#he was leashed up and fed dog food bro | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

infernobot · 3 years

Text

TEETH?

Teeth?

By InfernoBot

I had just finished recording, and was carrying my dog in from the office, when my mom handed me an envelope. Once I had my sweet pupper nestled into a blanket, I joined her on the couch and slit open my mysterious delivery. Inside was no note, just a brochure to something called ‘Furnal Equinox’ and an accompanying plastic badge bearing the image of a anthropomorphic dog, (maybe it was a wolf), wearing a graduation cap and gown.

As my eyes scanned the glossy pages, my excitement grew; some lovely person had sent me a weekend pass to a furry convention! This was my big chance to make a video detailing my adventures through a mass gathering of one of the internet’s most maligned and misunderstood subcultures. Over the coming weeks, I studied the brochure, read up on the panelists online, noted every question about the furry fandom that popped into my head. My itinerary for the whole weekend was mapped out.

Super chats and KoFi tips managed to cover the cost of a bottom-barrel airline ticket, and I got a great deal on an Air B&B from a charming indiginous woman named Semide, whose sisters had enrolled in college and left their rooms vacant. She was even kind enough to include meals as part of the deal. The weekend of the con finally rolled around; I threw my things in a bag and I was off to Toronto.

Eighteen hours and three layovers later, I was sitting at my host’s kitchen table with a warm towel draped over the back of my neck, sipping a cup of coffee. It turned out Semide was a naturopathic healer and knew some kickin’ remedies for aches, pains and jet lag. I don’t put much stock in essential oils, but damn if I didn’t wake up feeling fresh and ready to face the day the next morning. The convention was being held on the waterfront about nine blocks from Semide’s place, not too bad for a walk, and I reckoned I could make the trek each day.

I left late in the morning, well after the con had opened. No sense waiting in line, I figured. It was three blocks from the Westin Harbor Castle, when I saw the first fursuit.

There was no explaining the rush of exhilaration I felt. This was real. This was happening. I was gradually being surrounded by dozens of people decked out in bright, elaborate costumes. Some that couldn’t afford full suits wore just heads and gloves, giving a ghoulish Frankenstein’s monster appearance to their character. Or the wolf-man caught mid transformation after being bitten by a neon fox in a rainbow pride shirt. The less daring, or particularly destitute, settled for headbands with animal ears and strap-on tails.

Waiting to cross the last street, I was elbow to elbow with a giant Sonic the Hedgehog and a seven-foot tall purple giraffe sporting a quadruple-XL adult diaper. Something told me before the weekend was over, that particular garment would get filled. Before I could contemplate the logistics further, the light changed and the extremely polite, if curiously dressed herd moved into the street and we sorted into a semblance of a line being steadily processed through the doors into the main convention hall. I was in.

The lead-up to the main event hadn’t prepared me for what lay inside. A teenage girl in a ‘volunteer’ shirt thrust an opaque plastic bag into my hands before Big The Cat shoved me aside and began professing his undying love for her beauty. I stumbled into the row of booths on the main floor, further progress blocked by an electric green armadillo strumming an acoustic guitar with a stuffed fish tucked in the strings.

This was it, I weaved my way between con-goers and took it all in. Clip-on LED cat ears. A custom-fit fang booth. Stacks of comics focused on humanoid animals. Racks upon racks of faux-leather collars and leashes. The waifu pillows. I pulled my phone from my pocket and approached the nearest open booth.

Time for an interview, I thought.

Eight hours, two energy drinks and a box of granola bars later, I was dead on my feet. There was no way of knowing how many people I’d talked to as the day progressed. Or just how strange my conversations had become. I think I spoke at length with Cool Cat about the merits of various vape pens, despite the fact I don’t smoke. But it hadn’t all been nonsense.

Before I had degenerated into a gibbering wreck, I had chanced to be standing beside a fountain near the food court and heard a familiar warbling voice behind me. To my great delight, when I turned around I found a young woman with jet black hair, a hawaiian shirt and a black & yellow long-Furby draped over her shoulders; I instantly recognized her as Teya from Strange Aeons. After she’d finished speaking to her friend, I politely tapped her on the arm and introduced myself. She turned out to be super cool, excited to meet another youtube creator, and talked to me for about ten minutes as her girlfriend went off to wait in line for the bathroom.

While most of our conversation centered around videos and our special boy Greg, my eyes kept getting drawn back to Thursday Plurbonym Boyporridge. His black and yellow checkered belly, his luxurious black fur, those piercing green eyes; it was all so captivating. I couldn’t quit looking at the charm necklace below his little yellow beak spelling out his name; Thursday. Eventually, I complimented her on her videos and her handsome long-son one last time and we parted ways. It had been a pleasant break, but even here, the persistent strains of Insane Clown Posse that permeated the space were grating on my nerves.

When the time had come for all the furry folk to close up shop and head home, I staggered out into the street with all the lingering con-goers. Despite the initial culture shock, most of the people I’d met had been great. I could stand here, elbow to elbow with ponies, foxskies, giant pomeranians and adorable cat girl maids on the steps of Westin Harbor Castle, and just enjoy the last moments of the sun setting over Toronto. That is until the moment was shattered by an obnoxious voice that sounded more like it belonged outside a Patriots game accompanied by the echo of shattering beer bottles.

“Now that the party’s over, we can get down to the afterparty at my place; which of you bitches wants to come home with me?”

My head swiveled like a tank turret toward the source of the voice, my face bearing the expression which must have read did this motherfucker just?

A man-child wearing a My Little Pony t-shirt that had been stretched over his prodigious girth, a pair of denim jorts hanging past his knees and sweat-stained socks encased in mandles, slid his oily bulk up behind a group of teenage girls dressed as some kind of anime cat maids. He leaned his acne-studded face in close to them and said, “Since you’re dressed as maids, how about I take you home and make you change my cumm-y bedsheets after a night of passionate love-making.”

The overly-polite locals may have been in shock, but I knew a neckbeard when I saw one and knew immediately what to do.

“How ‘bout you back the fuck off bro, they’re kids.”

