#you dont know what it takes to RUN a business @ google forms

[cetaceanhandiwork]

hi! i sent an anon ask to beesm'god about the adversarial feeling of advertisements, i think i sent it to her instead of you bc your anon was off? idr, i got brain problems.

anyway i dont have a very deep perspective into the ads business so yeah my envisioning of a two party tug of war was like, based on like, i guess youtube/google just obfuscating any other sides from each other bc they seem like they'd be influential enough to do that.

what are the parties that're standing off ?

so in the ads business, there are always at least three parties involved:

the advertisers, who have a message they want to get out, and money to burn on it

the publishers, who have an existing audience and want to make a buck on that audience without the audience having to pay that buck

the audience, whose attention the publisher is selling to the advertiser (pet peeve: there may be some audiences whose "personal information" gets sold but that's not google's business model; the personal information is a competitive advantage and google wants to keep that all to itself. it's just used to decide whose attention gets sold to which advertiser.)

in the modern era, there is often also a fourth party: the "network" or "exchange", which acts as a middleman and matchmaker between advertisers and publishers.

the audience usually has the least power in this chart. their only real option is to decide how they interact with the publisher: installing or uninstalling adblock,  dropping the pub entirely if they get too mad, etc.

advertisers, meanwhile, have a lot of leverage because they get to choose their battles. this leverage is proportional, not only to their absolute amount of money, but also their relative amount of money compared to other advertisers in the space. the less choice people have about whose money they take, the more influence the remaining people with money can exert. (raid shadow legends was able to earn its infamy, not b/c it was offering fat stacks for sponsored ad reads, but b/c it was selling sponsorships to publishers too small for anyone else to bother with.)

but the publisher (if they're big enough to work with advertisers directly) or the network (if there is one) also has leeway, b/c they get to choose what product (i.e. what sort of attention) they're offering to advertisers. they can compete on "I have an audience with such-and-such demographics", or “I have an audience that comes to me for such-and-such type of content”, etc.

and if a publisher is big enough, they always have the nuclear option of picking up their ball and going home... whether that means “taking their business to a different network/advertiser”, or “changing their business model to not rely on ad funding at all”. once again, if they form a big enough portion of an advertiser’s billboard space or a network’s inventory, this can force them to play ball. this type of leverage applies to a lot of things in tech; as a non-ads example, Twitter will probably never be kicked off the iOS app store for porn, because Apple knows that a Twitter exodus would actually cut into their userbase in a way that other smaller apps might not.

and yes, all of this is to some extent a matter of scale. google can tell small advertisers to accept its terms or go pound sand. but once you get into the same weight class - multinational corps vs other multinational corps - factors that are more structural than sheer “how big is your valuation” start to control.

okay. that all covered, let's come to the case of youtube specifically.

youtube's ads business originally had youtube as a network only. ads only appeared on content when the content's owner - the youtuber who posted it, or the rightsholding company whose music was used in it - has a deal with youtube saying "hey, run ads on my content and give me a cut".

this meant that, as a network, they had to find advertisers willing to run video ads on youtube videos. 

now, the vast majority of the video ads market - both in terms of “amount of money they have to throw around” and “amount of attention they want to buy” - is TV commercials. and TV commercials are produced by marketing firms whose concept of how ads work is... very 20th century, let’s say. they exist in a universe where you run ads just to make people recognize the word “coca cola” in a positive way, not to actually get people to buy a coke (because how would you even link the adview to the purchase?) their doctrine is focused on “brand recognition”, and as a result, they care a lot about “brand safety” - a nebulous industry term that basically means “will the place where my ad is shown make me look bad”.

for youtube, this meant that in order to court the TV commerical market and their giant piles of cash, they had to make their network’s rules such that publishers (at this point in the story, YouTube partners) could only run ads on “brand safe” content as seen through the eyes of someone stuck in the 80s. no drugs or tobacco, no “obscenity”, nothing “adult”. this used to be the situation where you heard about demonetization: big YT partners who are suddenly getting $0 for a video because they said something that an automated process thinks TV advertisers might find problematic.

so now that’s what advertisers on YT have been taught to expect about how their ads will be run. certainly any very large company running ads there will now demand it.

but now, in the interests of chasing the impossible dream called “endless growth”, youtube has stepped into the publisher role as well. for non-Partner videos, ads are still being run, but all the money goes to YT itself.

except... they already made the rules, and the rules are that advertisers can rest easy that the inventory they’re buying is “brand safe”. they can’t put “unsafe” videos back in the main inventory without risking losing the TV commercial people as customers. at best they would have to make a separate category for advertisers who’re willing to pay lower prices per view in exchange for running on questionable content... but if that did exist, you’d see much the same situation as ads on Tumblr: low-quality, perplexing outsider art, shilling for brands nobody’s ever heard of, which might be considered a win in itself.

now, could youtube simply ban all “brand unsafe” ads from its platform entirely? yeah, they could. but that would mean banning, uh, major news organizations like NPR because they sometimes run segments about ethnic strife or drug addiction... and it seems like they’re not willing to lose that type of publisher either, if only for fear of another video site coming along and eating their lunch.

so we’re in a weird, half-way space, where “demonetized” videos are maybe deprioritized for being recommended by the “you may also like” algorithms, but in the end they’re also being hosted for free, because YT is caught in limbo between large (corporate-scale) publishers who it can’t afford to be shopping around for a replacement platform, and large (corporate-scale) advertisers who as a bloc control youtube’s purse strings.

[quidfree]

prompts,.,, fem tdbk and a date gone very wrong ? ❤️

ohhhh my god anon. pump this shit directly into my veins i love this whole premise let’s go. also all inspired by whatever the fuck horikoshi was doing in this 

just so everyone is on the same page here, it is not a fucking date.

it’s lunch. a singular lunch. people do that shit all the time. even katsuki does lunch, sometimes. she went to that semi-shitty diner place with kirishima that one time when the food hall was shut because some dumbass first year exploded into goo or whatever. and todoroki does lunch, too- her and deku were on some shitty lunch date like a week ago, as evidenced by deku’s even shittier selfie of them having a grand old time doing whatever the fuck they do alone.

fuck, not a shitty lunch date. a shitty lunch. whatever.

the point is lunch is a normal non-date thing people do, and the fact katsuki and todoroki are maybe not the usual suspects for it is just circumstantial. it’s not like they planned it ahead of time, or made some big thing about it. they literally arranged for it in public, so obviously todoroki didn’t think there was anything weird about it. and there isn’t! they’re both going to be in tokyo on the same day, and todoroki’s always happy for any excuse to spend less time with her old man, and katsuki sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to avoid her hag of a birth-giver for a few blissful hours, so when todoroki had very nonchalantly gone ‘oh, bakugou, we could do lunch then”, it wasn’t like she had any real reason to tell her to go fuck herself. like, yeah, maybe a year ago, on principle, she would have, but even katsuki can only take so much trauma-bonding before she resigns herself to the reality that she’s stuck with half ‘n half for life, one way or another, and she may as well suck it up and approach civility because said moron is determined to ignore her open malice until she plays along anyways. they’re... you know, whatever. friends. or something. jesus.

the point being that it’s not a date, and the fact that she’s getting increasingly annoyed at her limited wardrobe is just because she would have packed more shit if the crone hadn’t insisted that they ‘pack light’ so they could get cheaper train tickets for less luggage. it’s just annoying that she can’t wear anything that’s not screaming holiday.

it occurs to her as she sits and scowls at her suitcase that her mother has been watching her from the doorframe for some undetermined amount of time, which is criminal mainly because she’s a goddamn hero-to-be and getting snuck up on by anyone is a blight upon her good name. she tries to disguise the ego damage dealt by glowering murderously in her progenitor’s direction.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“you know,” the she-devil says, cocking a hip, “if you want to borrow something nicer...”

“i wouldn’t be caught dead in your shitty clothes!” katsuki snarls, which prompts the witch to immediately scowl back.

“watch your damn mouth!”

“watch your waistline! no way in hell are we the same size!”

“why you little-”

the interruption at least reminds her that she is obsessing over her clothes ahead of meeting todoroki for lunch, which is so humiliating it kickstarts her brain again long enough to grab some normal shit and get the hell out of there.

on the walk she checks her phone again. the previous day she’d had to bite the bullet and make the first move, todoroki’s infamously terrible communication skills making themselves known once more, and their ensuing conversation had been so mortifying she’d nearly cancelled all-together.

to: Half ‘n half

Yo asshole are we still meeting tomorrow or what

I’m busy as shit

from: Half ‘n half

Yes. TS

to: Half ‘n half

What the fuck is TS

from: Half ‘n half

I was signing off.

to: Half ‘n half

SIGNING OFF ON YOUR OWN TEXT

YOU THINK I DONT KNOW YOUR DAMN NAME

from: Half ‘n half

[Pin attached]

Does here at 12.30 work for you?

to: Half ‘n half

Yeah whatever

Don’t be late

And don’t think I’m forgetting the fucking signing off thing

from: Half ‘n half

Glad you can make time for mockery in your busy as shit schedule.

the venue looks like some rich person shit, which she semi-expected, but it means a lot of people give her weird looks as she makes her way inside, probably on account of the shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing if not her general vibe. some old woman actually drags her purse to her, which makes katsuki sorely tempted to bare her teeth and maybe hiss for effect, though she settles for scowling and shoving her hands in her pockets. it’s 12.27, because she wasn’t going to be late but being any earlier would have given off some dubious impression that she’s eager to see todoroki, except now she kind of wishes she’d just come for 12.30 because if there’s some reservation bullshit she gets the feeling she’s going to start fighting with the waiting staff, and then-

“bakugou,” todoroki calls, from inside, raising a hand with unnecessary formality. “you made it.”

“course i made it,” katsuki grunts, absolutely not relieved as she by-passes the suspicious looking waiter to join her outside. “think i can’t ride the damn underground by myself?”

todoroki is wearing jeans cuffed at the ankles and a white t-shirt on top of which she’s thrown on an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and she looks casual and normal and incidentally kind of like they dressed to match, but the important part is that she doesn’t look dressed up at all, so katsuki was totally right about the non-date situation, and also isn’t the only one totally underdressed for the shitty venue.

“you look nice,” todoroki says then, completely shattering katsuki’s brief moment of reprieve. “i’ve never seen so much color on you.”

katsuki almost chokes on her own tongue, but the worst part is that the asshole seems completely nonchalant about the weird as shit observation, focused on her stool as she takes a seat on the balcony. which- what the actual fuck? since when does todoroki issue compliments unprompted- of the non-professional variety, at that? and what the fuck does she expect katsuki to say now- return the compliment? say thanks? is this whole thing some kind of exercise in psychological torture?

well, fuck it. she can’t look like a little bitch just because todoroki said something inanely positive. two can play that game.

“yeah. you look half decent yourself. did you hire someone to dress you for the occasion?”

todoroki blinks up at her in surprise, which is totally a win and would make her more smug if she could stop feeling so weird and prickly all over. for a dangerous moment todoroki seems on the verge of blushing, but miraculously the world rights itself and the usual deadpan persists, one brow quirking up in completely feigned ineptitude.

“there was a compliment somewhere in there, so thank you, i think. i thought we were past this vendetta.”

“we’ll be past this vendetta the day you burn your piece of shit hero suit,” katsuki retorts, back on familiar ground, and relaxes long enough to squint down at the menu.

this turns out to be a mistake.

“the fuck? is this whole thing in french?”

“oh,” todoroki says, after a beat. “that makes sense. i thought my english had deteriorated.”

“are you- you didn’t know? you recommended the place!”

“it was the nearest place to our hotel,” todoroki defends, now having the decency of looking slightly put out. “coq can’t mean what i think it means, can it?”

“that’s chicken, asshole,” katsuki hisses, flinging the menu down. “great, now we’re going to have to flag down one of the shithead waiters and ask for a japanese menu. excuse me! hey! yeah, i’m talking to- what the hell, did he just blow me off? hey, jackass! you with the shitty mustache!”

“sorry about that,” todoroki interjects, when mustache asshole turns an offended stare their way. “do you have the japanese menu?”

“we only serve the food in its authentic form,” mustachioed asshole says, with frigid self-satisfaction. “might i suggest google translate?”

“might i suggest my foot up your ass, you shitty-”

“that’s fine,” todoroki says, in a flat tone that implies otherwise. “we’ll make do.”

the waiter sniffs pretentiously as katsuki thinks about all the ways she could beat his ass into next tuesday, running an aggravated hand through her hair when the wind rustles it into her face. she’d half expect todoroki to suggest they fuck off elsewhere, but when she looks back her way she finds an ill-boding gleam of determination in her eyes despite the impassive set to her face, and it’s a testament to how fucked in the head ua has made katsuki that she feels a sort of sick thrill of recognition at the sight. todoroki’s in stubborn bitch mode.

“i’ll have this,” todoroki says, sure enough, pointing to the most expensive item on the menu. “and also this. and one of those.”

the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, and todoroki looks unfazed in katsuki’s direction, tapping pointedly at a sleek black and red credit card in her wallet. “bakugou?”

well, if endeavour’s paying....

“sure,” katsuki says, slowly, and then turns her meanest smile the waiter’s way. “i want the frog legs.”

mustache clears his throat, attempts condescension. “we don’t serve that here.”

“you’re a gastronomique restaurant,” katsuki says very loudly, as other clients turn to stare, “and you don’t have fucking frog legs? is this a joke? does this napkin say authentic french cuisine or am i hallucinating?”

“i can ask the chef,” the waiter demurs, casting a nervous glance at the muttering snobs nearby, and attempts an ingratiating smile. “anything else for you, mademoiselle?”

“what did you just call me?”

once the ordering debacle is over, todoroki slants katsuki what may well be an apologetic glance, vaguely contrite frown sitting pretty atop her usual dead-eyed stare.

“i probably should have read up on the place ahead of time.”

katsuki is well within her rights to chew her head off, she thinks, but food’s on the way and she got to yell at the asshole who gave her the once-over when she came in, so she’s feeling forgiving, even in the face of todoroki’s annoyingly doll-faced apology. the bitch really has to do the bare minimum and she looks like a fucking kpop idol.

“yeah, whatever. i always knew you were a shitty ops planner.”

todoroki, who is an asshole, looks relieved at her generous forgiveness for all of a second before she quirks a brow. “between the two of us, i only count one person who has actually spoken the words ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.”

“that was in a training simulation,” katsuki protests, outraged. “and you know damn well the actors were annoying as shit!”

“i did find them slightly too committed to the role,” todoroki concedes neutrally, which totally means she agrees with katsuki 100% and is being precious about it. katsuki scoffs.

“least the view’s decent.”

“the-“ todoroki starts, in weirdly confused tones, until she follows katsuki’s gaze outward and nods in understanding. “oh, the skyline. yes.”

what else katsuki could have meant she doesn’t fucking know: they’re sitting pretty in the middle of tokyo. the only thing the hellhole of a restaurant has going for it at this point is the cityscape.

todoroki stares out into the distance for a good long moment, and with the breeze her negligently loose hair whips this way and that, red and white blur where the two halves mingle. instinctively katsuki itches to braid it flat so it doesn’t tangle. if todoroki asked her she’d tell her to just cut her damn hair into a bob or something- it’s not like icyhot has any attachment to her princess hair, and she’s got the obnoxious bone structure to pull off any length. not that she’d mention this last part. or that she’s given it much thought. it’s just fucking obvious.

if todoroki could keep her mouth shut throughout the rest of the meal, it could be sort of nice. tokyo skyline, and companionable silence, and presumably edible food. worse ways to kill some time, and way less incriminating than anything that may be said otherwise.

“i think this is the part where we make small talk,” todoroki says instead, sadist that she definitely is, as katsuki grimaces feelingly her way.

“no, we don’t.”

“well, we don’t. but this is the part where we should.”

“i don’t even believe you can last a minute of small talk, icyhot.”

todoroki looks pensive, mismatched eyes thoughtful. “...how has your day been?”

“uneventful,” katsuki says, combative, and eyes her watch. todoroki does not give.

“this place seems nice.”

“you don’t even think that.”

“how have you been finding tokyo?”

“noisy.”

“the weather seems-”

“no.”

“you look nice.”

“you said that already, dumbass,” katsuki grunts, palms crackling with sweat, and does not at all read into the way todoroki makes a stupid little movement with her mouth that could ungenerously be interpreted as a pout.

“well, i meant it, so i’m saying it twice.”

“give it up, half ‘n half, just ask me about training.”

“...how is your training?”

“i did this thing yesterday,” katsuki starts, leaning back in her chair, and from then launches into a very technical and barely exaggerated retelling of the batshit insane stunt she pulled off with her quirk the day prior. todoroki’s focused attention is gratifying, in a totally platonic non-weird way- it’s just that her parents couldn’t very well follow why exactly said stunt was as insane as it is, but todoroki obviously can, and also there’s that thing with todoroki where pulling a reaction out of her ice queen act is admittedly more satisfying than most people. it has jack shit to do with the fact katsuki’s got a very minor complex about todoroki paying her her dues, and even if it did then that’s entirely fucking reasonable considering she still hasn’t forgiven her for the sports fest incident. 

it is a little weird having todoroki’s sole focus on her outside of hero shit, though. it’s not like they really hang out one on one outside of school or work. it’s kind of- unnerving. yeah. unnerving, to be making prolonged eye contact, todoroki’s expression intent but not intense the way she gets in fight scenarios, frowning lightly because she has resting bitch face but apparently genuinely interested. it’s kind of a relief that todoroki asks questions- moves them safely into a conversation, so katsuki’s not just sitting there talking and sort of dry-throated. fucking waiter, leaving them water-less.

it’s fine. they talk about training, and quirks, and then todoroki pushes her hair behind her ears and leans forward to demonstrate on a small scale this thing she’s trying to do where she melts her ice and refreezes it in rapid succession so it causes what is essentially ice rain, but there’s logistics and shit that need to be worked out for it to work the way she’s thinking it might, and katsuki knows her thermal shit so they start scrawling maths over the napkins, and then bicker over the finer points of first year chemistry, so when the food actually arrives to interrupt them todoroki’s startled blink is weirdly relatable, like she also forgot where they were.

the waiter’s there and gone before they’re really recovered from the brief misplacement, which katsuki registers only when she looks down at her empty glass.

“goddamnit- how hard is it to bring us water?”

“they only offer sparkling,” todoroki says, gravely, then outpaces katsuki’s disgust by placing her hand over her glass, ice rising before she switches hands and melts it down. “tell me if the temperature’s off.”

intensely mollified and trying not to look it, katsuki sips it. “’s fine.”

“okay,” todoroki says, faintly pleased, and tilts her head to look down at her food. “i have no idea what any of this is.”

“moron,” katsuki snorts, except it comes out way fonder than it has any rights to, and from beneath the convenient curtain of hair todoroki’s smiling a little, so she hastily stabs a frog leg and gets to eating before anyone gets any ideas.

the actual meal goes okay-ish. most of the stuff todoroki ordered is extremely pretentious french cuisine, and todoroki secretly has the culinary adventurousness of a five year old, so it befalls katsuki to impatiently attempt every dish and pronounce it edible before todoroki will deign to brave it. she’s still trying to bully an unyielding todoroki into attempting the weird bird soup thing when there’s commotion nearby. it takes the both of them approximately three seconds to spring into work-mode; katsuki’s on her feet poised for a fight before she’s even consciously thought about it, scanning her peripherals, and she doesn’t even need to look to feel todoroki unconsciously covering her back, cool sting of air signalling her quirk at the ready. 

the commotion turns out just to be some old dumbass choking, relaxing them both out of their stances as she falls back to let todoroki ahead. they’re both uber-qualified for first aid shit, but she’s self-aware enough to know even todoroki’s bland reassurances are usually preferred to her bedside manner. unfortunately, the whole entourage seems to be braindead, because they’re all crowding the old guy in a panic while he chokes, his wife in shrieking hysterics.

“oh, my god, he’s choking! he’s choking! sugar-plum, stay with me!”

“fuck me,” katsuki mutters, unethically thinking that she would personally prefer choking to being married to someone who calls her sugar-plum, but todoroki’s pushing ahead with implacable calm, so she trudges after her anyways.

“excuse me. excuse me. i need access to your husband.”

“who are you? don’t touch him! help! get this woman off my husband!” wailing hysteric yells, bosom heaving dramatically. katsuki is starting to suspect she poisoned him on purpose or some shit, because no way does anyone talk like that in real life.

“she’s a fucking qualified first aid provider, lady, shut up and let her through!”

thankfully, the woman seems on the verge of an outrage aneurysm, which drags her focus away from suffocating her choking husband to dramatically pointing at katsuki long enough for todoroki to duck past her and reach the guy as he turns purple.

“how dare you speak to me that way? who do you think you are?”

“ma,” chinless moron number one says, clearing his throat. “i think that’s one of those future pros from TV.”

“what?”

“you know, ma,” chinless moron number two adds, glancing nervously between them. “the one that explodes things. you know. from UA.”

katsuki takes great pleasure in watching recognition dawn in the old cow’s beady eyes, but in any event there’s a hacking noise and then the old man’s coughing out a bone into his plate as todoroki steps noiselessly back from the table.

“he’s fine now. enjoy your dinner.”

“god, that was gross,” katsuki says, as they ignore the woman’s sputtering and return to their seats. todoroki tilts her head. 

“not really. if he’d thrown up it would have been.”

“not the choking guy,” katsuki scoffs, casting a glance back his way. “his wife. talk about theatrics.”

“she seemed more afraid of us than her husband dying.”

“for good reason,” katsuki mutters darkly, spreading out in her chair. “i hate civilians.”

“i don’t think she recognised us,” todoroki counters, pensive, and absent-mindedly takes a bite of the weird soup before she screws her face up like a betrayed kid. “oh. you didn’t say it was sweet.”

the look on her face thoroughly distracts katsuki from asking what other reason the pearl-clutcher could possibly have to be so terrified at the mere sight of them; instead, she chokes back a laugh, stifling a grin. “what are you, five?”

“i don’t think i like this,” todoroki says, mournful, which makes katsuki grin harder. she can’t help it- todoroki looking stupid is her kryptonite. 

“then don’t pick a restaurant where you can’t read the menu, next time.”

todoroki’s midway to looking up, but for some reason her expression transforms instantaneously, which makes katsuki reflexively try to quash her amusement. todoroki always gets weird when she’s smiling. 

