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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months

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annoying things they do

𝑜𝑛𝑦

- doesn’t let you sleep in unless he’s sleeping in too. like this nigga would literally wake you up at eight am. durag, plaid pajama pants, and hoodie on. with his keys jingling in his hands on some, “ma get up we going to the store.”

- goes through a bottle of juice in less than two days. you literally have to buy him his own minute made and orange juice because if the two of you share it’ll be gone so quick.

- steals a lot of words and phrases from you, and they’re either used so wrong that you laugh or so right that you’d have no choice but to stand in shock. like he’d come home from the barbershop and go up to you like, “like my cut ma? it’s eating rightttt?” and you’d just be standing there like how do you know how to use that?

- this man is greedy. like all of them are greedy, but ony is a different type of greedy. he would never eat your food without permission, but let you open up a bag of chips around him. the next thing you gon see is his big ass hand in your face on some, “lemme get one” or if you eating a burger or a slice of pizza and he see you enjoying it. he’s in your face immediately. “lemme get a bite ma. shit look mad good.”

- smacks your ass so damn hard. like when y’all are having sex it’s not really an issue, but why is he sending you flying at eleven in the morning while you’re making eggs.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- says the dirtiest shit in your ear and just walks away after. he doesn’t care where y’all are either. you could be walking through the baby section of walmart just because it’s the fastest route to where you needed to go and he’d come up behind you, making you stop in your tracks as he put his hand on top of where yours were gripping the cart, dick print all on your ass while he whispers in your ear. “keep screaming ‘nut in me daddy’ while i’m fucking you and soon you gon be buying shit from here”. you didn’t even get to reply because once you moved to turn around he backed up from you and kept walking.

- always wants to finger you while he’s driving. especially if you have a sundress onnnn. he don’t care how long or short the drive is, you’re going to cum before y’all get to the destination. and it be so random because he asks so plainly like “ma pull your dress up. wanna play wit her”. not even looking away from the road. you’d try to talk him out of if, but ony doesn’t care. “ion care if we five minutes away. i could make you cum in two.”

- will fuck you literally anywhere. if you tease him you have about ten minutes to fix it or he’s going to fix it himself. which means taking you literally anywhere so he can get what he wants. sometimes you don’t even have to tease him. all it really takes is a pretty outfit and some nice perfume and he’s on you. he’s fucked you in fitting rooms, club bathrooms, party bathrooms, his old bedroom at his moms house, and the list goes onnn. if you looking good he’s on that ass.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

- heavy sleeper like it’s ridiculous. the first few minutes of him sleeping he’ll probably wake up if he hears something, but once he’s been sleep past an hour there is no waking that man up.

- literally bites you. if you point in his face he’s going to try to bite your finger. if y’all are play fighting and he gets on top of you he’s going to try to bite your neck. when y’all are chilling and he’s laying on your ass he’s going to eventually bite it. he has a serious problem.

- mocks your moans or plays your tapes out loud around the house if he feels that you’re “playing” with him. so if y’all are going back and forth don’t even bring up anything about his dick because he will use your moans against you.

“that’s not what you was saying last night. what happened to, ‘oh my god papi your dick so biggg’ and ‘please daddy i wanna have your baby’?”

or if y’all just got done arguing and you decide to just walk away and start cleaning (i clean when i’m mad). you’d be washing the dishes and out of nowhere just start hearing pornographic slaps and moans being played on the house speaker.

“daddy pleasee m’so sorryyy.*slap slap slap slap* you sorry ma? *slap slap slap* y-e-sssss fuckkkk.”

you’d sprint from the kitchen to the living room where connie was sitting, just sitting there rolling up like the whole house doesn’t sound like a scene off of pornhub. you’d try to snatch the phone from him, but he’d move his hand and get up. putting the phone high in the air so you can’t reach. “connie you bet-”

“say you sorry and i’ll turn it off”

- sometimes he’ll purposely not kiss you back when you kiss him. just letting you move your lips on his while he keeps his in a straight line to piss you off.

- just starts randomly acting like you. like you could be getting something from the fridge and he’ll walk up to you, chest full of tattoos, sweats sagging on his waist, holding up his phone. “girllll you really ate the girls up wit your new ig post. the fit is giving rich gyalll.”

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- eats you out for sooooo long. like he doesn’t care if you are screaming crying or passed the hell out. only when he feels like he’s done will he stop. if you try to stop him he’ll just say “it’s not about you mami. this for me” and then continue to remove your soul from your body.

- will purposely hit the wrong spots inside you when you piss him off. they aren’t particularly bad spots, but he knows you’ll never cum from him hitting them. of course you’ll complain about it because you know he’s doing it on purpose. “con s-stop ittt!” but of course he just has something smart to say back to you. “stop playin in my face and maybe i’ll hit it right.”

- another one that’ll fuck you anywhere, but he’s worse with it. he’s fucked you on the side of the road one night. passenger door open with you bent over the seat while he fucked you from outside of the car. he gives no fucks.

- is always breaking something. you tried to cuff him one time while you gave him head. he broke the cuffs…and it didn’t stop there. he’s broken two headboards, one of your nails, your glasses, and almost all of your waist beads while fucking you.

𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛

- if you piss him off before going to bed he’s going to take your bonnet right tf off while you asleep. then will proceed to laugh at you in the morning while your yelling cursing about your hair being fucked up.

- randomly starts yelling song lyrics. like y’all could be sitting on the couch and your bones would literally shake in your body cause he thought it would be okay to yell pop smoke lyrics out of nowhere.

-bends you over and starts acting like he’s fucking you. like if you’re making a tiktok while he walks in the room he will literally push you down by the back of your neck and start “drilling” your shit in the camera.

- wakes you up just to make you do stupid shit. you would be sleeping like a baby just to be shook up by his big ass hands on your shoulders. you’d wake up in a panic and he’d go “mama. mama look! the obama’s need our help we gotta get the men in black and shoot the aliens cmon!” and of course your confused ass is gon get up, taking the broom he handed to you and going into the living room to “fight”. when you realize what he said and turned towards him, he was already well into laughter. watching you mumble curses under your breath before walking back to your room.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- if you’re the one coming to him for sex he’s going to make you work for it. he loves when you take the initiative, getting on top of him and taking what you need. it was the sexiest thing in the world so now if you want it you have to come get it. if you try to whine about it he’ll just tell you, “s’your dick mama. if you really wanted it you would take what you need instead of just having daddy fuck you silly all the time.”

- teases you soooo much. whether it be standing real close behind you, staring at you with that sexy look on his face or just straight up choking you, tonguing you down, then walking tf away. aran lovessss to tease you.

- if he sees you getting a little too “friendly” with a guy he will make you call them while he’s fucking you. purposely hitting all of your favorite spots so a moan or two can slip just so they can know that you will always be his. he’ll also make it very known that he’s the one fucking you.

“uhh huh. ask em how his day was mama” he’d say in a breathless tone. loving the way your ass bounced off his lower stomach. “h-how was your day?” your friend wouldn’t know whether to be horrified or turned on at the situation. clearly the latter since he began to palm himself through his pants on the other end of the phone.

if they choose to stay friends with you that’s fine because aran knows that every time they see you they’ll think of him.

- sometimes will make you watch him eat you out, knowing that it always made you cum faster when you’d watch him slowly let his spit drip from his mouth to your clit.

𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎

- sucks a massaging feet. one minute he’s rubbing and squeezing the tension from them, then the next minute he’s trying to put them in his mouth or he’s putting them in the chokehold while tickling the fuck out of them.

- do not let this man buy you a pair of sneakers. he will watch you like a hawk, just itching for you to do something wrong so he can cay something.

“mama don’t walk like thatttt. you gon crease themmm”

“baby pay attention where you walkin. could’ve been stepping in shit like five times and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

tanaka has so many different sneakers and treats them like babies so when he buys you a pair you need to treat them that way as well or it physically pains him.

- bumps his head all the timeeee. you have to watch this man around the house or the next thing you know you gon be hearing “OWW…shit that hurt!” cause he bumped his head on the corner of the kitchen island while picking something up.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- always eats you out before and after sex. doesn’t care if you shaking and pushing his head away because your “too sensitive”, after he gets done fucking you he’s going to eat you out. whether he nut in you or not

- purposely fucks you harder when he knows people can hear. loves the embarrassed/shy face you make while getting dressed after he’s finished knocking the mario coins out of your pussy in your grandmas bathroom at your family barbecue.

- if y’all fuck after arguing he makes you repeat everything you said while you were mad while he’s pounding you into the mattress.

“say it ma. repeat what you said t’me”

“y-you not the o-only n-nigga i need shittt”

“now is that true?”

“nuh uhhhh. s’not true daddy”

“then if i hear it again ima fuck you even harder cause not only are you being disrespectful, but you lying too”

- will fuck you like the meanest nigga on earth. i’m talking slapping your ass so hard you actually seen hints of red in your skin, spitting all in your mouth, choking you while giving you light slaps on the face to keep you from passing out, then will have the audacity to go hop on the game all giddy and happy like you weren’t still on the bed trying to remember your name and who you were.

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libraford · 4 years

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The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time.

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word.

Don't.

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs.

Let them.

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem.

Life is surprising.

I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now.

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in.

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think."

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly.

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!"

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door.

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later."

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice.

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away.

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time."

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying.

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods.

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register.

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out.

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief.

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices."

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special."

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story:

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them."

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that."

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?"

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious.

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag.

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison.

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking.

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen.

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!"

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture.

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow.

And that's why there are rules.

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful.

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said.

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse.

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street.

Wren drives very fast.

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry.

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief.

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect."

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her.

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing.

So now there are rules.

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag.

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out.

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first.

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00.

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight.

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags.

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it.

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it.

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you.

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble.

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules.

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount.

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways.

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said:

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!"

"They've been sitting without water for hours."

"They're still good!"

"They were out in the sun."

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!"

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears.

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage.

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me.

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email."

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday."

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!"

"Saturday."

"Yeah."

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday."

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale."

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday."

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer.

And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together.

"Sure."

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink."

"Sure."

I print it. I ring her up $5.

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free."

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5."

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time."

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?"

She grumbled, and paid.

And again.

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?"

"When the work is done."

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren."

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?"

"When the work stops, I rest."

And again.

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up.

"Oh baby..."

"No. We're doing away with the discounts."

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling.

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-"

"How can you do this to me?"

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement."

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?"

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar."

Stamp, stamp, stamp.

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back.

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register.

"Is it now?"

And again.

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin.

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned.

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go.

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me.

I began taking down numbers.

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens.

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler.

"$54? What do I have that's $54?"

"The oasis. They're $2 each."

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1."

"I can text Grandpa and ask her."

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!"

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses."

"22.50 is everybody prices."

"Welcome to 'everybody.'"

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!"

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else."

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me.

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me.

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this."

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.'

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand.

"Can you do something for me on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty."

"9.50."

"9.50's the regular price."

"Regular price is $14."

"No it ain't."

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals."

She put them back.

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy.

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!"

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice.

Not here.

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be.

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes...

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.'

"No."

It's such a great word.

There are rules and there are rules.

And there are thieves that the rules are made for.

And there are words like 'no.'

And all those things are magic in very human ways.

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chibsytelford · 3 years

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The Zoo

Gif credit to - @marvelmaree

A/N - just a silly Angel fic that just randomly popped into my head(don't ask).

You can join my group chat here <<<

After a long day at work all you wanted to do was to come home and have a nice warm bath. But apparently your boyfriend or should you say child had other ideas.

As you pulled into the drive all you saw was toilet roll everywhere. Around the trees. Across the grass. Taped to the front door. And even across the roof. You knew that drone you got him for his birthday would come back to bite you on the ass.

Shaking your head and slightly smiling to yourself, you got out the car and entered the house, dreading what was awaiting you inside. As you stepped into the hall you noticed the stairs first. Angel had covered them in a leopard print pattern. It honestly looked hideous. Turning to your left you entered the kitchen instantly looking for a change. And you found it. He had somehow managed to cover the worktops and the walls in zebra print, replaced the table and chairs with picnic benches and printed out pictures of lions, elephants and giraffes and taped them to the walls. At this point you didn't want to look anywhere else in the house.

"ANGEL IGNACIO REYES!" You shouted and you heard his footsteps upstairs getting closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you.

"Hey querida" he smiled pulling you in for a kiss ignoring the look of disdain on your face and not even batting an eyelid at the mini zoo you were standing in.

"Don't hey querida me" you took a step back and gestured to the kitchen. "Why did you think that this would be a good idea?"

Angel pondered your question for a minute clearly ignorant to the fact that you hated it. He then shrugged and said in the most matter of fact tone "Your nephews are coming tomorrow. You told me you wanted to take them to the zoo"

His reply caught you off guard for a minute and you struggled to keep your laughter at bay. "Yes Angel. Take them to a literal zoo. And see real animals. Not turn our house into a zoo!" You tried hard to stay mad at him but honestly you could see he went to a lot of effort to decorate even if it was an eye sore.

"Care to explain the toilet roll outside then? It's not very zooey"

"I couldn't think of anything else to put outside" he replied.

"Of course you couldn't, I gotta remember I'm dating an actual child" you muttered to yourself, but apparently Angel heard.

"I know you are, what am I?" He answered quickly, too quickly for him.

"You're so petty" you laughed nudging his shoulder with your hand.

He flicked his hair and replied "Damn right I'm pretty".

You snorted, your long and hard day at work totally erased from your mind. You were thankful for Angel being a bit immature and jokey because you knew he did it to cheer you up and see you smile. He would do anything to see that smile of yours.

The oven went off signalling that whatever was in it was cooked. You raised your eyebrows at him. "Do I wanna know what you're making?"

"Turkey dinosaurs of course. With a side of sheep".

Angel took the food out of the oven and you burst into laughter at the site of the sheep. It was just some simple cauliflower but you could see the resemblance. Then it hit you. "Angel... My nephews aren't coming over until tomorrow" you reminded him.

"I know querida, this is for us" Angel excitedly admitted. "Wait till you see what's for dessert"

You shook your head lightly but smiled nonetheless. He really had gone to a lot of effort in his own way. You decided to go along with Angel's dinner and grabbed 2 plates from the cupboard and some cutlery. Placing them on the table Angel served the food and then grabbed 2 beers from the fridge and passed one to you.

You raised your eyebrows again. "No capri suns?" You asked

It was Angel's turn to laugh. "Now who's being petty".

@encounterthepast @mayans-sauce @rebelwrites @mrsmarvelous1995 @calif0rnia-lovers @yourwonkywriter @everyhowlmarksthedead @angelreyesisdaddy04 @angelreyesgirl @jadesamhart @queenbeered @pancakeisreading @phoenixhalliwell @louisianalady @meteora-fc @kid-from-new-zealand @destynelseclipsa @gemini0410 @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @blessedboo @sheeshgivemeabreak @scuzmunkie @jasminee97 @est1887 @anangelwhodidntfall @talicat713 @starrynite7114 @trulysuccubus @withmyteeth

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes #mayans mc

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huangbae · 3 years

Text

˗ˏˋ SPENDING VALENTINES DAY WITH... ´ˎ˗

nct dream <33

a/n: happy early valentines day guys !! btw sorry if this story is formatted weirdly, i'm using a different device so idk how this fic would look on mobile :]

btw this is mostly a crack fic, if you were expecting smth more fluffy this is prob not it, some members parts are more romantic than others

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

< mark >

bought you a teddy bear

one of those teddy bears that sing a song everytime you press the button

he thought your reaction to it was cute

until you kept replaying the song

and he accidentally

misplaced it

he didn't wanna admit it until you got sad bcs the bear reminded you of him

one day he suddenly found the bear

he still hated the bear

but it was tolerable bcs you enjoyed it

sometimes he catches himself humming the song

and he gets annoyed bcs the songs so catchy

< renjun >

he forgot it was valentines day

so when you called and said you had a valentines day surprise

he panicked

he stole a chocolate bar from one of the dreamies

spent 10 minutes trying to draw you a card

he didn't have any time to write anything specific in the card

just

"happy valentines day i love you -renjun"

you burst into his room while he was painting the front of it

"y/n, do you not know how to knock?”

".......happy valentines day?"

< jeno >

took you out to eat

while you were eating

you accidentally spilled your soda all over your outfit

he gave you his jacket to cover the stain on your pants

but you ended up getting really embarrassed

so you asked if you could take the rest of your food to go

he drove you back to his house

and lent you some of his clothes

haechan was confused when you left jenos room with one of his shirts on

"haechan its not what you think, they just spilled soda all over their shirt come on i wouldn't lie to yo--"

< haechan >

very over the top

for the whole day he was playing a valentines day playlist

he also got you a rose

approached you with it in his mouth

"be my valentine"

raises his eyebrows

and winks

you took the rose out of his mouth and ran away with it

he chased after you

"Y/N YOU JERK"

< jaemin >

spent an hour photoshopping you and him

like he literally cut your both of your faces

and put them on a couple he found after googling "happy couple"

he printed it and put it on a card

also gifted you a box of chocolate

thought he was really smooth and clever

handed the card in an envelope to you w a smirk on his face

watched you open it

"jaemin you realize you could've just used a pic of us"

"THATS NOT THE POINT, Y/N."