Maybe he wasn’t expecting resistance, but he seemed genuinely taken aback by someone speaking up. Once he got a look at me, he re-adjusted his fedora and stared me down. I admit, I might not look terribly intimidating; bulky, but not muscular, with my hair dyed bright teal and swept to one side. At least I had on a Pink Floyd t-shirt, that felt a little like a layer of protection against his fed-aura. He drew in a snot-choked breath and continued,

“They’re dressed as the maids from Painappuru No Oshiri, they’re harem girls that’re totally thirsty for the main character. Each maid is eager to bend over and present their ripe ruby star-fruit to their master. They’re, like, practically advertising how much they want it in the ass.”

“Why don’t you leave them alone, fuckmuppet?” I retorted. “You look like you're forty and they’re a bunch of teen girls.”

He was not pleased with my argument. The group of cat-maidens had shaken off their surprise and closed ranks. But they weren’t ready when he lunged forward and grabbed at the petticoat of the red cat-maid on the outside, lifting her skirts up to expose the shorts underneath.

“It’s not even a chick, it’s a dude. Chill out.”

A glance at the cosplayer’s face revealed a mask of burning red embarrassment, fear and confusion. Their friends were moving to grab at the neckbeard’s hand, but I was quicker. I swatted his arm like I was chopping down the internet itself and pushed right up in his face. Practically nose-to-nose, I couldn’t avoid the stench of fermented funyuns rolling off his breath.

“Keep. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off of them.”

His chins quivered slightly.

“Oh, you wanna start something, Rainbow Brite? I bet you like it in the ass, prancy-boy.”

“For a supposedly straight guy, you sure are obsessed with getting your dick in a guy’s butt.”

The flab of his cheeks reddened to match his acne.

“You’re gonna regret that. I’m a man with a very particular set of skills…”

I cut him off; I didn’t have the patience for a real-life copy pasta.

“Is one of your skills getting punched by me? Cause if you keep talking, you’re going to be teaching a master class.”

I could feel that neckbeardy-bravado wavering. Perhaps he could sense the crowd around us had turned against him, moving to shield the cat-maids and staring daggers into his lumpy flesh. With one last snotty huff, he turned and stormed away; the sound of his mandles slapping on the concrete echoed off the face of the convention center.

A group of several of the more adulty-er people had ringed the victims and were doing their best to calm them down. I shuffled over and started to apologize for the beardo’s behavior, when the red cat-maid began thanking me profusely and asked for a hug. Apparently, this was not the first time their group had been approached at the convention. We stood around chatting for a while, and they promised to check Evangelion when they got home. Once the cat-maids were safely in their Lyft, I waved them goodbye and turned to make my journey home for the night.

I started back up the street I'd taken this morning, but as I approached the doorway to a grimey building, I became aware of a fully-suited Yogi Bear propositioning a man dressed like Linda-Carter-era Wonder Woman. I was pretty wiped out and didn’t have it in me to process an altercation like this if they noticed me and instead took an abrupt right turn down an alley, intending to zig-zag back to my Air B&B.

I was nearly out the other side when my ears picked up the slapping of mandles on pavement rushing up behind me. A searing pain burst into existence in my lower back, like someone put a cigarette out on my spine.

I went down, hard.

The mylar swag bag I’d been swinging around all day splashed into a puddle off to one side. I was barely able to heave myself over onto my back to get a look at my attacker. It was him. The Neckbeard. He stood over me, grinning, his yellowed teeth visible in the night. The little black box in his hand flickered with a blue spark as he triggered the taser again.

“Heh heh. You like that, princess? I aimed a little high so I wouldn’t damage your sweet ass.”

“Fuck….you….” I gasped out through the pain. My muscles were cramping like someone had dug a burning fork into my lower back and twisted it up like a plate of spaghetti.

“Heh. You’re the one taking it in the ass, rainbow bitch.” He stepped over me, squatting like a linebacker, bringing the taser close to my face. “Maybe I’ll push this in your eyeball and see if I can make it boil.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement between his legs. Something thin and dark darted up from the shadows, toward his exposed back. He let out a cry of surprise, and shot upright, swinging his arms wildly behind him, grabbing at something. He hopped wildly from foot-to-foot across the alley, the tail hanging from the back of his pants swaying wildly with the movement. I thought it was weird I hadn’t noticed the tail before, especially with how long it was, practically sweeping the ground. The fuzzy black appendage was moving...wrong. It kept curling up and twisting out of his hands as he grasped at it, almost as if it were...alive.

“Oh Goddamnit!” He screamed. “What the fuck, dude?!”

He dropped the taser and got a grip on the tail with both hands, tugging on it. A ripping sound echoed through the alley as the seat of his pants tore out. The thing was, the tail wasn’t attached to his pants, it was going in through his pants, nestled between his prodigious posterior cheeks like one of those fetish plugs. As he violently jerked it side-to-side, it was ripping at the fabric of his trousers, the same went for his less-than-tidey whiteys.

“Get this fucking thing off of me!” He howled.

He grunted as the tail slipped his fingers and wriggled another foot inside him. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he collapsed back against a green dumpster. Like a man who had gambled on a street taco truck and lost, he bit his knuckle and gripped his abdomen through his stained t-shirt. It might have been a trick of the light, but I swear I could see his belly distend and squirm; the words ‘Friendship Is Magic’ bulging as something rolled under them.

His mandles dug into the alley grime as he feebly kicked his legs, and I could only watch in disgust as the rest of the fuzzy, black, thing slithered up inside him, forcibly dilating his leather cheerio. It was incredible. I could actually see its progress as it wormed its way through his body. He blubbered something about God and Jesus as his hand clawed frantically at his own belly, before his voice abruptly went silent.

There was a long, drawn-out wheezing sound, like one of those novelty rubber chickens, as the bulk of the thing moved up his throat. I don’t know how his flesh distended and deformed without bursting, but it reached his mouth and his jaw opened wide. First one small black, fuzzy ear lined with black and yellow plaid popped up, then another, followed by the crown of this thing’s head, pushing his teeth outward like flower petals blooming.

It rose before me, straight up from his mouth, its black and yellow belly slick, but not stained by his juices. His dislodged teeth clung to its matted fur like an obscene necklace. It swayed slightly in the moonlight, a pair of luminous green eyes fixed on mine, and its beak opened. With the rising inflection of someone asking a question, it uttered one word:

Teeth?

#strange aeons #moonhorse #furby #long furby #fan fiction #Teya

7 notes · View notes

thatdragonsdrabbles · 5 years

Text

[Still working on getting Horrortale down, but I'll try my best for you, lovely!]

