "Did ya' check the sugar mill, darlin'?"
Everything stopped for just a moment as your weary mind raced to catch up. "... The where?"
Lester chuckled quietly, though there was little funny about the situation. You wondered if it was a stress or a panic response, or even just an awkward way to fill the silence, but the thought left your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You were just too tired to think; the world had pushed you too far today and you just wanted the Sinclairs. "M'brothers keep cars there from folks needin' fan-belts so they c'n strip 'em for parts." There was a muffled thud as Lester shut the truck door with the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, but you weren't paying much attention to anything other than Lester's voice, so you barely put the pieces together. He was coming for you.
"Is it in Ambrose?" Hope bloomed in your chest, as did the feeling of having overreacted and feeling silly, but you were in such a bad mood and so needy for the brothers that you barely cared. Bo would probably grumble, but even he couldn't find it in him to turn you down when you were in tears. If you were crying, it was somethin' serious and the brothers would walk through hell just to make you smile again. You would do the same for them in a heartbeat, so close were the three of you.
Lester didn't answer you directly. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was in Ambrose or just outside of the town, and he didn't much care, either. He had as little as possible to do with what went on in the family business and that was the way that it was going to stay. You were so much more important to him. "Where y'at, darlin'?"
You sniffled, your tears beginning to slow now, and on shaky legs did you stand. You didn't bother wiping them away, your eyes red-rimmed and sore but the tears continued to crash around you. "M' on the road where the church is. Gas station to my left and pet store just behind me. I checked everywhere but the sugar mill because I didn't even know - " Tears poured hot and heavy down your cheeks, but you were too worn down to do anything about it. You let them fall and your body once more followed until you found yourself on your knees again. You were physically and emotionally exhausted and you wanted the Sinclairs more than anything. You loved Lester, you did, but his voice just wasn't enough.
You needed more.
"Stay right there, sweetpea, don't you move." Lester's tone was reassuring but you knew that there was also a demand. He was a lot like his brothers and he didn't even bother to phrase it as a question. Lester was telling you to stay rooted to the spot, where you had told him you were. You normally did things out of spite, you did things you were told not to do... but when it was an emergency or when one of the brothers adopted a very specific tone - the one Lester had just used on you - it was a code which they had taught you. It told you to not defy them, to listen, and it was the one time, when there were no other options, you would do as you were told. It wasn't used often, only when it had to be, and it only made your worry for the brothers increase because Lester had never used it on you before. The twins had (Vincent's hand gestures had a particular feel, or vibe, to them when he was using it on you), but never Lester. It was times like this that you were forced to remember just how dark all of the brothers were. None of them were gentler than the others; they were all dark, dangerous, but you only loved them more for it. "I gotta hang up, darlin'. Jus' sit tight for me."
"No, Lester, please - "
The dial tone sounded before you could finish your sentence and you bowed your head, the phone tightly held in your grasp. You were so done with the day and your exhausting and emotional upheaval only made it even more so. It was obvious that Lester was on his way to you, for there was no other reason he would have told you to stay put, but what about the twins? Where were they? You looked up and around at the town, naming the 'shops' and places as you did as a way of distracting yourself and giving your mind something to do other than rip itself to shreds. You weren't to move from the spot, but even if Lester hadn't used that tone on you, you weren't sure that you would have moved. You only wanted to be picked up and cradled into someone's chest, so tired were you that you didn't even want to move. Gravel was biting into your skin and the sting of it kept you grounded in the moment, even as you cried all over again. Oh, but today had hurt you so much and you just wanted the world to go away so that you could spend time with the Sinclairs and just forget about everyone and everything except for them.
You didn't know how long you had been sat on the ground talking to Lester, but the sky had darkened from a bruised collection of purples and reds into a pitch black, punctuated only by stars long since dead. It was a quiet, tranquil evening, perfectly juxtaposed by the torment and anguish which had physically brought you to your knees, your shoulders bowed inwards as they shook with the weight of all that had been placed upon them. The Sinclairs were your reprieve from such cruelty in the world, but there was little they could do about the demons within.
Your phone rang and you jumped. A hand flew to your throat as you fumbled to pick up the call, your voice breathless and your need stronger than ever. "Hello?"