< chenle >

dressed really nice for the occasion

wore a beret

hdhfhdjjf

asked you to be his valentine days before

also asked you what your favorite flower was

took you to the park

when you got there

he handed you a bouquet of daisies

"chenle, i said i liked roses"

"....i could've sworn you said daisies"

you did

you were just trying to joke around with him

"you're not good at jokes, y/n"

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

< jisung >

he bought you the dvd for your favorite movie

the wrapping job for the box was

questionable

"i asked jeno for help wrapping it, i think it looks fine :("

also got you a box of those heart candies w the messages on them

which were also wrapped questionably

you grabbed some of the tape from the gifts and stuck it on his forehead

after a few minutes

you kissed the tape that was on his forehead

he just went

jfhgjfjfnffj

if you know what i mean

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

hope you enjoyed :)) if you'd like to submit a request, you can if you'd like to :D, happy valentines day btw :)

~ with love, huangbae :)

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

Text

kissed by mist and can dew attitude

pairing: harry styles x reader (farmers market au)

warnings: awkwardness!! shy!baker!harry, mentions of the qu*rantine, drug use, harry's chest hair, giggly, sweet high sex, some dirty talk :) unprotected sex

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: harry is an idiot, and y/n is a bit of a tease

author’s note: you can read this for a little background to this au (but it’s not really necessary; i tend to over explain things anyway, so you can get a pretty good understanding just from this) literally no one asked for this, but market season is coming up again, and i missed writing about these two :( hope you enjoy! xx

masterlist

—

Harry is so tired of being cooped up in this house.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves staying home.

He is normally the introvert that puts all other introverts to shame. He loves staying at home, he loves hiding away after a stressful day at work, he goes out of his way to not talk to anyone while he’s out, and he very rarely ever goes out on the weekends. He loves just being able to stay at home, relax, and not worry about anyone bothering him.

But, at a certain point, it becomes too much; now, he just wants to get out, go for a walk, go to the grocery store, talk to someone other than Y/N, just do something, anything, other than staying at home. Yes, it’s for a good reason, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for the illness spreading, but it’s also straining on his mental, physical, and financial health.

He honestly wants to go back to work.

Since this entire situation started, Harry has only had a couple of shifts at The Sweet Spot, since, apparently, cafes are “essential businesses”, but the nutrition store next door isn’t (the world definitely has their priorities straight). Honestly, it was kind of nice; he didn’t have to schmooze any customers, since he only saw the delivery drivers. There was the occasional ignorant person who would come up to the doors and pull on them, despite the very clear signs saying that they were not open to the public, only to find them locked, and Harry very happily told them to go away.

However, Marty couldn’t afford to have him take up any more shifts, which he completely understands, so he’s been stuck home for weeks.

Needless to say, both he and Y/N have been getting a little stir crazy.

They tried to keep a somewhat healthy lifestyle in the beginning, hiking the nearby trails or walking at the park, but everything started to become too crowded. They even went cycling, but Harry proved to be even more of a klutz on a bike than on his own two feet, resulting in a bump on his head and a scraped elbow, which is still healing beneath a floral printed plaster.

Y/N’s had some failed experiments, leading to several four-hour kitchen clean-ups, and she also started a “Fermentation Station”, with dozens of glass jars filled with fermenting fruits and teas, the smell of yeast strong in the air. She was so proud of herself the first time she made carbonated water from things they already had in the house (“Look, Harry, it’s so convenient”). She ended up adding more and more things to her collection. They argued about it for a couple of days before she finally settled and moved her jars to the back porch after the kitchen started smelling like alcohol.

While Y/N has her experiments, Harry stress-bakes. He can’t even count how many loaves of bread, fruit pastries, cookies, and cakes he has made. He made crepes using sourdough starter. That’s how bored he’s been. He waited five whole days for his starter to mature, just to make four crepes between himself and Y/N.

But, there’s only so many things to do before you’ve completely run out of ideas.

On this particularly boring day, it’s two in the afternoon before they finally get out of bed, no thanks to their terrible sleep schedules, and they move onto the couch, which is officially broken in after how many hours they’ve spent on it. It’s sunny outside, bright and warm, the bright light beaming through the large bay windows in the living room, making staying inside even worse.

Y/N convinces him to paint his fingernails (and not just his toenails), and he happily indulges her. It’s nice feeling pampered for once, and whenever Y/N gets into her let’s-have-a-spa-day moods, she goes all out. While his toenails, painted with a pretty green color called Can Dew Attitude and a shimmery top coat on them, dried, she put some all-natural mud mask on his face, that bubbled and seeped into his skin.

“This is great for your pores,” she says as she puts a lukewarm cloth on his mask. “Not that you have bad skin. It’s better than mine, you ass.”

He just smiles, feeling the clay crack, and leans into her touch. She’s gentle, waiting until most of it is soft and pliable before she wipes it away. As she dries his face, with a towelette that smells like lavender and honey, his freshened skin, flushed and smooth, glows in the afternoon sun, his pretty eyes magnified behind a pair of thick, black framed glasses. Y/N sits across from him, her leg tucked up underneath her with his hand steady on her knee.

“It’s not gonna, like,” he pauses, glancing warily at his nails, “poison you or anything, right?”

“What?” She laughs, putting an oil around his cuticles. He leans forward, watching her carefully. He readjusts the headband, inadvertently pushing it back a little too far, until some curls slip onto his forehead. She hits the bottle of Kissed by Mist against her palm, the pale pink polish making a nice ticking sound. She starts on his nails, but not before making a comment about how cute his little pinkie is, which makes him flustered.

“It’s not gonna poison you when I, ya know, like… when I…”

He motions with his free hand, grouping his ring and middle fingers together and curling them, and he bites on his cheek, brows furrowed, trying to see any changes in her expression. He stops and shakes his head, a frail blush creeping up to his ears.

“By the way you’re reacting, ‘m assuming it’s not a thing,” he sighs.

“No, the polish will not poison me when you finger—“

“Shh,” he hushes her, pressing his hand against her lips. She pushes him away.

“Harry, we are the only ones here,” she says, finishing his right hand.

“Ya know what that mouth does to me,” he mutters.

“Really? You get turned on when I say, ‘finger me’?”

“Ya know I do,” he pouts, grappling for her. His hands twist the thick cotton of her jumper for only a second before she’s scooting away, swatting at him.

“No, H, your nails are still wet,” she says, and he groans, sinking back into the couch cushions.

“So bored.”

“Everyone is,” she says, filing down his left thumb nail.

“Wanna get high?”

He just wants to stop this feeling of absolute boredom. It’s better since Y/N is here with him, but it’s getting to a certain point where he’s willing to do just about anything to feel, well, anything.

One night, they tried her “prison wine”, which was just cranberry cocktail and yeast that fermented for a couple of days; it tasted worse than it sounds. It did, however, get them very drunk, and they woke up the next morning with pounding headaches, upset stomach, and purple stained lips. It was honestly the worst hangover he’s ever had, and he vowed to never try it again.

Getting stoned has then become a regular thing. On those horribly boring nights where they had absolutely nothing to do, where they’ve both been on the couch for hours, not being able to find the willpower to move, and on those nights where they just wanted to feel and simply be elsewhere, they found solace in the warming daze.

She grins.

“Sure, I think we still have some gummies,” she says, moving toward their “special” drawer in the side table.

“Only a half this time, lovie,” he says as she turns back, and she rolls her eyes.

“They were a lot stronger than the other ones,” she says, ripping the poorly stuck tape from the plastic packaging.

“I know,” he smiles, popping the candy in his mouth. She sits back down beside him, her leg thrown over his lap. He moves his hand dangerously close to her inner thigh, his fingers dancing along the length of her thigh until they reach the hem of her panties, tugging at the material until it snaps back. He’s so close to feeling her warmth, if only he moves just a little further, but she yanks his hand back, puts it on her knee, and gives him a smug little smile, continuing her work.

It takes an hour, or two more coats of nail polish, for the edibles to kick in, but when they do, Harry thinks he pissed himself. Forgetting about Y/N’s leg across his lap, he mistakes her warmth as pee, and he jerks up, jolting her. She looks up at him, blinking. There’s a strip of white polish on the side of his thumb.

“You are so good at this,” he says slowly. He honestly couldn’t imagine painting such tiny details if he were sober; he doesn’t know how she’s doing it stoned. She’s swaying and blinking slowly, but she looks focused, her brows furrowed.

“You’re good at this,” she mumbles.

“What?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” she says. “It’s easy if I can concentrate.” Her eyes flicker up to his, a smirk curled over her lips.

“‘M I distracting you?” He raises a brow.

“I can feel your cock,” she says.

“Please, don’t say cock while you’re touching my cock,” he says, readjusting his growing bulge. She just chuckles and moves her foot along his boxers, where his semi and the top of his thighs connect. His hips twitch.

She barely caps the nail polish before she tosses it to the side and straddles him. He cups her hips, the fact that his nails are still wet long gone from both of their minds. She holds him by the neck, tilting his head back. Before she can capture his lips, he hesitates, his hands tracing along her thighs.

“Are you sure?”

Even though they’re practically living together at this point and have had sex plenty of times, he can’t help but ask her that same question every time. He’s never been one to feel secure in himself, and to have someone who is so open and willing to trust him, it’s overwhelming and intimidating sometimes.

“Of course, H,” she says, nibbling at his bottom lip, and then, he kisses her, fully and profoundly. He could just melt into her, his senses consumed by her warmth and love. He wouldn’t go as far as saying that the sex is better than when they’re sober. It’s great all the time, but there’s something about being high, with his skin buzzing and all of his senses heightened yet dulled at the same time, that makes the experience different. It’s different because he’s not worried about what he’s doing and saying; he’s focusing on the feeling, all of the sensations and simply her.

She tries to pull his shirt over his head, but it gets caught on the chain around his neck, and she tugs a little too hard, yanking it tightly around his throat.

“Easy, Y/N,” he laughs, holding onto her wrists. “I know you’re eager to get me naked, but I think you forget that I am also precious cargo.” Her lips sink into a pout, and he’s able to get the shirt off, throwing it off to the side, his headband going with it.

“You are precious,” she says, squishing his cheeks together. She cups the back of his neck and pecks his lips, gentle and loving. “Love these little baby hairs,” she says, running her hand over his skin, teasing and tugging on his chest hairs.

“They’re not baby hairs,” he says, pouting. He teases his hands along her hips, nails digging into her fleshy skin. “I am a man.”

“Oh, I know,” she chuckles, feeling his hips jerk up, pressing his swelling bulge into her. He wraps his arms around her waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of her back, and nestles his face into her chest. She shifts further up on his lap, fingers carding through his soft hair. Being far too lazy to take it off, he sucks on her breasts through her worn tee, her nipples hardening in his teeth. She pushes his boxers down and readjusts herself over him, rubbing her clothed pussy along his pulsing cock. She tugs her panties to the side, and he moans at the sudden warmth, her arousal coating him.

“You like that?” She asks breathily, rocking her hips faster. “Like feeling me drip onto your cock?”

“What if I just—” She teases the head of his cock, just barely pushing him inside before she pulls out. He can barely make a sound, his throat tightening when

“You like it when I tease your cock? Can feel you throbbing.” Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of him just breaking past the barrier of her tightness. “So needy for me, bubba.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he moans.

“Tell me, babe.” She holds him by the jaw, the pads of her fingers pressing perfectly into his pressure points, and he struggles for breath, making his head even lighter and obscured. He grins. “Tell me how much you love my pussy,” she says as she sinks fully onto him, her walls swallowing him easily.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and drawn out. His head falls onto the couch cushions, eyes closing to savor the feeling of her gripping him, but she pulls him back, forcing him to keep eye contact. “I love it; love you more, though,” he says.

“Say it,” she coos.

He blushes, heat spreading from his chest to the tip of his ears. He has never been vocal when it comes to sex; he always gets flustered and anxious when having a normal conversation, so he couldn’t even imagine how how awkward he would be while trying to talk dirty. It’s even more difficult because of how much she’s teasing him, slow and languid movements up and down his cock, his head just barely inside her before she comes back down, her hips grinding against his. She has this look in her hooded eyes, a lustful and greedy look, that’s telling him to give in to his instincts.

“Love y-your pussy, baby,” he moans.

“Yeah?” She starts riding him faster, her walls milking him. He groans. “Tell me how it feels, H.” She smirks, like an actual full blown, teasing smirk; she knows exactly how good she’s making him feel. She likes seeing him so flustered and babbly and incoherent.

“So fucking good, so warm and wet, perfect for me, lovie,” he says, and she grins, teeth bared. She kisses him, messily and harshly. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, stilling her hips, and a hand travels up the length of her spine, beginning at the curve of her bum, dipping momentarily beneath her large tee, before moving up to the back of her neck, pressing her lips tighter to his. He cradles her head while he moves onto the floor, but it’s not nearly as graceful as he hoped it would be. They crash to the ground.

“Oh, god,” she squeals, and her walls squeeze him painfully tight. Her nails dig into his back.

“Wha’s wrong?” He wipes the sweat from his forehead, fingers raking through his hair.

“No, no,” she stutters, hands moving onto the swell of his ass, keeping him still. “You’re so deep.”

He swears his arms are going to give out at the sound of her sweet little whisper, her voice weak and broken.

“H-how deep?”

He can’t help the break in his voice, and embarrassment floods him. He’s honestly trying his hardest to sound sexy, but he just sounds like an idiot.

“As deep as the ocean,” she mumbles, and she looks so positively fucked, out of it and dazed with hooded eyes; he honestly doesn't even think she realizes what she said because when he starts laughing, she gives him the cutest look, her brows furrowed, lips curled. “What?”

“Congrats,” he says, leaning back and onto his knees, his arms curled under her thighs, knees hooked over his arms. “You almost just made me go soft. Never done that before.”

“Shut up,” she says, grinding her hips into him. His thrusts start slow, deliberate, but the more she reacts to him, the more she bucks and grinds, the faster they become, until he can’t anymore, driving his cock in with fast, precise thrusts.

“You look so good like this,” he says, groping her breasts over her tee, nipples swollen and hard. They move with every thrust of his hips.

“Thanks, it’s the shirt,” she says breathily, a weak smile on her lips. “It covers up all my ugly parts.”

“Tha’s not what I meant,” he says, frowning. He leans over her, hands on either side of her head, and she lets out a weak moan as his cock moves deeper inside her. “Look beautiful all the time.” He genuinely looks sad as he brushes away a bead of sweat from her forehead. “You don’ have to take your shirt off when we have sex, not if you don’ want to. I take it off normally because I thought it would be more comfortable for you, and, le’s be honest, your tits are amazing, and I love seeing your curves and your—”

She suddenly pulls him in for a kiss, ceasing his ramblings. He’s cute when he gets all nervous; despite the fact he’s balls deep inside her, he’s still a worrier. It’s sweet that he’s concerned about how she’s feeling, even though he’s not fully present, with red cheeks and hooded eyes, chest heaving for breath. She raises her hips, grinding up into him, her swollen clit just barely grazing against his abdomen. She clenches around him at the sharp, sudden burst of pleasure.

She raises her feet from the floor, and he presses her knees to her chest. The sound of him fucking himself into her wet cunt fills the air, obscenities and pleasured whimpers joining. Not having the energy to kiss fully, he traces his lips along the curve of her jaw, tender and messy. His thrusts become sharper and deeper, knocking the breath from her lungs with every move of his hips.

“Oh, god, ‘m so fucking wet.” She laughs, feeling through her soaked curls to her throbbing clit. She really is; her arousal drips onto their thighs and into the carpet. Her head spins, burning pleasure building as he grinds into her and spreads her legs further apart.

“Fuckin’ hell—” He whines as she tightens around him, her fingers rubbing her little clit raw.

“‘M gonna come,” she moans, tugging at his hair. “C’mon, baby,” she coos, “want you to—” She swallows thickly, her breathing shallow. Her eyes roll back as she pinches her poor swollen clit, her thighs trembling. She meets his thrusts, eager for her impending orgasm. “Want you to come in me, wanna feel your cum in my—”

She lets out one loud moan, her body trembling and shuddering beneath him as pleasure rushes through her, leaving her limbs tingling and her mind muddled. They bask in the afterglow, their breaths in sync and deep, and he slumps onto her, wrapping his arms around her, tracing his hands over any piece of skin he can. He just wants to savor this feeling, the closeness, the warmth, the tenderness.