[Warning: This piece covers some dark subjects, like attempted genocide of the entire human race via war and eating. It's not described in-depth, especially compared to the AU in question, but I feel the warning is still necessary. Read at your own risk!]

Horrortale!Sans (and Papyrus) with captured human Reader

To think it would've been that easy.

Sans still couldn't believe it. Undyne had actually followed through with her promise after the barrier broke. They struck hard, fast, and with an appetite. Civilians crushed by bone and boulders, policeman pierced by spears and claws, armies annihilated by explosions and acids. Under the onslaught of furious and ravenous monsters, the humans hardly stood a chance.

With the surplus of supplies, the monsters were able to engorge themselves until finally, the bottomless caverns of their stomachs relaxed. They could think again. Feel. But they would never be the same.

The entire continent was theirs. The rest of the world didn't dare lash out, in fear of eradication. Queen Undyne finally couldn't handle the strain of so much Determination, and fell down. But the rest of monsterkind thrived.

To be entirely honest, Sans wasn't exactly happy. Not everything could be hidden from Papyrus, who had been devastated with each city that fell. In the end, though, what truly mattered was that they could put food on the table. It didn't have to be people anymore, either. They lived in the woods, a familiar territory far from city noise. Things could've turned out a lot worse for them.

He felt like he was forgetting something important, though. That nagging feeling followed him around a lot, these days. Like, he was supposed to be meeting someone. But who would he meet up here on the surface?

He can't even remember how the barrier broke anymore.

Years passed.

A few human strongholds were likely scattered about the monster continent, hidden well enough from scouts. It was the only explanation for the strays occasionally found wandering the wilderness. Some were eaten out of habit, but others were captured and sold as oddities and luxuries. Monsters would ready them for feasts, or keep them as pets.

That was never something that interested Sans. He had enough on his plate. Humans weren't on the menu anymore, and he was only keeping track of one mouth to feed.

Then one day, he stepped inside the front door to find Papyrus hurriedly flinging a blanket over the sofa. “G-good evening, brother! How was your t...trip?”

He could see a cushion, wet with something dark. And red. Something in his soul shifted. Then he was yanking the cover away, ignoring Papyrus' pleas.

A human.

You'd been passed out in the woods, and Papyrus had stumbled upon your body on his afternoon walk. He'd carried you home, far healthier with a steady diet, and had just quietly introduced himself when Sans had barged in. His plan had been to nurse you back to health, like an injured bird.

But they couldn't keep you. If any of the old royal guard came out for a visit, their instincts would instantly pick up your human scent. Sans didn't want a fight on his hands, or for his brother to have to watch yet another human fall. So he tried to convince him to throw you out.

Papyrus refused. Adamantly. Crooked teeth were grit, sockets wide and staring. He knew exactly what could happen—would happen. But still he vowed, “I won't l...let another human d-d-die!”

It was the waver in his voice. Sans resigned.

The rules were: You had to be restrained at all times, leashed when Sans wasn't home, and you had to obey their every command. This went from Sans telling you to sit in a corner for hours to Papyrus inviting you cook with him. In return, they didn't harm you, and they kept you fed and safe.

Unsurprisingly, you were wary of their food. But eventually you ate. It wasn't people, Papyrus promised. The reminder was painful for both parties.

One night had Sans leaning on the living room wall. You were sat in front of the sofa while Papyrus watched his favorite shows. Anniversary commercials flashed by. Had it really been fifteen years already, since the barrier broke? Sans glanced at his fingers to count the seasons. Too many. Scratching at his cracked skull, he missed how the episode ending.

Sometimes, he watched you as you slept. That dirty mattress he'd dragged in was hardly comfortable. But you hadn't complained. Funny, he couldn't recall you ever complaining. The tears from that first day were long dry. You weren't happy, but you weren't uncomfortable here. The household somehow wasn't crowded by your presence.

How odd, that he only just realized he'd never heard your voice. The world still slipped away from him on occasion. Often, when winter blanketed the woods in snow, he almost forgot they were free.

Papyrus always referred to you as “human.” Sans did too, except for the occasional slip-up. Sometimes you caught him in a good mood and got a “kid” instead. Then he'd catch you rolling your eyes. He wondered how old you really were. He probably shouldn't care. He wondered if it would matter if he did.

Despite his reminders and paranoia, life seemed to enjoy taking him by surprise. Doggo came by on an odd day, where Sans was farther from the house than usual. Even at his fastest, he would've been too late by the time he found the footprints.

This will destroy Papyrus, he thought, hurrying all the same.

The door flew open as he braced himself for a massacre. He remembered the last time Doggo had found a human. What he didn't expect was to find you at the dinner table, not on it—or your hand on Doggo's head instead of in his mouth. How had you managed to tame him? The old dog still managed a slow tail wag, head turned towards the front door.

“I didn't know you two had a human,” he barked. “I should get one and train them to give pets too!”

You were... something else.

Sans stopped peering at you, graduating to all-out staring. You gave him odd looks, but eventually you began staring back. He wouldn't blink, of course. Your head would tilt. Neither of you said a word.

If Papyrus didn't have you in the kitchen with him, or carrying you around, he had you solve increasingly difficult puzzles. They were always dangerous—in theory, because he gave you blueprints instead of the real deal. It was fun to guess when you'd give up. My brother's got quite a talent with puzzles.

Yet you never did. For hours, you had sat there, pencil scratching across paper, until you finally came up with a feasible solution for escape. And while Papyrus kept you busy with puzzle after puzzle, Sans knew why there was a smile on his face. Whenever you found a way out, it was proof that the puzzles weren't entirely impossible. Someone could have survived them. Blueprints were pulled out of the dusty trunk to decorate the fridge, all marked by circles and arrows and souls.

So... you knew exactly how to get out of the house. That much was clear. How to get out of bindings, how to cover your tracks, how to slip out of sticky, prickly or hairy situations. You had everything in that squishy head of yours.

To be honest, Sans didn't understand you.

You were sitting on the sofa when Sans got up in the middle of the night. So you were slipping out of your restraints. He ignored how you tensed, sitting on the opposite end with a glass of water. You had never outright disobeyed the brothers during the daytime. Maybe this was your quiet rebellion. He didn't have the energy to be angry.

“You're really somethin', kid,” he muttered.

The television was off, the kitchen nightlight glinting off the screen. Ice thunked in the freezer. You shifted on the couch.