“next time?”

motherfuck. obviously she didn’t mean next time like next time, she meant next time like- hypothetically, in the future, when todoroki’s on a lunch date with someone else. a lunch non-date. she’s just about stopped sputtering furiously long enough to try and express this sentiment when it occurs to her that todoroki seems- pleased, one eye soft sky-blue when katsuki accidentally meets it, and that draws her up short long enough that she ends up just muttering lamely to herself. fucking todoroki. 

on the heels of this utter embarrassment, she downs the rest of her water, scowls in a neat 180 at everything in sight, and wonders for the first time in her life how the fuck extras get through dates. not that this is one.

it’s fine. they’re done eating, and no one’s died, and katsuki is no longer fifteen and thus mostly trusts her ego to lick its wounds and recover from the ordeal. even if they stick around for desert that’s only another half hour of this to endure. as long as todoroki doesn’t make any sudden moves they’ll be fine.

...the problem is, of course, that sudden moves are todoroki’s modus operandi. katsuki has not forgotten the bitch calling them friends on national television in the same breath that she was vociferously denying them being anything of the sort. in todoroki’s fucked up brain, they’re always ten steps ahead of whatever they actually are- considering katsuki’s come around to privately acknowledging she’d take a couple more stakes through the gut for the asshole, in todoroki’s world they're practically hitched.

platonically. platonically practically hitched. this is not a thing, goddamnit. no matter the weird looks aizawa’s been giving them, or utsushimi’s nefarious schemes, or the alarming cardiopulmonary condition katsuki’s been developing of late. she’s not some shitty yuri protagonist pining over the nearest female bishōnen in her vicinity.

admittedly if she was to pine over anyone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be some guy, but that’s besides the point, since pretty damn near every person on earth is just some guy by her standards, regardless of gender. the fact that todoroki is not one of said people is entirely irrelevant.

her internal irritation is so distracting that she misses the tremors nearby until entirely too late, by which point todoroki’s stupidly perfect brows raise an incremental fraction and she goes: ‘oh’.

when todoroki goes ‘oh’, some shit is about to go down. 

katsuki turns slowly with an impending sense of doom, and sure enough, the sight that greets her is so nightmarish she seriously reconsiders whether the entire day has been just that. 

“don’t freak out,” a giant building-sized deku booms, apologetically, as his hideous giant face stares at them. “it’s just a quirk thing.”

it’s probably a good thing katsuki has gone speechless with outrage, since it permits todoroki’s constantly composed ass to ask useful questions katsuki probably would have coated in a fair amount more threats and cursing.

“midoriya. i didn’t know you were in tokyo.”

“well, i wasn’t meant to be,” deku says/booms like a foghorn, as the restaurant clientele shrieks and stampedes behind them. his sheepish expression is even more punchable when magnified. “it’s a long story. it’s almost sorted out now, though. i just saw you guys from over at the NPA office and thought i’d come ask if you maybe wouldn’t mind lending a hand? i wouldn’t ask but there’s going to be a lot of cleanup and your quirks would be really helpful to-”

“we’ll do it as long as you shut the fuck up,” katsuki yells, to cut him off, massaging her temples. “the monologuing’s bad enough when you’re not about to burst my fucking eardrums, jackass.”

“oh, sorry! i’m trying to be very quiet but this body’s just hard to get used to- thank you so much for helping, i didn’t mean to come bother you on break...”

“it’s fine,” todoroki says, and then seems to realise that her monotone doesn’t reach midoriya’s giant-ass ears and clears her throat, raising her voice to a shout. “it’s fine. let me go deal with the bill and then we’ll go.”

“sorry?” midoriya whisper-shouts, craning his monstrous head closer to them, the sight of which will haunt katsuki for the rest of her life. “i can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“she said she’s going to go pay for our nice fucking lunch,” katsuki hollers, with no small sense of satisfaction, as deku winces and todoroki slinks off. “since you want to come crashing it like a dipshit.”

“sorry, kacchan!” deku begs off, flapping hand gestures creating enough wind to knock over a nearby umbrella stand. “i just thought it would be a lot of help if you came to oversee the fall-out- especially with the building damage-”

“we’re good,” todoroki announces, to katsuki, apparently having given up on matching her in decibels. she’s got that classic hero look on her face, already in work mode, but just when katsuki’s about to do the same and jump into action, the look wavers a little and she frowns vaguely awkwardly. “thanks for doing lunch.”

“huh?” katsuki stutters, thrown, and then scowls at nothing in particular, stalling. todoroki’s the one who paid, albeit indirectly- it’s typically weird of her to be all formal about it all of a sudden, leaving katsuki to attempt to wriggle them out of the awkwardness of the moment. “i didn’t do shit except show up and eat, weirdo.”

“it’s been abnormally hard to show up and eat in the circumstances,” todoroki replies, a little wryly, and more concerningly a little resigned sounding. which is just unnatural, because todoroki may have expanded her range of emotions considerably since first year but resignation is not on her usual roster, and there’s nothing to be resigned about unless she had some kind of vested interest in this whole fiasco playing out any better than it did.

which she didn’t, obviously. katsuki’s been through this. she chose the nearest possible venue and rocked up in jeans and a t-shirt, and- and why is the fact that todoroki never dresses so normally out of class only now occurring to her, again?

she’d said ‘i think this is the part where we do small talk’. the part of what?

“yeah, whatever,” katsuki says, automatically, as her brain plays catch-up, which is the excuse she will forever stick to for what leaves her mouth next. “should have known you’d be a lousy date.”

todoroki goes ‘what?’ at the same moment deku does, ten times louder and more bug-eyed, which reminds katsuki that 1) deku is still there, 2) deku is still as big as his martyr complex, and 3) deku is the fucking worst, and allowing him to trap her into friendship is somehow responsible for this, she’s sure of it. 

“can we go handle this fucking mess or what?” katsuki snaps, instead of screaming or breaking deku’s very large nose or maybe self-immolating in abject humiliation, hands erupting into explosions as she jumps onto the balcony railing. maybe if she throws herself headfirst into the debris she’ll concuss herself and turn amnesiac. 

“um,” deku is saying, when she turns a withering glare his way. “um, yes! yes! yeah! let’s go do that!”

so she jumps skywards, explosions blasting her high into the air, and very scrupulously does not look towards the sounds of slick ice forming just behind her until todoroki skates into her peripheral vision, hair waving flag-like behind her. ahead there’s a building with a crater clean through it where deku must have erupted from, though when she turns to comment she finds him a fair deal behind them, lumbering pace slowed further as he avoids stepping on anyone or anything along the streets. instead her eyes lock on todoroki’s where the latter is staring at her, face unreadable, and she bristles hard enough to disrupt trajectory, correcting course rapidly before she plummets into an office.

“what?”

“i’m a lousy date,” todoroki repeats, neutrally, over the wind. katsuki grits her teeth.

“and what about it?”

she’s bracing for a lot, but not the horrible, sickening eye-crinkle thing todoroki does, dark eye twinkling even as her expression stays carefully impassive. “you think you can do better, then?”

“hah?”

“next time,” todoroki intones, very precisely, and then dips ahead like a complete coward as katsuki goes a color never previously visible to the human eye, sifting through about fifteen emotions before she decides to stick to outrage.

“what the hell? you suck at asking people out, icyhot!”

“you don’t have to say yes.”

“what, you think i can’t do better than this mess? you’re on, asshole.”

“i look forward to it,” todoroki says, gravely, and then there’s a collapsed building to handle and shit to do and if anyone wants to ask why katsuki is so especially gleeful in blowing shit up they wisely keep their mouths shut. she just likes the job, all right.

(for the record, it’s still not a date until katsuki says it is.)

#qui repond #qui ecrit #anon #prompts #tdbk #todobaku #fem todobaku #fem todo #fem baku

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part three

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: we got some spicy things happening this chapter folks!! a lot of natasha too and plot and a tiny bit of fluff at the end. i hope you enjoy!! let me know what you think. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one | part two

Mrs Shoreditch had agreed to meet you at the cafe you’d been inhabiting daily as you kept watch on Steve’s shop, and you’re waiting for her now at your usual table with unusual trepidation. Your leg is bouncing under the table, you’re darting looks left and right down the street trying to catch sight of her. You have to finish this job - seeing Bucky last night confirmed that. Looking into his friends and his life feels wrong, and you want to end it as soon as possible. It’s none of your business unless Bucky wants it to be.

She’s late, one o’clock ticking by and then some, anxiety hiking with every passing minute. The file on her husband sits unremarkable on the table in front of you, and you drum your fingers against it unconsciously. The sooner this meeting is over the sooner you can move on with your day, maybe go see your dad, take on some normal clients who don’t have eery connections to your personal life and keep you up at night.

Someone approaches the table and you’re about to feel relieved, until you look up and instead of seeing Mrs Shoreditch apologising for her tardiness you find Natasha standing before you. She blocks out the sun, a ring of red wisps escaping her ponytail lit up like a halo behind her head but the calculating look in her eyes is nowhere near angelic. She looks nothing like the girl you met at the party - gone is the sundress, replaced by an outfit weirdly similar to yours. Leather jacket, skinny jeans, Docs and chipped black nail polish you catch as she wiggles her fingers at you in that same, condescending wave.

“Natasha?” You can’t believe she’s caught you, but you’re technically not doing anything wrong right now - you just feel like you are, with the way she’s looking at you like a ‘gotcha’ moment not gone your way.

Natasha nods, smirking, and says, “What a coincidence.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, but you know neither of you believe it. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Steve,” she says. It takes everything in you not to glance over at the tattoo shop, giving yourself away. You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes trained on hers, furrowing your brows in an approximation of confusion. She waits a beat, you don’t think you’ve convinced her, but then she says, ”He works over there.”

She jerks a thumb to the tattoo shop and you nod, following her finger with bone-deep relief. It doesn’t last long, tension eating it’s way back up your spine as she asks, “What about you? I haven’t seen you here before.”

Been here every day, lady, you think, but say with a tap to the folder on the table, “Work. Meeting a client.”

“Oh?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t question you further, but that in itself is suspicious. Everyone always presses for more with your vague answers - client? For what? Announcing you’re a private investigator kind of ruins your confidential reputation so you often have to work a lot harder than this to keep your work life private. Natasha doesn’t press it, though. Like she already knows. Dread curls low and heavy in your gut.

At that moment, Mrs Shoreditch finally shows up. She doesn’t seem harried, out of breath, or concerned she’s late in any way, shape, or form. She takes the seat opposite you, offering you a smile and placing her ridiculously expensive handbag on the table. With blonde hair tossed over one shoulder, to your absolute horror she looks up to Natasha and smiles at her, too. Recognition, as Natasha returns it.

“You should come over to the shop when you’re done,” Natasha says to you but it sounds more like a demand than a request, shattering the silence with a sledgehammer. You’d miscalculated, somewhere. Something isn’t right.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, making eye contact with Mrs Shoreditch and hoping Natasha understands. You hardly think Mrs Shoreditch would want you going in there after you reveal that’s the place her husband has been shovelling her money into for months. Mrs Shoreditch avoids your gaze, however, picking at her perfect manicure. It clicks, then. You’re so fucking stupid.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha says, ignoring what you said entirely with a sparkle in her eyes that doesn’t bode well for you. She crosses the street, gone in a second, and you turn back to Mrs Shoreditch as a numbness creeps into your veins.

She’s a typical socialite, perfectly up-kept in every aspect and dressed to the nines even for a rubbish cafe in Red Hook. You didn’t think she was capable of hoodwinking you, and maybe that’s where you first went wrong. She finally meets your eyes, apologetic and almost tearful. She reaches a hand out, resting it on the file you’d prepared as if she realises last minute trying to touch you is a bad fucking idea.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, “I’ve been wasting your time-“

“Natasha hired you to hire me,” you say, cutting her off with the coldness in your voice. She nods mutely, retracting her hand back to her lap as if burned. “You already knew about Mike’s other bank account.”

“Yes,” she admits, rolling her lips together. At least she has the decency to look ashamed. “Ms Romanoff said she’d pay off an instalment of Mike’s debt if I hired you, and I- I didn’t ask questions. I’m so sorry, you seem lovely-“

You don’t wait to hear her finish, standing from the table and leaving your useless file behind without a second glance. You head across the street, for the first time approaching the front door of the tattoo parlour. Natasha knew you’d come here eventually, knew you’d see Steve and start putting dots together. She baited you here, but why? You were Bucky’s fuck buddy, nothing more. Why play this game at all?

You take a deep breath before shouldering the door open, entering the permanent twilight of the shop you’d come to know so well through the lens of your camera. It’s cool in here, the street noise dampened so all you can hear is pop-punk playing low through speakers and the buzz of the tattoo gun. Steve is at the back, bent over someone’s arm and doesn’t break concentration when the bell above the door rings, announcing your entrance. Natasha waits, however, hip propped up against the counter and smiling as she sees you stop at the door, not daring to enter further.

“What do you want?” you ask, calling out across the shop. It draws the attention of the two guys in leather, Steve’s regulars, sitting on the couch in the waiting area. They eye you suspiciously, as does the kid who mans the cash register you often see doing homework instead of his job. Natasha pushes off the counter, beckoning you to the back of the store where you know Steve’s office to be. You follow, heart in your mouth, aware you’re walking further into the trap you hadn’t even known had been set for you.

Natasha closes the door behind you and takes a seat at the desk, covered in stencil designs and files which she seems to entirely disregard as she crosses her feet on top of them, dirt smears be damned. You sit in the chair opposite, back ramrod straight with how uncomfortable you are, and wait for an answer.

“You’re smart,” she says, which is not what you were expecting. You blink, confused by the compliment, and Natasha smirks. “And a lot more observant than Bucky gives you credit for.”

“It’s my job,” you say, unsure of what to give away. Obviously she knows you’re a private investigator or you wouldn’t be in this mess, but she doesn’t know what you know. Not yet, anyway.

“I know,” she says, inclining her head, “I googled you.”

That makes you uncomfortable. Bucky doesn’t even know your last name, how does she? All that she would’ve found is your business website because you’re not stupid enough to put your life online, but still, the thought that she had been trying to look into you makes your blood run cold. You’re starting to really regret going to that party with Bucky - if Natasha’s weird behaviour then wasn’t a tip off, then your deep-dive into their secret lives has clearly shown you there’s a lot more to Bucky than he was ever intending of letting on. Natasha’s intervention in your job merely confirms what you’d already figured out.

“Why did you get Mrs Shoreditch to hire me?” you ask. Natasha regards you for a second, thinking, and it’s a look that reminds you eerily of Bucky.

“I wanted to see what you’d find,” she says. You feel your jaw clench, despite yourself - she’s being evasive even now, and it’s like she can read your frustration because she smiles then, says, “And I wanted to see if Bucky’s choice to trust you was a wise one.”

“He doesn’t trust me,” you say, defensive, too quick. She raises her eyebrows. Frustrated at this cryptic and frankly dramatic conversation, you ask, “Can you just tell me what you want? You’ve wasted weeks of my time and I think I deserve to know why.”

“As I said,” Natasha said slowly, clearly amused at the rise she’s managed to get out of you, “I want to see what you found.”

“Are you going to pay for it?” you snap. You don’t want to tell her - you don’t know why. Clearly, she already knows far more than you ever will, but this is the only thing you have over her and it feels like the most important thing in the world in this moment.  

Natasha rolls her eyes and says, “You’ll be well compensated, don’t worry.”

You have a small stare off with the red head before you huff, conceding. That was a fight you were destined to lose, anyway. You grab your laptop from your bag and send a quick email of everything you’d collected to Steve’s business email. His monitor pings with a notification and and you raise your eyebrows towards it, watching Natasha unfold her legs off the desk and lean forward to start reading. You don’t trust her with your laptop as far as you can throw it, so you make sure it’s shut down completely before placing it back in your bag.

Natasha reads for a long time, because you’d found a lot. Her eyes dart across the screen almost too-fast, the set of her mouth growing tenser and tenser as each silent minute passes. You feel a weird, sick sense of satisfaction at that - clearly, you’d surpassed her expectations.

You had been thorough. Pictures of Steve, the kid working the counter, the regulars who park their bikes at the back, the bikes themselves, the inside of the shop from your window vantage point, Sam at one point, Natasha at others, meetings they held and rough angles of deals gone on inside the shop. You couldn’t get a clear shot, but you saw them exchanging money with leather-clad strangers for something. The long hours after closing they spend at the tattoo shop doing everything but tattooing is all captured and saved on your computer. You’d written up a run-sheet of the shop’s routines as well, based on what you’d observed from your little cafe spot - Natasha spends longer looking at that then anything else, mouse hovering over the word you’d written at the bottom. Gang?

You’d researched them all, except for Bucky. He never appeared at the shop while you were watching it, and it gave you the perfect out to leave him alone in your investigation. Steve and Sam had wrap sheets longer than your arm, and Natasha notably had nothing online at all. None of them had social media, which is weird, and the only photo you could find dated back to a highschool cross country picture of Steve and Sam, first and second medals respectively. You refused to look for Bucky. It made you sick just thinking about what you’d find on him, so you decided you just didn’t want to know. Not like that, behind a computer screen in your apartment with a bottle of red-wine half gone beside you. Bucky doesn’t belong there.  

You could have kept digging, given more time. It had been eating at you, though, consuming the hours you were supposed to be sleeping and waking you up when you finally closed your eyes. It didn’t matter how much you found, ten more questions would arise from it, and you were becoming obsessed. So you decided to end it. Clearly, you’d come to that conclusion a bit too late.

“Bucky doesn’t know your last name,” Natasha says, suddenly, shocking you enough to flinch. She doesn’t look away from the screen, but goes on, “He doesn’t know you’re a PI, where you live, what you do in your spare time. He knows noting about you, but he doesn’t seem to care. I told him that was stupid.”

You swallow past the hard lump in your throat. You knew Natasha hadn’t exactly warmed to you at that party but you hadn’t expected this level of- what would you even call it? A threat? You feel threatened, a metaphorical knife to your throat as Natasha finally looks at you again, pinning you down with a cold green stare.

“He’s not in any of this,” she says, tapping a fingernail on the keyboard to emphasis your research. It’s not a question, but you know what she’s asking.

“I wasn’t hired to look into Bucky,” you say, refraining from adding because I have self control and I don’t need to invade his privacy to have sex with him. “Anything I need to know, I can get from him.”

Natasha is silent for a long time, staring at you, and you don’t dare look away. This, too, is a test. After god-knows how much time has passed, she stands and you do too, hurrying to grab your bag and meet her at the office door she holds open for you. Conversation over, you suppose - you’re starting to get used to Natasha’s cryptic ways even if they piss you off beyond belief.

“Delete everything you just sent me,” she says. You scoff, rolling your eyes at her, but she stares you down with the darkest, scariest look you’ve ever received from someone who’s a head shorter than you. You think about that word you’d written in your notes, gang, after one too many red wines and thinking back to the way Natasha looked at you when you described them all as a family. Maybe you shouldn’t argue with her, given everything you’d experienced today.

“I’d cover that window if I were you,” you say, instead of answering. A muscle ticks in her jaw but she says nothing else, so you take your leave. Steve waves awkwardly as you go but you ignore him, shouldering out of the shop and practically running down the street.

Energy burns in your muscles that you can’t seem to get rid of, even as you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment which takes over an hour. It’s anger, you realise, fisting your hair and pacing around your apartment like a crazy person. Uncontrollable rage at being played with, tested at every turn, and for what? You never asked to be a part of this game. You’d never done anything but exactly what Bucky asked and it still wasn’t enough.

Your phone begins to ring, Bucky’s name flashing across the screen, and with a scream of pure frustration you throw it full-force into the nearest wall. It makes a dent in the drywall, falls to the ground and the impact shatters the screen but that won’t stop it vibrating uselessly against the floorboards as Bucky rings and rings and rings.

You won’t pick up. This time, or ever again. And not just because you’ve now fucked your phone beyond repair, either. You never asked to play this game, so now you’ll take yourself out of it.

***

This is exactly why you keep yourself so guarded - cutting people out is easy when they have nothing to hold onto. You change your phone number when you go to get it fixed, and it’s like Bucky never even existed. He doesn’t know where you work, where you live, and you don’t go back to any of the bars you went to with him. It’s easier than breathing to remove him from your life.  

The same cannot be said about removing Bucky from you.

He’d crawled inside your ribcage and stayed there, burnt a cigarette hole in your heart to claim it as his and you hate that. You never allowed him to do that. So he might not be physically in your life anymore but he’s still there, a ghost of a hand on your throat and an ache that might mean you miss him.

His friends are crazy and he’s in a gang, you tell yourself daily, like it’ll help. Like you believe it even slightly. It’s better this way.

“You’re quiet, kroshka,” you dad says, handing you a cup of tea. You remove your thumb from your mouth where you’d been gnawing at a hangnail to take it, smiling up at him in thanks. He doesn’t go back to his armchair, though, rather kicking a cushion off the couch to sit beside you. You dip with his added weight, closer to him, and he allows you to rest your head on his shoulder while you both blow on your teas in unintentional tandem.

“Kroshka is tired,” you mumble. He clicks his tongue at you, which is fair. Shit excuse, anyway. You sit up, twisting to face him, and ask, “How do I know if I’m overreacting to something?”

“With you, overreacting is baseline,” your dad says, grinning as you slap him on the arm. He takes a sip of tea and says, “Tell me.”

“No,” you say, aware you’re being a brat, but what are you going to say? This woman tricked me and she’s smarter than me so I cut the guy I like out of my life because I can’t let anyone in or I feel like I’m going to die? Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.

“Well,” he says, giving you an unimpressed look, “If you’re questioning whether you’re overreacting, I would say there might be some truth to the feeling. It’s not like you to be unsure, though. Are you sure everything’s ok?”

“Yes, papa,” you sigh, going back to leaning on his shoulder. He might have a point. “You’ve just raised an idiot.”

“I did no such thing,” he says, placing his tea on the side table to pull you into a hug. You feel small, like you’re a little girl again, and you close your eyes against your father’s chest. Maybe you can just stay here and forget about the mess you’ve made of your life. He rubs circles into your back and says, “You’ll figure it out.”