Her hand suddenly fishes over to the caramels that Harry made a couple days ago, which have been taunting her in a faux-crystal bowl on the coffee table for the past couple of minutes. The make-shift wax paper wrapper crinkles, and the sound makes him look up, his eyes still hooded, movements languid with exhaustion. He opens his mouth sleepily, and she rips the caramel in half. They both moan at the same time at the taste and fall into a fit of giggles. He moves to his side, his chest pressed to her back, softening cock pressed to the curve of her bum.

“Sorry,” he says, “messed up your art.” He flashes his nails, the pink paint still soft and pliable, littered with nicks and dents and imprints from the couch cushions. She hooks her fingers through his and tugs his hand down to her lips.

“Worth it.”

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #ellie writes #ellie writes fluff #ellie writes smut #gif not mine #credit to owner

448 notes · View notes

dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Text

respice finem

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced violence and abuse

part one link

obligatory irl inspo link

Max keeps pacing up and down the diameter of the room. She stretches her hands over her head and Billy thinks her protective hovering is starting to bug the nurses. They both stayed overnight but Billy’s at least taken a couple breaks. He got himself some Doritos from the vending machine. Borrowed and smoked a cigarette even though he virtually quit a couple years back. Took a short drive to a Kmart up the road and bought Max a change of clothes, supposing he wouldn’t able to get her anything of her own if her home was wrapped in caution tape.

“You wanna go down to the cafeteria, maybe? Get something to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Okay…did you know they have a gift shop? Wanna go check it out?”

“No.”

“Do you—“

“I’m not leaving, Billy.” Max’s eyes glitter in a stubborn glower.

“Oh, but maybe you should, sweetheart,” Susan says softly. “You’re getting restless.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should get out of this stuffy room. Go for a stroll, stretch your legs. I would if I could.”

Pure heartbreak flashes across Max’s face and Billy feels his own lurch.

“Oh dear, bad joke.” Susan frowns and flaps her hand, the tube connecting it to the IV pouch swaying gently in the air. “That was in poor taste, I apologize. But I do think you need to get some fresh air, Max. I’ll be fine.”

Max pauses. Her hands come together and she taps her thumbs together as she mulls it over.

“I’d feel better if you stayed here.” Max shifts her gaze to Billy.

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” he says honestly. Max is obviously wired and getting more antsy by the minute but Billy is the opposite. He’s wiped out after driving for several hours straight and aching from head to toe after scrapping with his dad.

“…alright,” Max relents after a very long moment. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

She gently swipes the back of her hand over her mother’s cheek. Susan blinks contentedly and hums in approval as Max trudges off to the door. She leaves. Susan's gaze flickers to Billy and then down. She frowns at the guardrail of the bed and uncertainly pushes at it with her palm.

“What’re you doing, Sue?”

“I don’t need this. I’m not going to roll out of bed.” She continues pushing at the guardrail but her efforts are weak and uncoordinated. Even if she had more power and precision behind her pushes, Billy’s pretty sure these things aren’t designed to be collapsed from the patient’s position.

“It’s fine, just leave it alone.”

“No,” she refuses, eyes narrowing. “It’s in my way, Billy. It’s separating us.”

Something knocks loose inside his chest. Billy hasn’t seen her in three months. He hadn’t been particularly sure he’d ever see her again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it a go. Here.” He sighs out and messes with the thing and after a couple tries and a few silent shrieks from his very sore shoulders, he finally figures out how to get the damn rail lowered, adjusting it accordingly.

“Thank you so much,” Susan breathes. “Now it's easier to do this.”

She stretches out her slender fingers and rests her hand upon his knee. She gives it a couple dulcet pats. Her pinky pokes inside the fraying tear in the denim, soft pad of her fingertip cool against his skin. Billy swallows, wonders how much he is allowed to touch. She wouldn’t be this affectionate with him if she knew.

“It’s my fault Neil found you and Max,” Billy admits, heart pumping guilt like sludge in his veins. “It’s my fault he almost killed you.”

“What?” Susan stares at with owlish eyes.

“I wanted to send Max a gift in the mail,” Billy explains, speaking slowly and plainly. “I hid it under my bed. My dad saw it when he raided my room looking for some shit he thought I stole from him. That’s how he got your address. I tried to stop him, Susan. But I couldn’t…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Billy.” Susan signs, rubbing her lips together. Her hand travels from his knee to his wrist and she gently pushes up his jacket cuff. Billy doesn’t stop her. He watches her eyes darken at the sight of the bruises.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“You said it was a gift for Max?”

“Yeah…new skateboard.”

“I wish you would’ve just driven over to drop it off. Because if you came over, you would’ve seen how nicely we decorated our little duplex…you could’ve seen my darling little gnomes sipping tea and these delightfully clever novelty magnets Max found for the refrigerator. You could’ve sat on our couch and while it’s a bit worn— we got it secondhand —it’s very comfy. Maybe if you saw how nice everything was and sat in our cushy, comfy couch, you wouldn’t have wanted to leave.”

Billy gapes at her, noncomprehending. He just confessed he’s the reason she almost got killed. That it's his fault his dad literally broke into her home to beat her to death with a wrench. And Susan doesn’t seem angry at all. He knows she's on the good shit, but still. She's not out of it. She heard what he said. Ahd she is frowning but it’s a more fretful expression than anything, dimple between her eyebrows, forehead crinkled in concern.

“I waited for you, Billy.”

Oh.

“We talked about this before you left, Susan,” Billy gently reminds her. “I told you why I chose to stay. Remember?”

“You wanted to protect us,” she murmurs, thumb chary as she rolls it over his bruised wrist. “Me and Max.”

Billy solemnly nods his head.

“Mm…” Susan’s eyes rove the room and then settle back on him as her lips curl into a doleful smile. “How well do you suppose that turned out?”

Billy’s eyes travel along the chest tube to the rectangular drainage unit on the floor, the printed numbers and increments he doesn’t really understand. Glances to her legs elevated on the pillows. The right one was more badly broken. Not badly enough to require surgery, but still too swollen for a hard cast. The swelling in her left went down and Susan got fitted for a cast just a couple hours ago. The dark purple color she picked matches the massive bruise that currently blooms across most of Billy’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He bows again even though it hurts, it hurts, he’s goddamn sore but not as sore as he is sorry. Billy feels the knot tremble in his throat and he is possibly more sorry than he’s ever been anything else in his life. There is a beast in his belly with a thousand guilty eyes and shame in every one of its silent, miserable cries.

“No, no, raise your head. Don’t— it’s not your fault, Billy.” He feels Susan’s hand sweep the fringe from his face in a few quick motions, delicate and deft. “Won’t you look at me?”

Warily, he glances up. Susan’s eyes are misting up as he feels his own stinging again. Shit. Max is going to kill him if he makes her mother cry.

“I am the one who needs to apologize," Susan declares. "For the life of me, I couldn’t convince you to come with us. I failed you.”

“What?” Billy scoffs in disbelief. “No, that’s not on you. I’m stubborn, I’m—“

“I am the adult,” Susan cuts him off, voice sharp even as her hand rests against his cheek lamb gentle. “The real adult, you're barely twenty. You did what you thought was best but I’m older and I knew better, and I couldn’t make you see it. I let you stay, I left you in the lion’s den.”

Billy doesn't really see it that way. He doesn't feel like a child, doesn't want to be treated as one. And he's no longer Neil's legally, albeit he's been nowhere near financially independent. Couldn't work for a long time after that gruesome nightmare turned reality that was the worst fucking Fourth of July ever. Had to fork over all his paychecks to Neil even after he could go back to work— supposedly put toward residual medical bills insurance didn't cover, but hell if Billy truly trusted any excuse Neil could and would hold over his head. In any case, that's not entirely why he stayed with Neil. And staying with Neil wasn't even exactly the same thing as not going with Susan and Max, but abandonment wasn't a factor in the equation at all. He doesn't feel that way, how could Susan think that?

“You left me the address,” Billy pointedly reminds her and he does not let himself crane his face into her touch even though it’s cool and soft and he feels his stomach loosen with this, this featherlight clemency so careful and sweet.

Because of course he knows why he was left the address and it was never so he could mail packages.

“I should’ve grabbed you and dragged you to the car.” Susan doesn’t sound like she’s kidding.

“You could’ve,” Billy breathes and he’s not kidding either. “You’ve seen me get grabbed, Susan. I don’t fight it. Not in the house. Never did…not until he found that address.”

Susan’s thumb brushes away the tear that spills over, unbidden. Billy reaches out and does the same for hers.

“I’m not mad,” he promises in earnest.

“Neither am I. In fact, I’m…” Susan trails off, exhaling heavily as she draws her hand back from his cheek. “I don’t know, Billy. He was going to kill me. Maybe both of us and I could never say that I’m glad that happened because I am not. I am not glad Max had to see and do what she saw and did. I am not glad that at present, I cannot even stand without assistance. But…you’re here. You’re here because of what happened. Because of what happened, Neil…I never have to worry about Neil again. I never, ever have to look over my shoulder worrying about when he will find me because he already did.”

“That’s one way of looking on the bright side, I guess,” Billy mutters, voice hollow.

“Your father has done all the harm he will ever be able to do, to any of us, and now we’re together again. Isn’t there something to be said for that, Billy?”

He swallows thickly, nodding his head as he places his hand on the bed. Susan’s fingers slide over his and that’s how Max finds them when she returns.

“There you are,” Susan welcomes, smiling warmly. “That was a bit longer than fifteen minutes.”

Max freezes. “Did you need me?”

“No, honey, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just happy that you took a good break.”

Max visibly relaxes and shuffles over, lightly squeezing her mother’s upper arm. “I saw Neil.”

Billy exchanges a look of shock with Susan.

“Yeah, he had a new guard today and we talked for a couple minutes. Cool lady with a cool name, like some Greek Goddess name. She gave me a dollar for the vending machine and let me in his room.”

“Are you okay?” Susan frowns, worry crossing her features as her lashes flutter.

“Yeah, Mom. Neil doesn’t scare me anymore.” Max leans in and presses another kiss to the crown of her Susan’s head. Billy’s never seen her more affectionate than this, so doting and tender with her injured mother. “It was actually good. To see Neil like that…to know I did that. It confirms it, I guess? I mean not that I didn’t know, because obviously I know I didn't dream or hallucinate what happened, but…”

“Seeing is believing, perhaps?” Susan tilts her head, mussy red tresses shifting over the pillowcase.

“Yeah, like that. Seeing is believing, I guess. I saw the neck brace and the handcuffs and now I’m…well I’m not gonna turn into a badger every time you want me to take a break.” Max’s mouth quirks, expression sobering when she glances to Billy. “Are you gonna see him?”

“I don’t know,” Billy answers. He keeps thinking about it.

Maybe he’d feel better like Max does. Maybe he’d feel worse. He thinks he’d hate himself if he wound up having some scrap of sympathy. He thinks maybe he’d rip the pillow out from under his father’s head and smother the rest of the life out of him. He thinks he would have the opportunity to say everything he’s ever wanted to say but worries that he would not have the words, worries they may dissolve on his tongue with that stern, steely stare that’s shackled him all his life.

“Not yet,” Billy decides at least.

“You look weird,” Max bluntly blurts, scrunching her nose.

“That’s not nice,” Susan protests in mild reproach.

“It’s not mean,” Max counters, shrugs a shoulder as she looks back to Billy. “You okay? Is it hard being in a hospital again?”

Susan too raises a brow.

Billy reflexively lifts a hand to his chest, curls his jacket in his fist until the button presses uncomfortably into his palm. Few things in his life had been more challenging than his hospital stay and it wasn’t even being in pain or sick or weak, then weaker, then stronger and still in pain— it was sterility. It was being cooped up. It was no privacy whatsoever and never the right noises. It was everything being terrible except Max and Susan even if Max and Susan being around constantly was sometimes terrible but never, ever because they were terrible because they genuinely weren’t and— and now they’re all here again with some of the details rearranged.

Billy realizes that’s the hardest part, maybe, that the details are rearranged. Discovers that maybe it is worse to see someone you care about hurt than hurt yourself. He cannot speak but maybe they know, maybe they can read it in his face because then Susan’s reaching up again, brushing gentle fingertips over his scabbed up knuckles until he relaxes the death grip on the jacket balled into his fist.

“If you decide you want to see Neil, I’ll walk you to the door,” Max offers.

“Thanks,” he manages, terse but sincere.

“And if you want to see him, Mom, I’ll—“

“I don’t,” Susan breaks in, vehement and almost nervous, hand retracting from Billy’s and clasping fast to the opposite above her chest, IV tube swinging again. “I don’t, Max, I really, really don’t.”

“Okay,” Max promises her immediately, gingerly draping an arm around her in a reassuring embrace. The closest to a hug she can manage. “You don’t have to. You never, ever have to see him again, Mom. If you don't want to, you don't have to and that's that. I won't let anyone make you.”

Susan’s eyes dart back and forth as she leans into Max as much as she can, releasing a shaky exhale. Billy’s taken his breaks. They finally got Max to take her break. He thinks maybe Susan needs a break too.

“You wanna see what’s on tv, Sue?” he suggests.

‘No news,’ Max mouths at him above her head. Billy blinks knowingly.

“Sure,” Susan agrees, relaxing and shifting a bit as Max lowers her arm. “Um...maybe the animal channel?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s see what nature is up to.”

#billy hargrove #susan hargrove #max mayfield #neil hargrove #my fic tag

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thisblackwitch · 5 years

Text

One day, I should talk about how I got a thief at an old library job fired.

Today should be that day because it’s been something. Also, I am being a touch petty, please note forewarning. Also, this is stream of thought as well so if I am glossing some details, lemme know because I wanna be clear.

So, I have dealt with discriminatory harassment at my old library job at U Mustn’t B Conscious, a college library (If you knew American college sports news last summer/fall, you know exactly what uni it is, not difficult to pick). This has popped up two new EEOC’s even (now totaling to three EEOC’s I have filed in my life). But that’s a different thing. And one that got a lawyer involved. (This now brings my lawyers count to I think 2 or 3). But the thieving! Let’s talk about that.

So, thanks to having Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), I have a work journal that I need to keep track of things. Well, had, because it got lifted after I left from work. And that was item #3. Two 3D prints I made already were stolen roughly before I was sent to a hospital for my DID.

Told higher ups, they didn’t listen because the EEOC was going on and some of them were named on it so obviously they are not interested in upholding rules, including theft.

So, I went to the uni police. The uni police were better than the library higher ups, they were interested in figuring out the theft. Buuuuuuuuuuut they went “we dunno where to start in terms of subjects”. My stuff got stolen so often, I could literally spot a pattern. (Always on my off days, gone before I come in at 4 PM).

I have a strong background in technology (I worked at NIST, the nerd part of the US government.) so I suggested, “Hey, if I can record this person in the act, would you be okay with it? Like, I want to film this person so you can just book them.” The police were okay with that. So I used my smartphone to create a motion sensor to record only interactions with my items (so I don’t burn battery or storage - that and it’s a library. Who wants to watch 7+ hours of literally nothing?)

Guess what? By the fifth item stolen, I got them on camera. Clear face and everything. If I was eviler/pettier, I’d post the video as well, it’s less than 40 seconds of someone literally blowing their entire career. The kicker? I knew this person for years. I knew them since we were both undergrad in college. They weren’t a stranger, they were someone who I thought was nice and kind for almost a decade. Come to find out, they’re sticky-fingered and because others were picking on me, they thought this was a great way to “fit in”. Yeah, I’ve been bullied since I was a child (part of how I got the DID), that’s a big reason why I got my tech skill to Level: 1984

As soon as I got a notification ping, I reviewed footage and sent straight to the fuzz. The fuzz decided to yink up thief, Kat-Nabber, and question them. Police told Kat-Nabber to not blab to the world because it could muddy the investigation. So Kat-Nabber tells uni HR (who the EEOC is also against). HR has a fit - not over the serial theft, but because I filmed someone commit theft after being dismissed and not believed. I got wrote up for “filming people without permission” as if I was filming Librarians Gone Wild.

Speed up the clock and I went from uni police to the actual police. Actual police directed me to the court house, court house sped me a prosecutor once I showed them the tape. The prosecutor wasted no time slapping charges on Kat-Nabber. U Mustn’t B Conscious may not care about serial theft but turns out the Maryland Judicial System gave some sort of a sh*t. At least when you have very damming proof.

Then Kat-Nabber gave up her job. Like, she quit roughly around the time the charges hit. And I made sure the charges were sent to her work desk. Kat-Nabber leaped over to a new state HR job, a nice paying one.

Lolz. As soon as Kat-Nabber accepted the charges and I got all the proper paperwork that dings her, I used my “Persistent” personality trait, found Kat-Nabber’s supervisor at new job as well as the head of HR at the new job. The supervisor was emailed every thing I had. The dude was astonished I had so much, Kat-Nabber was let go quick. So now, she can’t get hired in state jobs, federal jobs and she went from a clean slate to having a record.