When you moved as if to return to bed, a skeletal hand rose. “Don't bother. Won't be long.” You stared, gradually sinking back onto the cushion. The hand turned palm-up. “Guess you've got it pretty good here, huh?”

Years in the sunlight had messed with Sans' night vision, but he could still see the frown on your face. You nodded.

“You keep my bro entertained. Even helped him fix the sink.”

Red numbers glowed from his room. One-something-seven. Your hands twisted together like vines.

“Just wonderin' what your endgame is. Cuz, it's all a game, right?” You shook your head. “No? Huh. My mistake.”

There was something else going on. A voice was screaming in his head. Paranoia flared again. He hadn't eaten human flesh in years, but the sudden urge to rip your arm off with his teeth came and went. It left something heavy in his ribcage. No, he didn't want to eat you after all. He didn't want you dead. He hadn't ever wanted you dead. But he wished he did.

He only realized he was gripping his skull when your hand gently brushed his. The shock threw him off of the couch and away from you. You immediately hit the ground, already dabbing at the puddle. Right, the glass. Why had he gotten it again? Wasn't important.

“Wait—stop.” He stepped forward, halting just short. Your puzzled look was waved away. “Don't bother.”

You stared up at him, forehead faintly creased. The sight caused something to get to its feet in his mind—sluggish, but determined. It began to swell like a balloon, the growing pressure putting a strain on his smile. The urge for violence returned. He pulled at his injury.

In a breath, you returned to your feet and reached again. You wanted him to stop, as if you cared about his well-being. He jerked away. If you got too close, he didn't want to have to explain a disaster to Papyrus.

But you didn't give up.

It was strange that a human would have such power, especially in this world you lived in. And yet, Sans found himself pressed against a wall as you stood before him, your hand covering his. You looked him right in his sockets. Your warm flesh called for him. He could just take a quick bite. One small morsel from your shoulder wouldn't hurt, right? But even with the phantoms of hunger in his skull, it was that hand demanding his attention. Or more accurately, what he felt through it. It burned, sparked, hummed.

Your soul. He could feel your soul.

He stared at your hand as that balloon finally popped, releasing memories of a time free of starvation and horrors. When life had been simpler, even bearable. Snow puzzles, ball games, and trombones. When he and his brother had made the best of things, without succumbing to the worst.

When the skeleton brothers had met their very first human.

Sans couldn't forget a soul like yours.

Somehow, you knew that he had finally remembered. The way your expression brightened made him shudder.

“Human...” No. That wasn't right. “Kid.”

Here they were keeping you like a pet, and you still cared. You still participated in Papyrus' puzzles, even if they had gotten far more horrifying since you'd last seen each other. You still sat with them for dinner, even if Sans' ketchup pranks were a little hollow. While he should've been angry that you had left the Underground, left them for dead... He didn't have the energy to hate anymore. So much time had passed. You were only a child, back then. And in the end, you came back.

It was almost as if you had sought them out.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask. Things he wanted to know. Feelings he wanted to understand. But those could wait. Now you had all the time in the world. There was one pressing concern he had to address, though.

“You never paid off yer tab.” The look you gave him was perfect. The snort, a nice bonus. Hesitant, he finally mustered the courage to cover your hand with his other—not embarrassed, but determined not to succumb to horrible habits. “'Sokay. We can go see Grillby about it tomorrow.”

If he was going to do anything to make up for the situation you were in now... he wanted to make sure you saw all of your old friends. The ones who had made it, anyway.

(He offered a collar and leash, for “protection.” But you refused.)

#undertale #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus #x reader #platonic #romantic #i suppose it could be read as either #snippets

34 notes · View notes

nneoculture · 7 years

Text

crush - mark lee bulleted scenario

a/n this is my first thing ever and my requests are open!!! request scenarios, reactions, and mtl’s pls! nct only!

summary: you have a huge crush on mark and donghyuck snitches and you try your best to avoid him as much as possible genre: fluff