“Ya lyublyu tebya, luna,” you say softly. I love you, moon. You’ve been saying this since before you can remember, your dad whispering it into your hair when he tucked you in at night or you calling across the playground when he’d drop you off at school. In your secret language so no one else knows, a message just for him - from you to your entire world.

“Lyublyu tetbya bol’she, zvedzdy,” he responds, kissing your hair. Love you more, stars.

He sends you off with a bag of donut holes, an obvious reminder you’re both not actually Russian but New Yorker to the bone, and you eat two on the subway ride home while you think. Deleting Bucky from your life is instinct, protection - he’d gotten too close. But really, when you allow yourself to examine the tight knot of feelings sitting in the base of your throat, what’s making you run is guilt.

You crossed a line, investigating his friends. You pried into the life he very purposefully kept you away from and you’d changed your number not because you didn’t want Bucky contacting you anymore, but because he might decide not to and you couldn’t live with watching your phone for a notification that would never come. Natasha will have told him everything by now, probably even showed him, and he’ll never trust you now. You’d blown it. You could be angry at Natasha for baiting you into doing it, but she never would have felt the need to if you had just been honest.

You stuff another donut hole in your mouth to stop yourself from crying. It works only a little bit.

The apartment feels colder, lonelier than it ever has even though being alone was what you thought you wanted. It just allows you to think of Bucky some more, curled up on your couch with the bag of donut holes now empty on the coffee table, sniffling into the sleeve of your hoodie. His smell, the way he always runs hot, the callouses on his hands probably from working in his garage you’ll never get to see now. Stubble, short-shaven hair, tattoos all down his left arm you never gave proper attention to. You can’t remember them all. Just the star, red and big in the middle of his deltoid. You thought you had more time.

“Fuck it,” you say, fishing your phone out of your jeans pocket. Bucky might not have your number anymore but you have his. Maybe if you just called him and heard his voice for a second, just that rumbly ‘hello,’ it might scratch the itch driving you insane. Before you can dial though, you get a notification from your banking app - a deposit from a new contact.

Natasha Romanoff jumps out at you, stopping your heart in your chest. Does she have a sixth sense for any time you so much as think about Bucky? She’s transferred you an obscene amount of money, and it takes you far too long to realise she’s paying you for the Shoreditch case that turned out to be one giant trust test you spectacularly failed. The reason you’re being a pathetic mess alone in your apartment pining over a guy who, as Natasha said herself, doesn’t even know your last name. Get a grip, Jesus Christ.

You open up the notification just to check it’s real and she really did triple the quote you’d given Mrs Shoreditch. That’s when you read what she’s written as the name of the transaction - an address for somewhere in Queens. You should probably at least think about jumping up, grabbing your jacket and practically sprinting from your apartment to an address sent to you by someone you’re 99% sure is part of a biker gang, but you don’t. You have a pretty good idea of what that address means, and curiosity is your biggest vice. Natasha’s sending you a cryptic message and you might not quite understand what it means just yet, but you’re certainly not going to ignore it.

Half an hour later you’re standing across the street from White Wolf Mechanics, hiding in the gaps between street lights and watching Bucky fix up a motorbike. The three huge roller doors are all open, letting light spill out onto the street as well as the thump of a baseline from a song you recognise, because you showed him it. Natasha sits on the work bench cross legged, scrolling on her phone and occasionally handing Bucky tools as he asks for them. He stands, wipes his hands on his skintight black t-shirt and says something into the depth of the shop. Sam appears, grinning wide and tossing a greasy rag at Bucky’s head which he catches easily.

He seems well, and that makes you happy. It’s only been a couple of days since you last saw him but it might as well have been months from how much you’ve spiralled. He might not have even noticed you’d separated yourself from him, and that thought makes you sick. You should go. You need to go. But your feet carry you across the street, jogging into the shadows so they don’t see you. You’ll hear his voice and then you’ll go.

You linger by the farthest roller door from them, sticking outside the pool of light and half-hiding behind the wall of the shop. You can still see them, though, Bucky’s face now turned towards you as he learns over the bike. Brow furrowed in concentration, and you want to smooth out the dent between them with your thumb but that’s not for you anymore. It never was.

“Have you talked Sam about it?” Natasha asks Bucky. You watch him glare at the part he’s holding in his hands and his whole body stiffens. He keeps his back to Natasha so you can see the anger play across his face clear as day.

“What’s there to tell?” he snaps. “You’ve taken care of everything, fuck what I want, so what’s the point?”

“Cut it out, James,” Natasha snaps back, “You know I was protecting you.”

“When did I ask,” Bucky grits out through a clenched jaw, throwing the part to the ground so the clang of metal on stone echoes out onto the empty street, making you jump. He balls his fists up at his sides and says, “You were out of line.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says evenly. She unfolds herself from the table with an unfair amount of grace and steps behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky sighs, shoulders curling in and tension leaking out of his body. You want to hug him, but you will yourself to stay where you are.

Eventually, Bucky shrugs off Natasha’s touch and says, like a moody teenager, “Whatever.” Natasha rolls her eyes, watching him go back to work on the bike with a bit too much aggression that is strictly necessary. She hands him the part he threw silently, and it takes him a beat to unclench his fists and take it. A peace offering, you suppose, in Natasha’s strange language. She doesn’t go back to the workbench, rather staying by Bucky’s side despite his annoyed grumble.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she says, “You proved me wrong, and I’m not too proud to realise that. I am sorry.”

Bucky looks up at her, as confused as you feel because where the fuck did that come from, and says, “Proved you- have you completely lost it?”

But Natasha isn’t look at him anymore. She’s looking at you.

Busted, you think, and you consider turning around and running before Bucky can see you. It’s a bit late for that, though, so you step into the light of the shop and halfheartedly return Natasha’s welcoming grin. It takes Bucky a second, snapping his fingers in front of Natasha’s face like he’s worried she’s actually gone in insane before he follows her eyeline and lands on you.

You’ve never seen Bucky shocked before, but he looks it now as for the second time the spare part he’s holding hits concrete with an ear-grating clang. You flinch at the sound despite yourself, and that seems to shock Bucky back into action. He whips around to glare at Natasha, pointing at you as he does.

“What did you do,” he demands. Maybe coming here really was a bad idea after all.

Natasha, ignoring Bucky completely, walks over to hold out her hand for you to shake. I’m lost, you think, as she says, “Let’s start again. I’m Natasha, James is the only family I have and I’m neurotically protective of him. He’s right to trust you, as much as it pains me to say I’m sorry for meddling in your relationship.”

You don’t take her hand. You’re not entirely sure you want to forgive her just yet, even if she did extend the olive branch to get you here. You fold your arms over your chest and say, “Next time, if you want to know something about me, just ask.”

She quirks an eyebrow at you, retracting her hand back to her side and you hate the way she always seems to be laughing at you. Natasha ducks her head, smirks, and disappears into some back office without another word. It’s just you and Bucky, the body of a bike between you as well as the weight of all the things you never said that’s all out in the open now. You’re looking at each other like you never have before, eyes open to the vast chasm of secrets you’ve both been keeping, and for the first time since you met Bucky you keep your distance.

“So,” he says, folding this arms over his giant chest. Not fair, you think, as his biceps flex against the tight sleeve of his t-shirt. Bucky averts his eyes to somewhere beyond your head and says, “You’re a private investigator.”

“You’re in a biker gang,” you reply, mimicking his folded-arms tight-lipped expression. He raises his eyebrows in a silent touché, and now that it’s out in the open you feel something inside you break off, slide down the tense hunch of your shoulders until you feel weightless. You should want to lock up tight, keep Bucky out because he’s gotten far too close already - you should use this blight as an escape. Somehow, though, having Bucky see you like no one else really has doesn’t feel as scary as you thought it would. Maybe because you have something of him, too, tucked against your head and healing that metaphorical cigarette burn. A secret for a secret. You can work with that.

“You changed your number,” Bucky says, and he’s walking over to you now. Guard dropped, hands by his sides, pinning you in place with his eyes on yours for the first time in what feels like centuries.

“I was scared,” you say, coming out more like a breath than a sentence, too transfixed with Bucky being so close to you when you never thought you’d get this again. He smells like car oil and sweat, but you’ll take any gross combination over nothing at all. He places his greasy hands either side of your neck, pulling you closer so practically standing between his legs.

“You know,” Bucky says, rubbing his thumb over the protrusion of your collarbone like he’s trying to turn your brain and legs into jelly, “Nat doesn’t have a high opinion of a lot of people. She means a lot to me.”

“She’s terrifying,” you say, and Bucky throws his head back in a laugh that has you grinning like an idiot. That sound settles warm in the pit of your stomach, spreading through all the dirty guilt and fear you’d been living in for the past few days. Biting your lip as you sober slightly, you say, “I’m sorry for prying, I should’ve just-“

“Don’t,” Bucky says, stern, shutting you up pretty effectively. “I’m sorry Nat is a nosy bitch-“

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice comes from the back office, startling you both into laughing even as Bucky turns to face the door with a murderous glare on his face.

“Don’t you have anything better to do!” Bucky yells, voice thundering through the echoey garage. He waits few beats for absolute silence, neither of you convinced Natasha had actually left, but it’s the best you’re going to get. He turns back to you, small smile on his face so at odds with how rough and messy he looks. Hulking muscle and scars and tattoos and you should be cautious, should be running, shouldn’t be letting him back you up until you hit the wall and he can pin you there with his hips pressed into yours.

But you’ve never been one to ignore something as intriguing and mysterious as Bucky Barnes, no matter how dangerous it might be. Bucky slides one hand up from your neck to splay across your jaw, fingers pressing almost too tight into the soft skin, and you should run from this, too. A reminder, a promise, a warning. You let him.

“Are we even?” Bucky asks, mumbled into the minuscule space between you. You can’t find your voice so you just nod, and Bucky cocks his head to the side as he asks, “You can still leave, y’know. I’ll understand.”

“No way,” you say with a vigorous shake of your head, probably too quickly if Bucky’s amused smirk is anything to go by. You shut him up real quick with a roll of your hips into his, watching with a sense of victory as his expression darkens and he tightens his grip on you. You say, eyebrows raised, “I’ve still got way too many questions.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks, but he’s not got his full attention on what you’re saying anymore, too busy using his grip on your jaw to tug your head to the side and kiss up your neck, warm and open-mouthed with just a bit of teeth.

You nod your head towards the bike he was fixing before, drawing his attention for a second as he flicks his eyes in its direction before resuming his trail of bruising kisses. A bit breathy maybe, you say, “Ever fucked someone on a motorbike before?”

“Absolutely not!” you hear a male voice practically scream, and soon enough Sam is practically running out of the back office with a smirking Natasha on his tail. “This is our place of work! It’s sacred!”

“Go home, Sam,” Bucky says into your skin, still loud enough for them to hear but he doesn’t get off you. You’re blushing, making eye contact with Bucky’s friends and wishing the ground will swallow you whole but Bucky just digs his teeth into the crook of your jaw and grins as he watches your eyes flutter shut. This mixture of embarrassment and unadulterated horniness is making your brain short-circuit.

“My eyes!” Sam cries as Natasha grabs him by the wrist and drags him from the garage. Not without a wink sent your way, and you’ll find time to be humiliated by that later. Right now, you’ve got Bucky’s mouth on yours to contend with and it’s going to take all of your attention.