I am posting this partly because A) I want to, Kat-Nabber isn’t the only person I fried B) I noticed my actions are having a ripple effect where some folks who follow me and knows both Kat-Nabber and me and those folks are very up in their feelings because of Kat-Nabber’s White Girl Tears. I get not wanting to believe a bad person is actually bad but Kat-Nabber didn’t get yinked on false stuff, but hard core proof.

#eeoc #mah jawb

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angelinacas · 4 years

Text

So back in the beginning of December I was invited to go see a LIVE taping of The Voice. It was pretty exciting!! I have been to a live taping of a television show before. I have been on set of a movie before. But this was definitely a different experience, because it was the live taping of the performances. It was very different. So here goes…

The email we received with the instructions said that we will NOT be allowed to bring in our cell phones. So we had to leave all of our phones in the car. So the only selfies we took that day were these ones in the car.

And then we took this one when we got to the parking structure.

The call time for check in was 330pm, but we had read online about other people’s experiences and they all said that it would be a good idea to get there around 130pm to start lining up.

We parked in the parking structure and followed the signs to The Voice line. Make sure you don’t pass the elevators otherwise you’ll wandering through CityWalk looking for more signs haha. So we go down the elevator and down into the lower level of the parking structure and get in line. There looked to be about maybe 50-60 people in line already. We thought we were going to be standing for hours and hours, but nope. We were in line for about 20 minutes. A guy came out and gave instructions that phones were not allowed in there so people had a few more minutes to take their phones back to their cars and come back in line. Surprised me how many people DID NOT read the rules on the tickets or in the email.

So a heads up, when you are printing your ticket and parking pass at home, make sure you print the 2 other pages as well and sign them. That way you wont be bombarded at the table with papers and pens and try to crawl over the crowd to get a form or a pen. Be prepared. We already had ours, so we bypassed the chaos bunch and went straight to the next line.

A security person then started down the line checking names, ID’s and taking signed forms. Once checked in they let walk to the metal detectors and a colored bracelet was put on you. We were given silver on this trip. (another trip given purple) They will tell you that the colors dont mean anything… they just mean you will be on a certain trolley. That is a lie. lol.. You will be placed in different groups for seating. The first time we had silver and we learned that was for the people in the pit. The purple wristbands on another trip were for the stadium seats behind the judges… so…

Anywho… we got wristbands and walked through a hallway and then came out to a patio area. There were chairs lined up under a canopy. There were also two food trucks there. You can buy food or something to drink. At the front of the chairs, there were water stations for free water. And on the other side of the chairs there were port-o-pottys. Fun.

I would suggest EAT BEFORE YOU GET THERE. And don’t drink too much if you have a light bladder. lol.

An usher sat us in the chairs… filling up the whole area. That took about an hour to get everyone checked in and sat down. We met and chatted with seat neighbors. The wait wasnt bad because we were sitting down. Which was nice considering we were going to be standing for the next 4 hours…IN HEELS!!

Here’s another tip: wear COMFORTABLE shoes!! It says in the ticket information to dress to impress. But it really DOES NOT matter. It’s so dark in there and the cameras will NOT see your shoes. So if you wanna dress fancy and hip, go for it. But i would totally wear some comfy vans or uggs. Something cushiony.

So… after about an hour, each wristband color was called and we got on the trolleys. we were taken on a trolley down to the studio. It was a fun ride. Then we got in line outside The Voice studio. The famous wall with the hand holding the microphone. We were there.

We waited more in a group than a line outside. Each color was placed in a little group there. We watched as the performers families arrived and got in line. We saw a couple celebrities arrive and even they stood in line. We waited maybe another 15-20 minutes as everyone was arriving. Families and celebrities were escorted in first. Then our silver bracelets were led in. We were the lucky ones to be put in “The Pit”. The Pit is the standing crowd you see on each side of the stage. If you want to be on camera, (its dark… but on camera) go further into the pit and along the stage. Near the speakers. You will be slightly on camera lol. It is really so dark in there when the cameras come on.

BUT… on one shot, my hand was on camera. YAY. hahaha right there, front and center. My hand is the one that looks like I’m touching this girl. lol.. That was pretty much the brightest it was in there. When the camera was at that angle.

We received A LOT of rules and direction from security and the crowd hype guy!! We can NOT boo under any circumstance. We don’t do the sway thing… eventhough, i think 2 songs they told us to sway lol.. We were told to clap and cheer and be loud and enthusiastic. The hype guy said “The crowd the week prior was real quiet and weak. So we need to be loud and energetic tonight.” But I quickly learned he says that every taping. haha

A couple of the security guys were kind rude. Not a smile or anything out of them. Seemed like they are just tired of their job so they could care less what job they are at. lol.. They’re just there. But there were a couple of guys who did actually smile and were personable. That was nice. Considering we were all just super excited to BE THERE. It was cool to feel welcomed by the few that made us feel it.

Carson wasn’t so talkative. He kind of just went in and out. Kelly definitely is EXACTLY as she is on camera. Very talkative and funny. Genuine. I absolutely love her!! Gwen seemed sweet. She said hi a couple times. John didn’t look away from his phone at all that night. But on another night he waved at us. And Blake was watching Monday Night football during one show and was joking and flirting with Gwen another night. Kinda funny.

The show was a live taping. The live semi-final performances. So we got to see all the performances of the last 8 finalists. Then we saw a secret performance that were being recorded for the finale! YES. You heard that right… recorded performances for the finale. Really cool that we were there for that!! We got to see Lady Antebellum perform live!! So awesome. They literally went on stage, Carson introduced them, they sang, we clapped, they were done and they walked off stage. And that was it. lol. That is pretty much how the entire show of performances went on throughout the night.

Introduction, sing, clap, walk off. lol. Nothing else in between. No time to talk to anyone. Just that. It was a rush because it was live. During each commercial break all the judges personal stylists, makeup artists, personal assistants and photographers came to judges chairs. Gwen took so many selfies. Total selfie queen. lol.

Overall, it was a fun day. The taping ended at about 7pm and we were on the freeway home by 730pm. It was an awesome experience. So much fun!!

To recap, my tips:

Eat before you get there.

Get there about 2 hours before call time to get in line.

Make sure you print and sign ALL the forms. (Tickets, parking pass, NDA and Photo Release)

Leave your phone in the car.

Wear COMFORTABLE shoes!!!!

Don’t be shy!!

Have fun!!

If you have any questions, leave them in the comments or email me. If you ever get a chance to go, share your story! I would love to hear your experience!

Blessings in 2020

This is The Voice So back in the beginning of December I was invited to go see a LIVE taping of The Voice.

#nbc #the voice

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 6 years

Text

Catch His Eye for Grins

Plot: You got tickets to the second Ellen appearance for the band. Almost everyone else seemed plastic and fake – only there for their 15 minutes of fame or because they wanted a glimpse of the handsome foreigners. You were the lone person cheering for him but one small voice made him happy.

Rating: PG (Language, negative thoughts, bad mouthing)

Characters: RM x Reader (any gender), mention of other members.

Notes: I’ve read in a few threads and posts that a handful of the pretty audience members, specifically those in front of the cameras, were (supposedly) not lucky fans but wealthy offspring of the elite meant to fill the audience and look good. Also I noticed no one yelled or cheered for RM when his intro was taking place or when it ended – this is my “what if it was different” take. All of this is fictional and speculation!

“I HATE YOU!” Marina yelled. A few deep breaths were taken in the background before she spoke again. “Well, not really Y/N, but I am jealous that you get to see them at a TV show taping, literally be that much closer to them than I was in the GA section at their concert! I know you’re gonna be eyeing Smarty Pants Leader the whole time, but please, just give me a rundown on what Yoongles is wearing and what his voice sounds like in person!”

You bit back a laugh after hearing her last audio response in your KakaoTalk chat. Your eyes drifted back to the print out in your hand, confirming you were guaranteed a seat in the audience for BTS’s second appearance on “Ellen” while they were in the US. Your first BTS encounter after trying and failing to get tickets to their concerts several times.

“Whoa, is that the line for “Ellen” or some Apple release?” the Lyft driver asked as he turned the corner at the intersection.

You looked up and saw a long line queued up a block and a half from the entrance to “Ellen”, all girls from the looks of it. Many were dressed up nicely and others were sporting accessories themed to BTS.

“Yeah...I think it’s “Ellen” – can you drop me here please?” you asked as you pointed to the sidewalk closest to the end of the line.

The driver pulled over and you pulled out a few bills for a tip, thanking him before you exited. You clutched your confirmation in hand and walked to the line, checking with the girl in front of you to make sure you were in the right place.

She looked up from her phone and nodded with a smile, flashing her confirmation at you. With her other hand, she extended it for a handshake.

“I’m Bre,” she introduced herself. “First time I ever got a chance to see BTS.”

“I’m Y/N and same!” you replied, shaking her hand. “I swear I have the worst luck – I’d get up super early –”

“Load all the computers and gadgets up with the ticket sale sites,” she interrupted, “try, try, try and get nothing because others beat us?”

“Right? But we’re here now,” you said. “How long until they load us in?”

She shrugged as she put her phone away, craning her neck to see if she tell what was going on at the front of the line. She frowned when she spotted people she recognized, or so it seemed, and she whipped back around, jabbing her thumb at some girls at the front of the line.

“Wait, weren’t those girls in the front on “Ellen” the last time?”

You blinked as you tried to get a better look at the girls in question. A few people ahead of you, another girl heard your question and nodded with a grim face. She asked her friend to hold her place while she joined you and Bre, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t be heard.

“Those girls aren’t even ARMY,” she revealed. “I heard they’re just rich chicks who got scouted by the studio to stand in front to look pretty. My friend came to their first appearance and overheard one of them say that they didn’t know who these guys were, but they better be cute if they’re pretending to look excited.”

Bre gasped and crossed her arms over her chest. You stared shocked at the other girl, holding your breath for a few moments.

“This is Ellen we’re talking about,” Bre said. “President Obama gave her a medal, she’s always has been embracing normal and imperfect people – are you sure?”

“We’re in Hollywood,” the other girl reminded you. “It’s always about appearances.”

Bre grumbled under her breath and your shoulders sagged when you heard this bit of news. While you weren’t disappointed about scoring the tickets to see the guys in person, it meant that you were probably going to be forced toward the back with the true ARMYs.

“Here, you should stand in front of me,” someone said as she nudged you forward.

“Oh thanks,” you replied, noticing she was taller than you.

“Gotta look out for fellow ARMY – I don’t wanna block you from seeing your faves,” she replied. “Name’s Victoria – who’s your bias?”

“Y/N,” you said. “Mine’s RM. You?”

“I’m a Hobi stan,” she said. “I think you’re the only person I’ve met here who stans RM – everyone else I’ve talked to is either Suga or the maknae line. Maybe a couple of Jin stans, but not a lot of us for the hyung line for some reason.”

Wonder if that was an accident or on purpose, you thought as the crew grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Welcome everyone, may I have your attention please?” one of the crew members called out. He waited for everyone quiet down and he clapped his hands. “Everyone excited?”

The crowd cheered loudly and he nodded with a smile. “Love the energy – need you all to keep that up throughout taping, okay? Smile, wave, cheer – that’s what I want to catch on camera. Now, all of you were assigned in groups and those with a purple wristband, I’m going to need you to join me when one of my crew members grab you. We’re going to film something else for online and you’ll be helping us out with that, okay?”

You looked down at your wrist and sighed when you saw your band wasn’t one of the purple ones. Victoria checked hers and excitedly shook your shoulders.

“Congrats,” you whispered with a smile.

“Whatever it is, I’m gonna tell RM you came for him,” she promised. “My gut’s saying it’s gotta be something for the boys.”

“Only if you get a chance to – thank you,” you said.

The crew spent the next few minutes instructing everyone what was going to happen and pointed to where the cameras were positioned. Once everyone seemed to know what they were doing and where to look, the main guy began counting down, signaling the start of taping.

Ellen came bounding out as the DJ blasted music in the background. You threw your arms up and cheered as she went around high fiving people, cameras panning across the audience. Eventually Ellen took her seat and welcomed everyone, introducing her first guests, BTS.

The rest was a blur as the lights dimmed and cameras panned to the stage where the band was performing. You watched as the audience lit up with lightsticks and silently you wished you brought your own. While V started out the song, your eyes went to the male with dark, slightly spiked hair in the formation. They followed him as he moved across the stage, staying in time with the music and tempo.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the song began to wind down and the boys took their final positions. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Ellen joining them, making the group look up in surprise. Everyone laughed at her actions and cheered as she announced they were going to take a quick break then be right back.

Then the lights were back on and the crew began working to reset the stage with couches for Ellen and BTS to sit on. Some of the girls continued to watch as the boys waited to get acquainted, while others fussed with their appearances. You felt a tap on your shoulder and soon a phone was passed over.

“I’ll text you what the purple wristband thing is all about,” Victoria whispered.

You mouthed a thank you as you typed in your number and passed it back. You unlocked your phone and handed it to her so she could enter her number.

“Okay everyone! We’re back in three, two, one!” the crew guy called out.

Your eyes snapped up to the stage and your voice joined the many cheers as the cameras began rolling again and Ellen welcomed everyone back. She gestured to the sofa where all 7 boys were seated or huddled around, prompting them to reintroduce themselves.

“You all had different hair colors first time,” she reasoned. “Can we get everyone to introduce themselves real quick?”

Your eyes went to the spiky-haired young man who flashed a dimpled smile, raising a hand. “Hey I’m RM, and I’m kind of the spokesperson for BTS,” he greeted.

You yelled out a cheer, trying to ignore the stares you got from the silent women around you. You kept a smile plastered on your face even though you could hear a pounding in your ears. Victoria wasn’t kidding – you were the only RM stan present.

The leader snapped his head in the direction of the cheer trying to find the individual. Meanwhile, the others began to introduce themselves, the audience around you drowning out the band’s voices. Eventually the leader gave up and focused back up front as Ellen began to ask them questions.

“Was it fun?”

“Yeah it was!” you said to your mom as you stepped outside the studio. You checked your watch and decided it would be best to call a Lyft soon. “Hey, I’ll let you go – gonna schedule someone to pick me up and I’ll let you know when I’m home safely.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied.

You ended the call and started to pull up the Lyft app. Then a text popped up, making you pause and switch to your messages.

Victoria

Purple wristbands had to go to the “Friends” set and read a couple of lines. Totally wasn’t expecting the band to jump out from behind the bar and sofa! Sent 3:51 PM

RM was behind the couch when my group went – I made sure to tell him it was you who cheered for him. Sent 3:52 PM

You saw three dots appear and you frowned as you looked closer to see another message come through, this time with a short video clip. You did a double take when you saw RM’s smiling face in the still shot.

Your thumb pressed the play button and the video enlarged before starting.

“Hey Y/N! Thank you so much for the love and support,” RM said as he clasped his hands together. “Really wish I could have met you but Victoria here was so nice to tell me your name and that you were the one cheering during my intro. Thank you so much, I mean it. Hope you enjoyed the taping and maybe I’ll see you at a future concert.” He raised his fingers, forming finger hearts by his cheeks, then he used his arms to form a big heart, hands making the top part of the heart by resting on top of his head.

#BTS RM #BTS RM imagine #BTS RM AU #BTS imagine #BTS AU #BTS Ellen #tw: negative thoughts #tw: bad mouthing #In honor of that speech here's this one shot.#yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2564

82 notes · View notes

gay4eraser · 5 years

Note

For big baby boy Brad! 1-10, because childhood is important, 12,13, 15, 18, 21, 26, 31, 42, and 49!

my braddy boi!!!! thanks bb!!!! a note that Brad is somewhat a co-created character between me and blop at this point

Bnha Brad Boi content under readmore!!!

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Brad Bartholomew Jenkins. His name was literally chosen as a placeholder name and then we just Liked it and he stayed a Brad

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Does Zookeeper count??? In bnha universe he was a zookeeper who was eventually hired on in All Might’s Lost&Found Shelter and Educational Center to take care of exotic animals, since he can communicate with them.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Brad had a very distant childhood. His family was huge and not very well off, and he had to grow up fast to help take care of a lot of siblings and cousins. He does have a lot of good memories though! ...mostly of being the one delegated to taking care of all the family pets, which while kind of bad overall, he considered a huge plus.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Brad knew both parents but they were often tired, overworked, and rarely saw him. They didn’t really understand their son’s quirk and how it worked and so everyone in the family thought his quirk was weird and made him go a bit crazy.