- so you’re like ,, super close with donghyuck but not as close as he is with mark - and you like mark A LOT but you don’t even know him personally you just hear about him from donghyuck and see him around school - and OFCOURSE you wouldn’t tell donghyuck about your crush on mark. that boy can’t keep his mouth shut even if he tried - so like one day you’re just hanging out with donghyuck doing your own best friend-y things at this cafe - then suddenly mark and their other friends (literally the rest of 127 but thats so irrelevant) come in so donghyucks like YOOOOO U GUYS ARE HERE TOO - so he calls them over and hes like this is y/n they’re my bff - and you’re like . h-hi stutter stutter bc mark!!! lee!!! is standing right in front of you - and theyre like oh nice to meet you but we gotta get going now we’re gonna be late for our thing - so they leave and as soon as they’re out of the door donghyuck turns to look at you and goes - “i have no idea why i never realized” - and you’re like “bitch what” - and he’s like “you like mark DON’T YOU????” - and you’re like “I DONT EVEN KNOW HIM” - and he’s like “shut up i saw how you were looking at him earlier i bet you didn’t even see the other guys” - and you try to defend urself by saying “i paid attention to the other guys just as much as i did to mark!!!!! the hell are u talking about” - and so donghyucks like “then whats the name of the guy with the pink hair?” - you’re like “tae……yeon?” - and hes like SEEEEEEEEE - he doesnt stop teasing you about it - you eventually get fed up and youre like “OK I LIKE MARK NOW SHUT UP BEFORE I BREAK UR NECK!!!!! keep it a secret though or i’ll actually break your neck” - so donghyucks like “ofcourse your secrets safe with me” - you don’t trust him but you don’t really think much of it - so a few days pass and you’re at school and you notice marks kinda glancing at you but he never really says hi - but youre like oh maybe he just recognizes me from the cafe - and this happens a couple more times which makes u feel kinda :3333 bc mark lee is looking at u but maybe he just looks at everyone so ur also like ;(((( - then probably a week after the cafe thing you’re eating lunch with donghyuck at school and you notice he’s really quiet - and he’s being EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA nice for some reason and youre like. this can’t be real - so you’re like “what are you hiding” - and donghyuck stares at you in shock - then he stuffs a whole spoon of rice into his mouth - and he’s like “imayormaynothavetoldmarkyoulikehim” - and you obviously didn’t understand a thing he said because it was muffled by all that RICE - so you ask him “what did u say” - and he swallows his food and goes “DON’T GET MAD AT ME PROMISE YOU WON’T GET MAD” - you’re like ok i promise - and donghyucks like “i told mark you like him” - AND YOU KICKED HIM IN THE LEG FROM UNDER THE TABLE SO FAST - HE’S LIKE “YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT BE MAD YOU PROMISED” - and you’re like “YOU KNEW I’D GET MAD” - then you two are just sitting there in silence til u finally calmed down and went “when did u tell him” - and donghyuck says “like … last week maybe” - and you’re like UGH THATS WHY HES BEEN STARING but u dont tell donghyuck that because hes annoying so u say “what did he say” - so donghyuck goes “he just said oh really?” - and you’re like OH REALLY ? - TF DOES THAT MEAN - so ur over it (on the outside, because you don’t wanna talk about it with donghyuck anymore) but on the inside you’re silently freaking out and now you don’t wanna have any encounters with mark at all - so you start avoiding being near him at all times - see him in the library? RUN!!!! - oh he’s in the nurses office too? you’re suddenly not sick - donghyuck wants you and his friends to catch a movie together??? you suddenly have so much homework sorry can’t make it - you’re just doing everything in your will to not encounter mark because its kinda embarrassing if he addresses it ya know - so one day you’re walking your dog in the park - and you let her off her leash bc its safe anyway let her have fun ok whatever - then you’re just sitting on a park bench just on your phone texting and shit - then you look over at where your dog is and you see ANOTHER DOG HUMPING HER - so you’re like OH MY FUCKING GOD - and you rush over to where the two doggos are at - and so does the owner of the other dog - and you’re too busy RUNNING OVER TO YOUR DOG TO REALIZE THAT THE OTHER OWNER IS NONE OTHER THAN MARK LEE - so u finally get there and u look at him and you’re like AW CRAP - and he looks at you and goes “oh hey y/n…… sorry about this” - and you’re like “uhhhh its fine i mean i guess she’s old enough ugh what am i saying im sorry too” - and he just laughs and inside ur like HES SO CUTE - but yeah deep inside you’re like “UDHDHHDHDJD THIS IS SO AWKWARD OUR DOGS ARE LITERALLY MATING AND THERES NOTHING WE CAN DO” - so youre both just standing there awkwardly - ……waiting for your dogs to finish - and he breaks the silence by saying “you’re pretty close with donghyuck huh” - and you’re like “oh uh yeah our parents are friends” - and he’s like “if i hadn’t known better i would think you’re dating tbh” - and you’re about to say “BUT U KNOW I LIKE U” - but he doesn’t know that you know so you’re just like “hes like a brother to me i’d never date him” - but then he goes “so who would u date” - and ur like wtf is he trying to get me to say its him thats so cocky of him - and something just comes over you because bro. mark lee is right here talking to u just take ur chance RIGHT - and u go “i know donghyuck told you” - and hes like ???? what - and you’re like “you don’t have to deny it mark i know donghyuck told you about my crush on you” - and marks like “WHAT CRUSH HE DIDNT TELL ME ANYTHING” - and you’re like WHAT - but what you weren’t expecting was this - mark goes “DONGHYUCK TOLD ME HE TOLD YOU THAT I HAD A CRUSH ON YOU” - and youre just SHOOK - you’re like “THATS WHAT HE TOLD ME ABOUT YOU” - and youre both too shocked at how well donghyuck planned this - you’re literaly forgetting to acknowledge the fact that the feeling is mutual and YOUR DOGS ARE DONE MATING - then it hits u and ur like “wait u like me?” - and marks like “i always have??? YOU LIKE ME?” - and youre like “I ALWAYS HAVE TOO” - and marks like “damn….. donghyuck really did this…..” - and you tell him you’re already planning dh’s death - and marks like “count me in…. he’s dead to me too….” - and you’re like “ill hold his arms you hold his legs” - so mark goes “we should plan this thoroughly over lunch… maybe this saturday?” - and you’re like “is that a date?” - and he’s like “PSH NO obviously nOt its a plan to kill donghyuck” - you’re like :333 “see you on saturday then” - and hes like “lets not bring our dogs” - and you’re like “agreed” - so now you’re going on a date with mark all thanks to donghyucks devious plan. that boy lied to both of you to get the truth out GENIUS

#mark lee #nctwriters #nct #nct 127 #dream #fluff #angst #minhyung #au #texts #boyfriend #crush #scenarios #bulleted scenario #mtl #reaction #reactions #donghyuck #taeyong #yuta #jaehyun #johnny

431 notes · View notes

latinkilledtheromans · 6 years

Text

one time my mom was feeding the dog pepperoni. she was just reaching into the package, grabbing a pepperoni and throwing it to him to catch and eat. then, as she threw one, she realized after it left her hands that it wasn’t a pepperoni, it was the silica packet that they kept in there to keep the pepperoni dry and edible. The dog, of course, gobbled it down.

so we called the helpline on the pepperoni packet, who knew nothing, and then called the vet, who said we should give him some hydrogen peroxide to make him throw up. (I don’t remember the actual amount, if you need to do this call a vet.) So we chain the dog’s leash to the fence so he doesn’t get very far, feed him the H2O3, and then waited.

A couple minutes later the dog starts puking. And up comes all of this spaghetti. Like, tons of spaghetti, with the little silica packet on top. So my mom of course is like “WHERE IS ALL THIS SPAGHETTI COMING FROM?”

because of course, unknown to her, not half an hour earlier, instead of eating my leftover spaghetti for lunch like i told her i did, I just fed it to the dog. Me and the dog were bros like that. He ate a lot of my food, three day old spaghetti included. Neither of us expected that he’d be throwing it up and ratting us out.

So of course then I tried to tell my mom how i didn’t finish it all and gave the dog what I couldn’t finish, but I’m sure she knows. We all know.

9 notes · View notes

leisurelypanda · 7 years

Text

Life is Good chapter 12

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11676360/chapters/26719242

About a month after they started volunteering at the animal shelter, Craig was impressed with his daughters’ persistence. They didn’t, as he half expected, pet and hold the dogs while he and his bro ended up having to clean out kennels and feeding them and such. They really jumped in and kept it up. They might have shied away from helping clean out the cages at first, but they did it. Admittedly they were a bit more enthusiastic about learning how to groom the dogs, especially the Burnese Mountain dog puppies, which had proven difficult to find homes for since they were already a bit smaller than a Labrador and they were still growing rapidly. For people who lived in a city, big dogs were sometimes difficult to place.