"M'sorry I had ta' hang up, sweetpea," You could almost picture Lester's mouth turning downwards as he shook his head, "Had ta' sort sumthin' out." He was being deliberately vague about something and a suspicion pinged in your mind but you didn't say anything about it. The only thing in your mind right now was getting what you wanted - the brothers. You just wanted the Sinclairs and, help you, but it only made you want to cry anew with every passing moment marked only by their absences. "M' comin', darlin', ain't far now."
You could hear his voice in the distance and you could just detect the rapid crunch on gravel and you smiled. You smiled for the first time all day and it made the ache in your chest and in Lester's ease somewhat to hear it in your voice as you said, "I hear you." You cut the call and looked around to see which direction he was coming from - a pointless endeavour because there was only one road which curved into Ambrose, but it kept you occupied for the few seconds it took Lester to stalk up the road to you.
When he spotted you illuminated by the street lights, he quickened his pace until he was almost at a jog and raised a hand by way of greeting. His happy smile dropped like a stone when he took in your tear-stained cheeks, your obviously sore eyes, your body language. "Oh, darlin'," Lester sighed, "That bad, huh?" Oh, but the sound of his voice... you stood on shaky, dead legs (numb were they from a lack of circulation due to your position on the floor) and threw yourself at Lester. He caught you, he caught you, and he held you tightly as his hands rubbed up and down your back in fluid, strong motions. "I got'cha, darlin', s'all righ'." You melted into him and Lester shifted his weight to accommodate you. "Y'seen 'em?"
"No," you sniffled and Lester pulled away to wipe your tears away with calloused, slightly dirty hands. He had washed up in the time since you had seen him last, but his truck was never cleaned and so it always rubbed off on him. "Only you. I checked everywhere apart from the mill. I didn't even think..." The rest of your sentence was drowned out by tyres screeching around a corner, gravel going flying and leaving a dust cloud as a bright yellow vehicle - Vincent's truck - came screaming up the road towards you and Lester. It barely came to a stop before both driver and passenger doors flew open and like a synchronised dance did Bo and Vincent climb out, slamming their doors shut in near perfect harmony - Vincent pausing to make sure Jonesy was secured in the backseat - as they rushed over to you and Lester.
"What the fuck happened, Y/N?" Bo got to you first as he grabbed you and pulled you into his body. Oh, but your tears fell anew for the third or fourth time - you had lost count of how many crying sessions you had had during the shittiest day you had had in a long time - and you clung to Bo, sobbing into his black shirt. He shushed you and you felt Vincent's grip on your waist, his wax mouth rested on the back of your head. You picked up a muffled 'mmf' noise from behind you as it vibrated against your body and your tried and tired mind registered it as a sound of worry and concern. You knew that his eye would be checking you over clinically to make sure that you weren't hurt, but when he ascertained that you were physically all right, his eye turned to Lester, demanding an explanation for your state. None of them had ever seen you this upset, this needy for them, and it was as confusing for them as it was for you. Clearly, this had been building within you for a long time and you had broken, first alone and worried, but now surrounded by love and protected. Safe.
"I - " You couldn't speak, your throat closed up with all the tears left to shed and just as many soaked into Bo's clothes, and Lester's dark eyes met your own, a look on his face so tender that it made your tears fall faster, and he understood what you were asking him to do. You couldn't speak, and you were asking him to do it for you. You trusted him with your words and emotions, you had come to him first so many times this night, and Lester only felt his heart break for you. He longed to take it away from you, to make it all better, but he couldn't, and neither could his brothers. They could only be there for you to help you ride it out, just as you did for the three of them when times called for it.
Vincent made another noise, this time one of impatience, and Bo sighed as he stepped back just enough for Vincent to come in, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. You melted into Vincent like the art medium he so favoured, your fingers in his hair (the tips crunchy with wax and the roots greasy, but that was a problem for tomorrow) and your face burrowed in his chest, and Bo stayed at your back, his chin resting on your shoulder with his head turned slightly as his beautiful blues eyed up Lester, still waiting. He would only ever ask once and if you couldn't give him and Vincent what they wanted, awkwardly sandwiched were you between the twins (and, oh, it was right where you had wanted to be ever since you had left the house this evening), then Lester would.