Part 4

~~~

let me know what yall think of this part!! THANK YOU

#bucky barnse x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #11 hours #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #reader insert fic #pov fic #pov #avengers au

[collegecoward]

Hey, so I graduated this past May and since then I've just been working 40 hours a week. I feel like I need to go to college to do something with my life but I feel like theres so much in my way and I havent done anything to even start and I dont have a clue what I'd want to do. I'm so unsure on how to do anything regarding financial aid or even applying to colleges. I'm also worried that it wouldn't work with my schedule for my job. I work 5 days with 2 off days and I'm on evenings so I feel like I wouldn't be able to balance work and school, but I would have to bc I'm my only financial support. Sorry for the dumping my problems, but any advice?

How To Do College 101

Congratulations on your graduation! Working a full-time job after graduation (during a freaking pandemic, no less) is no small feat either, and I applaud you for that, too. Once upon a time, I was like you: I didn’t know anything about college except that I wanted to go, and now I run a blog telling people how to go to college. College might be strange and unfamiliar now, but in time, you will learn how to do it! 

This might be my longest post, so strap in for a fun ride!! My answer comes to you in three parts:

How To Do Community College

How To Do University

How To Do Financial Aid

P.S. I’m going to say this only once, but feel free to ask why: Do not attend a for-profit college. Okay, now onto the basics!

How To Do Community College

I encourage you to read my Ode to Community College. Community colleges are real colleges designed for people who are low on funds, are working or have other responsibilities, don’t know what they want to study yet, and/or don’t know how college works yet.

Step 1: Applying

Community colleges accept anyone who applies, and the application is usually just like filling out a job application, but you will also need to send in your high school transcript, and I recommend sending any test scores. Your college may have you take a placement test to see if you’re ready for college. If you’re not quite ready, they may have you take some pre-college courses in English or math before you officially start a degree program.

Step 2: Choosing a Degree Program

Among other things, community colleges award associate’s degrees, which are essentially the first two years of a bachelor’s degree at a four-year college or university. You’ll take introductory classes like English, math, science, and social sciences, as well as electives (i.e. fun classes). Here’s a list of programs that might be offered at your community college.

Step 3: Taking the Right Classes

Make sure you stick to your college’s degree plan so that you take classes that 1) count toward your associate’s degree and 2) will transfer to a university. Most classes you take for an associate’s degree (AA, AS, or AFA) should transfer to a bachelor’s degree (BA, BS, or BFA) easily enough, but sometimes universities aren’t very transfer-friendly. The best option is to transfer to a university that has a partnership with your community college, which is information you should be able to find on your community college’s website. If your community college doesn’t have any partners, you’ll want to research the transfer policies at the universities you’re interested in and follow their guidelines on what classes to take.

Step 4: Transferring

In your last year of community college, you will apply to a four-year college or university for your bachelor’s degree. You’ll need to pick a major when you apply because for the next two years, that’s what you will be studying. Make sure you tour the university before you attend and get acclimated before your first day! 

How To Do University

Whether or not you attend community college for the first two years or enroll directly into a four-year college or university, you’ll want to understand how to navigate the basics as early as possible.

Step 1: Exploring Your Options

Use my Self-Reflection Toolkit and this quiz from Marquette University to explore potential majors. These are just meant to get you thinking and guide you as you learn more about yourself and your interests. This process will take time to research and figure out, and if you enroll directly into a four-year college you can change your major after you apply. As I mentioned, the first two years are mostly basics and figuring stuff out, so either way you have time. 

I was very bad at choosing colleges to apply to and applied almost at random. I learned a lot from those mistakes, and on my FAQ page you’ll see me trying to impart that wisdom on others. I recommend doing your research, going on virtual tours, and getting used to just looking at college websites, even if you don’t know what you want yet. Start by window shopping for colleges in your state and see what they have to offer you. College Board also has tools for finding a college that fits your needs. It’s worth starting as early as possible, and I know that you can do it. Like I said, I was really bad at it and I still made it through.

Step 2: Applying

Applying to a four-year college will take more steps than a community college application. Many colleges require letters of recommendation, essays, and application fees (look on their websites for fee waivers). More information is on my FAQ page, of course, but be prepared to complete these steps before application deadlines. Each college sets its own deadline, but if you want to go next year, you’ll likely need to apply by January or February. Applying can be daunting, but you will need to do it at some point, even if you go to community college first. 

Step 3: Finding Resources

Access any and all resources your university offers, which will include advising, counseling, career services, and more. The same is true at a community college, but I would argue it’s even more true at a university. You might find out about internships, research opportunities, fun events, and all that stuff that excited you when you saw it on your university’s website! Even if you don’t feel like you need resources, you’re paying for them, so you might as well use them! Often people won’t know how to help you unless you tell them you’re struggling, like how you told me what you’re going through and I wrote a post that’s turning into a short novel! (I’ll be done soon, I promise.)

Step 4: Taking The Right Classes

Just like at a community college, you want to make sure you’re taking classes that count toward your degree and interest you. Make sure you’re following the prescribed degree plan on your university’s website and communicated by your advisor. If you find that you’ve chosen a major that doesn’t fit your interests, make sure you speak with your professors, your advisor, and anyone else whose opinion you trust.

How To Do Financial Aid

Step 1: Understanding The Basics

There are three major types of financial aid: loans (money you have to pay back after you graduate), grants (government money you’re awarded based on your financial need that you don’t have to pay back), and scholarships (money from a college or other source that is awarded for any reason that you don’t have to pay back). Loans might come from the government, your college, or a bank. I recommend borrowing from the federal government because the interest is so low (basically, it’s cheaper to pay off than a bank loan).

Step 2: Filling Out FAFSA

If you want to go to college next fall, or if you just want to do a practice round, fill out FAFSA now. I’m assuming you’re under 24, so you will need your parents’ tax information even if they’re not going to help you pay for college. Filling out FAFSA will never, not ever ever ever require you or your parents to take out any loans. Rather, FAFSA gives you access to any need-based financial aid you might be eligible for, whether that aid comes from the government or not. Loans agreements are a totally separate form, and you can take some loans without your parents’ help. If you’re not eligible for FAFSA, check whether your state or college has its own FAFSA alternative.

Step 3: Reading Your Award Letter

After a college sends an acceptance letter, they will also send a financial aid award letter. The letter will show you how much you’ve been awarded in scholarships and grants and how much you can take out in loans from the federal government or the college itself. You should compare your financial aid amount to the total cost of attendance, will you can find on the college’s financial aid webpage. The total cost of attendance is how much it costs to pay for tuition, fees, housing, and a rough estimate of your other living expenses. Basically, it’s how much it costs to be a student for one year.

As you said, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to work 40 hours while maintaining good grades, so may need to be frugal and creative to fill in any gaps financial aid didn’t cover. Private colleges tend to have a really big “sticker price,” but may offer generous scholarships as discounts, whereas public colleges tend to be cheaper and may have (large and small) scholarships to help you pay.

Step 4: Applying

In addition to the scholarships that you may be automatically awarded if you meet certain criteria, your colleges may also have scholarships that you have to apply for by yourself. This information will be located on a college’s financial aid webpage. There are also scholarships from nonprofit organizations and businesses. Visit my resources page for info, ask people you know if they’re aware of any scholarships, ask your boss and coworkers, and ask Google for “scholarships in [your town].”

Okay, I threw a lot at you, but those are the basics as I see them! You can totally do this. It’s going to be a big learning curve, but the payoffs will be big. And you can always come back here for more advice and reassurance. I’m proud of you already for thinking of your future and doing what you can to support yourself and your learning.

#application #apply #appblr #major #community college #transfer #financial aid #student loans #scholarships

[hansolmates]

vernon; blossomed (m)

feat. tattoo artist!vern x flower shop fem!reader based on nonnie’s big brain

genre/warnings: flangst, lang, wild generalizations of how tattooing works, gratuitous love for side characters, mild drinking, phineas and ferb references, mild foreplay

word count: 12k

Vernon called you his Rose. 

Not exactly his Rose, because you were definitely not anyone’s property and he wanted to give you nothing but your full autonomy, but it’s because he’s never had the chance to ask for your real name. 

But when he first spotted you in the little lavender and honey colored flower shop across the street, you were tending to the rose bushes at the front entrance. You were cutting roses and you didn’t look utterly graceful, in fact you stabbed yourself more than once with the thorns. He couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed when your co-worker had to hand you a new bandage every minute. 

He decided then that he liked you, even if it’s not wholly sexual or romantic, he liked you. 

Or maybe he just liked the idea of you, the way you’d lounge around in the canopy swing with your boots tucked under the seat, fluffy yellow socks wiggling out in the sun. Sometimes you’d read a book, sometimes for well over an hour. He liked how you soaked up the heat and created your own little world, happily unproductive. 

It was only a seven meter walk from the flower shop to the tattoo parlor, but the view from his front window required zero walking distance and a sure-fire lack of ever bumping into you. 

“Vernie’s got a crush on the Flower Girl,” Yoongi sing-songed, chugging along a box full of random-ass materials that Vernon was supposed to clean in the morning. 

Vernon scowled, and swatted away the older one’s hand when it dived in front of his face. 

Yoongi whistled like he was an old-time animation, singing the day away. “Vernie’s stalking his crush.” 

“I’m not stalking,” Vernon snapped, swiveling around in his rolling chair. “that involves shit like literally following her around,  photography, I dunno, being a weirdo?” 

“You definitely qualify for one of those.” Yoongi replied tartly, and he fought the urge to grin when Vernon finally turned back to the window, only to narrowly miss your form. The swing was now unoccupied, the only thing remnant were your working boots lined up against the entrance. “It’s been what, two weeks? Just ask her out already.” 

“You think I would’ve done that by now if there wasn’t a reason why?“ 

Soooo you were dating someone. Some super tall, super handsome guy would stroll up to the flower shop every morning, coffee in hand. Before you’d take your proffered coffee, he’d pucker his lips for a good-morning kiss in repayment. Vernon looked back to Yoongi, who was staring right back at him and confirming his suspicions that yes he was being a fucking weirdo for paying attention to things like that. 

Yoongi pressed his lips together, puffing his cheeks out in slight irritation. “So you’re stalking a taken girl,” he whistled lowly, “should I regret hiring you?” 

“Not funny.” 

“As repayment for effectively creeping me out,” The older one slipped his hand into his electric yellow windbreaker to twirl Vernon a ring of keys. “You’re closin’ up for tonight.” 

The brunette’s jaw dropped to his lap, and he got up from his spot by the window. “What? What happened to Minghao?” 

“Sick,” Yoongi shrugged. 

Closing up meant that Vernon had to stay until 12AM, at the very least. The area was off a college town and that meant a lot of young lucrative artists would stop by pretty late, hence the closing time. Usually Yoongi and Minghao were the night owls, but tonight Minghao was supposed to fly solo because Yoongi landed a last-minute recording gig. “C’mon, can I at least close early?” Vernon whined, “it’s summer. No one’s here.” 

“What, ya gotta date or something?” Yoongi smirked, swinging the entrance open. Halfway out the door, he added loftily, “don’t forget to water Patricia. It’s been two weeks.” 

The door slammed and Vernon was left alone. He spared a glance at the window, only to see that your boots were now gone from the patio and only one light was on in the shop. Vernon turned to his company for the night, their jade succulent, aptly named Patricia Planty. 

With Patricia Planty watered and a stomach full of Wendy’s nuggets in his body, Vernon busied himself up for a grueling five hours. Thankfully he brought in his laptop, as if he were expecting Yoongi to pull a fast one on him tonight. He drew some random things on his tablet: rockets, stars, the occasional squirrel, and roses. When he was tired of drawing, he’d blast the speakers off the joint and mess around with some of his music programming. When he was tired of doing both, he’d vegetate on the couch and read Reddit articles. 

It was past eleven when the first customer of the night stumbled in. Vernon fought the urge to groan, putting down the pen of his tablet on a particularly intricate constellation. 

“We’re closed!” He yelled through the office door. A white lie, but who would know? 

“Google said you were open until 12!” A voice yelled back, sounding slightly strained. 

Crap. Vernon lowered the volume and pushed away the swivel chair, swinging the office door open. With a rough clear of his throat and hoping not to look like too much of a jerk, he faced his customer, “Welcome to Nu ABO—” 

It was you. Cheeks ruddied, and your eyes glassed with a fresh glaze of tears. Your lower lip worried into a wobbly frown. Vernon’s Reebok’s glued to the concrete of the parlor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. The smell of mulch and a mixture of flowers penetrated his nostrils, but it did nothing to distract the utter hurt etched on your face. 

“Um, hey,”  his voice was gentle, yet unsure. “What are you doing here?” 

You just looked at him, incredulous. Vernon could have sworn he saw your left eyebrow twitch. Of course, you’ve never met him in your entire life, yet Vernon felt like he knew you since the beginning of your summer work. “Gettin’ a tattoo.” You replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, rubbing away a stray tear. 

He didn’t want to say it, but Vernon sighed and reasoned, “But it’s just that, ya kinda look—” 

You brushed past him, going straight into the artist room and plopping on the worn leather chair meant for customers. It was still high up because Vernon was cleaning the underside of the metal, so you had to do a little hop to get on. “I don’t care what kind of design. I looked up your Yelp online and everything looked pretty good.” And you then proceeded to unbutton the top of your blouse. 

“Holy shit,” he bounded over to you, grappling his fingers between your shirt before you could undo the rest of it. His breath was probably hot and heavy, compared to yours which was fresh from the cool summer air. Your faces were so close, closer than he ever fathomed. He didn’t think you two would meet this early in the year, as he was emotionally preparing to visit your flower shop at the end of the month, making up some spiel on how he needed to purchase real roses to replicate a commission. Not now. Now was a spontaneous episode, where he was trying to refasten your shirt and ignore the petal pink lace of your bra baiting his eyes. 

When he sensed that you would in fact, stop taking your shirt off, he backed up. “It’s just that, after eleven we don’t really apply tattoos. We just take consultations.” He tried to sound defeated, rubbing the back of his neck. Again, another lie. But Vernon wasn’t about to ink you on the spot, especially when you looked like this. 

“Is it because I’m upset?” You cried, “because I assure you, I’m in the right mind!” 

He winced, lolling his head back and forth. “That’s debatable.” 

You frowned, “C’mon, I have money. Just do me this one solid.” 

“What? No, you don’t even know what you want!” Vernon was exasperated. Not that he imagined the first time meeting you would be a walk in the park, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting to argue with you. 

"Don’t you want to be part of my spontaneous young life? Give me a tattoo that I’ll think about with my children 30 years from now?” He would laugh if you didn’t look like you were crying a river ten minutes ago. “As long as it’s not a tramp stamp, because I don’t think I can pull that off—" 

"Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?” Vernon blurted out before he could regret it. 

Your face morphed into something Vernon couldn’t understand. Pain, for sure. But a sort of relief knowing that you didn’t have to hide it. “Damn,” you give him a tired smile, “does the whole town know or something?" 

You cried again. This time, Vernon reacted quicker. Pulling out a Wendy’s napkin from his flannel pocket, he proffered it to you. He was thankful you didn’t question whether it was clean or not (it was!) and you proceeded to cover your snot and tears all over it. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" 

You sniffled and blew a particularly large chunk of snot before you shook your head. 

"Do you… want fries?” He gestured to the small table in the room, which had some leftover fries from his combo. “I can heat ‘em up in the microwave." 

Due to the fact that you ran out of tissue room, you rubbed your face with the entirety of your sleeve. You peeked out mid-rub, and replied with a soft, "hell yeah I do." 

His heart twitched. Even betwixt your teary expression, you were so freakin’ cute. He shuffled back to the office, nuking the leftovers in the microwave until they were piping hot. Vernon waited a bit for them to get cool, and fiddled with the music so a soft R&B playlist bounced off the walls. He couldn’t believe you were here. Scratch that, he could, because you were bound to run into him one day due to pure proximity. 

But he didn’t imagine you’d be plopped in his artist room at 11:32, bleary eyed and shoving potatoes in your mouth. 

Vernon busied himself with his phone, and typed a hasty you wouldn’t believe what just happened… to the employee group chat. 

[June 11, 11:33PM]

Bo$$ man: dont tell me u put aluminum in the microwave AGAIN

Hao hao: the chinese mafia came for me, didnt they? good thing I called out 

Jeonghan is a prick: use your resources! sharp items are everywhere :) emergency money is under Patricia’s table

Bernie: tf is wrong w all of you 

Bernie: SHES HEREEEEEE

"M'sorry,” you mumbled with a mouthful of fries, breaking Vernon from his mid-text crisis. He felt his phone buzzing like hell as he shoved it in his pocket, but ignored it for the sake of you. Your previous high of emotions has long worn off, and now you were looking a little embarrassed as you fixed your gaze on the empty container of fries. Your face is blotchy and red, and you’re especially puffy due to the salt you just consumed. “I should go home." 

He didn’t want to be intrusive, but the look on your face showed it was clear that you didn’t want to go home just yet. Drumming his fingers against the metal table, he casually suggested, "Why don’t I do your back?" 

You looked at him like he was crazy. "You still wanna tattoo me? After I cried like an idiot and ate your fries?" 

"You’re not an idiot for being upset. And I offered you my fries.” He pulled out an ink canister, and a thin needle. “This is temporary ink we use to practice, or for customers who wanna test out the look. Lasts one to two weeks. And y'know, it’s a nice distraction." 

You looked skeptical, unsure of his kindness. "Why my back?" 

He shrugged, "It’s the biggest canvas. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it." 

Still, you’re not convinced. There was something strange about him, something almost too sweet. While your schema may be marred by television and movies, the man in front of you didn’t seem like he quite fit into this little shack. He’s full of color, in his eyes and in his stature, his words clean and pure as he tries to soothe your aching heart. And as much as you tried not to check him out, you spotted no tattoos on any viewable part of his body. 

"And it’s kind of cathartic, really.” He watched your lips quirk up in a smile at the word usage. Not only sweet, but probably smart. Your first smile all night. Cheeks effortlessly heated, he continued, “you kinda just let go into the feeling. And it’s always fun to not know what’s been drawn until the very end." 

You’re curious. There’s excitement in your vision as he gestured to the available cot, inviting you. "Alright. Ink me up." 

Vernon grinned, and started preparing the workspace. Handing you a medical gown, he quickly shuffled away to prepare the ink and needles. He didn’t really work with the clients as deeply as this, he was really just a glorified secretary that took care of the consultation. While he washed his hands, he heard the faint rustle of fabric, definitely your shirt and bra. He turned up the temperature of the water, acutely aware of how hot his hands were getting. 

"Um,” your voice is muffled from being pressed up against the cot, your face presumably propped with pillows. “So are you Yoongi?" 

"Nah, I’m Vernon.” He wheeled over a cart full of supplies, the metal clanging against the concrete. “’M usually the guy who wipes the sweat off his brow." 

You hummed your own name in response, resting your cheek in the plushness of the cotton pillow. There’s a number of sounds paired with the R&B in the background. The smack of Vernon putting on gloves, the click of the needles and the slickness of the balm Vernon has applied on your back. His touch was warm, as his palm crescents across your back to soothe the balm into your skin. He then wiped it down with a paper towel until your skin was smooth and dry. 

"Any ideas yet?” He asked, and from the corner of your eye you see him switch out a needle for a new ink pen. 

“Maybe, stars?” Your voice is muffled against the cushions, as you’re hugging them close to your body. “And maybe something inspired by Spiderman? I liked that new one with Miles, he’s a cool one." 

You could hear the smile in his voice, "I liked that one, too." 

You stuff your own smile in your pillow, how embarrassing could it be that this stranger can make you feel better so fast? Mingyu would be groveling if he saw you now, topless, letting a man ink you up in however way he wished. "Will it hurt?" 

He chuckled at that, "Nah. The ink will sit on top and sink in, I barely have to apply any pressure. Just relax." 

Under the discretion of Vernon, who offered you fries and liked Spiderman, you relaxed. The first stroke of the needle and you were a goner. You closed your eyes and let him do his thing, You couldn’t tell what exactly was going on through his mind as he was painting your back, but you could tell his art was rather cacophonous: stiff pokes here and there, smooth strokes, and wide breaths of ink staining your back. The ink melted into your skin, bonding to your cells under Vernon’s careful control. 

It was almost 1AM when he finished. He tapped your back, urging you up. Tired, and slightly dazed, you sat up. You realized a little too late that you’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, the straps having fallen midway through the process. The air was cool against your skin. 

Vernon totally would’ve gotten a complete view of your sideboob if he wasn’t blushing like a maniac and looking away, and you respected that. His arm is punched out, fisting your button down. You hastily snatched it away, and turned around in order to look decent. 

“The ink won’t show up fully for another six hours, so until then let me know how you like it.” 

“Thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully as you do the last button of your blouse, and pulled out your phone. “Do you accept Venmo or Cashapp?” 

“Oh, yeah.” He accepted the proffered device, and put in the necessary charges. 

Once he gave back your phone, you added a sizable tip to the price he typed up. “The time really flew by,” you noted the time on the corner of your phone, 1:07. “It was really, an experience like you said.” 

He shrugged, and threw you an easy smile. “I try.” 

"Can I get a real tattoo from you someday? Y'know, when I’m ready?" 

"Ah, no. I’m not really under the apprenticeship.” He looked bashful when he said it, as if he were caught doing something wrong. “I just work here for the part time money. I do art on the side, though.” 

You had the urge to ask what he doesn’t do on the side, but it was late and you were probably holding up the poor guy for your trivial questions. “Regardless, I’m still thankful it was you that did this for me.” 

In three strides, he opened the small door for you. “My pleasure. Have a good night. Or, morning. Or if you’re one of those people who don’t consider it morning unless it’s light out, then good night?” 

“Good night,” you giggled, “get home safely.” 

“You too.” 

The screen door slammed shut behind you, along with the main door. Your car is parked in the grass patching of the flower shop. You jogged over, and the summer air made you shiver, your back still raw and warm under Vernon’s touch. 

You couldn’t wait until the flower shop closed. 

If Wonwoo noticed that you moved the porch swing relative to the placement of Nu ABO, he hasn’t brought it up. You weren’t spying on Vernon, no. But your skin was starting to itch with curiosity and in your haste to leave last night, you didn’t even ask what he designed on your back. 

“Are you stalking the tattoo guy?” 

Despite the voice being petal soft, you flinched. Assistant Manager Joshua Hong with a bouquet of boat lilies, was accusing you of stalking. His Converse tapped rhythmically against the wood paneling, looking down at you like a guilty child.  

“What?” you floundered, waving around the florist magazine in your hands. “Josh, I’m studying! And the sun was in my face so I moved the swing.” 

“You’re studying,” Joshua flickered his eyes to the run down shack across the road. “The tattoo guy?” 

“I already said I wasn’t!” 

“Then you’re telling me you spent all last night doing that,” he reached over to tug at your starched work collar, “all by yourself?” 

Your hand flew to your neck, as if you were trying to hide Vernon’s hard work. “I just wanna see what he did, all right? And I’m trying to be very patient until closing because if Wonwoo sees me going there,” you jerked a head none-too-gracefully at the direction of the parlor, “he’s gonna tell you-know-who.” 

Joshua frowned, because he already knew. After all, he stayed in the back room with you all last night, wiping away your tears. “Well, whoever did it is truly an artist,” he said genuinely, “it’s beautiful.” 