They weren’t subtle, but that was probably good, since they seemed to have their hearts set on one (or both, God forbid). The puppies were usually the first ones to get a walk, the first ones to have their kennels cleaned, the first ones to be fed, the first ones to be groomed, and the ones who received the most cuddles when they were done. He was really hoping that they didn’t get it into their heads that they had to have both because they brothers. One puppy would be enough work, especially if they got as big as he looked up. They’d be huge! Nothing in the house would be safe from their reach!

But if it made his girls/bro happy… he could find a way to live with it. And know him, he’d probably end up loving the dog. He just hoped that the dog wouldn’t want to sleep with him and his bro. As much as he liked dogs, he liked sleeping with his bro more.

As his family piled into the car for their weekly volunteering, he silently hoped that the girls would forget that this was technically the one month mark that he had mentioned when they first started volunteering at the shelter. Craig definitely hadn’t forgotten until his bro mentioned it last night as they were about to fall asleep. That would be silly.

“So dad,” Briar said. Oh no, he thought.

“Yes, Briar?”

“Can we get Fergus or Carl when we’re done volunteering today?”

“One of the puppies is named Carl?” he asked. “Did you know about this, bro?”

Andrew clearly didn’t. “How long has his name been Carl?”

Hazel looked between them. “It’s literally been on their cage this whole time. Fergus and Carl,” she said slowly.

Craig laughed. “Brooo I think we’re getting old,” he said.

“We’re not old,” Andrew protested. “We’re fashionably uncool!”

“There’s a difference?” Briar asked.

“Ouch, kid,” Craig said. “That really hurts. We’re only 39!”

“Papa, were there dinosaurs around when you were a kid?”

Andrew gave the girls a side-eye but didn’t answer.

“Bro, was Amanda like this when she was their age?” Craig asked.

“Dude, Amanda’s still like this and she’s twice their age!”

“Hey, if they turn out half as well as Amanda, I’ll be happy.”

“Brooo,” Andrew said, smiling. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

Hazel and Briar covered each other’s eyes as Craig leaned in to kiss his bro at a traffic light.

They arrived at the shelter and walked through the doors to find none other than Damien Bloodmarch, in suspiciously normal clothing. “Craig, Andrew! Good morning,” he greeted them warmly. “I didn’t expect to see you two here.”

“We’ve been volunteering here for about a month,” Andrew said. “The girls wanted one of the Burnese Mountain dog puppies.”

“Oh them, how delightful,” Damien said. “I should mention that if you’re first time dog owners, I do offer adoption counseling for anyone looking to adopt.”

Craig rubbed his neck. “Well… we’re technically not first time dog owners,” he admitted. “We had a small dog in our dorm room in college.”

Damien laughed at that. “Well I know you lead active lives, so I know that I won’t have to worry. However,” he said pushing his glasses up on his nose, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “if you don’t take care of your dog, I am duty bound to… hound you.”

Briar and Hazel groaned.

“How dare you dad joke us,” Andrew said. “That should be illegal!”

“Come now, dear friend,” Damien replied. “You of all people should know the value of a pun.”

“Anyway,” Craig said. “Whether we adopt a dog today or not, we’re here to volunteer. What do you all need done today, dude?”

Damien picked up a clipboard and flipped through the various sheets for a moment. “We need someone to walk dogs and we need someone to help clean out cages.”

Craig and Andrew ended up walking dogs for the next couple hours while the twins helped Damien clean the cages. Wrangling dogs was always a difficult task. Some dogs didn’t like each other, some of them couldn’t be trusted around other dogs, some of them couldn’t be trusted around strangers. They barked and pulled, some chewed on their leashes, some tried to hump each other, some pooped on the side walk and they had to clean it up while trying to keep whatever other dogs they had on hand under control.

At the end of their volunteering time, the twins dropped the question again. “Can we get one of the Burnese Mountain dog puppies? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssssssssseeee???????????”

“Hmmm… I don’t know,” Craig said. “What do you think, bro? Can they have a puppy?”

“Well, they did go through the month and they did help take care of the dogs here,” Andrew said. “What do you think, Damien? Can they handle a dog?”

Damien chuckled. “To the extent that any kids can handle a dog, I’d say that these two are better at it than most.”

Craig finally gave in. “Yeah, okay a deal’s a deal,” he admitted. “We can get either Fergus or Carl.”

The twins cheered, jumping up and down excitedly. When they finally settled down, they said that they wanted Carl because he was more playful and friendly. They bought several collars of varying sizes at the local pet supply store, puppy food, a big dog bed, a leash, an instruction manual on how to train a puppy to go outside, and a few toys.

“Well bro,” Andrew said as they were checking out at the counter to distract his bro from the climbing numbers, “we have a puppy. Just like old times, right?”

Craig grinned. “Yeah, bro. I was a bit nervous about getting another dog, but this is gonna be really good, especially for the girls!”

“You’re not worried about our upholstery or the state of our floors?” he asked.

“Come on, bro,” Craig grinned. “We’ve taken care of a dog before, and that was a in a dorm room. We have a house, now, and the girls will learn a lot from taking care of him. How bad could it be?”

#craig cahn x dadsona #dream daddy #ddadds #river cahn #hazel cahn #briar cahn #damien bloodmarch #craig cahn #Life is Good #fanfic

