Doing between 3-5 birthday parties every weekend means I get to see a lot of different people doing different types of parties, and this includes Instagram style parties.
For the record as long as the kids are happy and safe, do whatever the hell you want. It literally doesn't matter just give the kid a happy birthday and everything else is irrelevant.
However if you are prioritising how your party looks to others over your kiddo on their special day, then it's a problem.
The frustration I feel over kids in expensive outfits who can't play incase they get dirty, or kids being torn away from games I'm running to take a thousand photos with their parents friends, or kids who clearly don't like whatever theme the parents chose yet the parents doesn't care because the party is more for their followers than their baby, is immense. I can't say anything, all I can do is try to make sure the birthday kiddo is having some fun.
But here's the fun revenge.
I have gone to so many 'white' and 'beige' aesthetic parties. You'll have seen them, all white aesthetic that looks amazing in pictures but is depressing as hell at a 6 year olds birthday party. There is an infamous set of white ball pits and white bouncy castles and white soft play that I constantly see rented out for these events.
You know what's great about those all white rentals? It takes one kid with a runny nose to make every picture of that bouncy castle look nasty. You know what my job is? To run birthday parties. You know what I have the power to do?
Have the kids run about getting muddy and dusty and filthy then send them all screaming into the EXTREMELY easy to stain bouncy castle and decorations and 'accidentally' make all the photos the parents are so concerned about look awful.
Yes it's petty but god lord is it hilarious watching then boil red with rage but not be able to do shit about it without looking insane because screaming at children for playing at a birthday party is generally not a good look
9 notes
·
View notes
☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.
about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.
“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”
sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.
if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.
“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”
“babe c’mon on, i was—“
“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.
the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.
“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.
but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.
cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”
your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”
“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”
“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”
“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.
and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.
something like you.
ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.
that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.
behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.
and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
4K notes
·
View notes