Joshua finally left you alone, and you suddenly felt emptier than before. Sure, the breakup with Mingyu was conventionally bad, but why were you so conflicted with your feelings? You didn’t want Mingyu to know you were hanging out with other guys, but you wanted to let go of him. Maybe you were trying too hard too fast. 

But Vernon made everything so, so easy. 

No, you are not letting him be a rebound. The inner conflict in your head was giving you a massive headache, you couldn’t tell if the vibes you were feeling last night were because of the recent breakup or just an authentic spark. 

The storm door shuttered boldly, and you jumped. Wonwoo stepped out, and gave you a weird look. “You alright?” 

“Me? Yeah, fine.” You gripped the collar of your shirt and pretended to fasten the buttons. 

He was unconvinced, either that or the pinched look he was sporting was an indicator of a bad day. “Listen, I know things are gonna be weird because my best friend is your, y’know,” he trailed off, painfully trudging through this conversation as easily as trudging through quicksand. “He’s gonna stop by a couple more times during the week, doing me a few errands. So if you wanna take the week off, recalibrate before the the month ends, just let me know. ” 

“Won, please,” you wanted this to end, “we don’t have to talk about this, alright?” 

He awkwardly twirled around his car keys. “Alright.” As simple as that, he threw himself in his sedan and drove off, dirt brushing the pavement. 

You glared at the dust cloud until his car was far from your sights, the mustard color blinding your vision. “Honestly,” you said to yourself, finally hopping off your swing into the direction of the shack, “he thinks I’m five and never experienced heartbreak.” 

“Welcome to Nu ABO!” this voice was different, and you slowed your steps. It doesn’t quite have the husk that Vernon’s voice held, but definitely matched the energy. The boy stepped out, and his eyes sparkled in recognition. “Flower Girll,” he said to himself, and you suddenly felt like you got caught, “I don’t think we’ve met before.” 

"We haven’t,” you replied warily at the pet name, “where’s Vernon?" 

"Oh, he’s around.” The guy waved noncommittally to the air in the room, crouching his head to look down at you. He stuffed his hands in his black overalls, which covered a painfully bright rainbow tye-dye tee. “Curious to see Vern’s ink though. He’s only ever done small stuff.” 

“I thought he wasn’t an apprentice.” 

 He flicked his wrist around to show you a beautiful line of Chinese calligraphy. "Keep the secret between us, ‘kay?” He winked. 

“Minghao, leave her alone.” Vernon stepped out of the small bathroom hidden in the artist room, a white towel behind his neck. You took in his disheveled appearance. His face was red from washing his face, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. “Hey.” He said. 

“Hi,” you replied, “did you sleep here last night?" 

"Uh, yeah.” Vernon rubbed at his neck again, and stuffed the towel in his backpack. “I usually do the morning and afternoon shifts, I covered for this guy last night,” he jabbed his fist in Minghao’s shoulder, “but still had to do my day shift.” 

“So,” Minghao rocked back and forth in his boots, “why are you here?” 

You suddenly felt self-conscious, and gripped your phone between your two palms. A little part of you was disappointed that Vernon was not alone, but another part of you was relieved. It helped slow down the pace of your feelings (feelings?) that was heading in a direction you were not anticipating. “I wanted to say thank you again for last night.” You coughed, and Minghao grinned wider at your explanation. “And I was wondering if you could take a picture of my back? I haven’t had a chance to look at it.” 

He beamed, and you could tell he was happy that you wanted to document his work. “Oh, of course! I completely forgot last night.” 

Vernon moved to grab your phone, but Minghao swiped a hand in front of him. “Can I take your photo?” He asked you, although the look in his eyes said that you didn’t have much of a choice. 

Your cheeks burned at the sudden intrusion. “Huh?” 

“I mean, have you seen this guy’s Insta?” Minghao scoffed, albeit playfully as Vernon mirrored your flush. 

“What are you talking about?” Vernon exclaimed, thoroughly insulted, “my profile is tastefully abstract.” 

“It looks like it was tastefully done by a three year old.” Minghao pulled out his iPhone, and adjusted the filters. “I’m doing you a favor here, Flower Girl.” 

You looked warily at Vernon, who slumped in defeat, “If you’re going for that e-girl vibe, I guess Hao’s a better photographer.” 

“Better than your pictures coming out blurry.” Minghao shot back, holding the camera to your face. “There’s no light in here,” Minghao glared at the singular window in their tiny studio, the sill decorated with a single jade succulent. “Got any ideas?" 

Vernon shrugged, "You said I have the taste of a three year old, so." 

With Wonwoo gone for the day, you realized that you did have an idea of where you could take a tasteful picture. The thrill excited and terrified you. You only wanted a simple picture to see what it looked like, but Minghao looked as equally as excited to see your ink. Maybe it was the fact that the art was fleeting or that Vernon was really that talented, but it encouraged you to offer the setting up.

"I think our greenhouse has plenty of light,” you gestured out the studio’s only window, which was in perfect view of the flower shop. “We should be closing up soon, so it’s free." 

Minghao nodded approvingly, "We can try." 

And with a hasty "be back @ 4:20!” sign taped on the front door to Nu ABO, the three of them walked across the street to the greenhouse. 

You went in first, nearly bumping into Joshua who was bent over, pot in hand. 

“Hey Josh,” you grabbed the keys from the front desk, “borrowing the greenhouse." 

"Hey Josh,” Minghao and Vernon mimicked, who found it amusing that you just brushed by without an introduction. 

You rolled your eyes, hearing them exchange pleasantries and bro fists. The plexiglass doors to the greenhouse unlocked with a turn of your key, the smell of heat and grassy rain hitting your nostrils. Joshua placed the pot somewhere, following suit as the boys were right behind you. 

“Awesome,” Minghao exhaled, stepping further into the greenhouse. It was a small one, but comfortable enough for a couple patrons to browse around. “I’m gonna move around some plants if that’s okay, I gotta vision.” 

Joshua looked a little frazzled watching Minghao talk to himself and start moving the settings around (“The hydrangeas don’t go there, are you crazy?”) and started helping Minghao move the pots and placements around. You and Vernon hung around the entrance, giggling to yourselves. 

You tried to bump his shoulder, which didn’t even reach his. “So, what’s your Insta handle?” 

He quirked his brows at that, “Why, so you can judge my aesthetic too?” 

“No,” you replied, faking your shock. “I would never insult your taste!” 

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Speaking of taste, since your shift is over and my shift is over,” Vernon rocked back and forth on his feet. “Wanna grab a bite?” 

Something’s fluttering in your stomach, and you stomp it down. It’s an innocent invite, yes. Unfortunately it was not-so-innocent in your twisted mind knowing that you are still fresh from a breakup, yet your backed is marked with Vernon’s work. “You must be tired though,” you tried to reason, “you should get some rest, I don’t wanna bother you.” 

“Not a bother,” he said immediately, “besides, I wanna ask you something.” 

That got you curious. Before you had a chance to ask, Minghao was ushering you over, telling you to stand in front of a bundle of orchids. They’ve bloomed a Canary yellow, encasing you in a golden ring of flowers overlooking the terrace. The new friend has gestured for you to undo your shirt and he turned away in respect. It’s different with an audience and an expectation.  You made haste to undo the buttons of your blouse, then your bra, throwing it aside. You felt the warm, moist air kiss your back, and you heard a low whistle coming from Minghao. 

“Beautiful,” Minghao exhaled, “Vern, you’ve outdone yourself." 

Beautiful. Vernon made you beautiful.

Your body was simmering, and you could do nothing as you let Minghao photograph you. You focused your eyes on a puddle dripping from a faucet in front of you, counting the seconds between each droplet. 

“And, done.” 

You shoved on your clothes, and felt extra awkward as you fumbled to reach for the straps of your bra. You nearly slipped on the puddle as you walked back to the boys, who were busy over Minghao’s shoulder. 

“Super awesome,” Minghao handed you the phone brightly, “so much texture and feeling.” 

The screen showed a halo of foliage that surrounded your bare back, blush orchids kissing the frame with color. Your work shirt bundled under your hips, and fell under your elbows to reveal a city sky. You were breathless, zooming in to capture every detail of the ink. A navy sky, blanketing buildings across your back in a diagonal, splaying from the bottom right to the top left. On the bottom, skyscrapers reaching for the stars. 

If you zoomed in enough, you could tell that the stars were shaped like roses. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you in the past two days,” you started, causing Vernon to grin widely. “But thank you, I’ve never felt so beautiful.” 

Vernon scoffed, “I didn’t do anything, I’ve only enhanced your beauty. That’s our shtick.” 

You handed Minghao back your phone and thanked him. He then rushed off, saying he had to stay at the parlor since Yoongi was coming soon. Immediately, Joshua began putting back the plants in their rightful places. You and Vernon followed suit, starting with the smaller ones. 

“So,” Vernon picked up a tray of succulents, “are we still on for dinner?” 

Wide-eyed Joshua crept in-between the foliage, laughably appearing under a series of hanging plants like a madman. “Dinner?” he asked, looking between you two. 

“Yeah man,” Vernon reached to pull Joshua away from the plants, “wanna come?” 

Simultaneously disappointed and relieved, you let out a subconscious exhale. Joshua was coming, which meant that there would be no possibility for feeling weird (or catching feels), being awkward or fighting any oncoming feelings with Vernon. 

"On Thursdays there’s this really good half-off sushi deal by my place. We can take out and eat at my apartment?” Joshua’s kindness was palpable at the offering of his home, and the both of you smiled gratefully.

Not more than two hours later, the three of you are bundled away in Joshua’s two-room, empty boxes of carryout stacked high. The television was playing reruns of Full House, the only source of light in the dim space. 

“Are you gonna go home soon?” Vernon asked, and turned his head to the corner of the room. Joshua is cuddled up in the single couch, tucked in a wearable blanket with the armholes. 

You shrugged, “I dunno. Usually I crash here for sushi nights,” you patted the couch lovingly, “This is my second bed.” 

Vernon chuckled, tucking his feet under his thighs. It made him look impossibly small in comparison to how tall and lanky he actually was.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” 

Vernon looked between his legs, as if he were trying to piece his words together. “Long story short, I got waitlisted at my top graduate school option,” he then pulled up his phone, revealing the picture of your back that was taken that afternoon, “but I was thinking that if I made a portfolio of this kind of art, it would really tip my application over the edge. Originally I was thinking of just sending my usual art, but it just popped in my head today while we were doing it.” He looked up through his eyelashes, wisps of copper looking expectantly at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be my canvas?”  

“Live art,” you surmised, “honestly, I’m honored that you would want me to be a part of something so big. You think I’m that good?” 

No, you weren’t doubting Vernon’s art one bit. The fact that your back would be out on display for a bunch of strangers was unnerving, to say the least. 

“Are you kidding?” Vernon zoomed out of the image, revealing the curve of your back and the generation of life reflected in the greenhouse. “This is wicked. You’re stunning. We’d make a great team!” 

You felt your body heat at the statement. His presence was almost too refreshing, and you wanted to return the favor of helping you out last night. 

“Lucky for you,” you shot a quick text to Wonwoo, “I’ve planned to take this week off.” 

Over the course of the week Vernon wanted to do an artistic timeline of sorts, adding and retouching the already existing ink on your back until the canvas was full. It felt fulfilling, letting yourself become a vessel of success for someone. The following day, Vernon shot you a text revealing his portfolio, and said how excited he was to see you. 

You met in the shack after his shift, and Vernon let you into the office and locked the door. You can hear the rap being played in the artist room where Minghao and Yoongi were working with a client.

The artist was muttering to himself as he invited you to sit at the couch. Something about whether he wanted to start from the “top-down” or “bottom-up.” Instead of contributing to his madness, you turned away from him and started shedding your shirt. Today was a plain cotton shirt, and you shucked it off and balled it in your arms. 

No less than five seconds was Vernon’s hands on your back, and despite the warmth radiating from his fingertips, you couldn’t help but shiver. Vernon had explained that while he did a large portion of your back the first time, there was still room for growth and he wanted your back filled by the end of the week. 

“Do you mind if I,” his hand hovered over your bra. 

You shook your head, and with his thumb and forefinger he flicked off both your bra straps with ease. Your hands flooded themselves in the fabric of your t-shirt, which silently accepted your death grip. 

“Sorry, do you feel weird?” He definitely sensed your lack of vocality, and put one strap back in case. 

“I’m fine,” your voice is light, what else could you say? 

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and resumed his work. 

You opt to take in the sounds. Minghao laughed about something in the other room, coupled with the zing of the needle. The music pulled to a stop and boomeranged back into a smoother arrangement. 

“I think we’ll start from the bottom-up and build from there,” he then placed his hands around your waist, poking at the dive between your waist and your bottom. 

There’s an unmistakable heat that pooled within you, which caused you to wring your shirt harder. It was going to be a long week. 

By Wednesday, he was in your apartment, working on the sides of your waist. The day after every session, Vernon would take a picture of yesterday’s work and show it to you. A gummy grin would always take over his face, either proud of himself or happy that you loved the new addition. 

Despite the fact that the only thing covering your body was a thin gown medical taken from the shop, every pore of your body felt unbelievably hot. You really shouldn’t be mixing alcohol on a Wednesday night, but Vernon was excited that he was halfway done with the project and it was time to be “poppin’ bottles.” 

You felt a little drowsy as a result of that, but nothing terrible. Like he said, the feeling was cathartic. 

“Aren’t you drunk too?” you murmured into your navy blue whale plush, “what if you accidentally stab me?” 

Vernon laughed, and it shook the couch. You couldn’t see his face as he sat on the floor, getting in the crevices of your skin. He poked at your skin a little harder than usual, as if he were testing the possibility. “That’d still take a lot of strength.” 

“You’d be surprised,” you sighed, “those little sticks florists use to keep the babies upright? Flat as a thumb and I still manage to impale tomatoes with them.” He doesn’t respond to that, and you’re left drowning in your own answer. You wondered if he truly thought you were a crazy tomato-killer, or was concentrated on detailing a particular patch of skin. “Can I tell you a secret?” you blurted, “honestly, I think flowers are beautiful, but I really hate working at the florist. The only reason I’m doing it is because Joshua really needed the help and he knew I wasn’t going to do shit until my city job starts in September.” 

“Huh,” Vernon stopped, resting the heel of his hand on your back. “That’s funny. Explains all the cursing when you’re cutting roses outside.” 

“You’ve watched me outside?” you grinned into your cushion, “creepy much?” 

“Do you wanna know a secret?” Vernon blurted, evading your question with one of his own, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since you came by in May.” 

You tensed, and if Vernon noticed, he didn’t react. He kept on doing his business, marking your back with baby’s breath. It had to be the alcohol talking. If he drank at all, you couldn’t even tell because you couldn’t get up and he was strikingly coherent. All this time, and you didn’t even notice? 

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, as if he knew you were strung speechless. “I just, wanted to say it. We’re cool.” 

And you agreed, pretending to fall asleep. 

Friday was around the corner before you knew it, and Vernon wanted to photograph the final piece where it all started. The greenhouse was devoid of human life at the crack of dawn, unless you counted Joshua who was asleep on the counter because he was the only one with a key that knew of your recent escapades with Vernon. 

Vernon was just as tired as you are, but he was adamant about having the photo taken at dawn, as the first picture was taken in the late day. There was some contrived symbolism attached to it that you didn’t really understand, but you trusted his vision. Besides, your panda eyes wouldn’t be revealed in the photo, so you could master the art of sleeping upright while he took photos. 

“Alright,” Vernon set up his camera. He was dressed in a university zip up and matching sweatpants, like he just rolled out of bed. “Everything’s set up, whenever you’re ready.” 

Likewise with you, and you pulled off your hoodie, not bothering with a bra. Despite the fact that the room was temperature controlled, the cold morning air still managed to worm its way to your bare top. You quickly rubbed down your gooseflesh with your palms.  

You two engaged in a comfortable silence as you tested out your poses and he adjusted his frame. After a couple of practice shots, the air seemed calmer.

“Cold?” Vernon asked casually.

“Anything that isn’t under the sheets of my bed is cold as hell,” you muttered, trailing your fingers delicately across your waist. 

“That’s a nice pose,” Vernon said to himself, “we’re almost done. Then you can go to bed for the rest of your day. Unless you’re down for breakfast?" 

You two still haven’t spoken about his little confession the other day, but in all honesty there was no reason to bring it up. Your lives were going in different directions, and you knew Vernon deserved more than a halfhearted summer fling. 

"I think I’m down for bed and breakfast,” you replied wryly. 

“Smart girl,” Vernon chuckled, “can you change your pose for me? Like, pretend that you’re stretching.” 

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, so you ended up flexing your arms in different directions. 

“No, we’re not doing yoga.” He let his camera swing around his neck as he rushed over to you. The sun was a soft white, the antithesis of golden hour as you two rushed to make the magic happen. He grabbed your arms from behind, twisting the left wris in an unusual angle. 

"Ah, Vernon!” You jerked around to face him, now fully awake. “I’m not a Barbie doll, you can’t just move me like that." 

Vernon doesn’t respond. He let go of you as soon as you screamed, eyes blown wide and pupils a thick black. His stare is frozen to yours, and his hand is in mid-air, a centimeter away from your bare breasts. 

"Oh,” you said, “did I whack you with my boob when I turned?" 

"Yeah, you boobed me.” Vernon looked afraid to stare anywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry." 

"It’s okay,” you bit the inside of your lip, “I don’t mind if you touch me there." 

Now, Vernon looked terrified. 

It’s been a long week. A long, surreal week. You wanted to tell Vernon about your conflicted feelings, you wanted to ask about his little crush, and what on earth did he find appealing about you. You wanted to tell him how much you trusted him with your body, and how you wanted him to do more to you than just ink. 

It’s then, the gaping boy shook himself together. His hands encircled your neck, haloing at the finishing piece of his work, an echelon moon. Vernon’s fingers trailed to cup your face, and you felt your whole body warm in anticipation. Patient, you waited for his carmine eyes to flutter shut, and you smiled, finally closing yours—

"The fuck is this?" 

In an instant, the air was sucked out of you like a blackhole, and Vernon immediately shielded you, throwing his jacket across you like a towel. 

"Mingyu,” you said shakily, clutching the cotton coat tighter around your form. 

It’s then that a no-longer bleary-eyed Joshua stumbled into the greenhouse, seconds too late. 

Mingyu threw down the sack of fertilizer he hauled on his back, black dirt smattering the floor.  “Its been barely a week and you’re fucking someone in the greenhouse, of all places?” Mingyu was angry, plain and simple. “I thought we agreed on a break." 

"You agreed on a break,” your thighs were numb from leaning on them, but Vernon’s hand on your back encouraged you to get on your feet. “I agreed that two years was too long to wait." 

"And who are you?” Mingyu squinted his eyes at Vernon.

“He’s none of your business,” you stepped in front of him, tugging his hoodie  closer around your frame. 

Mingyu’s face fell in realization, and he looked between you two with forlornness that made your stomach churn. “C’mon baby,” your nails embedded themselves in your palm at the jab, “can we go outside and talk about this?” 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice was paper thin, but loud enough for Mingyu to hear across the room, “I’d prefer you leave us alone, and do not talk to me ever again.” 

It took all your composure to turn around, and you glared a hole into Vernon’s chest. You felt your body bleed goosebumps around your arms and legs, not out of weather, but out of anxiety. You hugged yourself to shut the prickly feeling down. You heard Joshua do the only helpful thing this morning and it’s his soft utterances that finally pulled Mingyu out of the greenhouse. ,

What’s left is the drip of the hose, and the two of you, unmoved.

Thankful for the silence, you looked up at your companion, who was speechless. Vernon’s lower lip was puckered out slightly, face contorted as if to say I’m sorry, that kinda sucked. The tell-tale signs of emotional overload began to prick at your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you wiped your face. Since when did you start crying? “I’m so sorry that I let all of this happen, and I let myself let this happen, and I’m such a mess and I’ve been trying to hide it all this time, but I’m selfish and I just wanted to see what would turn out of it.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Vernon tried to lighten up the mood, and offered you an easy smile and reached for a hug.

“I’m sorry because I don’t know if I like you or not!” you outburst, and pushed him out of arm’s reach. “I feel so fucking guilty I just got out of a relationship and I can’t tell if I like you or I like your attention, honestly. And it isn’t fair because you’re just so sweet and kind and easy to love. Either way at the end of the summer I’m moving into the city for my full-time job. And I, I, I don’t know!” 

Vernon forced his way into your space, barely a foot apart. He didn’t touch you, but his warmth still emanated from the jacket you were wearing. He didn’t seem upset, then again you were probably upset enough for the both of you. 

“Hey, I offered to do your back because I knew you needed a distraction,” Vernon said softly, “no strings attached, ever. You do you, right? Focus on yourself.” 

You wished he was mean about this. It would’ve made it easier. “What if this is the last time we talk? What if I want to ignore you for the rest of the summer?” you murmured, already knowing you. should enjoy these final moments. 

“We’ll live,” he shrugged, and finally broke the space between you. His lips planted themselves between your forehead, melting away the lines that marred your brows apart, “and we’ll heal.”

The city was daring. The city was unforgiving. 

You tugged your scarf closer around your neck, which constricted your airflow but also prevented any possible windchill from slicing your neck. In your other hand you were hauling a week’s worth of work in a luggage that had once packed your things in August and sent you to this very career path. 

As much as you loved your new life, you wished things would be a little more boundless. The box of your workspace, the box of the elevator, and the box of your goshiwon apartment were starting to feel particularly stifling this weekend. 

It was Friday (or FriYay, as your co-workers dubbed) and that meant a weekend vegging out with a comfort meal and a new movie. There was a Burger King and a Gongcha under your apartment complex, both calling your name. 

Boba and burgers, the perfect way to end a week. 

You munched on your fries as you scanned the Gongcha menu, craving something sweet to contrast with your salty meal. 

It is then a low, sultry whisper sauntered in your direction (in a Gongcha, with children) and you almost choked on your fry. “I would know that back anywhere,” the offender drawled. 

What a strange pick-up line. The paper bag crinkled in your grip, and you turn around to see a familiar perky face in a scarlet Adidas tracksuit. Of all the places, he was here. 

“Hey, Flower Girl.” Minghao greeted, wiggling his fingers in a wave. He was on a tall stool, long legs splayed out and a cup of oolong milk tea hung lazily in his grip. His cup was at least 50% ice, and he was shaking the cup like a rattle every ten seconds.

“Normally, people would start with a simple hello,” you replied wryly, ushering him over to wait with you in line. 

“Normally,” Minghao shrugged, and slipped an arm around your shoulders as if you were long lost friends, “how have you been doing? Planting gardens for the spring?” 

“Please,” you scoffed. To Joshua and Wonwoo’s chagrin, you’ve forgotten a lot since the summer. “I can’t even make a corsage anymore, my brain’s on overload. What about you?” 

It looked like he was waiting for you to ask that. You barely got your order in before he started spitting out his story. “Didn’t you hear?” Obviously you didn’t, and he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Two letters. RM.” Again, nothing. “The RM? The hottest rapper in Korea? Anyway, he was one of our clients in August—he got a sick design of a koala and an alpaca, cooler than you think—and gave us a massive tip on his Instagram story. We were famous overnight! We were getting crazy clients left and right—fuckin’ Sana wanted a little heart on her sternum, hottest thing.” 

“So you were able to relocate the parlor to the city?” 

“The big push was when Yoongi dropped RM his demo,” he shook his cup furiously, ice clanging, as if he never got tired of this story. “Like, I didn’t even know they were texting! I’ve been running the parlor mostly, I’ve always wanted to live in the city, but RM funded a lot of it and is helping Yoongi make his mix.”

In the back of your head, the question of an aspiring grad student was niggling in your brain, but you pushed it down. “So, if Yoongi’s working on his demo and you’re supposed to be running the parlor, why aren’t you there now?” you asked.

He stared at you as if it were the most obvious choice. “Because I’m here, drinking boba with you.” Minghao then grabbed your finished drink from the employee’s hand, ushering you out the door. “And now you’re going to follow me, because my break was over fifteen minutes ago.” 

“What?” 

“I have your boba,” he’s already out the door, waving your precious beverage like a fish to its line. “Hurry up, now I’m sixteen minutes late!” 

You groaned, lugging your suitcase full of work and now cold french fries back into the freezing weather. The wheels of your suitcase are cracking in exhaustion, mirroring yours. You just wanted your damn milk tea, hot fries, and a Netflix catch-up. What was the point of following Minghao to Nu ABO, when there was no reason to be there other than … 

“Oof!” your face slammed into Minghao’s back. The light was red. “Did Vernon move here too?” 

“Duh, who else would be covering for me?” 