6 notes · View notes

aramkrikorian-blog · 6 years

Text

10-9-2018

waking up. tired. rain. rain on the boots. the boots are torn. shoes. are wet. leather shoes. uncomfortable shoes. comfortable shoes. the daily walk. walking in uncomfortable shoes. ears clogged. not sick. ears jammed up. sticking fingers into ears with toilet paper when in the bathroom. library. salvation army. need to take a piss. need to take a shit. bathrooms. looking for bathrooms. embarassed. look like shit. haven’t showered in a bit. lighters are dead. no flame for cigarettes. the rain. it ruins the cigarette shorts i collect off the ground. talking to myself. not really. lots of people doing real life following. they want me to participate in interactive games with the audience. im not a star. im not taylor swift. she shouldn’t do politics yet. she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. democrats. republicans. green party. lame . parties. people. birthdays. rain. dogs. leashes. masters. slaves. negative conditioning. positive associations. flashbacks. larissa. lory. jessica. ashkhen. hasmig. who and what happened and where am i. did the babies really get aborted. are people messing with my mind. the information. is it true. not true. ears clogged. i can barely hear sarcastic remarks. god is watching over it all. proverbs. Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife. peacock in the desert. seattle. pike street. pike market. prospect park. GAR cemetary. ducks. weird tattoo store. weird tattoo aesthetic. cornish college. security guards. smoking cigarettes. asking for cigarettes. not comfortable. SEATAC. orcas. the oceans. pier 70. pier 66. starbucks. starbucks reserve. st james church. gospel mission. millinair club. tweakers. not that many. many or not. not known. know nobody. alone. thoughts. suicide. Virginia Mason hospital. lutheran church. food. food under the bridge. housing help. library on 4th street. newspapers. news. 90 minutes of internet time. homeless resource guide. backpack stolen. all work gone. no more work to look over. wanted a house on frontenac. didn’t get it. went to ferrari dealership - you say you’re a gangsta but you never popped nothing. you’re a real wanksta. songs. curses. nirvana. cause i’ve found god - rethinking what i said about kurt cobain. he is dangerously not well in Lithium. sounds llike the psychiatrists put pills in him and he blew his brains out or heroine or the pain of his wife... she breaks mirrors. weird flashbacks. lorys brother was administerered lithium wh en i was administered seroquel. psychopharma DEATH TOLL. bodies keep stacking. kurt cobain. lithium. lake washington blvd - curt cobains house. i didn’t know. i did a free navigation of the city. i felt things, bro. now i regret what i said about kurt cobain. lady was wearing a nirvana song list tshirt. bruce lee and brandon lee’s graves. crows. bible... scarecrows. 3-6 mafia lord infamous used to call me scaRECROW what is this... where am i. same motifs. same symbols. used by different people at different times. 1 big symbolic soup. trying to make sense of it. untangle it. which came first the word crow or pigeon. beautiful pigeons. appearance of pigeons in ones timeline over time. typing in the library. ‘the kind of kind guy that won’t take no for an answer’ - wanting to buy a house on frontenanc and give it to brent and tim ... tim gave me an umbrella. brent hooked it up with cigarettes - lighter. they were good guys. lyft people circling around. feel guilt and shame resentment everywhere. saved by the dell poster. PRIVATE PROPERTY everywhere - including the seattle sports stadium ... safeco field? seahawks lose to larams - kendrick lamar. lemurians of mt shasta. greyhound... buses. the animals. a great dane takes a fat piss on 700 7th ave... the courthouse night, doing a speech. finding weed on ground smoking it. speaking at the school ... getting more weed. fed a larabar. ara. ara gets funding again in march. rosenstein is out? cohen is out? melania is in africa - visits a former slave in ghana. beautiful work. thank you mr and mrs trump. kushner? scooby dooby doo. airbnb ... valuations. memories. pains. people. upgrades and promotions. growth. new ideas. scholarships. college. essays. schools. making sure the kids are going to be safe. at least putting a line on the older ones and going to go back and ensure the road is well paved for the younger ones. newspaper room 6th floor. bathrooms on floor 7 of library also on floor 1... and maybe on 3 and 4.. .but not sure. haven’t been higher than floor 7 as far as i recall. lady in front of library - obese with lighter and cigarette - i ask her for a light she says “why are you chasing me?” - not a question. it is a question. it is something inside of a question. an accusation. a false accusation. a controversial, extremely controversial false accusation. it implies more. profile equivalent of a stalker. im not a stalker. a chaser. but i will become one if she wants me to. if the shoe fits ill wear it. or ill just wear it once and throw it away anyway. copy and paste this text and put it into a text to speech application and just listen to it ... let me know if it sounds good. borrow phrases from it. let it brainwash you. because it’s all real. really really really really real. kim and kanye. blessings. armenians. what the heck. little children in library walking around... happy looking. global warming. will it kill all the little children that look so innocent to my eye. and to my eye the world looks ok. but to the instruments... they’re reading something else. that’s how gas kills doesn’t it... it didn’t smell. it just killed. mount olympia. sculpture garden at the pier has a lot of gardners but a lot more dog shit. its impossible to sit in the grass. there was SO MUCH dog shit there. mcdonalds sued for a million dollars. dont do it. all these ridiculous articles on Medium. i joined medium but i cant even press a button to write. ridiculous. double daniels. daniel lives here. so does erin treg. ill try to not mention too many names i guess. maybe they can comment on posts and take them out. fuck ilya golub. fuck olga. fuck all those people. nikolai and m8s and ara and etc etc. let them live their lives but these are weenie people. someone should keep a permanent weenie hat on their heads. stop stuffing dicks into everyones head aram. stop it. note to self. exercise more discipline in the language that i use. lockwood... he was an author who blew his braINS OUT. but he was typing like an animal in the family garage. he released a book. i wish one day i can get back to literature reading again. i miss pynchon. i miss delillo. did they write any new books. are they still alive? im going to check google right now and trust the answer. dellilo alive. i heard roth died. 5-22-2018. wow . the number 22. number of hebrew characters in the alphabet. the number of arab league countries. 22 is a heptagonal number. which means 7 sided polygon number. who knows what that means. its just important. who knows. philip roth died on 5 - 22 - 2018. wow. i miss his work. american paradise or something or portnoy’s complaint. who was that guy. i remember being in oregon 4 years ago and digging deep into literature. is my brother dead? did shant eat a heroine shot? people on the bus were saying weird things. is my father dead? i don’t even know. i remember jolie writing things on the wall. like prophecy that turned into reality. maybe the whole thing was a joke. the name. keith. she used names. she said things. JR JR JR> what is JR.. it’s on the inside of larissa lip . who knows. maybe real or not. nick. wtf. heroine. fresno. people talking to me. gangs this that. greatful dead family. where are we. what is this. acid. meth. heroine. crack brillo pads. what is all this. what happened. where is everyone. dope shooters. not a lot of people left around - “ Cage The Elephant - Shake Me Down - YouTube “ urban dictionary. JR> some caring guy. larissa’s boyfriend. hope they’re still together. been talking out loud to her. sometimes i feel her. saw a lookalike of Lory. or i actually saw lory. maybe when larissa and i were in santa cruz.. we were being watched and played for fools. she kept saying she saw nicole. the aramark logo. the mark from seattle. the people out there. here. chris while. erin triggie. daniel ex of jessica. who knows what people do. say. where am i. what has happened to me. how am i homeless. what is this. what happened to me. i used to be an OG. lol. what am i now. can i even handle it. unlikely candidate. why do people even half respect me. what is going on. scholarships. colleges. high school kids applying for colleges. stanford early application this year is november 1... and the regular is january 2. i remember 2004 applying for fafsa and all that. scholarships. this that. getting accepted. man. SAT scores are still going. its insane how out of touch you get despite trying hardest to stay in touch. eventually the kids evict you themselves. couple library rats tried to trade me bluetooth headset for some molly in front of library and for some crystal. i said no to both. i saw mad guy tweaking dancing fuckin hard at millionair club today - i looked at him and said “brother i love you so i dont want to see you here, like this, ok?” - where is HOMIE RESCUE TEAM - what are we going to do? should we just laugh at this guy. should we just let him die off. should we kill him? what do you think? i have to read news... china and america. usa. and china. and korea. and russia. and some games and calm down and 110 billion dollar pump into USA. turkey and saudi arabia ... and pushing and shoving and ghana and america visits and angola 500 million president running to london who knows... where are we.. like flies buzzing around on The Blue Marble. what happened to sitting at home and enjoying one another in peace. where is my wife. why do i call her my wife. im forgiving people. im rescuing people. im saying im going to quit cigarettes. people look so shady. they look so protective over their assets. ive lost more than i think or know or can count or i dont know whats going on.