Brad has fond memories of family gatherings, full of people, never being alone. He has fond memories of never EVER being alone because being surrounded by people was just as nice as being surrounded by animals, and he was always with one or the other.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

He has lots of siblings! All of which I have not named in the slightest. Brad is the oldest and he’s always been a loner type simply because people find it weird that he considers animals perfectly acceptable company. He also took a job ASAP to help support his family so his siblings never saw much of him. They all think he’s kind of stuck up.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Brad loves the sciences! He’s pretty good at them too, though he’s very absent minded in school unless it’s a special interest like his animals. His school tried to get him to join sports so many times he doesn��t much care for sports anymore

Have I mentioned he grows up to be 7′2″

In high school he hit 6 feet tall and kept going up from there

He’s also really, really bad at math.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Brad had a ton of friends as a kid! As weird as he is, he makes friends pretty easily. None of them were super close, but that was fine enough for him, he certainly didn’t care lol. He didn’t have time for friends really outside of work but everyone there loves the shit out of him and he has an extremely friendly and open demeanor. A lot of old friends honestly just went to the zoo to say hi to him.

When he moved to Japan a lot of people were really sad to see him go, though he was generally unaware of it

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Brad doesn’t consider them pets he considers them his best friends, thank you

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

His entire quirk revolves around animals, calming animals down, and slowly influencing the intelligence of animals. He Loves Them So Much. He will talk about them or TO them for fucking hours on end and infodumps about them at the slightest opportunity. He’ll destroy you if you try to spread false information about animals.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Ehhhhh Brad’s too.. earnest for most children. He also tends to lose his temper with them easily. Animals need to be treated with kindness and respect and if a child taps on the fucking glass ONE MORE TIME-

He’s nearly lost it towards kids several times and only timely intervention by coworkers has saved his job. Kids can be kind and innocent, and he loves those kinds of kids, but he has No tolerance for shitty kids. Kids who respect him and his animals however, he’s a great babysitter for, as long as the kids are fairly self-sufficient and don’t mind being forgotten in favor of the cockroach exhibit needing to be fed again.

12. What is their favourite food?

Boi loves himself some granola bars, he’ll chow down all day. In general snack and convenience food he loves

13. What is their least favourite food?

He can’t eat anything that resembles the animal it came from. Whole roasted chickens? He’ll cry over

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He can put sandwiches together and basic foods, but he’s not too good on cooking. Mostly just good enough to not starve. Everyone appreciates his efforts

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Get him a documentary and a laptop for fact checking and this boy is set for Hours of entertainment. He also religiously follows animal birthing livestreams and has vines of cute animals doing silly things on a playlist. He also watches terrifying shows like Eaten Alive and will chatter happily about the parasites transferred through eating infected, improperly cooked fish during dinner and make his sigfigs hurl

Also survivalist shows, anything in nature really. He’s not huge on video games because his hands are too big and it makes him a bit clumsy. He’s cried during every sad dog movie that ever existed.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Like mentioned earlier he has No tolerance for stupidity towards his animals, but otherwise he’s very easy going and generally just super chill. It’s hard to get a rise out of him.

When he does get angry he unconsciously squares his huge ass shoulders and tenses up and straightens up alllll the way and that’s usually when his gentle giant aesthetic falls away and people suddenly realize. This guy. Lifts animals bigger than them. Without breaking a sweat. He’s stronk from sheer daily working like a bear.

He’s very, very terrifying when he’s angry but all he’s gonna do is lecture you furiously and physically pick you up and remove you from wherever your offense is. (The worst he’s ever done is physically THROWING Asshat from his zoo)

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Brad chatters excitedly yet peacefully when he’s happy! To people, to animals, to himself, doesn’t matter, he’ll talk out loud to anyone.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Brad doesn’t much drink? He’s into biology, so he’s Very Aware that alcohol is technically just poisoning your body. Also, he’s slightly afraid because when he gets tipsy (the most he’s ever gotten) he gets clumsy and hella uncoordinated, which is dangerous when ur so big. He doesn’t wanna hurt anyone

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Brad’s a simple guy, give him an animal and a job with them and he’s Solid. Doesn’t have any goal other than to keep supporting his family. He sends them checks whenever possible.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Brad’s TERRIBLY sentimental but he doesn’t have the space for all the stuff he wants to have. He also is something of a minimalist otherwise so while he loves the value in items he’s probably not going to keep it. He DOES have a wall covered in Important Pictures printed out and taped on! Most are of animals.

#ask #ask meme #bloopsalot #brad jenkins #bnha oc #bnha #lost&found

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cloudvelundr · 7 years

Text

Reciprocate

Cloud receives a package.

... due to the increased risk we would recommend phasing out the E04 models in favour of reverting to series C, or testing any F- and G-series as with the rate of attacks the E series is quickly falling to an irreparable state. We would tentatively recommend the F2-2 [link: specs] F3.4-2 [link: specs] or the G5-B [link: specs] provided that the units do not emit any byproduct noise in the range of the danger frequencies – testing may be required as this is not noted on any available reports. Likewise, the towers in the Thurmir and Jarfast townships are also affected but the already in service F2-0 will be sufficient as they are in a milder climate zo

“Oh la laa! Someone’s been holding out on us!”

Cloud blinked away from his report to where Sebastian was cackling over one of the oversized reusable crates Shinra sent out most of it’s shipments in. He’d heard him in the hall chatting with the delivery team between the steady sound of boxes thumping down but it’d been easy to ignore: he was on a roll and over the summer shipments came every couple days for as long as they could. The delivery guys had cut through the common area to the kitchen – technically the mess but it really didn’t qualify – a little while ago leaving Sebastian to rummage and start whittling the pile away. The current box had a post office stamp.

“Someone sent a dildo,” he wheezed.

The couriers heads popped back in.

A “what?” filtered faintly though the ceiling followed by a thundering across the room into the kitchen and then Paige was pushing in looking delighted. Andy followed more sedately.

“Did I hear mail order sex toys?”

Snerk. “No- well, maybe. I dunno – just saw it.”

“Well let’s see! Who’s it for?”

“Gimme a sec, gimme a sec! It’s under some shit.”

He dove back in under the amused watch of the gathered. Cardboard slithered and he cursed, and started removing packages: “Henry... Mairi... oh, hey, sir got something heavy... ‘nother for Henry.. Tomeo... hmmm... aaaand here we are!”

He popped up triumphantly, whoever’s prize in hand.

At about a foot long it looked like two boxes taped together, one smallish but wide and another narrow and long like a post on a pedestal, it did look like it could be a dick in a box. Sebastian flipped it around to find the label and read it with raised eyebrows.

“Hey blondie, something you wanna tell us?”

Cloud squinted at the package as Sebastian brought it over, their entirely too happy squadmates looking on. He accepted it bemusedly and checked the sender.

Zack. Of course it was Zack. Except it shouldn’t be.

“... This is too soon for vengeance.”

“Come again now.”

Cloud ignored him in favour of diving for his PHS, blinking almost invisibly in the light of the room. What were the odds, he wondered around the growing bubble in his chest. The top message was in fact from Zack.

It said: why are you like this

Underneath was a picture of Cloud’s birthday gift to him, in heavy shipping paper, wrapped in loving detail with remarkable resemblance to a dildo.

Cloud snorted into his hand. Started to giggle. Slid to the floor laughing.

“You okay down there?”

He waved off the concern and offered his phone to someone’s hand while he pulled himself upright, amusement still bubbling.

Somewhere behind him Paige started snickering.

“I was gonna ask who does that, but apparently you do.”

A quick flick of keys revealed something somewhat lumpy, brightly wrapped in confetti printed birthday paper, sharing the same shape as it’s box so he pulled it out and lay them side by side.

“Alright give me my phone.”

He took a picture and sent it.

you’re one to talk

and that’s not your coffee table

i sent it to your apprtmt why are you opening it on base

The reply was almost immediate.

i may have forwarded my mail

i’m in icicle for two more weeks but mom was sending cookies

And then the phone rang.

“Zack I swear if there’s chocobo underwear in this thing it doesn’t matter where you are I will find a way to hurt you.”

“Dammit I knew I forgot something.”

There was an echoing quality to his voice. Other voices were chuckling a little too loudly in answer.

“... You’re on speaker phone aren’t you?”

“No point pretending the peanut gallery can’t hear us.”

“Point,” he agreed and switched his as well in favour of poking his gift. There was something hard and brickish wrapped in the not-underpants. “Anyone I know?”

“Don’t think so? Guys this is Cloud, sender of suspiciously wrapped objects. His birthday’s the week after mine.”

“You mean his name isn’t Spike? You lied to me Fair. I’m hurt.”

“Ivo?”

“Real deep. Right here.”

“Piss off.”

“Seriously though, is it a dildo?”

“No. No it is not.”

“Because it’s really convincing.”

“... In my defence I was bored.”

“You’re sure?”

“Zack, I’m a craftsman. Fake fake dick isn’t hard to do.” Someone laughed again. “Besides, Aer might kill me.”

“’Cause this wrap job’s a work of art.”

“Just open the damn thing.”

“Hear hear!”

“You too, Spike.”

“Please,” Andy leaned on the couch, a smirk colouring her words, “show us what wonders the sad penis holds.”

“Fine, fine – happy birthday, dork.”

“You too, nerd.” Paper ripped. “... of course you wrapped it in puppies and cupcakes. Why did I think you wouldn’t.”

“I have a giant roll of that stuff,” It was a rather lovely pastel blue too. Cloud hefted his gift and considered where to start, “I’ll using it for years.”

Cloud heard Zack sigh before another heavy rip and rustle came over the speaker, and decided to open the shaft before the heavy thing could escape on it’s own – already he could see holes where the corners were trying to work their way free. When he ripped in it tried to anyway, nearly slipping free in an explosion of obnoxious sport socks.

The audience pouted.

“Aw, no dildo.”

“Nice whetstone though.”

“Did you have to pick the most eye peeling socks you could find?”

“Duh. Did you have to use duct tape?”

“Well how else was I supposed to attach the banana to the egg thing?”

“He’s got you there, Fair.”

“Why would anyone even need a two egg travel case.”

“Lunch? Hard boiled is a thing.”

“You could put the cream egg things you like in them.”

“Point.”

Click.

“Score! Banana has candy!” A patter of little thumps.

“Of course you immediately dump them.”

“Mmm. Where did you get the fruit things?” Zack asked, clacking one against his teeth, “I can never find them.”

“Places.”

“That’s helpful.”

“I aim to serve,” he replied, plucking at the remaining wrapping.

“Pff. Liar.”

The paper gave way to another pair of socks – the thickest, fluffiest he’d ever seen, and probably the first he’d wear out come winter – which were bundled around a small, flat plastic case. The clasp was stiff but snapped open to reveal game data cards.

“Awesome,” Cloud grinned. The new Tales of Zelig was first up. “I know what I’ll be doing all winter. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome! Two of them were already yours though – I grabbed them when I put the cases with your stuff.”

“Thanks, I didn’t realize I’d forgotten them.”

“No prob.”

“Now finish yours.”

“Yeah, crack open your balls, Fair.”

“That sounds wrong,” Paige muttered. Cloud thought he might’ve flinched.

Sebastian sniggered. “Psssh. It’s hilarious and your know it.”

There was a popping noise and a pause.

“Dude.”

“Cloud, are these what I think?”

“Are they spawns of the materia you keep threatening to steal? Yeah. Yeah they are.”

“You meme loving fuck, I am going to lord this over Genesis forever.”

“Does the commander not have them?”

“No, they’re super rare. Like how you even have them I don’t know.”

Cloud sat back, pensive. “Really? ‘Cause I literally just... found them.”

“Because your luck is stupid. Man, I have only ever even heard of like three Knights, and yours is one. There was a Turk sharpshooter who had one but it went missing when he did.”

“And the last one?” asked one of the couriers.

“There’s supposed to be a green mage on one of the Goblin Islands. Don’t know who it is but even Genesis won’t touch them. But you just found it on a scree. And the water-healing thing- you said you woke up on the way to Midgar and saw it in the bushes but it doesn’t even have a name.”

“Huh.”

“So yeah, it’ll piss Gen off so much. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re nuts.”

“He’s not like the rumours – the Firaga Incident didn’t actually happen.”

Paige and the delivery guys looked dubious.

“Yeah, I haven’t met him but his men are stupid loyal. You don’t get that by being the crazy who lights your people on fire.”

“These materia probably wouldn’t cooperate with him though. He’s more dark red and these are definitely white and light. He’ll still be jealous as Hel.”

“Now you just have to keep Treasure Princess away.”

There was a pause.

“Treasure Princess, Fair?”

“... Shit. She will won’t she.”

Cloud started laughing quietly into his hand.

“You had ulterior motives, didn’t you?”

“No- I forgot about her until just now. She only really bothers you. But you’ve got to admit it’s funny.”

“I guess.”

“Oh stop pouting.”

“I am not p-”

“He totally is.”

“Traitor.”

“Well,” Andy stood and stretched, “thank you boys for the entertainment, but some of us need to get back to preparing for patrol.”

There was a sudden cursing from the phone: “Shit, us too.”

“Come on Paige. Happy birthday Fair.”

“And Cloud, gift wrapping champion. You guys deserve each other.” The other voices echoed.

“Thanks peanut gallery.” Cloud replied to fading sounds of their movements and switched the PHS back to his ear as his squad wandered back to wherever they had been. The couriers had vanished. He could hear the sound of candy wrappers shuffling as Zack gathered the treats from wherever he’d dumped them. “You too?”

“Yeah. They’re my team – there’s marlboro breeding grounds sprung up nearby.”

“Ew.”

“No kidding.”

“Still, good birthday?”

“It was alright. Quiet. One of the guys bought a cake – it was actually fantastic. But... I’d rather been home.”

“Hmm,” Cloud agreed, arranging his own things on his computer to move. The report could wait a bit. “Same. I think Adam is threatening to bake something, but.”

“Yeah.”

“Still, not a bad place to spend it.”

“And not bad company either.”

“No – the looks I got for that package though.”

Snerk. “It’s the baby-face,” Zack said. “They forgot you’re twenty and a little shit.”

“No, they know that,” Cloud replied, sliding past Sebastian and into the hall.

Sebastian looked up and grinned, “Yeah, it’s ‘oh god our next captain is the kind of guy who sends dildo shaped presents.’”

“Yeah. That.”

“But he also warks back at chocobos, calls anything vaguely canine a puppy, was probably responsible for the glitter ATVs, and is generally a massive nerd, so I don’t know why we’re surprised.”

Zack was laughing again.

Cloud groaned and kept going. “You both suck.”

“Heh. Anyway, I really gotta go now. I’ll try to call you again soon.”

“Alright, say hi to Aerith for me?”

“Will do! And I’ll find you those chocobo boxers!”

“Zackary Fair, Don’t You Fucking Da-” Cloud cut off at the dial tone: “And he’s gone. Jerk,” he murmured fondly and with a shake of his head made his way to his room.

Stuffing the socks in a drawer and the stone with his maintenance supplies, Cloud settled into his desk and flipped his computer back open. And paused. And closed it again.

He reached for the little case, and flicked through it’s contents. It was mid August, still summer most places but there cooling soon and much work blowing in on the wind. It could well be winter before he got another truly quiet hour.

“Try’n’a spoil me,” he murmured, and slotted one into his console instead.

The report could wait.

#velundr writes #cloud strife #zack fair #ffvii #implied zerith #cloud's birthday week 2k17 #zack doesn't have a birthday so i'm lending him one of cloud's #this actually ties into something else i've written #and will probably redo because i still love the idea #but the parts i finished make me cringe now

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livialim · 7 years

Text

２０１７年０８月２０日

This first day has been impressive. My arrival was smooth and I didn’t have to try too hard to get everything right.

It’s 4.45 am. I love how this hostel with its immaculate location has thought things out. This hostel understands chill, and that people need privacy after a tad of shopping and also that people may want to freely observe other people on a balcony beside a jacuzzi sprawled in front of crawling trains. Nice. My MaMa noodles are ready and I am guzzling coconut water. Bangkok, you make a convincing point.

The shopping malls agree with me too, and this post notes that I’m looking out for preferably local brands, the quality of materials and finish to be above high-street and below high-end (high time we have a term to describe this) at price points which belie their quality because at this quarter-life moment, pennies be pinched, and finally, designs which make me scream quietly in delight.

My belly is now warm. Let’s get it on to Terminal 21 Shopping Mall, a layered treasure box at Asoke BTS station.

It claims to be a World Market Street, which is literally how it decked out its levels. On each floor you are treated to mock street views of major cities: glowing paper lanterns lined along high ceilings guide you on Tokyo, as compared to light wrapped in coloured glass on Istanbul while on San Francisco, epoxy floors bear metal train grids and even a restaurant with outdoor seating in a tram. The washrooms are not spared too; on Rome, you wash your hands around a Baroque fountain.

This is not to say that each floor carries labels from their namesake, rather, labels sometimes fit the floor theme. In general, however, this is still a mall which obeys marketing rules with global brands on the first and second floors, and scattered above and below are shops clustered and winding.