"I ain't never seen 'em like this. Phoned me up cryin' and sayin' they couldn't find ya', and it got worse the more I was speakin' to 'em. Di'nt know what ta' do 'cept come up here and ya' know I phoned ya' up after I finished on the phone with Y/N. Bad day, I s'pose. Real fuckin' bad day." Bo and Vincent both seemed to physically deflate with worry (neither of them had said it, but they had clearly broken more than a few traffic laws to get to you and Lester so their actions spoke louder than verbal words ever could) and they gripped you tighter. You looked up from Vincent's chest, trying to find Lester, and he smiled and stepped forward some more so that his upper arm was brushing against Bo's. "M'here, darlin'. We ain't leavin' ya'."
"Like hell," Bo growled, agreeing with Lester, "Get 'em in the truck, Vincent. An' you," He nodded at his youngest brother. "Goin' up to th' house. Can't stand out here all night." To you, Bo then said, "M'sorry, darlin'. We only stepped out to get some supplies an' I needed Vincent to help me load it up and carry shit in to the house. Didn't mean to scare ya'." Within that last sentence did you hear a promise to not do that to you again, to leave a note for you next time so that you didn't have to worry. They were more than capable of looking after themselves, you knew it well, but one stray bullet, one flick of a blade, and they could be lost to you forever. It was enough to make you want to cry even when you were in a good mood, this the brothers knew well. They worried for you as much as you worried for them, such was the immeasurable depths of emotion between the four of you.
Bo's apology made you freeze but you swiped a hand over your face. "No, I'm sorry, it's... been a horrible day and I've just had enough." You wanted to ask if they had gotten everything they need, but you knew that there was nothing in the world to stop the twins when they wanted something, truly so ruthless were they. They would have hurried through their supply run, but they wouldn't have stopped. You gestured vaguely towards the truck and went to walk off, but Vincent's grip became reminiscent of a boa constrictor and he shook his head at you. You understood and stayed still so that he could scoop you up effortlessly. He brought you into his chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he nuzzled his masked face into the side of your head as he carried you to the truck. Bo got into the driver's side and Lester climbed into the passenger seat, which meant that you and Vincent could sit quite comfortably tangled up together in the backseat.
It was a short journey, with the house only being two blocks away, but between Bo and Lester talking in the front seats, Vincent's lap being your wax throne upon, your general exhaustion, Jonesy's head under your hands as you found comfort in her soft fur and the safety and protection which had descended upon you like a thick, warm blanket with the arrival of the twins, you were quickly lulled to your threshold consciousness. You wanted to curl up on the sofa with your family and watch some crappy television and just forget the world and now, after a day in which everything could have gone wrong did go wrong, that was exactly what you were going to get.
When the truck pulled to a slow stop, you reluctantly slid off Vincent's lap, your back and lower body cold with the ghost of his touch (and how you ached to get back to where you wanted to be) and helped Bo to get everything in; between the four of you, the supplies were quickly off loaded and put away. You were jittery now, on edge and getting ready for bed was a process you rushed just so you could get what you wanted faster. Despite your anticipation, your body felt heavy and sluggish, but you were too tired to cry anymore and everything hurt. Bo had everything ready for you when you finally joined the brothers downstairs; there were beers on the table if you wanted to imbibe, snacks scattered around as if Bo had just grabbed them from the cupboards and thrown them over his shoulder into the living room (he had), blankets in a neat pile on one of the sofa arms, and all three brothers sat on the sofa, so closely that their shoulders were touching and Jonesy spread down at their feet.
You lowered yourself down onto the sofa with them, with your head in Bo's lap and your body stretched across Vincent's and Lester's, too, and your body took a naturally deep, deep breath. Finally, finally, you were home. You were all home, safe and sound and protected, and that was all that mattered. You had broken alone, but you would be supported and surrounded with love until you felt better. But even when you did, the Sinclairs would be there. They would always be, for Ambrose was your home and so were they.
None of you were goin' nowhere, and that was just how you all wanted it.
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That would work on me...😂
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@darklylucid HOLY SHIT🤩🤩🤩🤩😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥I'm gonna read this after work!!!!❤️ I still haven't rewatched HOW, it's been nearly seven months 💔
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American Cinematographer - Vol. 86, No. 5, May 2005
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I would die in a horror movie first because I would flirt with the killer.
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On my way home from the shop there's a baby crying because they're saying goodbye, presumably to their dad, and I thought, "don't cry, baby, save those tears for when you're older. You'll need them" and now I feel. Really old and really really tired.
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