i wanted a ferrari 812 a portofino i saw was pretty i like the color rosso and i wanted a 488 spider and a home on frontenac and i wanted a powerboat like 70 footer or 77′ and i wanted to go to bahamas or caribbean and have sex with my wife and procreate and have children and relax and sleep and rest and have a home on 18 acres in snoquamish and all that stuff and have a Dodge ram 2500

just read about Satyrs for the first time. rams and satyrs and greece and dionysus and debauchery and Pan and apollo and challenging gods and losing and winning and secretive & lustful and wanting to fuck and permanent erection (piss boner) - very interesting.

also very interesting is the PT Barnum effect ... basically .. .have you ever had a boner? have you ever wanted to have sex with many women? have you ever flirted with a woman? h ave you ever challenged someone bigger than your own size (like David?) - who knows. Ram. Aram. Random Access Memory. bighorn ram. it was in a shooting game i played on hunting game on computer a long time ago.

gods .. shoot downs. being destroyed. FLAYED Alive. the Flaying of Tarsus. hubris. arrogance. humility. cold. hot.

there is this fucking idiot laughing in the library. this fucking tool idiot. he is in the library and he laughs like a clown. i wish joe pesci were here so he can jam and smash on the guy. but he’s not so if i do it. in front of the cameras. it will pr;obably get me into some sort of toruble. who knows. anyway.

iris murdoch. philip roth. thomas pynchon. all these people. time passes. pynchon delillo still alive still kicking.

birth days were the worst days. slowly getting over the doldrums. what is it called. weighing yourself down . idioms. expressions. the power of idioms. lists of idioms. lists of ethnic slurs. lists of sociological terms. lists of profiling terms. lists of lists. endless lists of words and referrents and objects and feelings.

Jimmy hendrix park seattle. the numbered avenues. Ballard. the draw bridges. the seaplanes. the boeing. the SAM . art museum. the fountains. the trees and parks. the lake washington. the lake union. the puget sound. the alaskan viaduct project. 4 months. all the little pieces of seattle. the 4 seasons. the goldfinch bar. the bars. the loyal inn. mark matthews park. he was a presbyterian minister. here we are. some guy still laughing so i told him to shut up bro that hes fucking annoying. then another guy joins in... he does a little goat laugh. so i fucken do a sheep laugh too. fuck these guys. play whack a mole all day.

seattle is amazing. minus these idiots in it. can someone genocide them. or get rid of their bodies tonight and feed them to the orcas k25 and k13 ? .. k13 is dead. k25 is getting skinny.

The latest official count is 77 orcas among the three pods. That reflects the death of K-13, a 45-year old female named Skagit.

the count of orcas is 77 orcas. i wanted a 77 or 70 foot yacht. i wanted to call it Septuagint. there are al ot of 7s in the bible.

oh Gosh. oh man. david reigned for 7 years 6 months. 76. 67. 6s and 7s. 42s. wow. and 7 male descendants of Saul hung before the lord. 7s. the 7 times 77 forgiveness.. yesterday the sevenfold punishments in leviticus. i like stuff like this alot.

7 for all mankind - i remember such days. the time is 12:12 Pm on 10/9/2018.

who knows these things ... the Lord is playing on all tracks concurrently. im less annoyed. i see all these defective personas in one day. i dont know why. but its getting better. people getting chin checked. a lot of people getting tagged.

the rats are getting smashed on worldwide. Meng. etc etc. interpol. this that. internationally. locally, domestically. the Great Awakenings. when we enter into slumbers and turn into zombies turn into psychic vampires. we need to clean the algae every once in a while or else there’s just bodies and piles of bodies of humans. we dont really care about the dead of the past. we really dont’ give a shit or dedicate any time to remembering or researching the dead of the past. a list of wars by death toll. largest natural disasters by death toll.

to have faith. to try to pray to God. to say im not here to destroy the catholic church. people say and come up with the worst and weirdest things. if you can only see this writing post you will see i hop around so many places.

a poison dart frog, a dog, a porcupine, a snake, a cow - i’ve been compared to such animals. after a while all the terms of endearment eventually get to me.. its annoying its not cute. people speak they did the worst things to me and im pretty done for trying to recover. maybe i will maybe i wont maybe someone will kill me or ill magically die.. it wont matter - i see that kurt cobain and bruce and brandon and jimmi hendrix theryre all dead and the stars are all dead the “stars” ... revelation says

Revelation 6:13 and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, like unripe figs

and the woman and the dragon and the red dragon ... and ir ead revelation and imagined myself as satan last year but i dont think so. i think the others are satan becasue they twisted my brains in and out.. and i cant wait for the rest of revelation to be carried out so that i can witness the end of the world. im very tired of how twisted and disgusting things have become.. im not just angry or wrathful.. i would like to actually see the end of the world... i would like to see Jesus im going to try and be ok until that happens. .. and its so sad that people are just.. .its so sad.

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Revelation+12&version=NKJV

love,

aram krikorian

0 notes