The first shop to catch my fancy is Lyn Around. I’m a huge fan of brands which spare their aesthetic no mercy and this label is just the most delicious. Their Autumn collection is pretty much girly rockabilly in velvet and leather pieces, broken down with Japonaiserie elements like kimono patterns and cranes, embroidery reminiscent of scribbles, pearls, slivers of costume diamantes, frills which highlight youth at the wrists or waxy inner thighs. In accounting for wearability in Singapore, I scouted out a v-neck silvery velvet shift dress with gathers at the top of the knee and small floral embroidery at various spots of the dress, topped with a mandarin collar and sleeves in crisp white poplin with a fluted cuff finishing at the wrists. The prices range around 3,000 Baht (SGD 120) and onwards for blouses, short bottoms, dresses.

Of course, the clothes are lovely to look at but pairing them with my existing wardrobe will still require some effort. The solution to boring real-life outfits is to go to town with accessories and leather goods. There was a particularly delectable long wallet in leather, with a red base and white piping and embroidered sakura and a black heart in the middle. It is going for around 2,000 Thai Baht (SGD 80) and it is not my possession yet because hey this is my first mall and I have four more days to go.

Flats are another item I look out for because I go through them so quickly. AllbyOr makes ballet flats and yeah they look Repetto-inspired, going at 980 Baht (SGD 40). Comfortable, classic, necessary and I want them in every colour. I didn’t check if the upper is leather because it’s not something which I look out for. Shoes get scraped and I don’t wanna get hurt.

I got the pair in snakeskin and the sweetest sales assistant meticulously tied the ribbons for me as I wanted to walk in them for the rest of the way back to gauge comfort and fit. I am considering a second pair.

Love Supreme was another great find. They do such buttery leather bags and small goods in quite a few styles for both women and men, and the other customer and I were feverishly feeling up all the items in the store and trying them out for size with our cards and cash notes. I think she got a Callie Long Wallet.

I got the Double Zip Wallet in this Khaki Grey for 980 Baht (SGD 40) which has gold hardware and the store assistant informed me that it is part of the old collection, so the items you see on their website will all feature silver hardware as part of the new collection. The burgundy (new collection, silver hardware) and dark brown (old, gold) were honestly tough to pass up.

A couple of stores which were also worth a peek:

Something Boudoir is Disney-whimsy and the prints are pretty delectable. Sale prices are just lovely to the eye but none of what I fancied was available in my size. Regular prices: Around 2,500 Baht (SGD 100) onwards.

Wila does clothing inspired by European icons. In their current collection, they look to the Roman Empire and many of their items have a girly flourish of lace tapes and prints of cherubs. I quite liked a top they had. Regular prices: Around 4,000 Baht (SGD 160) onwards.

Pranky Play bags found at the Nicha store. Cotton-candy pink, slogans, mint, sequins, lilac, flamingoes, palm-trees-and-the-sky blue, seashells, glittery and prank-y. The other side of the bag is made from glittery rose gold polyester. So who’s gonna go to the beach with me and eat sushi and go su goiiiii? Regular prices: 590 Baht (SGD 160)

Ricochet BKK does linen sets of cropped tops and easy airy bottoms and I was very taken by one set which had fabric loop buttons done very well but sadly when I went back to take a photo, the sales assistant was out for a break. Regular prices: Around 2,500 Baht (SGD 100) for tops.

V Eyewear’s picture is missing because in the first photo I don’t think the customers who appeared in the photo looked good... and in the second photo I don’t think I looked good either haha. Anyway I tried on the Crescent in the Butterfly Pea colour because it was a cute boxy cat-eye shape. The acetate material was just hefty enough to feel solid on the hands but didn’t weigh my nose down and the metal frame inside held the pair together convincingly. Well go try them out cos what do I know, I don’t wear glasses.

I spent about 3 hours in total striding around, getting a quick bite at the basement, hemming and hawing about the things I purchased, and getting a little lost, and then back at the hostel I chilled by a book, a beer and a balcony.

#Terminal21 #Bangkok #Shopping

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pet-diary · 7 years

Text

I hate it when someone you like is a jerk on the internet and the you have to question whether or not you wanna follow them anymore. :S Just spent the last couple of hours watching gossip videos about this YouTuber I like(d?) bc she’s apparently harassing people over stealing her content (when she posts DIYs and people are literally just doing her tutorial, lol). I don’t usually like gossip channels but sometimes they’re too interesting to resist watching... Honestly what I will say to people worried about others copying your work: Educate yourself on copyright laws. As an artist I know it can feel scary to think of someone looking at your stuff and ~*STEALING*~ it, but honestly... Some fan printing off your drawing and taping it to their wall is not what you need to worry about, and if you chew those people out you’re only going to hurt your fan and yourself. What you DO need to worry about is companies like Urban Outfitters, who notoriously steals designs without crediting/paying the original creator, and then mass manufactures products using that design making a giant profit without the creator’s consent/knowledge/benefit. You can sue them for that, by the way. I mean there are obviously other nuances that can happen in copyright, and I’ve dealt with some of those situations myself so I can attest to the anxiety an artist feels about the dreaded ~*BEING COPIED*~ (luckily I’ve never had any really bad situation, just some annoying misunderstandings w/ people that were easily cleared up with a mature conversation). But honestly you are 99% covered if you just use Creative Commons and read up a little on copyright law...

Also on the same topic, a word to artists: There is nothing more unappealing than someone who treats their fans friends and supporters badly because they’re too caught up in their own fame and self-importance. You will almost always do better to be decent towards people and be patient with frustrating situations. Oftentimes, things like that are just grown from misunderstandings (like the girl “copying” her DIY graphic)...

To simplify this concept. It’s sorta like when you think someone is really beautiful, just drop-dead gorgeous, but then they act like a complete jerk and from then on you can’t see what you saw in them before, and all the qualities you once loved about them seem just VILE. But all the people you know who are good decent people are sooo beautiful in your eyes. Even if they have qualities that are considered “unattractive”, you don’t even see it, or those qualities now some beautiful to you because it’s apart of them. Isn’t that funny how the mind works like that?

Do your best to be nice to people! :) It’s not always easy but it’s a choice we have the ability to make and it usually benefits you and other people. If you’re frustrated with your fans, just take a break from them for fucks sake, bite your tongue, think before you speak, get a friend to help you for a while so you’re not so overwhelmed! I wish I had done known all this back when I was having my “hay day” in photography. There were a lot of periods when I got really annoyed and suspicious of everyone even if they weren’t doing anything rude to me, simply because I’d had a few bad experiences. Thinking back I wish I had calmed down and seen the bad experiences as isolated situations instead of tacking that onto everyone else I came across because I think I missed a lot of great opportunities and friendships by being like that. It’s unappealing and puts people off, and it doesn’t even really protect you that much.

Idk. Rant over. I know things aren’t always so simple as all this but I guess this just sorta struck me as a learning moment and I felt like talking about it, hahha.

#rant #personal #written #negative

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dothewrite · 7 years

Note

oh god i loved that platonic relationship scenario you did so much itwas so cuteee. do you think you could do a similar one but with terushima and akaashi? it doesn't have to be about a boy but just similar to the original scenario in the sense that the girl is emotionally down and feeling quite insecure about herself whether it's like her body or whatever ?

This might be a bit (read: lots) different from the original style- can you tell I’m losing my marbles. I just needed to let loose a little in this one. Still, I’m sorry this is super late, but thanks for enjoying my original scenario. :) This is the ‘or whatever’ part of your request, but I hope you find it helpful in some way.

The original post here.

It’s animpossible habit to break when you’ve been paraded in front of various forms ofyourself since you can remember. Your mother and relatives had always actedlike the mirror was something you should be happy about- look at how adorable she is!- and would make you twirl in half-step circles,like a concubine in front of her jailers. They’d talk cheerily at each other,making cooing sounds that should have been for girls at least half your age,and you’d pull at the pigtails that pinched at your scalp in an awkward act ofself-consciousness.

The feeling doesn’t last.

The tricky thing about mirrors is that theyonly reflect, and each mirror is different, and so are your days. The one thingthat never, ever changes, no matter how much you plead, pray, or attemptthrough your paltry meals is you. The person in them.

It’s a solitary stand against yourself eachmorning, when you’re past your childhood and nobody parades you around anymore.Nobody takes you by the shoulders and pinches your cheeks to tell you you’recute. Men tell you you’re beautiful and hot all the time, usually in poorgrammar and after that comes wolf whistles, or unsolicited dick pics, and youhave to think: really? In Japantoo? This day and age?

You don’t take advice from the transferstudents anymore, and the rush of relief when you press the cross icon todelete the dating app on your phone is the best you’ve felt about yourself inseveral days. You take extra care not to accidentally face the mirror, just incase your mood gets ruined.

But they’re everywhere, and youcan’t run. You’ve gotten used to it by now, and some days when you think you’vematched an outfit particularly skillfully, you even sneak a peek at a passingwindow, or the strange, twisted reflection in the elevator doors. Most days,you can convince yourself to think: hey,maybe I don’t look so bad, andkeep walking.

People, however, enjoy spending their timetelling you otherwise. Whether they mean it, or they don’t, you can always seethe pleasure on their faces as they run their hands down their shirts as theymention that you’re not looking as shabby as usual that day, or that shirtdoesn’t make you look as odd as usual. The doctor asks you for your BMI whenyou get your scheduled check in, and you don’t need the numbers on a sheet ofpaper. When Terushima asks you how it went, you tell him that you werelucky that you didn’t get a doctor who’d leer at you.

Truth be told, there’s nothing worth lookingat, yet Terushima nods, looking satisfied.

“I know you wanted a new jacket,” he says outof the blue, “wanna go get one?”

“Right now?” You ask, confused. He’s right,you’d said that, but today is- today is not such a good day. Terushima’swatching every emotion flash across your face with a practiced focus, but hesimply takes your hand and pulls you closer.

“Yeah. Let’s go. Leather, right?”

“I- yeah, a leather one would be nice.”

He grins, and a corner of a sharp canine pokesout from under his upper lip. “Good. I know exactly where to go.”

His motorcycle fits his character like a glove,and although you’re wearing decidedly not cool looking clothes, the confidentglance he shoots you before he revs up lets you believe for a second thatyou’re right where you should be. Your arms squeeze his waist, as usual, anyless would be dangerous for this breakneck speed, and you don’t mention a wordabout how his jacket is tailored. It’ll probably cost you an arm- and it does, whenthe very proper looking man takes your measurements for a slightly impropergarment- but there’s yet to be a moment where Terushima’s stopped touching you.The soft imprints of his fingers chase away whatever fastidiousness youmight’ve had at the little numbers of the worn measuring tape, and the ticklesof touch keep you on your toes- glancing here and there, and Terushima dancesaround you like a ghost, ready to haunt your fears better than they haunt you.

If you’d been asked what the attendant lookedlike, you would be hard pressed for an answer that isn’t a guess. Blonde hair-that’s Terushima’s, long fingers? That’s also Terushima’s. A warm smile, andwithout a doubt you know that’s Terushima’s. You’re left alone by the sofas fora rare moment, and you dare to flutter your eyes shut for a second and imaginea world without shape; you’re nothing, you’ve no boundaries except for whereTerushima’s mapping them with his fingers. A hand on your shoulder, around yourarm, over your shoulders, against the small of your back- he’s there right now,a chin resting on your head and he reaches out to stop you from pulling yourwallet out when you’re welcomed back to reality with a smart, handwrittenreceipt.

It almost throws him off you when you tiltbackwards to stare at him in surprise.

He cuts in before you can- “I’m doing this,” heinsists, pushing your knuckles back into your pocket. “I’m taller and strongerthan you, I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

“I’m not going to fightyou,” you say exasperatedly, “but Shuuji, you can’t be ridiculous about this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see theattendant quietly slide out of view. Then Terushima’s back, filling up yourvision and seeking out your eyes with a worrying fervour. “This isn’t beingridiculous, okay? I got this, and it’s for you.”

“It… it’s a lot.” You start to feel a littledizzy just from thinking about the numbers. “You should save up your money, foryou stuff.”

“Like what, retirement at thirty? C’mon.” Hepushes himself into your space and smiles his crooked smile at you with thosewicked teeth. “I just want to get you something. It’s time I reminded you thatI’m here for you, even if you don’t wanna talk about it or you forget sometimeswhen you spend too much time in your head. Yeah?”

A lot of answers try their lot in your mind.You know perfectly well what he’s trying to do, and even if you didn’t, youcan’t deny warmth that’s streaming so solidly through your body as if theelixir of life. There’s a small possibility that it’s a spur of the momentdecision, a result of a poor day, but never in your life have you seen yourfriend, or any man for that matter, seem so sure about anything before.Although Terushima’s never been one for regret, this is something different.

This is inevitability. As if a mere mortal likeyourself could push aside the goodwill of something with the brightness of eightand a half suns. You pull out both your hands in surrender and frown at himwith a frown you don’t mean at all.

“Fine, you win. But don’t think this is thelast you’ll hear about this.”

“Alright, alright.” Like sorcery, theshopkeeper’s back at his station and Terushima’s holding out a card you mostcertainly didn’t catch him take out. The sound of the receipt getting printedmasks his reach for your hand with his, and you watch enthusiastically asTerushima attempts to replicate his signature with his left hand.

He looks like an idiot, that much you can tellfrom the owner’s expression, and you daresay that your linked hands look kindadumb too. Terushima walks out the shop looking like he’s just won a war, andyou’re probably smiling like a lunatic, and the two of you most likely looklike idiots to everyone else.

That’s okay. Terushima doesn’t lead you back tohis bike, but keeps on walking. He doesn’t even turn to look or ask if you’reokay with what he’s just done, simply: “feel like frozen yogurt?”

“Always,” you tell him, in the middle ofNovember. Terushima grins, the tilt in his head betraying the fact that heknows exactly what you’re thinking, but says nothing.

There isn’t a single step where he isn’t stuckto you, apologizing wordlessly for getting a frozen dessert on a chilly day.Yet, pressed up against you, you can’t possibly catch a glimpse at your ownreflection with him blocking the way of endless window panes, and all you endup seeing is how silly the two of you appear- his huge frame and most of youobstructed by it. He swings around so you’re facing the open street instead,and cars are too fast to catch yourself in.

You’re okay with that, and so is he.

Now that you’re, well, older, you’d think thatyou’d be able to, if not everything, control some things in yourlife. Like your daily routine, for example, or how long you use your phone forat night, or whether or not you’re finally going to send that email that you’vebeen avoiding for weeks now. Okay, those are slightly more important things.But matters like whether or not you have a good enough facebook profile pic, orwhether you should cave in and get a snapchat account- surely,peer pressure’s kinda hard when it’s literally just you in a studio apartment,right?

That’s what makes the taste in your mouth thatextra side of bitter, like you vomited in your mouth three days ago and hadn’tdeigned to brush your teeth. You don’t even have an instagram, sowhy the fuck are you on it?

Plus, honestly right now, you can’t give lessof a shit how you got onto this hell-site, because that’s not important. Yourprofile picture isn’t important. Validating yourself in the eyes of your peergroup has never been very important- as least, you try to keep it that way.

It’s hard, sometimes. When it’s three in themorning and you’re alone with blankets just slightly too thick and you’reeither sweating or freezing, and when the only light that’s emitting is fromthe stupid photo app on your phone and the huge, pale green shadow you makeagainst your modern, unpainted walls. Paradise from someone else’s camera andsomeone else’s ocean villa is less enchanting than it’s instagram filter.Scroll down two or three, and you see your friends looking ravishing in theirgraduate gowns, their postgraduate diplomas fluttering in the gentleCalifornian breeze, or perhaps, if that’s not pleasing enough, there’s alwaysthe lovely ‘first day of work’ photos in swanky high rises. One look at their pencilskirts and heels and you can almost hear the sound of stilettos cracklingagainst polished marble in the late evenings.

Oho. Success has a sound, alright. It soundslike that stupid voice in your head telling you to look while you can, becauseyou aren’t going to see the Bahamas in a bikini (so small it makes you looklike a whale, by the way) any fucking time soon.

Blip. Wearily,like you’ve looked away in the first place, you sort of, fold into your phonelike someone does a meringue and click on the notification.

You’re still up. [Akaashi Keiji03:32]

Yeah, well, so is he. What a night owl. ‘Owl’,heh.

You’ve recently cut your nails, so no matterhow hard you tap your unrealistic, online keyboard, it makes next to no sound.Stripped even of your figurative, finger stiletto heels, and you watch as thepads of your fingers make soft, squishy noises against the oiled glass.

I’m going to call you. You have read receiptsturned on, by the way. [Akaashi Keiji 03:35]

Exiting your text messages altogether, you giveup on your half-assed reply and wonder why you even bothered in the firstplace. Plus, even with the pretty well stated warning that you’re about to geta phone call, you still flinch into your pillow pile when your phone screamsbloody murder, too loud for the empty room and your thoughts.

“Hey,” you say into the receiver. Veryoriginal, much eloquent.

Akaashi, of course, doesn’t beat around thebush.

“Three AM is not so good a time to be lookingat pictures of the beach.”

“It’s not just anybeach.”

“Sorry,” Keiji says, sounding possibly theleast sorry he’s ever been in his twenty plus years of existence, “is it theBahamas or Koh Samui?”