“You’re trying to set me up!” You cried in betrayal, jabbing him in chest with your finger. “Y'know what, I’m just going to get another boba. You keep that.”

You two glared at each other. Minghao looked relentless, ignoring whoever was bumping into him on the streets. His eyes suddenly glinted to your rolling luggage, and he snatched it from your grip, running into the streets. 

“Can’t replace your work, right?” He laughed, forcing you to chase him down the block.

You felt sweat start to develop on your back, contrasting with the icy weather. Your work blazer and pinstripe loafers were not suited for vigorous activity. Minghao has an unfair advantage, being tall and athletic, and you had just finished half a bag of Burger King. Damn him. 

Minghao stopped in front of a sunken in building, with stairs leading downwards to a neon-lit parlor with the name glittering in electric periwinkle font. Flustered, you gasp at the cold air, finally able to stop. Despite having lost your breath ten meters ago, you managed to tell Minghao you’re proud that they have a real parlor. 

Your heart was beating in your ears, and you can’t tell whether it was because you haven’t worked out in months, or because Vernon was behind that door. 

Minghao dumped your luggage behind the reception area, and went straight into the artist room. This new parlor was much bigger, so when Minghao disappeared into a hallway he was out of your sight. You wait around, letting yourself sink into the familiar hip hop playlist. There are pictures littering the walls, all covered with a clean black frame. You see Yoongi and the supposed RM, sporting his koala and alpaca ink (which actually did look sick) and some photos of Minghao’s work, all of his designs being simultaneously colorful and graceful. 

It’s then in the epicenter of this wall is a long black frame that cut across the horizon, seven images of a woman with flowers and stars inking her back. 

Your back. 

“Beautiful, right? I’m sure it takes you back.” Minghao was over your shoulder, flicking his fingers between the photos. “Lots of customers have requested these designs. He never makes them the same way, though.”

Instead of answering, you followed Minghao down the hallway and into the artist room. Vernon had just finished with a client. Poking in head first, you saw him ticking off protocol off a printed list, speaking concisely. The client was listening intently, and you see he has an arm sleeve with peonies. It’s then he noticed Minghao intruding once more, and frowned. 

“Dude, you got milk tea without me?” Vernon said, affronted. 

“Ya didn’t ask.” Minghao vigorously shook the ice in your tea like a baby rattle. 

“You didn’t mention it, therefore I couldn’t have asked.” 

“You’re so smart, Hannie,” he beamed at him like a proud parent complimenting his son, “that’s why he’s going to grad school.” 

You let yourself in fully, and you felt shy as Vernon’s lips parted slightly upon realizing who his second guest was. 

“Hey,” Vernon exhaled, and gave you a small smile. He looked happy, content. As handsome as ever, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, soft curls bouncing as he shifted around the parting. “This is uh, a surprise.” his eyes flickered to Minghao, who held his arms out in a passive shrug. “A good one to end the week.” 

“Hi,” you bit your lip, feeling shy, “so, you decided to get certified and you’re going to grad school? I missed out on a lot.”

“That’s okay, we got time.” Vernon assured, “besides the fact that I got a project due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started, and then I have a field trip I gotta go to on Sunday—”

Before it could drag on any longer, Minghao hacked out a very loud, and very fake cough. You broke out of the rêve, and muttered a “gimmie that” before snatching your precious bubble tea out of Minghao’s hand. 

Vernon mirrored the cough, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. “Lemme finish up with this client, yeah?” And he jerked his head back to the patient, going on about safety. 

Minghao led you out of the room, whispering a “you’re welcome” in your ear that taunted you for the rest of the night. 

Vernon finished at 5, just like he did back in the little shack at university square. He came out in a 2XL neon green hoodie, leading the client out the door and telling him to “take it easy”. As soon as the client’s gone, he comes over to you. You’re still staring at your pictures, as if you couldn’t believe that you were on display, looking like a tasteful nude model. 

“Hi again,” he said, dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants. 

“Hi,” you replied, feeling tingly at the sound of his voice. Did you really miss him that much? 

"Um, is it cool if I hug you?" 

It certainly has been awhile. You nodded, unsure if you could form a coherent response because you could tell Vernon was blushing and he was being too damn adorable for you to handle. 

Upon permission, he brightened. The warmth of his cotton hoodie enveloped you like the way hot chocolate feels after a cold day. You breathed in his scent, realizing how much you missed the scent of fresh laundry, especially on him. 

"How are you?” He asked casually.

“Uh, m'okay.” You answered softly, “a little cold nowadays." 

He hugged you tighter in response. With one more squeeze he let himself go, but kept you at an arm’s length. "Wanna get dinner?" 

You looked at him funny, "didn’t you say you had a project due tomorrow morning that you haven’t started?" 

Without missing a beat he altered, "Wanna get takeout? I’ll do work and eat while,” his eyes darted to your luggage, “you do work?" 

While you wanted to say that it was Friday (FriYay!) and you weren’t planning to open Pandora’s Box until Sunday night, you obliged and followed him to his place. 

On the way over, Vernon got his well-needed milk tea (and your second round) with two matching cartons of jajangmyeon. You trailed behind him rather than next to him, due to the fact that he was also lugging a Joshua-sized canvas on his back. In fear of being knocked out or ruining his work, you settled for walking a meter apart. 

Vernon lived on the second floor of his complex. You imagined a sizable one-room similar to your goshiwon, but you’re in awe when you see a fully furnished living room and kitchen. You smiled at the singular jade plant decorating the windowsill, one you remembered as Patricia Planty one session months ago. The hardwood was so shiny you could see your reflection in them. Kicking off your shoes, you stumbled over the kitchen countertop, reveling at the onyx granite. 

"I’ve never seen this much granite in my entire life!” You cried, spreading your hands over the cool rock. It was so well polished, you could see your reflection.  He was certainly living the high life this year. 

Vernon shook his head, setting the take out down and pulling out the containers. “It’s RM’s old place. I rent it out with the guys." 

"God, this is ten times better than my place! Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment!" 

He flicked your bowl of jajangmyeon over to your side of the countertop, the sauce and noodles premixed for you. "Eat up, babe.” He stuffed a radish in his mouth, now working to mix his own noodles, “we got a lotta catchin’ up to do." 

Whether it was your hunger or the casual use of the word "babe”, you abandoned the granite for now and did as told. 

An hour later, you’re flipping through their mounted TV, taking full advantage of their Disney+ subscription as Vernon is laying on the floor.  

“I thought you were working,” you chastised, letting yourself sink further into their couch. It was like resting on a big, fluffy marshmallow. You never wanted to leave. 

Vernon is splayed out like a starfish, papers and watercolors spread around him. His large body stood out against the white linoleum floor, his neon green hoodie reflecting on the shiny surface. “I am.” he replied blandly, “I’m waiting for lightning to hit me with a burst of inspiration." 

"Grad school’s biting you in the butt?" 

"Big time." 

Another bout of silence hit the two of you, and it was surprisingly nice. You finally started to notice that Vernon is picking up some art utensils and is doodling something. (He still is on the floor and hasn’t sat up properly, but progress is progress.) 

It felt oddly domestic, but you didn’t mind. There was no need to ask about the past, Kim Mingyu, or any other silly drama you two entrapped yourselves into last summer. What mattered now was the warmth of each other’s presence on this chilly night.

Your eyes are heavy and fighting against the long day, and before you know it, you’re asleep just as Rapunzel escapes Gothel’s tower. 

You haven’t awoken to the morning sun in a long, long time. While the notion sounded awfully depressing (because it was), you really didn’t have much of a choice because the goshiwon was closet sized, and closets had no windows. But today, the sun blasted you, forcing you up. This was accompanied by the the tell-tale sounds of breakfast, which was weird because you only ever ate cold food in your room, because there was zero ventilation. The scent of dark roast muddled your senses, forcing you awake. You twitched at the sudden stench, and snapped your back straight. Were your walls always this pristine white? 

"Didn’t know you were this early in the game, Flower Girl." 

You never went home. While Vernon was long gone and probably off presenting some haphazard art, Minghao and Yoongi (for the first time, in the flesh!) were watching you from their marbled island, while you rubbed the crusties out of your eyes. "Usually, encroaching on a significant other’s apartment is reserved for the 5th or 6th date.” Minghao teased, waving his Nutella toast in your face. 

“Oh, shut up,” you glared at Yoongi, who was slowly chewing on his own toast. There’s was black spark in his eyes, like he’s relishing on whatever has unfolded. “And you, you. I know this is the first time we’ve met and you haven’t said a word. But shut up too. Your thoughts are awfully loud.” 

You’re embarrassed, and you pull up your hands to mediate your fired cheeks. Instead of your palms, you feel worn cotton dabbing at your face. You wiggled your fingers under the neon green hoodie. Vernon put on his clothes for you to wear. You were in a very uncompromising position, and his roommates were reveling every second of it. 

Yoongi shrugged, throwing you a flippant grin. “Whatever you say, Flower Girl.” 

Contact emerged in the form of texts and images. You wondered how Vernon managed to keep things casual in light of how sudden your meeting was, but you relished in the way things fell naturally. 

[February 19, 2:10PM]

Vern: Is this still your number 

Vern: If so, here’s what i submitted for my project

Vern: IMG.934

Vern: if not, pls enjoy this picture of a pink platypus. the medium was watercolor nd if you’re curious, i got the idea from sunsets and phineas and ferb. Enjoy your day

You: hey look, there’s perry

Vern: nice

Vern: wait, this doesn’t confirm if ur u or a stranger

Vern: are u just a perry enthusiast 

Vern: evidence pls

[February 19th, 6:08PM]

You: IMG.48

[February 20th, 12:22AM]

Vern: ooh

Vern: look cute in my hoodie 

You’ve toggled with the idea of just cutting straight through the bush and asking him out the next time you see him in person. A little part of you liked the chase, however. That feeling where you’re tugging between friendship and something more, and you can’t help but feel like you’re fifteen everytime his name popped up in your messages. You self-dubbed it the-honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. 

[February 27, 5:34PM]

Vern: what are you up to 

You: it’s hour 32. I’ve been under the covers and have survived solely on celery and honey-butter chips. currently binging all netflix comedies. debating on whether to send for help otherwise i may never get up

Vern: that’s the spirit 

By the time two weeks passed, you felt confident enough to ride off the mutually weird text messages and constant contact to meet with him. By then, you’re knees deep in the honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. You’re languidly floating in that river, hoping you’re not rushing it by agitating the waters. 

[March 8th, 10:10PM]

You: hey

You: you up? 

Vern: nah. mastered the art of sleep textin

You: just wanted to ask if you could help me pick out a tatt that would fit me

You: if you were available. I’ve heard from the mullet-monster that you’re a hot commodity drowning in appts and deadlines

Vern: wait forreal? 

Vern: i can pencil u in. tomorrow night @11? 

You: so soon? What happened to being busy

Vern: not for u. Already have an idea in mind

By the time you arrived Saturday night, Minghao was slapping your back across the door, gabbing on about a “major banger” they were missing uptown. He looked the part, the only person you knew that could fill out an all-studded denim fit. Like a disco ball at a rodeo. He barely said good-bye before he hopped in a Lyft, cheering for freedom. 

You poked your head into the artist room, and saw Vernon playing on his phone. His fist dug into his cheek, carob pupils glazed over. You almost felt bad for wanting his attention this late.

“You usually do the day shift,” you commented quietly, holding up a bag with two milk teas in hand. 

Vernon looked up, illuminating in a half-smile. “Y’know me, always covering. Just for the hour though, this shouldn’t take long since we’re just looking at ideas.” 

He slapped a hand on the client chair. This one was much better than the cot they had in their shack. This one was pure leather and gleamed high quality. You placed your drinks on the countertop and eagerly bounced onto the seat. “Comfy,” you murmured, and wriggled your sneaker-clad feet.

“Good,” there’s a sharp snap from the plastic seal and Vernon is sipping into his milk tea seconds after you put it down. He’s chewing on a particularly large gulp, gnawing on pearls like no one’s business. With his rolling chair, he slid over to you, seamlessly reaching for your wrist. 

If he noticed that you’re wearing a particular neon item, he doesn’t comment. He turned on the overhead lamp, letting a soft white light bathe your form. When he finally spoke, he chanted your name in a sing-song, tapping your wrist in beat. It’s as if he  were envisioning the color blooming on your skin. 

You let him do his thing, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery. You see pictures of his friends, some of his family, and digital art. He scrolled slower at the myriad of images: a colorful orca, lavender constellations, and budding roses. 

You were seeing a lot of flowers nowadays, with the burgeoning of spring and the recent ending of Valentine’s. It’s only now that you notice how apparent the theme is throughout the parlor, particularly in Vernon’s affinity. 

“Why don’t you call me it?” you asked softly, peering over his form to see him mulled over a picture of periwinkle lupines. 

“Huh,” he’s distracted, and has now swiped back to the colorful orca image. 

“Flower Girl,” you uttered, “they call me that, but you don’t.” 

Vernon clicked his phone down, the lupines flicked away. He peered at you through his lashes, the white overhead making his eyes appreciably bright. “Before I knew your name,” he started slow, making faces to himself as if he were debating on whether to tell you, “I’d call you Rose. You were always by the rose bush planted outside the shop.” 

“Avoiding work,” you crinkled your nose, however relished in the endearment, “being named after a rose is too big a compliment.” 

He snorted, “That’s what they said. Hence, Flower Girl was born,” he’s easy about it, but now he’s put his phone down and is rubbing circles in your wrist. You wonder if he felt how clammy your palms were getting from the minute intimacy. 

“You know what flower I’d compare to you?” you asked, “freesias.” 

“And what do those mean?” 

“Thoughtfulness,” the pad of his thumb still lingered on your skin, his grip painfully apparent. “And renewal.” 

“Why renewal?” 

“Because,” you swallowed, “you make me feel renewed. And this time I’m sure it’s because it’s you.” 

Vernon looked like he wanted to smile, trying so very hard not to embarass you whilst you poured your heart out with delicacy. His coral lips were tucked in a thin line, teeth biting at his lower lip. Drop by drop, he was going to accept that dew with as much care as possible. “Only me,” he inquired, pressing into your pulse. 

Your mouth was sand dry.  “Uh-huh.” You exhaled a breath long clutched in your throat, hot air fanning into Vernon’s face. He paid no mind, and (to no avail) was still trying to hold in his smile. “You’re dimples are showing,” you whined, poking the little dip in his cheeks with your free hand. “Use your words.” 

“Like?” he elongated, playing dumb. You supposed you earned his brand of torture, after all, seven months is a long time to make up for. 

“Like how we want the same thing?” you tried. 

“How do you know I want what you want?” he feigned, furrowing his thick brows. Acting could’ve been another career possibility for him, portrayed by the way his eyes were blown with confusion, his mouth parted like a kitten.  

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Forget words!” you broke, nearly shaking from the nerves. 

It’s then that Vernon finally gave you a concrete response. His grip on your wrist was near painful as he eagerly tugged you closer, kissing you. There’s enthusiasm in every action from the way he pulled you closer, large hands melding to cup your cheeks. A little part of you is both breathless and invigorated at the energy stinging the room, and you can barely keep up until Vernon spilled kisses down your neck. 

He threw up the armrest holding him back, tucking his knee between your legs as he lapped you up, kissing you fully. The chair was much too small for the both of you, his large body pressing you further into the cushions. 

He sat up a bit, bumping his head on the lamp. He paid no mind. “By the way, I like you, too.” Vernon puttered cheekily, rubbing his scalp. Just as swiftly, he latches onto your neck and sucks at a sensitive spot. You can feel his teeth showing from the smile in his kisses. His thumbs rubbed lazily over your jaw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin under his rough palms. 

“Really,” you exhaled, relaxing against the headrest as Vernon’s wandering hands traveled lower. “Had no idea.” 

“But I’m happy,” Vernon is fumbly and sweet, mumbling in the crook of your neck while his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, “happy you’ve healed, and happy for us.” 

He’s excited, almost too excited. The space between you two was warm, the lamp beating under your skin, awakening something between you two that was left behind that summer. It’s as if winter left him dormant, and you were the fresh flower waiting to be bloomed under his touch.

“Are you always,” you gasped, two fingers already worming their way inside your panties, “talkative at this part?” 

“Not if you wanna talk,” and the ever-zealous Vernon Chwe gets to work, sticking out his tongue in surprise when he finds that you’re already drenched. “Shit, you’re so beautiful,” he holds onto that word dearly, and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold you like this,” he reached for your delicious bud, and you felt your senses flower into pleasure. 

He makes a noise, low in his throat as he watched you melt against the seat. “I like you like this,” he said thickly, his voice matching the slick sounds emitting from yourself. “Comfy, relaxed. You always looked so stuffy in those work suits,” you feel wholly undeserving of this worship, as he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, “would love to help you chill out a lil’ more.” 

A whine bubbled from the back of your throat, your eyes rolling shamelessly as you feel the pads of his fingers working circles between your folds. “Ah, I’ve—I’ve fantasized about this,” you confessed, “every time you’d ink my back. At one point we just stopped covering myself with those stupidly thin gowns. All you had to do was turn around.” Vernon blinked rapidly, mental pictures ticked like film in his pupils. His hands stuttered across your slick, inserting two fingers between your folds as you continued. His pace was slow, yet purposeful as he made sure you felt him with every thrust. Rings adorned his fingers, and the cool sensation surprised you. You shivered in pleasure. “Mm, I’ve imagined us kinda like this in that little shack, hard against the cot overlooking the shop,” 

“Dirty,” he said, as if recalling the weather. 

“And ah—wondering what kind of tattoos you have,” and in your haze you reached for him, your hand gripping firm at his gunmetal belt buckle. You tucked your fingers between the button of his light wash jeans, palming the telltale signs of something hard, “please? You’ve done too much for me, lemme return the favor.” 

“Not now,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “you can guess my ink on our way home.”

“Wha?“ You’re dazed, feeling warm with affection and drowned in the moment. You feel his fingers, slowly pumping out of its rhythm and resting on your thigh. You groaned at the premature end, his shiny digits resting on your fleece sweats. 

“They’ll kill me, this is new leather,” Vernon said, “and now we can afford security cameras, which are so small even I can’t find them.” 

“Unbelievable,” you laughed. You’re not frustrated, only endeared. 

“Besides, I’d rather have our first time somewhere private. Undisturbed,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "somewhere where there’s lots of granite." 

You melted, pulling at his collar to pepper kisses on his nose. The mention of coming home to his pretty kitchen was icing on the cake. "You know how much I love your granite." 

(After your granite fantasy was fulfilled, you spent the rest of the weekend huddled in Vernon’s room. You’re living off take out and mutually satisfied with the unhealthy means. When you’re not eating or watching movies, the two of you are drafting your first piece. 

Freesias and pink roses.)

(His tattoo was also very cute.) 

#vernon #vernon fic #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #vernon smut #vernon fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon fanfic #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen scenarios #kpop #kpop fic #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #blossomed

[peaches-writes]

would i trust skz with my grades 

chan - i’d trust him with an rrl & doing a data gathering session on his own and that’s the highest compliment i could give someone tbvh the level of reliability and resourcefulness is so *chef’s kiss* this boy would NEVER fail you will carry his weight in the group and goes the extra mile even when he’s not the group leader because honestly iSN’T THAT WHAT GROUPMATES ARE SUPPOSED TO DO also he prolly also likes the library for summ reason like i like the library too i like actually looking at books for work and not just sitting there to stare at my laptop and hoard the air conditioning & electric sockets but he does it w/o hesitation like he gets in there and actually looks for books for the paper and that’s admirable shit right there canonically i have a crush on college campus heartthrob chan in all of his soft boy senior who’s kind to everyone forms and i think we should just discuss this

minho - we’d prolly fight once during brainstorming bc he suggested the one (1) wild ass topic proposal & thesis statement that the thesis adviser surprisingly liked (?) like GETS in a topic proposal there’s usually the underdeveloped topic the group just threw in there bc y’all could dream LOL, the topic everyone ACTUALLY likes and wants to do, and the filler topic that’s so wild but for summ reason gets the adviser’s attention like he suggests the THIRD one and it’s gonna spark a mini fist fight but it’s cool lee minho lee know is smart he knows what he’s doing 

changbin - he seems like ur 2 am google docs buddy where you know the one where all of your classmates have gone to take short naps & promised to come back at 4 am to finish their parts or just straight up SKIPPED on writing the paper the night before the deadline & the two of you like gave up halfway to communicate & consistently update each other via chat just so now you’re just competing over who’s gonna leave the website first ALSO IDK he reminds me of that one guy on twt who like hovered their gdocs cursor over their crush’s and said something like we were holding hands on gdocs im sorry my humor’s encountering an error atm

hyunjin - starbucks study buddy who’d fight u for the seat near the electric socket and will prolly be too chatty all throughout the thing like you just want to SUMMARIZE THIS LONG ASS ARTICLE IN PEACE but hyunjin’s sitting across from you while he’s typing obnoxiously loud and fast on his laptop while also scrolling thru his insta dump on his phone and showing you the latest tea on ur grpmates who refuse to do their parts sdhfksld but he’ll treat u to wings for lunch after bc u deserve it later dont get mad at him !!!! 

jisung - i’d pick him in class bc i can’t do public speaking to save my life, im too shy to approach people for surveys & interviews, i hate computer shops (!!!) and bc every stressed out research group needs a bubbly moodmaker to balance out the lack of optimism in getting a passing grade might also hav a crush on him if he dresses up extra on thesis defense day im just sayin like jisung in a kinda wrinkled button up he forgot to iron before coming to school in the color ur grpmates agreed to color-coordinate for ur presentation plus black blazer + slacks combo and then MESSY FLOOFY HAIR bc it’s just u & the scariest profs in ur department he doesn’t need to slick his hair up but it’s sooo adorable wtf u want me to treat u to iced coffee after this sTAY RIGHT THERE IM GOING TO TIM HORTON’S 

felix - i’ll end up doing most of the work for him not bc he’s lazy or deadweight (aka the usual reasons why i’m always overworked in a researched group) but bc i’m whipped for him like omg baby just go and cook the pancit canton for the group and rest i’ll do ur work for yOU ARE YOU HAVING DIFFICULTY UNDERSTANDING THE SOURCE MATERIAL DO I HAVE TO PUNCH THE SOURCE MATERIAL FOR YOU I GOT YOU OKAY 

seungmin - 100% no questions asked i’d trust him with my life in a life-threatening situation ofc i’d trust him with my grades he’ll prolly turn up to ur grp meetings w his resources ready and a sorta clear ide aon what to do alr like that’s HOT but more importantly i’d also trust him w ranting abt deadweight groupmates he’d prolly be that one (1) trustworthy groupmate of urs who’s also like super sassy n goes omg just remove their names from the title page if they dont want to do their work !!! then actually tells ur deadweight grpmates off after bc injustice ???? i wont stand for it !!!! 

jeongin - idk why jeongin exudes that classmate who has a decent printer that the entire class takes advantage of for a whole semester it’s prolly why he’s late to class all the time or coming to school haggard with all the stacks of paper he has to carry (until he decided one day to just fuck it and bring the printer to school) like bruh just make it a business also that one classmate of urs who’s like literally running all the time bc ur class is in one building, the campus library’s on the OTHER SIDE, and the conference room for the thesis defense is on a whole ‘nother planet and he gets the unfortunate task of transferring the final research paper copies and escorting groups to the thesis panel pls save him my poor bby lemme buy u iced coffee

#and eye oop #the whipped for felix agenda continues #i only hav one grpwork left tmi #but like #im too lazy to do the research #i did do the poster templates yesterday tho and i liked how they turned out!!!! #hopefully my grpmates like them too lol

[uwumessenger]

Hey, could you do RFA and V reacting to MC who turns into a dog for one day? weird I know lol

yes!! and sorry for taking oh so long fjdjndnd if u see dis i hope u enjoy eht

let's assume u do understand english as a dog and dont think in dog language. also this is super silly haha i had a lot of fun with it while trying to make it realistic!

+ btw since some ppl asked, yes my requests are open ! im just going in order so feel free to continue sending them in !! i only have 5 requests in my inbox now as of 5/11/2020 so ill get around to yours soon :)

Yoosung

when he wakes up and cant find you he immediately panics

calls your name and lifts anything that can be lifted to find you

he even checks the fridge!! wink wonk

when he finally quiets down and hears your barking he goes into panic mode AGAIN

when he finally finds you (as a dog) his mind begins racing

wait...is it our anniversary?!?!!! what exact day did MC join RFA again? um um is it my birthday? is it MC's BIRTHDAY???