“Maldives. I think it’s one of those ‘I workedhard!’ getaways. Doesn’t seem like a honeymoon, to be honest.”

“Too many pink drinks, too few rose petals. Youcan always tell.”

You pull a pillow out from under your mountainand shove it underneath your knees. Time to sit back, relax, and enjoy the shitshow that is your life on the phone, and one can’t do that without proper backsupport. Maybe you’d start saving for a memory foam mattress instead of thischeap IKEA shit. Oh right, the catch being that if you probably don’t haveenough money for a vacation, you probably don’t have the money for a SealyPosturpedic. Who the fuck needs income, anyway.

“You’re taking too long to think.” Keiji knows.Keiji always knows. He should start a business, only that youcan’t pay the bills. “Where did you go off to?”

The odd thing is, it’s never occurred to youthat not talking to Akaashi at odd bits of the night is a way to live. It’snever occurred to you that the two of you would be anything else, either.

“How inept I am. At pretty much everything.”

“Oh,” he half sighs, half says, “you’re more thandiplomas, more than jobs. You know that.”

“Yeah, I’ve promised you that I’ll do my best,and I have, but there’s gotta be a cutoff point, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m not a special snowflake. I’mnot some untapped talent that I’ve never bothered to exploit- I’m just what Iam.”

“You believe that where you’re at right now isthe best you can do.”

“I-” your sentence starts to unravel right whenyou’re about to say it, and you unleash a torrid wail into your cushions whereit’ll never see the light of day. Akaashi stays silent on the other end andwaits patiently for you. “Yeah. Like, even if I worked my fucking ass off, I’dnever finish two degrees at Oxford in five years. I can’t beat genius!”

“And sometimes it’s not just academia, right?Sometimes it’s anything you choose to do.”

Keiji alwaysknows.

“So what’s the point?”

“I don’t know,” you say miserably. “I can’teven look away from the stupid instagram photos because I’m a masochist,apparently.”

“I can’t say that I’m the expert at any ofthis,” Keiji answers you quietly, “but we talked about this before, and do youremember what we came up with? That there’s more to life than being the best?There’s more to life than being better, you can be okay with just being happy. And thatisn’t failing to live.”

“So, being okay with mediocrity.”

Akaashi huffs a laugh out, turning into staticwhen it reaches you. “Don’t twist my words, moron. You know exactly what Imean.”

Akaashi’s always been different. The one andonly different in your life, where all you can see are rivalries, and he’s justtranscended that. He’s parallel, on his own path, at his own speed, andalthough this guy is somehow first in his goddamn medical internship, there’snot a speck in you that can possibly revolt. Akaashi isn’t the type to postpictures of his certificates on instagram. He’s the type to go home at 1am,after an eighteen hour workday and call you at three in the morning because youneed to be called, and manage to say exactly the things you need to hear.

These people shouldn’t exist, seriously. Andeven if they did- and they do- you don’t deserve them. Not your miserable, dulllittle ass moping around in bedsheets you can’t really afford, thinking youhave it so bad.

“We agreed it wouldn’t be easy,” Keiji’s voicegently shakes you out from your quicksand, “so I’m reminding you. Everyone’sgot their limits, but after knowing you for so long, I think this isn’t yourlimit. This isn’t all you can do. You have to remember that.”

“Is this a professional diagnosis?”

“Yeah,” he’s giggling (chuckling? You likegiggling more) and it makes you giggle too, “as a bullshit specialist. I’mmaking you laugh now, so I’m doing alright.”

“Well,” you say as you finally start to leanback and stare at the ceiling, “I was sitting here being super mopey andmiserable earlier. So miserable that I couldn’t even cry. An actual pile ofshit.”

“It’s part of the medication. You get to bemiserable, and each time you’re a pile of shit, you get closer to being better.”

“Be my family doctor, Keiji.”

He’s laughing too hard to sound tired now, butyou’ve been counting the minutes in your head this whole time, and he’s givingyou all these happy, tingly feelings so you’re gonna pay him back. A bit of it,at least.

“It’s almost four,” you tell him, “you shouldgo to sleep.”

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” you grin wanly even though he can’t seeyou, “I’ll sleep and you sleep. Deal?”

“Deal,” and the exhaustion leaks back into him.You made a good call. “Goodnight, and get off that damn site.”

Akaashi doesn’t wait for your goodnight (henever does, because it’s always a chain that lasts another half hour), andhangs up. You let the phone fall loosely from your hands that misses your facenarrowly, and close your eyes.

Too tired for misery,and too tired for instagram, you say fuck it to charging your phone and beginto count your sheep.

#terushima yuuji #akaashi keiji #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #sfw #female original character #i writes the haikyuu #pardon my french

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deadgwen · 7 years

Text

IT IS A HAPPY 17TH BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST GOAT

@fucshias @jiilys MY LOVE GOATY. MY MOST BEAUTIFUL GOAT. MY SUN. MY STARS. MY BEAUTIFUL HOOVED CREATURE OF GOD. I HAVE ARRIVED TO SAY SOME IMPORTANT THINGS BUT FIRSTLY I LOVE YOU I LOVE I LOVE YOU U R READING THIS POST RIGHT NOW DUE TO A VERY IMPORTANT REASON AND THIS IMPORTANT REASON IS THAT

*CHOKES BACK TEARS*

IT IS UR BIRTHDAY.

*SCREAMING*

OK OKI DOKI BEFORE I START: I AM NOT ACTUALLY HERE BUT DO NOT BE D I S E N H E AR T E N E D BC I JUST DONT HAVE WIFI BUT I PROMISE U SOMEWHERE OUT THERE I AM SULKING AND FIGHTING A WALL AND ALSO SETTING OFF FIREWORKS BC !!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS UR FUCKING DAY AND IM SORRY I COULD NOT WISH U BUT I LOVE U SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH I AM HERE W/ U IN SPIRIT

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT TURN THE FUCK UP HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO U UR EXCELLENT AND I LOVE YOU AND ALSO WHAT THE FUCK BINCH HOW ARE U SEVENTEEN TODAY U ASSHOLE (COPYRIGHT U KNOW WHO) WHO ALLOWED U TO BE LIKE THIS AND ALSO I LOVE YOU. AND ALSO I CANT BELIEVE UVE DONE THIS. UR LITERALLY SEVENTEEN TODAY I AM NOT ALRIGHT AND I NEED U TO HOLD ME BECAUSE I AM GOING TO COME OVER AND FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF BEING A DRAMATIC BITCH I WILL FAINT IN UR ARMS I AM 100% NOT ALRIGHT

like,,,, HONESTLY u are so. fucking. great. WHERE DO I EVEN START.

FIRST AND FOREMOST I WANNA SAY I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED FOR THIS FOR UR BDAY I LOVE YOU GOATY I AM SO PUMPED THAT UR SO OLD ITS RIDICULOUS @ ME FUCK OFF ALRIGHT BUT. JUST. I LOVE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY U GOAT UR BEYOND INCREDIBLE

UR OFFICIALLY A DANCING QUEEN UR YOUNG AND SWEET. ONLY. *SMASHES OPEN MY WINDOW AT 12 MIDNIGHT* SEVENTEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

SO OH MY GOD. I AM CURRENTLY YELLING BECAUSE??????????? LIKE???????????????? YOU'RE SEVENTEEN??????? HOW DID WE EVEN COME TO THIS POINT ITS INSANE LIKE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU SEVENTEEN WE'RE ALL JUST STILL TINY SMOLS WHERE ARE U GOING WHY ARE U GROWING OLDER STOP IT PLS ALRITE I DO NOT LIKE. MY PRECIOUS GOAT SUNSHINE WHO IS A PROFESSIONAL PAJAMA CONSULTANT A REAL SOLID BUSINESSWOMAN WHO DRIVES AND SHIT AND COULD PROBABLY RUN ME OVER AND IS 6'3 SO IF U WOULD SIT ON ME I WOULD MOST CERTAINLY DIE UR OFFICIALLY A DANCING QUEEN AND I AM CRYING

but in all seriousness I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU i am FOREVER AND EVER glad that i met u LIKE I FUCKIN HATE U GODMDAN FUCKIBG GOAT MAKING ME REBLOG THIGNS FUCK YUO FUCK O FF but like????? apart from that UR FUCKING BEYOND FABULOUS and i have decided to compile a list of reasons why u are unbelievably great and have earned ur title of being a dancing queen/brilliant goat/actual love of my life. bc u are excellent. AND IT MUST BE WRITTEN OUT HERE SOMEWHERE THAT I LOVE YOU.

OK OK OK SO HERE WE GO BINCHES. PREPARE URSELF. THIS IS GONNA BE SUPER LENGTHY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU A LOT AND I AM GONNA DO A 'ON THE JELLICOE ROAD' WORTHY REVIEW OF U BUT LIKE A SHITTIER VERSION SO U BETTER FUNKIN BUCKLE UP BITCH

LEZGO:

IS OBVIOSULY FABULOUS

IS A REAL LIFE GIRAFFE

WE ARE BLESSED TO HAVE ONE ROAM OUT OF CAPTIVITY LIKE............. WE ARE STRONGLY BLESSED

I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH

CLAIMS TO HAVE 'barely any leg but a huge torso' and interpret this how u want bUT i just wanna say u r the most fucked up giraffe ever ok what the fuck WHO HURT YOU

apparently dis binch owns a bunny AND NEVER TOLD ME SHE DID

owns a problematic rabbit bc it pees everywhere

said problematic rabbit likes to pee everywhere so much its ridiculous it has no respect for the value of items of modern society and thus in my opinion should be sent to COURT

@ rabbit U NASTY OK PLS GET UR PRIORITIES SORTED???? THIS HAS BEEN A MOTHERFUCKING PSA THANK U (CAROLINE I AM TRUSTING YOU TO SHOW THIS ON UR PHONE TO THE GODDAMN BUNNY I NEED IT TO KNOW)

is 100% excellent at looking after drunk people ALRITE literally THIS WOMAN IS A SAINT who has saved REAL LIVES tbh where would that poor child from your old intermediate be if u hadn't SAVED HIS ENTIRE LIFE from all that tequila he would DEAD thats fuKCIN RIGHT U DESERVE ALL THE MEDALS A TRUE HERO AMONG NEW ZEALANDERS. A NATIONAL ICON. SO BRAVE I AM SO PROUD I LOVE YOU ALWAYS

AND ALSO PULLING DRUNK MAKING OUT PEOPLE OFF EACH OTHER I JUST WANT U TO KNOW THAT UR EFFORTS ARE SO VERY RECOGNIZED BECAUSE ONE TIME I DID THAT AND I GOT PUNCHED IN THE THROAT I THOUGHT I DIED BECAUSE I SAW JESUS BUT IT WASNT ACTUALLY JESUS IT WAS JUST A POSTER TAPED TO A FRIDGE I WAS SCAMMED

her own mum has called the police on her and was 100% ready for some quality fun family jailtime

ALSO ONE TIME GOATY ACCIDENTALLY FUCKED UP SOMEONES REAR MIRROR AND THE VICTIMS OF THE INCIDENT DID NOT GIVE HALF A FUCK HOWEVER, HER MOTHER GOATY REPORTED SEVERAL FUCKS TO THE POLICE AND FILED AN ACCIDENT REPORT AND THAT WAS THE DAY MY GOATY BECAME A DARK CRIMINAL

*OMINOUS MUSIC*

I AM STILL WAITING FOR THE DAY I WALK MY BUTT INTO COURT AGAINST UR MUM COVERED HEAD TO ASS IN $3 PLASTIC BRACELETS BACKED BY UR UNEXPECTEDLY KLEPTOMANIAC SISTER AND A BASKET OF STOLEN WOMANS DAYS AND ALONG WITH BLING BLING JIMMY WE WILL RESTORE THE RIGHTEOUSNESS AND LACK OF CONSCIENCE ON THIS LOVELY EARTH

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ENOUGHT ABOUT UR MUM LIKE ACTUALLY ALL UR FAMILY MEMBERS ARE DIFFERENT LEVELS OF WILD AND..... I AM AFRAID

OK OK IT MUST BE SAID CAROLINE HAS THE MOST AMAIZNG VOICE ????? EVER

like i love her voice sm SO FUCKING MUCH I TELL U i have never heard anything like it and i want caroline to like read me books for hours AND HOURS AND NARRATE MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE because i love how unusually deep and shadowy her voice sounds like deep flowing river water or smth like i LOVE IT SO MUCH it. Is.So. Strange BUT I LOVE IT IT IS THE COOLEST GODDAMN THING THROW A BUCKET AT ME I LOVE YOU

HAS A VIDEO OF HERSELF DOING THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE AND I KNOW I HAVE PRAISED IT FOR TWO YEARS IN A ROW ALREADY LIKE @ ME PLZ CHILL BUT i will not i will NEVER it is solid entertainment a+++ QUALITY I AM LAUGHIGN IM LAUGHING I AM LAUGHING FOREVER those beautiful hops of pain across ur backyard ARE THE LAST THINGS I WANT TO SEE BEFORE GOD TAKES ME FROM THIS EARTH

WRONGFULLY FRAMED ME FOR HAVING SHIT DICK TENDENCIES AND THEN YELLED AT ME AND CALLED ME A GARAGE WHAT A BINCH I AM IN LOVE

loves yellow flowers AND ALL THE FLOWERS AND HEAVY ROSES AND IS A FULL OUT FLOWER HOE

IS DESPICABLE TEEN WOLF GARBAGE LIKE.... ive been scrolling through our fanmails AND MY HEART HUR T S G O A T Y hOld mE we were sO Y O U N G and like no lie i shit u not 80% oF THE FUCKING MESSAGES ARE U YELLING 'STYDIA IS GONNA HAPPEN THIS SEASON' AND 'OH MY GOD DID U SEE THAT STYDIA SCENE' AND DECLARATIONS OF LOVE FOR LYDIA MARTIN AND THE OTHER 20% IS U ASKIN ME IF IVE SEEN THE NEW TEEN WOLF I LOVE IT I LOVE YOU I AM SORRY TEEN WOLF KEEPS DISAPPOINTING US BOTH BUT STDYIA IS. DEFINIETELY. GONNA. HAPPEN. THIS. SEASON. IT HAS TO OR I WILL FUKIN FITE ALRIGHT GIVE US STYDIA OR GIVE US DEATH I LOVE UR TEEN WOLF LOVIBG ASS

anyway caroline is an utterly excellent person

if u were an ncea paper i would grade u with excellence

*FINGER GUNS*

like ?????deals with my stupid yelling ALL THE TIME

whenever i had a problem and went to my goaty she was so very understanding and patient AND DID NOT CALL ME A DUMBASS WHEN I DESERVED TO BE DECKED

TOLD ME THE TRU DEFINTION OF THE PHRASE 'SHOT'

TWO YEARS OF UTTER CONFUSION. ERASED FROM MY LIFE. PERMANENTLY.

MY SKIN?? CLEARED . MY FUTURE BILLS ??? PAID MY HUSBAND MARRIED MY STATUE FOR CAROLINE FULLY ERECTED

ok but like i can never say this enough goaty IS SO NICE TO TALK TO PLETAHE TALK TO ME FORVER SHE IS FABULOUS??? it blows my mind constantly that someone this incredible and special walks along this earth NONE OF US DESERVE THE GOAT

also ???? WHAT IN THE FUCK HOW HAVE I NOT MENTIONED THIS YET CAROLINE IS THE BEST WRITER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE SHE IS SO TALENTED EVERY TIME I READ ONE OF HER FICS I END UP THINKING ABOUT IT AFTERWARDS FOR 958495894 YEARS ALRIGHT THEY FUCK ME UP THEY WAY SHE HANDLES WORDS FUCKS ME UP HOW CAN YOUT TAKE FUCKING LETTERS AND THEN SHOVE THEM UP MY ASS LIKE THIS I AM NOT ALRIGHT I AM NOT ALRIGHT I AM NOT ALRIGHT I am Not Strong Enough For This

i am not even kidding ok THE WAY U HANDLE WORDS IS IN.FUCKING.CREDIBLE whenever u use them its like?? u turned them into something precious and all your writing have this feel to it like as if im holding a delicate bouqet of a thousand yellow flowers like im holding a butterfly in my hands like im holding a box of eggs and i am scared shitless to drop it bC MY DAD WILL PERSONALLY CRUCIFY ME

I AM AWFUL AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT I HOPE U SEE WHAT I MEAN. LIKE. IT IS SO *SCREAMS* MINBLOWING DECK ME WITH ALL UR WORDS EVER

I AM ONE HUNDRED FUCKING PERCENT NEVER OKAY WITH ANYTHING YOU WRITE IT HURTS SO GOOD AND I LOVE IT

ok ok this hoe right here has written THREE fics with a dedication for me at the beginning and like.............. ..... do u ever just cri

i have 'the glorious everywhere' printed out and FUCKING PINNED TO MY WALL WHERE I CAN SEE IT FROM ALL CORNERS OF MY ROOM ALWAYS back in my apartment in russia like it is legitimately the best thing. i love everything about this piece it should be adapted into a novel or a short film like PULL SOME FIFTY SHADES OF GREY SHIT W/ IT OK the imagery and REALNESS of this fic gets to me all the time and im crying im crying im crying I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT PLS @ CAROLINE WHY ARE U SO TALENT

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT LOOK AT THIS BULLSHIT FUCKIG I THINK ABOUT THIS FIC EVERY SINGLE DAY WHEN I WAKE UP FUCKING LOOK ' You see her hair dripping down her head and spinning out over the seats in the back and lighting them on fire. You see her pale skin and electric veins as she puts her hand out the window and tries to catch the sky and stuff it up her sleeve. You hear her voice, “Just drive James, you’ll know where we’re going when we get there.”