ignores you and does a group call with zen and seven, trying to figure out what is happening

seven verifies that it is not a day of any importance

poor yoosung is just SO CONFUSED

but how do u even tell someone u transformed into a dog

i dont think yoosung would ever find out you turned into a dog

everyone would help with searching for you, and of course panic again bc the way you met them was lit rally bc u walked into your own kidnapping

yoosung is the physical embodiment of panic

but he takes care of you normally (LUCKILY HE DOESNT TURN YOU INTO THE POUND OR SOMETHING–)

when u turn human after 24 hours you explain EVERYTHING

and now he feels better

Zen

a few nights ago, zen had a psychic dream that you turned into a dog so

he brushed it off as a nightmare and his symptoms appeared bc the AC was broken and it was extra hot that night

but when he woke up and opened his eyes to a whole ass dog next to him

he FREAKED OUT

at first he didnt know what was going on but then he remembered his dream

so he tells you to bark once for yes and twice for no

are you MC?

bark!!!

are you hungry?

bark!!!

this goes on for 25 more minutes until you stop cooperating and trot away

hes very glad that at least youre not a cat

he feeds you and allows you to go do your potty business outside by yourself then cleans up after ur finished

he doesnt want you to be alone with nothing to do while hes at rehearsals so he asks yoosung to watch you!

but doesnt tell yoosung it's you lol

when he comes back he just chills w/ u until ur back to your ol' human self :')

Jaehee

initially she'd be pretty calm, thinking that you had to leave early to go do something

but after checking her phone every 2 seconds and searching every nook and cranny yet not recieving a text/finding a note from you, she begins to panic

she calls all the others, wondering if they knew where you were or what you were up to

no one knew what was going on so everyone panics!!!!

tbh she forgot about dog MC until u start scratching her

eventually jaehee starts considering the idea of u turning into a dog....but....what are the odds...

after trying everything you could think of to tell her it's really you, you realize that she wont catch on

after shes done getting ready for work she starts to wonder how to care for you

eventually decides on just bringing you in to work and hiding you the whole day

luckily jumin had back to back meetings so he wouldnt have any time to check in on what jaehee was doing

she tries to feed you something you absolutely hate and when you refuse to eat it she says

wow, MC hates eating these too

you wag your tail, jump, can dogs nod? if so you nod your head, etc etc trying to tell her that IT IS ME IT IS MC!!!'sisj@;!/&:&82

wait...there's no way. am i crazy or did you turn into a dog?

jaehee decides to bring you home instead of turning you into a shelter just in case

when you turn human again you guys strategize a plan, should this ever happen to either of you again haha

Jumin

when he wakes up and sees you (as a dog) and elizabeth playing he thinks hes still sleeping

intense eye rubbing

he calls for you and you keep running to him

but he doesnt understand :c

similar to yoosung, he double checks to see if it was a significant date or anything

now he starts to panic

on the RFA panic scale, he is at the tippity top eue

calls off from work and calls for all the help he can get

you can communicate with elizabeth i guESS so she helps you communicate with jumin

jumin looks crazy as hell rn with a cat and dog on his bed, trying to talk to them

elizabeth points at you then points at your jacket on a chair 900 times and then jumin finally connects the dots!!!

oH SO MC TURNED INTO A DOG???

you and elizabeth are like ugh oh my gosh finally

jumin calls off all the emergency protocol stuff and simply chills with you and elizabeth until youre back to your human body

now you and elizabeth have a stronger bond...how beautiful.

707/Saeyoung

luckily seven has security cameras, so when he sees you in dog form, youre sitting at his computer

the cctv footage of you somehow transforming into a dog plays and hes like oh what how is that eVEN POSSIBLE?

downloads the cctv footage to save it forever

unfortunately no dog food or anything there so he feeds you whatever is in the fridge and okay for dogs to eat

he has his fun, taking photos of you and imitating paris hilton

when vanderwood walks in to check on him, seven cant stop laughing as he explains the situation

he shares all of his photos with the rfa chat and no one believes him

and then he stops and starts thinking

??? MC are you naked? like when we sleep and you transform back....are you gonna be naked?

oh my gOSH

unlike the others he doesnt stay up and goes to sleep with you

whatever u do, do not let seven make a birthday slideshow of u </3

V

V would freak out, but definitely try to communicate with you as a dog before doing the absolute most

checks for human you everywhere, and when he realizes youre nowhere, he begins to consider the fact that you may have turned into a dog

googles it

he questions you, like zen does, and begins to think hes going insane

he texts you, just in case human you did go out and forgot to tell him

but while texting he scrolled up and saw a text you sent him a day ago while you were shopping

"if i were a worm would you still love me"

he picks you up and sits with you on the couch

worm, dog, human...i love you regardless. but not in an immoral and weird way. :)

spends the rest of the day taking you out to do dog things

like walking at the park and taking cute photos of you

at the end of the day he actually showers you, and talks to you until you both fall asleep

when u guys wake up he says,

i didnt waste $17 on dog shampoo for nothing...why dont we go out and get a real dog now?

yES LETS DO THAT

#was this cute #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger yoosung #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger 707 #mystic messenger V #elizabeth the 3rd #mystic messenger imagines

[mirab3lle]

Copied from Facebook:

Before you head out to join any protest, take what you need from this. The longer these protests go on, the more important this guide gets.

Short protest guide -

Street protests are erupting in major cities across America. We should be preparing. Get your friends/ crew/ affinity groups together. Decide on roles.

Wear black head-to-toe.

Masks up (you can do this with a black t-shirt, google Piqueteros).

Comfortable footwear for being on your feet potentially for an entire day.

The more uniform everyone looks the harder it is for the state to identify who did what (no face no case).

Wear another color under your black in case you need to strip it off to blend into the general population.

Bring extra PPE to assist everyone in preventing the spread of Covid-19.

Strikers should move to the role of unarresting/ interveneing physically against police violence.

Pad your dominant forearm to absorb baton blows (it may save you a broken arm).

It's everyone's job to assist medics in collecting supplies and lending a hand when called on during an emergency.

Call for a medic with both arms crossed over your head. "Medic"!!

In the event chemical irritants are deployed, eyes are washed with water (street medics have moved away from maylox in recent years).

Do not wear contacts if you can help it/

wear eye protection.

When medics offer a snack or water, take it (you need it).

If someone goes down sheild them with your body as they are vulnerable to attack/ trampling.

Keep the cameras off injured peoples (short spray paint cans are good for taking care of camera lenses that refuse to move).

After the action check in with medics. Medics are notoriously the worst at self-care during crisis and deal with major trauma. Show them care and emotional support.

Stay mobile, avoid being cornered/ kettled/ flanked. Cops will yell loudly/ concussion grenades are fucking loud. Their noise is meant to rattle and disorient you.

Tear gas cannisters will burn a naked hand. They should be returned with at least a 100% cotton gloved hand to the cops that shot them/ covered with something like a traffic cone.

Never turn your back to an attacker, do not run. Eyes constantly scan outside the crowd. Remain hyper-vigilant at all times.

Leave no one behind.

In the event of arrest, do not tell cops anything, not even what you had for breakfast (everybody walks when nobody talks).

Legal teams are already working to get you out/ bail is already being raised internationally. When the protest is over everyone who is able should go to the jail to stand in solidarity until everyone is released (there are exceptions, legal will help make that call).

Write the legal number on your body in multiple places with sharpie.

In the event trans/non-binary comrades are arrested or detained, cis people MUST go to jail with them. If you have to cross the police line or sit in the middle of the street to get this done, do it. We never let trans/non-binary comrades go to jail alone.

This also applies to white people when POC are arrested. We protect the most marginalized in our ranks.

One person not in the street needs critical info for those arrested. Real names/ DOB/ medications/ etc. Write it down somewhere safe off-site, burn it later. Do NOT use Google Docs or other online forms. These are insecure and subject to subpoena.

This is non-sectarian defense. We may have beef outside the protest, but in the street we stand shoulder-to-shoulder. We protect each other, we have each other's backs.

Somethings I dont see mentioned in the information this person kindly complied:

Sharpie your legal defense and or family's phone numbers onto your person in case you're arrested

In Hong Kong they used laser pointers to dazzle CCTV, police, and drones, but it take a large portion of the crowd know this trick and using it

Set up barricades, dont lose any ground

Use mobile barricades and riot shields, literally form a phalanx to keep from losing ground

Take out CCTV, dont forgot about the traffic cameras. These are disproportionately installed in black neighborhoods anyway.

If public transport is still open bring cash/change so you cant be tracked

Use radio or bluetooth messaging apps such as Bridgefy to stay in communication when cell signal is busy or jammed

#protest #riot #tactics #minneapolis #minnesota #george floyd #derek chauvin #blm #black lives matter

[ufonaut]

Pretend Brainwave/Icicle - RUMOURS - "Jordan and Henry have been roommates for years. They're NOT dating, but no one has to know that." [Bonus points: a HIM?! moment from disappointed ice parents, being asked advice about their relationship, or a moment of prejudice against them]

early days, pre-fully formed isa. going off the assumption sofus was the og ice gun icicle

---

It takes a couple knocks and the incessant ringing of the doorbell to get Jordan rushing to the door, slip-sliding in socks on the hardwood floor. For the longest time, once he’s reached his destination, he stands there in his pyjamas and sleep-mussed hair and doesn’t understand what he’s looking at. It’s unlike him to forget.

“Lenge siden sist, sønn,” says Sofus. He and Lily share twin smiles, held back from a hug by sheer virtue of the fact that Jordan has -- figuratively, for once -- frozen in place.

No, no, no, no.

It can’t be today. Jordan’s sure he’d jotted down the date somewhere, excited to see his parents for the first time since the holidays, pleasantly content with the thought of showing off the little life he’s built for himself and the apartment and a best friend that’s taken a leave of absence every time he’s been asked-slash-begged to tag along. A year since he’s left home and the rebirth of the Injustice Society of America has started taking shape. It’s enough for a vague air of self-satisfaction, a desire to prove he’s worthy of taking on his father’s name.

None of that had included anything less than perfection. Jordan likes his plans to hold up to the light.

He glances back at what can be seen of the living room where he’s holding the door open just a crack and cringes at the stack of medical textbooks on the coffee table, the abandoned cups of coffee and the endless papers Henry’s left behind. The place tends to be neat and tidy by mutual preference alone, far from the typical bachelor pad, it’s just-- today’s been... busy.

Oh, god.

Maybe Jordan did forget.

“I’m so sorry,” he starts, springs into action with the kind of panicked grace that has Jordan nearly slamming the door into his own face before he swings it open enough to draw his mother into a hug. “I completely forgot, I mean-- I didn’t but then-- Henry wasn’t feeling great and I--”

This halfway deranged rambling gets, thankfully, interrupted in due time.

“I don’t know what language you’re thinking in but I can hear you from the bedroom-- Oh.”

And that’s Henry, who’s also got pyjamas on and his hair is all loose, messy curls like he’s been running his fingers through it. Come to think of it, he probably has, might’ve even woken up when Jordan had clambered out of bed to investigate the sudden company. Jordan knows what it looks like and knows what it isn’t but the two notions refuse to come together in any reasonable form of denial when Lily mouths him? in Norwegian and Jordan feels frost crawling up his cheeks. He’s got enough ice coming to make an apocalyptic wasteland out of the whole building, he can feel it fighting to burst out of him.

There’s a simple explanation that deigns to get more complicated as it runs laps around Jordan’s head.

Henry had woken up with a migraine, an unfortunately common side-effect of his growing powers, and Jordan had wanted to help despite the way his heart had leaped in his chest at the thought, the distinct pleasure of being needed that’s never been anything a friend should feel. They’ve come to refer it as the ice thing, this little trick Jordan’s developed to numb the pain. It works just fine, unspoken intimacy included even when Henry’s dozing off on him. Jordan just hadn’t realised it’s taken the better part of the day until... well, now. There’s something like guilt prodding at the back of his mind.

“No, no, we’re not-- Actually, um, could you come by later? I’ll call you!” Jordan’s smiling wide but it might be the saddest attempt the world’s ever seen.

At the very least, his parents merely exchange a look and nod. There could be more to be said about it, Jordan wouldn’t know because he slams the door shut without entirely meaning to and cringes at the sound. His hand’s frozen to the handle.

“We’re not what, Jordan?” Henry asks, sharp or otherwise offended about the interruption.

Jordan sighs.

---

*trans: long time no see, son (norwegian speakers dont kill me, i googled it extensively)

#jordan mahkent #henry king sr #icewave #stargirl #brainwave #icicle #fic #u can reblog #THIS IS VERY SHORT BUT HOPEFULLY FUN? I HOPE ITS FUN #anon #ask

[zaritarazi]

you never properly explained your family’s history with bowling and i demand answers

okay see this is what i need because we all know that i have pretty bad ADHD, and i wanted to do this and keep forgetting so here it is, the family history of bowling. this somehow became 1100 words. i hope everyone’s happy. i hope everyone’s proud

so first of all i BELIEVE my mother’s dad was in a local bowling league. when i say bowling league, i mean a bunch of italian american men hanging out at a bowling alley in the 70s, absolutely smoking cigarettes indoors, which i think personally is the way bowling was meant to be experienced

--

in high school my dad was a stoner and again, the 70s, a time with literally no rules for white people, which i guess is like now, but the legal drinking age in america was still 18 and that’s i think the only difference ANYWAY

listen i’ll level with you. i’m not sure my dad ever went to classes. like my dad is smart enough that he could doing passingly well despite skipping, constantly, i dont know in the 70s did they just let you toke up in class? it seems like they did. everyone had a bowl haircut also

anyway so if you attended public school in the united states, federal law mandates that if you’re able-bodied you have to have gym class, k-12. and like by the time i was in hs gym call was like, done in 5 different classes you’d take throughout the year and some of them were like, go work out in the weight room. some of them were yoga. seniors get first pick of the gym classes obviously so i didn’t get to take “elementary games” until then which is when they let you do all the fun things you’d do in like a 3rd grade gym class, but you’re not in third grade, you’re 17 years old and you are so fucking tired

also, yes, you do have to change for gym class,,, private schools if they have gym will usually have gym uniforms to go with the regular uniforms but again i went to public school it was soffe shorts with the oversized shirt and also, i’ve had the same pair of “running” sneakers for literally 15 years because i’m... not a runner... those are my gym shoes,,, and yes i have been the same shoe size since i was 12 we don’t need to go into it

OKAY BOWLING. so no idea what gym was like in the 70s tbqh, but my dad and i DID go to the same high school just 32 years apart and some of the gym teachers my dad had were STILL there. this was not great for me as my dad i think maybe never went to gym class once in his entire high school career to the point where in 1978, a time where people really just let anything happen, the high school was like okay listen you need gym credit or you’re not graduating 

so the high school at that point still had a bowling alley and they were like okay just come after school every day and bowl for a month and you’ll graduate and like. in MY day if you missed gym class they made you “run” laps. i put run in quotes because once you hit that age where you realize gym teachers can’t actually make you do anything, they’ll just be slightly beleaguered when you refuse to run the mile, every year, twice a year, 8 times, me, i did this, because as long as you get the mile done it counts! watch me walk at a moderate pace bitch

anyway my dad bowled after school with all his stoner friends that also needed gym credit and because he’s an early birthday (february) he could legally buy beer and like, you’d think the gym teacher supervising them would be like hey i know you’re legal but this is school property. i think the mistake i’m making here is assuming they had supervision when i know they didn’t

—

additionally my parents took me and my sister up to MA for like a solid month every year until i went to college and then my parents just started going themselves bc they were like, if rachel is in the house it doesnt count as child abandonment LATER but anyway

of course when you have kids in 2001 and only the 1 family computer you must take them bowling there is nothing else to do it is massachusetts and nothing can grow here so the bowling alley they took us to was candlepin bowling which is like. a weird form of bowling that according to google only occurs in canada and new england. the pins are much narrower and like 1 cylindrical shape and the ball is hand-sized like a bocce ball. anyway my dad is still pretty good at bowling and my mom is super competitive so the fact that she wasn’t better than him at bowling,,,, an experience

fun fact my parents once got my sister and me a bocce ball/croquet set up and let me tell you, i have never once not cheated at a game of croquet. it’s how i’m so good at it bay bee

—

also in the 5th grade i asked a boy on a “group date” to the cool new like, mall thing that had a movie theater and bowling alley and let me tell you, this bitch was the TALK of the town. that guy was so nice but he had such severe depression i think we were accidentally at a party together during a college winter or summer break and he was like yeah i was really going through it and i was like huh. i’m not going to address my trauma but good for you

—

here’s what tim told me:

me: honey you have a history with bowling right?

tim: a history with bowling

me: you have like your own bowling ball

tim: i have 3

so. he found a bowling ball at the lanes and he did really well and so he was like hey can i buy this and they were like honestly that’s an old fucking ball keep it then he won another bowling ball. he is informing he he won bowling competitions when he was a child?!?!? he goes to union and “”””accidentally””” befriends a bunch of bowling nerds. hold on he’s really going OFF about how good he is at bowling. what have you done. when he transferred to penn state they had a monthly bowling night 

and he’s like so there’s this girl named [redacted] and she bet me $20 i couldn’t get all the pins if i bowled underhand through my legs and i got a SPARE and she never gave me $20 anyway she messaged me like 7 or 8 months ago bc she had a student that she thought i could talk to and i showed him the video of me getting that spare and he showed it to her and she never contacted me again

me: why did she want you to talk to this student

tim: oh to talk about the manufacturing business

#self tag #long post #perhaps the saddest story of all time #Anonymous #asks

[sirjustice922]

Environment of the boom process

Even animals both with us and wild, pets, birds and rodents can form part of the environment of the boom process and even their feces like with roads built under many chicken or chamama tree plants or corpse or many people standing the other way along the road. Sky scrapper are built on wheat land of armored glass then carried via many cargo drones resembling the many hotel posh lights or the environment being old rugged clothes or polythene bags of left garbage dude

Pay-TV made under flower plantations and internet as with sky-scrapper or pumpkin/melon plantations or wild sun-flower plantations as with many necessities as foods or soap are made under sewer water leakage or the rugged polythene bags as above or sweet potato plantations and can be placed on many TV or plastic made and still do.

Flowers made under mango plantations or garlic or tamarind as okwaju and well try with other veggies as cabbage and more tree leaves dude. Metal bars made under wheat plantation or cattle herb or birds surrounding the heap of the boom process dude

Soda bottle lids on used polythene or cattle outermost leg part or human corpse palm then u rub paint brush on metallic parts or on grass or wood makes jets, drones and fighter choppers dude when u Rab both ya hands with oil in between with cattle feet makes furniture.

Sugar made in cocoa plant environment or coconut while, frying oil in reared chicken environment or hay and more as u try, Iron sheet in rye lands or cold water on the ground as sleet or kale or orange lands as nail in grass or autumn colored leaf lands dude

U don't have pecha, only got 1 that can be eaten, pay ya rent and take ya one kid to school, yet u wanna control others, kinda, developing a radar to monitor those u want to defeat with some youths who have not identified themselves, if u want a political post, still, u aint rich as those dubious Lupe holes of getting illicit cash all now blocked dude. Don’t fight but mend ya self homie

Sometimes play gets into 1 even in business if their is something of a handicap which is open yet not resolved, as a new billionaire in Town ought to be a new billionaire in town, let him be compensated or those sending cash to his a/c anonymous do so he get down to diffuse the puzzle above dude, if u did not know 4 ya information bro, its a spirit dude

Most electrical appliances are made in bean plantation dude and even with gold ware, where u chop kale or break sticks when folded photo of the same placed in sewer water or grass or trample on veggies as hoho or carrot or anything as even feces dude. With sky scrapper u place the folded photo in sewer water and even with more products then trample on hoho or onion and even with fab houses and even chop mango seed, purple fruit seed or chop corpse or meat of different animals as just trying until u get what u want dude in wheat land with tall building or kale and in guava or leaf onion land with fab houses dude, with generator is wild sunflower or finger-like leaf plantations as sweet potato. Computer made in cassava lands, tv in paw paw lands, phones in Euphorbia lands and stereo in sewer infested lands which can be man made dude. Internet in guava lands or kale where u take every folded photo as in the below link and place in sewer water or grass b4 u chop or drop something to come out with it in such mention above environment as even with telephone, TV or wireless E-meters or water meters dude. Just get it from the net the photo dude and make it homie

https://www.google.com/search?source=univ&tbm=isch&q=internet+servers+images&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj-qPeLqbvsAhVR5eAKHb5fCrQQjJkEegQIAxAB&biw=1280&bih=910#imgrc=0xGLVnKG5uDNIM

https://satoms.com/satellite-internet/

U r above me Girl, we got everything we could not get on cash but u still all ahead and i salute ya, me paying it for 5 years while u pay it for 2 years as your daily payment much higher than mine, bravo dude, kinda like, having sex many time with me and having small ejaculation amount as with you u take long and ya man ejaculation to ya much dude. Who enjoys the thing and 1 one else than you dude, to leave me behind as away dude. Congrats bro when money still in place liaised with phone company to take their share immediately when u add credit to ya phone so u cant run openly from it and when liquid money eliminated the easier dude as it has insurance in-case u r incapacitated or incarcerated behind bars dude and the same gimmick can be employed to child insurance or phone or fab houses or any property so every tom hurry and dick has it to alleviate jealousy dude and u dont disturb others with ya kid in times futurity and in present times. Every1 carries his sex luggage or burden, or may it not be children are bought from nearby market to want to disturb us with them, maybe we know not and if so tell us the reality so we know dude

With fab houses as above folded photo in sewer water or grass then chop melons, guava 4 sky scrapper b4 carrying on many cargo drones dude, the environment can be swampy lands or deserts or leaf onion and more dude

Jeans  made when few samples placed in grass then u chop carrot or avocado or  drop hay while truck pants is same way but you hurl acid on the floor.

Sports  wear is as of soccer place in grass then u drop cucumber or chop  avocado seed and of American football same but u chop cauliflower or  drop carrots

Shoes is sample placed in grass u drop tomato or hit  guava seeds with hammer or drop medical bottles while sports shoe sample  in grass then chop oranges or divide sticks with panga or peel cabbage  or anything that can be peeled that got layers dude

Iron sheet,  sample in grass then fall jack-fruit or chop pears or drop beans or peas  while with nail is few sample then chop cabbage or paw paw while  welding plates is few sample in grass chop hoho or drop oranges dude  while with welding bars is sample in grass then chop tomato or drop  black beans and more dude and even serving bowl, plates and cups sample  can be placed in grass and many people you locate what to drop as  veggies, berries, fruits or leaves and even cereals dude and even to  chop or peel changing the environment as even forests, deserts, on  alter, basement, holes, hilltop and side, swamps or plateau etc dude 4  better outcome dude. And even with machines like military ware can be  made that way or folded photo placed inside grass in such named  environment and the procedures as mentioned above and even with all  foods and all wear and E-accessories or medicine made that way dude

With  jets when u place like cassava across their mouths and one protruding  on top of the mouth then u wash your hands as rinse with cold water on  the basin while on tap gives ya fighter choppers when water cold, drones  when hot and when lukewarm still choppers, if u pull ya overall  squatted still makes jets while standing makes choppers and when u wash  ya hands kinda bent back gives ya big airplane and caress one booty in  swampy forests land gives you like tanks military where not with the  above method but others of making such described to ya earlier dude

You  admire staff yet can not buy, so locate people who got that prowess to  buy to be their pals to enjoy and u know not such accessories aint  household but 4 hotel, so ya friends must have the power to build one  which if they do they place the above accessories u like and even him  will not be in that hotel to enjoy and even u if u dont work there and  with ya conduct wont accept that little cash to enjoy seeing such so  ends up with broken hearts only to know that good things of this life  are made for others their in short time as bus ride or hotel spending  and when they became common they bores u off cause now got reduced price  and cheap, the thing is let much be made small and big so u buy ya self  on credit if u cant buy in cash which u hate cause much people u hate  will have same and wont make u happy and ends u with broken heart as it  robs ya your dignity and self-hood now wishing ya-self death or take a  flight outside the hood to hide ya-self dude or locate a poor young  person to love of understanding to give ya mind leverage dude