REALLY I AM NOT FUCKIGN Okay CALL AN AMBULANCE CALL IT NOW I AM UNWELL I AM SICK I AM DYING FUK ME RITE UP

i am fully convinced this is the greatest thing thats ever been written.like. How. the. FUCK. tbh i want this paragraph ENTIRELY TATTOOED ON MY ASS I AM ZCRYING @ CAROLINE YOU HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BRAIN AND I AM SO VERY GLAD THAT IT EXISTS

i will not go into depth abt yelling about ur fics bc tbh i think u Know but I JUST WANNA SAY 'oh darling i have coloured blood (that i stole from you)' is the most iconic piece of literature to this day ever the and i zcri all the time because you are a goddamn bloody genius and you shine in colours beyond my comprehension and i love you so so so incredibly much

MY LOVE IS SO FUCKING TALENTED I AM YELLING I AM YELLING I AM YELLING

DOESN'T EAT FRIED SPERM

writes the BEST emails in history

UR SO LOVELY U GIVE ME SO MANY BEAUTIFUL SPELLING ERRORS FOR ME TO WHOLEHEARTEDLY ENJOY I AM GIGGLING *GIGGLES* IT BRINGS ME SO MUCH JOY WHEN U FUCK THINGS UP

tbh it is how fried chair came to life like it was actually in one of your first fanmails to me u said that two years ago and to this day it remains the Most Iconic Thing Ever

STRONG SUPPORTER OF WEETBIX

LOVES WEETBIX

FOUGHT TIGERS AND LIONS FOR HER FAMILY AND WAS SAVED BY WEETBIX AND WEETBIX ALONE

ACTUALLY HAD A THING CALLED ‘WEETBIX DISCOURSE’ ON HER BLOG LIKE IT WAS ACTUALLY A THING THAT HAPPENED A REAL THING THAT OCCURED AND WAS PASSIONATELY ARGUED ABOUT AND I HAVE SEEN THINGS THAT CANNOT BE UNSEEN

RIGHTFULLY SO BC WEETBIX >>>>> JONAH GRIGGS I AM SORRY IT IS THE RULES

FUCK THE H8RS

like ??? is hilarious af QUEEN OF HUMOUR AND MAKING ME SNORT MY GODDAMN CHOCLATE MILK LIKE CAN U NOT BE SO EXCEPTIONAL U HO HAVE SOME CONSIDERATION U LIL BITCH but YES a++ top notch QUALITY storytelling skills in both fic writing and tequila struggles I APPRECIATE IT TO DEATH

ok ok ok also the most beautiful person ever??? LIKE ???????????????? BITCH WHAT THE FUCK ??????????????????????????????????????????????? WHO ALLOWED U

THE MOST PERFECT HAIR. ur hair is like waves of a golden ocean cascading from ur hEAD AND IT IS SO MAGICALLY FITTING B/C U R AN ETHEREAL BEING AND THE FACT THAT U HAVE AN ENTIRE WILD SEA RAGING ON UR HEAD JUST PROVES TO ME THAT U ARE A GOD AMONG MORTALS. UR HAIR IS SO PRETTY OK OK OKAY FUCK ME UP. STRAIGHT UP GORGEOUS. SO SOFT TOO AND SO SHINY AND IT FITS U SO WELL I AM FOREVER SCREAMING

THE MOST ANGEL FACE. GOATYS FACE LOOKS LIKE GOD OR WHOEVER THE FUCK WAS RESPONSIBLE CARVED IT OUT OF ROSE PETALS AND MARBLE LIKE. IT. IS. TRULY. THE MOST GORGEOUS THING ur face is softer than clouds tbh AND UR SMILE SAVES MY LIFE ITS BRIGHTER THAN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE CONDENSED AND SOMETIMES WHEN I SEE UR SELFIES I HAVE TO GO GET LASER EYE SURGERY BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN B L I N D E D

U R SO UNCONSIDERATE TO MY FRAGILE HEALTH HOW DARE YOU

SO. GODDAMN GORGEOUS SLAY MY ENTIRE LIFE I BEG U ID PAY U TO SIT ON ME WITH UR HUGE BONES AND SLOWLY CRUSH ME INTO AN ENDLESS DEATH I HAVE $4 LEFT OVER FROM MY LIFE SAVINGS DO IT BAE

has the best taste in music omg WHAT A BLESSING WE LIKE THE SAME SONGS AND IT ACTUALLY KIND OF SCARES ME B/C IT FEELS LIKE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON AND THIS DOES NOT HELP MY CONSTANT STATE OF EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

HAS THE BEST TASTE IN BOOKS and adores skam as much as i do AND LOVES CHRIS/EVA AS MUCH AS IDO AND WROTE A FIC FOR THEM AND THE SNIPPET FROM IT ????? MY SOUL. GONE.

so tol and will never stop accusing me of being smol but listen up aight. imma FUCK YOU UP. REAL GOOD. ONE DAY. WHEN I CAN AFFORD TO BUY A LADDER. UNTIL THEN SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN BINCH BC I AM COMING TO GET U

and is also the smartiest smart to ever smart LOOK AT MY U GO WITH UR EXCELLENCE ENDORSEMENT when i buy that ladder I WILL CLIMB IT AND HOVER AROUND UR HEAD LOTS SO I CAN ABSORB UR POWERS AND ALSO BREATHE THE FRESH AIR UP THERE WHICH IS NOT AVAILABLE TO GROUNDED PEASANTS SUCH AS ME

AND IS THE BEST COOKIE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE LIKE IF THIS ISNT ENOUGH TO CONVINCE ANYONE THAT CAROLINE IS BEYOND EXCEPTIONAL FOR OUR GALAXY THEN THEY CAN FUCK OFF PLS OK

like honestly,,, MY LOVE I COULD GO ON FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND CENTURIES UNTIL MY TEETH FALL OUT AND I GROW SENILE WITH MY LOVE BUT THE POINT OF THIS HOT STEAMING LAME MESS IS THAT I LOVE YOU TO BLOODY PIECES UR SO F U C K I N G INCREDIBLE I AM SO GLAD I MET YOU AND THAT YOU TAlk TO ME AND WE EMAIL EACH OTHER AND I AM BLESSED THAT YOU EVEN THINK OF ME AND THAT FREID CHAIR LOVES ME AND THAT U R MY GOAT BC UR MY ONLY GOAT AND UR THE BEST ONE THERE IS NO SHADE @ ALL OTHER GOATS BUT LIKE. IM SORRY I CANNOT TELL A LIE

IT IS THE COLD HARD TRUTH.

and like??? i did a /search/deadgwen ON @jiilys BC I WANTED TO LOOK AT ALL OUR OLD STUFFS FROM 2015 and I Regret it I Regret it So Much theres a selfie from like when i was 14 and an idiot still on Ur blog and I look like an actual tragedy I Want to Die we have known each other for so long its RIDICULOUS UR STILL AS AMAZING AS U WERE BACK THEN AND I AM MORE OR LESS CURED OF MY CONDITION OF BEING AN EMBARASSING DIPSHIT AND ITS CRAZY HOW MUCH YOUNGER WE WERE THEN LIKE UM WTF BUT UR STILL AS BEAUTIFUL AND 9384930X TIMES MORE AND I STILL LOVE U BC UR PERFECT AS EVER AND THAT IS WHAT MATTERS

NOW. I WAS GONNA MAKE YOU A PRESENT LIKE I REALLY DID BAE I TRIED SO MUCH SHIT ITS HORRIBLE BC LIKE ??? I WANTED TO MAKE YOU A PRESENTATION ON UR GOAT SUPERIORTY LIKE I DID LAST YEAR EXCEPT Like i am a fucking asshole™(COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS THE MAN TEH MYTH THE LEGEND) who cannot do shit FOR SHIT it turned out so Awful and i cANNOT GRAPHIC BABE I TRIED TO MAKE YOU THIS EDIT AND THEN I REALIZED IT WAS Bad AND FOUGHT MYSELF FOR SIX HOURS AND I CANNOT WRITE AND YOU DESERVE ALL THE GIFTS EVER BUT I AM TRULY AWFUL

*ZCRIES*

I KNOW IM LAME AND MY ONLY TALENT IS YELLING FOR HOURS ON END I WISH I COULD HAVE MADE YOU SOMETHING REALLY COOL BC ITS UR SEVENTEETH AND 17 IS THE BEST NUMBER AND UR LOVELY AND I LOVE YOU SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME BAE FOR BEING AN ACTUAL GARAGE ASSHOLE (COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS THE EXPERIENCE) SHIT DICK 100% TERRIBLE DICKFLUTE OKAY I LOVE YOU AND I CAN NEVER IMAGINE WHAT I WOULD BE WITHOUT YOU IN MY LIFE AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A REALLY REALLY REALLY GOOD YEAR LIKE FUCK SHIT UP BAE UR GONNA BE IN YEAR 13 ITS ALL GONNA BE SO AWFUL AND WE WILL ALL DIE aND WERE SO O L D JESUS CHRIST IF HEART ATTACKS DONT TAKE US OUT NCEA LEVEL 3 WILL BUT I HOPE THIS WILL BE A SUPER GOOD YEAR FOR U IN REGARDS OF EVERYTHING BECAUSE U DESERVE IT U DESERVE IT U DESERVE IT I HOPE THINGS WILL LEAD UP TO U GETTING THAT APARTMENT IN NEW YORK AND ALL THE HIGH HEELS THAT U WILL WEAR AND ALL THE YELLOW FLOWERS THAT U WILL BUY AND UR CAREER AS A LIFECHANGING LITERARY GENIUS OK OK I LOVE YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE

ok ok ok but.

ONE MORE THING.

LISTEN.

THE FUCKING

*CLECNHES JAW*

REBLOG FIASCO

*FLINGS MY ASS INTO THE SUN*

WHEN IT IS GOOD AND DAYLIGHT. U HAVE UNTIL THEN. LIKE I KNOW THIS IS UR BIRTHDAY WISH AND I LOVE YOU BUT FUCK OFF HWO COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU I FUCKING FUCK JUST FUCK YOU FUCKING DICK i will RIOT

OKAY BABE ITS MIDNIGHT AND ILL BE UP IN ABOUT SIX HOURS AND LIKE. ANYTHING. ANYTHING ELSE FOR UR BIRTHDAY WISH OK BABE IM GONNA FUCKING DIE THIS IS IT THIS THE END I WILL GO DOWN SWEARING PROFUSELY WITH A HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE AND U WILL BE WATCHING AND LAUGHI G ANF @OFFICALTALL FUCK YU FUCKDUCKUD CUDCKUD DNUSJNDJF FUCK U @GOATY FUCK. UFCN WHERE IS UR HOOF WHY ARE U NOT FEELIN THE TEMPERATURE ITS EBOLA ITS GOATBOLA I WONT MAKE IT UNTIL DAWN I WONT SEE THE SUNLIGHT GOATY I CANT *FAKE CRYING SOUNDS* I WILL DIE. IT WILL HAPPEN. AND I WANT IT TO BE KNOWN THAT U ARE THE BITCH THAT KILLED ME. *MORE FAKE ZCRYING SOUNDS* I MUST SEND MESSAGES TO ALL MY DEAREST KIND FRIENDS WHO HAVE NEVER FUCKED ME LIKE THIS ALRIGHT *FAKE COUGHING* TELL THEM THAT I *MORE FAKE COUGHOGN* LOVE THEM *THROWS KETCHUP PACKET EVERYWHERE WHILE UR NOT LOOKING AND BUSY BEING WORRIED ABOUT MY HEALTH* AND I WILL REMEMBER THEM EVEN IN DEATH

ANYWAY HERE IS MY WILL:

WHAT U GET:

nothing

u get nothing

bINCH

zero. zip. nada

0 potato 4 u

U CAN HAVE THE SALT FROM MY KITCHEN SO U WILL BE PERPETUALLY REMINDED OF MY LAST EMOTIONS TOWARDS THIS LIFE

maybe like the one half a potato that was randomly in my drIVEWAY THAT ONE TIME

M A Y B E

WHAT GOOD KIND LOVING FRIENDS, SUCH AS MILS AND FRIED CHAIR AND ELLIE AND OTHER ASSORTED PEOPLES WHICH I SHALL ADDRESS IN CLAUSE 4.20 OF THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS OF MY WILL, GET:

actually mils is a hoe and can choke but u r the evil here rn aND FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS ARGUMENT WE WILL PRETEND THAT I LIKE MILS

ANYWAY. REALLY GOOD THINGS I OWN

I HAVE SOME SOCKS I DONT WANT U GUYS CAN HAVE THEM

AND LIKE

MY DUVET

SEE GOATY THESE ARE THE KIND OF HEART TOUCHING POST DEATH GIFTS U MISS OUT ON WHEN U MURDER ME IN COLD BLOOD

ALSO NO TOUCHING MY MANGOES THAT I BOUGHT TWO DAYS AGO BECAUSE I STILL WANT TO EAT THEM AND IF ANYONE EVEN BREATHES IN THEIR GENERAL DIRECTION I WILL BEAT THEM UNCONSCIOUS WITH A TELEPHONE THIS IS A T H R E A T

I HOPE UR TAKING NOTES AND I HOPE U FEEL GOOD ABOUT BEING A 6′3 KILLER BECAUSE UR AN ASSHOLE ™LIKE UR ASSHOLIER™ THAN THE REAL ASSHOLE THAT IS JONAH GRIGGS™ THE LABEL™ (COPYRIGHT JONAH GRIGGS™ THE ANT MURDERING HOT PIECE OF ASS™) BUT I WILL DIE FOR U MY GOAT *strokes ur pretty face* BC IT IS UR BIRTHDAY WISH FOR ME TO SUFFER AND I LOVE YOU AND I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR U THEREFORE . DESPITE THIS SICKNESS *FLAILS* I. WILL. BE. BRAVE. I WILL REBLOG THOSE TWENTY POSTS I WILL FLATLINE BY THE THIRD POST AND MY BLOOD WILL BE ON UR HANDS *CAREFULLY ARRANGES MY STUNT GOAT IN POSITION* AND I WILL BE YELLING CURSES AT YOU IN THE TAGS BUT I WILL DIE IN THE NAME OF HONOUR I WILL GO DOWN AS A GOAT NEVER HAS BEFORE

BUT LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND I I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC I AM SO HAPPY U EXIST. HAVE THE BOMBEST ASS 17TH BIRTHDAY BABE I HOPE UR PARTY IS LIT AND HAVE FUN GETTING DRUNK AND HAVING ALL THE BANTS AND LAFFS AND ALSO I WILL SEND U THE AWAITED EMAIL IN A FEW HOURS WHEN MY INTERENT IS BACK ON BECAUSE IT IS A CONTINUATION OF THIS BULLSHIT WITH SOME STRUCTURED DISCUSSION AKA WHAT THE FUCK DO U HAVE AGAINST SMIRNOFF ICE how is it not HARDCORE enough for u IT IS LITERALLY FLAVOURED VODKA DOES IT NOT KNOCK OUT UR 6′3 ASS OR WHAT EXCUSE ME

ANYWAY IN CONCLUSION.

HAPPY. SEVENTEENTH. BIRTHDAY. MY. CHUM.

*BLOWS U A KISS*

*PUTS ON TWO FÜR COATS TO REMAIN UNDETECTED*

*STEALS ALL UR WEETBIX AND RUNS AWAY TO ALASKA NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN*

*still replies ur emails tho cuz i love u bitch y u do dis to me*

#I LOVE YOU SORRY THIS IS SO LONG BUT MY POINT STANDS #ALSO SORRY FOR THE SHITTINESS AND IF SOMETHING LOOKS WEIRD BC I EDITED IT SO MANY TIMES IT IS PORBABLY MOST DEFINITELY FUCKED UP SOMEHWERE #@ MYSELF I DONT TRUST U #fucshias #jiilys #I LOVE U BAE HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAPPY HAPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY #*SINGS* HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU #my BIG GOAT UR 17 NOW I AM ZCRYING RN I SWEAR I LOVE YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY

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