Folded photo in grass then drop hoho many from a bag or chop onion or school old shoes makes the inn in the link below

https://www.travelrepublic.co.uk/2-2903999/wesley-inn-wichita

When u mix helium gas with siren gas, helium heats up faster to heat the siren speedily when gas nozzle opened shallowly or when bulb light deem when the siren gas cylinder is of armored glass to make air-planes and jets that are hyper-sonic or even missiles and that risk of gas nozzle overheating or the bulb burning heavily reduced dude as in the link below

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helium

Made in Mauritania drones in the link below

https://www.africanaerospace.aero/africa-in-the-drone-zone.html#comment

Building sand sample few place in grass then drop graveli or many garden flowers or chop cattle bones or fall soda/liquor bottles unto the floor with garbage

Most gadgets are made next to a large water mas like a lake 4 example caskets while others like small e-Equipment and Radios next to streams with water fall as try with every vegetation and plantation with others that not out like with desert landscape features and other physical features dude like in the link below apple in guava then onion makes the casket below or drop spinach or hurl with hoho or brush paint brush on tangerine or hurl tangerine juice unto the heap dude

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nairaland.com%2Fattachments%2F1114853_cas1_jpg8b5ae75fc6f7ee21518bcf13c597140a&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nairaland.com%2F1296013%2Fcaskets-usa-door-nigeria&tbnid=3RVuL5_JcvVfBM&vet=12ahUKEwjFitDtmLTsAhUEVhoKHYazBtUQMygSegUIARDJAQ..i&docid=qJvn-ME7voYx3M&w=550&h=306&q=casket%20made%20in%20nigeria%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwjFitDtmLTsAhUEVhoKHYazBtUQMygSegUIARDJAQ#imgrc=3RVuL5_JcvVfBM&imgdii=9Y7f8lHIFPNuRM

Or folded photo in cassava drop passion or chilies 4 the metallic one or chop corpse or plastic containers

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fs.alicdn.com%2F%40sc01%2Fkf%2FH915fd6619954455f9bca68d5df791a4fO.jpg_300x300.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.alibaba.com%2Fshowroom%2Fbrands-of-casket.html&tbnid=PkMuGvVFrvJK7M&vet=12ahUKEwiNpcHwmrTsAhUN7xoKHRbqB6wQMygCegQIARAv..i&docid=Z0aDPPO0gBWW2M&w=300&h=300&q=metalic%20casket%20made%20in%20nigeria%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiNpcHwmrTsAhUN7xoKHRbqB6wQMygCegQIARAv

Sometimes u drop the veggies or fruits described above on cotton wool instead of grass and even on others.

This jet takes like one hr to NY from many Tropical African cities like Kampala or Nairobi or Kigali as in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=wQSHX_azFaiHjLsPj5KEuA8&q=ny+distance+from+kampala+in+km&oq=ny+distance+from+kampala+in+km&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CbngFYmKkBYMa1AWgAcAJ4AIABwAOIAdsSkgEFMy02LjGYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6yAEIwAEB&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwi2mL3Cn7TsAhWoA2MBHQ8JAfcQ4dUDCAw&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&q=8000+mph+equals+to+how+many+km/hr

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/256283035022566272/

Rye grain place in cabbage then chop kunde becomes much or place in kale then drop alantana camara seeds comes much. While with rice place in kale then chop guava tree branches or fall black beans and with wheat place in cabbage drop lemon or chop corpse esp hands while with sesame place in cabbage drop oranges or chop green grass and boom much made dude

Choppers are made on mountain like small islands on the lake or sea with many more try dude if ya lands got such islands or make artificial ones dude as in the link below

https://newscastars.com/meet-the-talented-man-who-built-helicopter-for-nigerian-army/

Folded photo in hay drop passion fruit makes fighter helicopter in the link below or chop kale stick or avocado seed or masturbate a kid dude

https://www.vanguardngr.com/2019/10/naf-makes-history-wings-first-female-fighter-pilot-first-female-combat-helicopter-pilot/

Folded photo in cabbage then drop wheat grain or sorghum or chop mango or break sticks makes the E-fighter jet in the link below dude

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2FA1SJS0B2NeA%2Fmaxresdefault.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DA1SJS0B2NeA&tbnid=q4ff5wuleh4E2M&vet=12ahUKEwi27r2HqLTsAhUOgM4BHWS8AIUQMygGegUIARC8AQ..i&docid=NzsXaZW23PZoEM&w=1280&h=720&q=Electric%20fighter%20jet%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwi27r2HqLTsAhUOgM4BHWS8AIUQMygGegUIARC8AQ

cassava in hay then chop or drop guava or banana and boom the airplane in the link below, made in plateau or flat lowlands amidst hills

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fcleantechnica.com%2Ffiles%2F2019%2F04%2FUTC-Hybrid-Electric-Airplane-Project-804.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fcleantechnica.com%2F2019%2F08%2F27%2Fnew-electric-aircraft-motor-lab-aims-for-1mw-electric-airplane-motor%2F&tbnid=0txlknWAQ5SAWM&vet=12ahUKEwiQ3_GYqbTsAhWj8IUKHbvcCLkQMygXegUIARD2AQ..i&docid=YsqjFw9qsR9-qM&w=2880&h=1620&q=electric%20airplane%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiQ3_GYqbTsAhWj8IUKHbvcCLkQMygXegUIARD2AQ

Uganda water powered generator in the link below dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVIGtQ2BeG8

In the link below fold photo of 1 tank as well as others placed inside any veggies, grass, leaves or fruits and chop another same mentioned prior or fall and boom ya tank in the swamps, valley with rivers or forests or shrubs dude

https://www.hotcars.com/these-are-the-fastest-tanks-ever-made/

semi raw/ripe Paw paw in guava then roll already kneed dough like making tortilla or break/chop to drop tangerine or oranges make cooking oil in the boom process in day light u looking the other way dude or try with dark alter as mentioned above

Jets and many air-planes are made in such islands while some caskets on slightly elevated roads from the ground and more machines or gadgets and even our daily necessities like food dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6DMoxNyk50

Flax-seed made much when few sample placed in hay then roll tortilla as above or drop oranges or millet dude while linseed made when few samples placed in hay and chop avocado or divide tortilla as cut into many pieces using the knife bro

Few pieces in cabbage then chop corpse or drop Melons 4 coconut while 4 Olive fruit is few pieces in kale then chop kunde or drop alantana camara tree stem sticks or tooth picks while 4 the oil itself u place few liters in container in cabbage then u chop kale or kunde or carrot or drop like flowers or transparent biro pens and boom much made dude

cotton seed is made much when few samples placed in carrot then u chop kale or drop cabbage on the floor with clothes or grass or gunia dude while the cotton itself made when few kilos placed inside grass then drop avocado or chop cucumber

Towels made when few samples placed in grass then chop kale or drop eggs to break or medical bottles dude

Palm kernel seed made when few samples placed in guava then pour acid on water or drop carrots or brush paint brush on watery surfaces dude

Rapeseed made when few samples placed in grass then u fall mango or chop sweet banana or hurl green grams down the floor while with soy beans u placed few samples in raw mango then divide corpse like hand or alantana camara tree sticks or drop flowers or yam under shower the heap dude 4 fresh green 1 and 4 dry 1 fall green grams dude

With palm oil seed u place few samples in grass then chop millet in a sack or fall camara stick or avocado or chop kale dude and 4 the oil is carrot in hay drop paw paw or chop cassava or brush paint brush board used partitioning computers in the office or cyber or the modern furniture boards.

Cabbage made when sample placed in guava then u drop kale heap or chop spinach or break sticks or carrots and boom ya much cabbage while with kale place in guava then chop mango or drop avocado or pixie fruit while with tomato u place in kale then chop heap of grass or drop melons or fall maize on millet dude as with onion u place in cabbage heap then pour millet on water or chop carrots dude

Even radar controlled missiles they got and operate as the drone service in the link below that can cross seas dude to make ya to relent dude, Me hate seeing people who wants to control others dude

http://www.mtv.com/news/2945787/rwanda-drone-delivery-network/

When u give kids food stuff they hold grudges with ya as wishing they were in the same state 4 u to give them instead of the kid developing as well jealousy with such kids and even just starting ya on the way wanting u to get what they are saying which if u refute they meet to signal each others as if they got well plan to create beef with ya dude

Guava in hay break sticks or cut/chop carrots makes big Air-plane as in the link below or folded photo in grass hurl with paw paw seed or guava or hurl carrot or shoes on water dude in lonely islands dude

https://www.newtimes.co.rw/news/rwandair-touches-down-guangzhou

Paw paw in hay drop/chop mfenesi or folded photo in cabbage drop hay or chop wheat or hurl maize cereal into kale or chop maize cobs makes maka as dry-cells in English dude

Folded photo of all the above in the below link in hay in swampy lands then drop cabbage on grass grown or heap or chop leaf onion or drop alantana camara dark seeds or dark beans dude

https://www.dlight.com/product/x850/

https://www.bboxx.com/about/#/awards

am poverty stricken, should be declared as u declare ya wealth dude, donge

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyEW-Yr7RK4

Egypt made radar missiles in the link below dude

http://english.ahram.org.eg/NewsContentP/1/337243/Egypt/INTERVIEW-Egyptian-Air-Defence-Forces-Commander-Al.aspx

https://www.instructables.com/Wind-Generator-With-Car-Alternator/

Dont take one plight with another and bring it to the present to pin him down and get triumph with women as to give him guilt, bad character dude, carry ya own burden, the fellow whom told ya the friend guilt wont bail ya or accommodate ya problem as more wish death 4 ya dude. Stop and mind ya life or u wont get promotion bro

lauwruok gi kebi en ka yiem nono, kata jaluo jodong'oo ose unearth the truth, according to buch jodong'o, en kaka nons wacho in kadha song, enliech moketo speed tee to waseluor owadwa, nons nose neno chon, okwanyal bwana, in line with buch jodong’o

Folded photo of GOLD bar in grass heap in lemon plantation or guava then chop mango or drop oranges like from a basket makes gold in the boom process and while with jets the environment can be oranges plantation and with other gadget made get to another landscape or plantation and boom can be formed as with missile cactus plantation, jets grass, Big airplane sugar cane, tanks euphorbia plantation as the environment, buses eggs or kale plantation, fire truck cassava plantations and more dude. Even gold bar piece in grass then chop kale on hilltop or side makes gold in the boom process or fall hay in pumpkin or another veggie, leaves or fruits on another as mentioned dude with any gadget bro

Russian made own internet in the link below dude

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-50902496

https://techcrunch.com/2019/12/26/russia-starts-testing-its-own-internal-internet/

Mr T kebi who her daughter and he wants to get into their relationship yet all are grown up and kebi says not a must so many women and he gets furious. Why friends? He wants to ride on kebi thinking he is rich as they got prime land which with their crew they plan kidnaps and killings even if kebi has gone to another land not wanting that land saying Kenya rich that that land kebi has gone to that they built those fab houses made in boom process only to understand their lie that those houses are made as cars they have now known to built and say most wood pulp used in like Eu or USA and those used in building those wooden houses are from Congo, gotten illegally yet now they make the same in the boom process to make them not known themselves and how in USA once people are in plan of buying house or house appliance they can work 3 days a week to create twice employment as opposed to African where one works all day to get those gadgets and houses above on cash or under huge loans they pay which aint extended to every1 so theft, jealousy and killings. Kikuyu u did not build USA now and u know dude, stop bothering others with ya nonsensical issues and heaping such politics on 1 trying to tell ya the truth previously and u refuted even wanting to kill him as hindering ya games and when Georgia state and North Carolina got their own military vehicle out of the soft drinks coca cola and Pepsi respectively they became world richest nations whether u kithni or u ndekni and when such drinks are placed in Automated vending machines and Nigeria did not have radar missile at that time and many african nations to take Otutu generator, dismantle copy the lay out and claim lien b4 Mr Kenyatta Ohuru went to SA and Russia to discuss about the above to officiate such and make their but a blessing in disguise as Luo character know as kikuyu did not want to as kenyatta told them maybe dude and Innovation is 1 man guitar and head that way bro

Another trait being monitored is u want from 1 by force and even wanting to put up a fight and even u had grudges with one but when he is nothing not close to him but in triumph u want to be his friend oblivious of the heart to him or industrious but jealous 4 nothing towards one progress, such tree and roots must be cut an eliminated in 1 way or another as what they eye which is free like cash crops and hard drugs when can be made much in the boom process and known to many they resort to the character above which after many years when not addressed can kill the whole race as far as business operation is cornered and even those who are blind as adults, many, wanting from 1 person who in reality can only just take care of a girl friend. Such names written and noted fit 4 elimination as explained above dude.

The Rwanda or SA drone system a mini-missile can be mounted on his mouth to meet a big jet or missile to detonate dude even that 1 which got night vision as in the links below, Some even eject mini-missiles as in the link below which made when folded photo placed paw paw heap then hay chopped or cauliflower or u drop kale or peas in lonely island on the big land falling waterfall is seen or on river course with cataracts or slight water falls dude. Defeat the enemy bro, wisely or guava in hay then fall paw paw on coconut or brush paint brush on brown surfaces like dry grass or boards.

https://www.edrmagazine.eu/idex-2019-lig-nex1-unveils-40-mm-mini-missile

https://www.military.com/defensetech/2015/10/12/raytheon-displays-new-mini-rocket-for-special-forces-infantry

https://www.newsweek.com/rwanda-begins-drone-deliveries-blood-509906

https://www.africanmilitaryblog.com/2017/11/here-are-some-of-south-african-made-weapons

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.suasnews.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2011%2F08%2Fseeker400.jpeg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.suasnews.com%2F2011%2F08%2Fdenel-seeker-400-ready-for-test-flights%2F&tbnid=zL58MCj9A2OaEM&vet=12ahUKEwjiutTB8rjsAhUNgM4BHfXkAFsQMygQegUIARCqAQ..i&docid=Z_VJaGFHaFQmjM&w=300&h=200&q=Seeker%20400%20UAV%20images&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwjiutTB8rjsAhUNgM4BHfXkAFsQMygQegUIARCqAQ

When everything can be on credit as BBoxx or D-light then every 1 can buy so no 1 in one house and even with fab houses

The jet in the link below made in orange plantations, ships on burnt wood/charcoal surface, yacht on beans, carrot vegetation or next to or coconut while generators in swampy banana lands esp sweet 1 or green grams or sugarcane while laptops in kale while computer in onion plantations, E-buses pineapple, car in apple plantations or papyrus reeds, pay-TV in sweet potato plantations, internet in paw paw plantations, and with others try in every fruit, veggies or grown anything dude

http://www.modelingmadness.com/review/allies/us/usaaf/p51/pease51.htm

The jet above made when kale placed in cabbage then break sticks or chop mango or folded photo in kale drop hay on grass or chop old clothes or euphorbia while with big jets made in area of heap of mangoes or hay or tea plantation and even fixed just 4 that purpose dude

Wood pulp made in ice-lands or broken glass bottles, dry vegetation as grass lands where few placed in grass then green grams or sticks or maize cob or drop hoho or maize as in the link below

http://www.paperpulping.com/application/wood-pulp-making.html

[tfw-no-tennis]

hxh RESUME

back at it again w/the hxh, heres my recap of the last few eps 

ok so i totally forgot to recap that one ep at the end of the hunter exam arc lets see what i remember from like 3 wks ago lollll

i thiiiiink i left off in the middle of ep 21 lol. i really dont remember much tbh so im gonna skim the ep to refresh

exposition time! its so wild that if you lose ur hunter card That It like u cant get another or retake the exam hgabjdfuhasjf Ls 

also the fact that you can sell it is rlly interesting 

leorio & kurapika backing up gon as he confronts illumi again :’) good lil family 

illumi u fool. gon is a shounen protag. he can do anything he sets his mind to

the fact that gon thanks illumi for telling him where killua is....hes literally THAT polite like...what a perfect boy 

hisoka just fuckgin stepping out of the shadows....ok bitch 

the fact that gon fucked up illumis arm that bad with one hand....boi is STRONK 

AUGH AUGH AUGHHHH HISOKA IS SO CREEPY AUGHHH I HATE THIS BIIIITCH 

ok but like is illumi implying that hisoka is a fr p*do bc uhhhhh thats so nasty oh lord. pls stay away from gon, and killua, and like everyone as a matter of fact 

EWWWWWWWWWW I HATE HISOKA HES SO NASTY. PLS STOP MAKING P*RNO FACES IN RELATION TO 12 YR OLD BOYS. 

no but rlly what IS hisoka gonna do now. im assuming he’ll show up p soon (tho probs not in the zoldyc arc like i thought bc its shorter than i thought) 

ok the fact that they have the internet is hilariously wild to me for some reason....it just seems like this would be one of those fantasy shounen worlds with very little tech (a la one piece) but lol nope we can just google shit hvbhjdhjdfks

gon: it was fun when you beat me up for 3 hours and broke my arm! seeya dude!

i love gon he is so chill and doesnt seem to hold grudges except when it really matters (like hisoka and illumi) 

hanzo has.....ninja business cards....thats amazing hvbhsdjkujfnd

dont worry pokkle, leorio was basically carried thru the hunter exam by various people and also won by default. he still deserves his license tho

an exotic game hunter sounds pretty cool! i wonder if we’ll see pokkle again. kinda doubt it? that sounds pretty firmly non-combat based, and therefore probably pretty far from any plot lol

so gons dad is a bigshot huh.....whatever hed be a bigger deal if he didnt abandon his son tbh 

gon swinging his feet on the bench....sooo cute 

so ging could restore a bunch of ruins but he couldnt raise his son...ok

im just gonna be bitter at this guy for abandoning the most perfect boy vhbhjfbsjhdhbfsk sorry dude but being a good hunter doesnt make up for being a shit father 

gon is so precious ;_; 

WHAT WAS SATOTZ GONNA SAY TO GON???

why does it look like theyre googling things on MS paint 

ah yes, padokea, on the continent of Africa But Sideways 

idk if i talked abt it before but the world map is WILD lmao i love how its all the continents/landmasses scrambled around.....im super curious abt that weird island in the top center of the map, thats the only thing that immediately sticks out as not having a real life equivalent 

the music in this show is so charming :’) i love the main theme sm 

gon is sooo precious i literally cant get over it. and his hurry to rescue killua is so sweet....and i love how naturally charming/charismatic gon is....pretty much everyone he meets likes him, especially leorio and kurapika, who basically adopted him after knowing him for like a day, and continue to be completely taken by him

ok wtf is satotz & co talking abt......do they know something abt ging that they arent allowed to tell gon???? shouldnt gon have access to the same info now that hes a hunter? i need ANSWERS

i bet this whole thing abt the hunter exam not rlly being over is a metaphor abt the hunter exam NEVER truly ending bc youre always being tested, or st

ok the ED continues to be So Much like especially the last shot where the 4 main characters look like theyre posing for a JC Penny catalog while the singer goes FULL metal-screamo

ok ruth and i just rewatched the next two eps woohoo

i love that there are tourist busses that take people to the front gates so they can like pose for pics and stuff vhbhjafdsfkj and its like ‘ah yes here are where the local assassins live!’ thats so funny yet it makes so much sense

i love that leorio passed tf out during the bus ride. big big mood 

gon is so cute...hes like ok yes i understand that we’re not supposed to go in but i think they can make an exception for me bc im very polite. 

those 2 dudes r so ugly and so dead god bless

that bigass buster sword....sir please 

ruth and i rlly thot that the old guard guy was gonna turn out to be grandpa zoldyk or st lol

the fact that the dog managed to eat All their flesh but left some clothes....skill 

also the dog is named mike but it sounds like the guy is calling him miku hvbjdfssk

this cant be the first time some morons have been killed here likeeee 

i cant believe nobody has visited the zoldyk estate in 20 years damn they all rlly b havin no friends. depressing 

the whole gates thing is wild. also that part where gon gets the math wrong on the weight.....BIG mood kiddo 

ok the part where gons on the phone w/the butler is soooo good oh man. i love how gon just calmly dials the phone again after hes hung up on the first time and then YELLS....and leorio and kurapikas faces r so good 

also the butler guy unfortunately has a point, it isnt foolproof that gon is here Legit....but he IS let him see his tiny bf :( 

as ruth pointed out, the butler guy is reminiscent of kuro from one piece. same vibes 

maybe if leorio was jacked like he is in the manga/1999 anime he couldve opened the gate that first time around....Ls 

god i love this shows approach to Everything so far,....as ruth put it, half the time its like ‘oh wow they should do [x]/i wish theyd do [x] but ofc they wont cause its a shounen’ but then they DO do [x] and its like damn thats dope 

anyways i love how gon is increasingly approaching situations with his Plucky Shounen Protag Attitude in full swing, and he pretty much gets shot down every time. BUT his general determination to see killua bc killuas his FRIEND and hes gonna RESCUE HIM is still a good and pure motivating force 

like here, when hes climbing over the wall and hes like whatever i dont wanna have to deal w/being tested thats bullshit, i wanna see killua, my intentions are pure, im gonna try my luck with the dog....i was like ok yeah he’ll get over and like tame or defeat the dog and the guard will be suitably impressed bc nobodys ever done That before, and then gon will continue on to get killua 

but NOPE instead the guard calls him down and explains that gon Will Die if he tries that, and then the guard will die too for letting that happen. and gon is like oh shit my actions have consequences for people other than me, wow. 

and THEN the guard takes them in to meet the dog. and hot DAMN that is a scary creature. not even really a dog tbh. they did an excellent job making the dog Legit Scary and not just like, big and flashy looking....those eyes are so soulless, and the proportions are freaky 

and the guard says exactly what i was thinking - that gon would use his Country Boy Woodland Creature Skills to workaround the dog....but then the subversion - this creature is NOTHING like the woodland critters gon is probably used to dealing with. theres no way gon stood a chance here. the guard just saved him from a really unfortunate death 

i love all the Super Heavy Stuff in the servant house that seems so inconvenient vbhjdkfasjfld. also forgot to mention earlier but the guard guy being Absolutely Ripped was wild and kinda funny 

training montage! gon continues to be so cute. and i love so much how leorio and kurapika are like no, you rest, we’ll take care of this. good parents!!!!

and then!!!! they sync up and use the power of gay love to almost open the gate. but then gon uses the power of Improbable Shounen Protag Healing Speed to toss that arm sling off and help out

i feel like leorio was side-eyeing gon like w8 a sec u broke that arm like a few days ago that aint right.....

oh man i almost forgot abt that scene with the zoldyks torturing killua :( :( this poor kid he doesnt deserve that 

also mom zoldyck seems truly awful but i must say her aesthetic does fuck. the victorian-lookin outfit paired with the futuristic cyclops visor thing....excellent. also im betting this face bandages are from killua cutting her face 

this family is so fucked up hvbsjdhjfbakdfn

killua telling his mom that gon is definitely gonna make it there :’) hes got such unshakable faith in his bf thats so good.....

back w/the gang, and immediately they run into more trouble in the form of the young girl butler, whose name i dont know, but i love her....her design is SO good oh man. a non-caricature black person? who also isnt sexualized? in MY anime??????

 i love how gons approach to conflict is currently ‘let more powerful person beat me up for hours straight in hopes that they get tired or something idk bro’ like....i love him lol, is it in an effort to show how determined he is? he doesnt even try to dodge her blows or get around her....id be tryin to hop that fence lol 

oh shit the tiny zoldyk kid from earlier is spying on them....she was w/the mom so im sure thats not good

when he punches the rock part and it breaks....strong boiiii 

oh man that little flashback from when killua first came back and told her that he made a friend ;_; bruh 

i love butler girl :( she wants to let gon but knows it isnt allowed....and as soon as she starts to waver BAM here comes mom zoldyck JFC that was so sudden and jarring....im assuming butler girl isnt dead cause that would be lame and anticlimactic 

also IS THAT NEN??? NEN>>>??? NEN??? HM? NEN????????? 

im so annoying abt nen i need to make one of those ‘is this a pigeon?’ memes w/’is this nen?’ bc thats me anytime anything remotely weird happens lmao

i do think its rlly nen this time tho

anyways shit is wild, cant wait to meet the full zoldyck family 

PREDICTION CORNER: 

as i said above i doubt hisoka will show up now bc this arc is a lot shorter than i anticipated. also im doubting that illumis even gonna show up honestly 

i think we’re gonna have this OP for a while, as the part just at the end shows gon and hisoka fighting in what looks to be an arena, and ik the next arc is the heavens arena arc, which im assuming is the tournament arc....

also i have no idea what that weird building in the OP is but my guess is that its the building w/the heavens arena in it bc its tall and,,,,heaven 

i predict there wont be much fighting in this little arc bc how tf else is it so short. at this point i rlly think gon is just gonna grab killua and go lmao. im super curious abt how thats gonna go down, considering that killua is currently strung up just bc he wont apologize...so i cant imagine his family would just let him leave w/gon. i wonder if killua will fight them, or if gons determination will impress them and then theyll let killua go (doubt it)

thats basically it....we’ll see abt the next few eps holla

#lj watches hxh #hxh #woohoo continuation

[turtle-steverogers]

WTF is Cats About?

ralbert and cats the musical :)

warnings: none, cept cats the musical (if ur a cats stan, i swear im not making fun of it,,,,just,,,,,cats)

ship: ralbert

word count: 1577

editing: no lmao...CATS

-

Albert likes to think he’s gotten used to all of Race’s funny quirks and little habits.  He’d long since given up on getting him to stop biting his nails and the whole twirling his hair while he relaxes thing is pretty endearing.  But there are some things that still surprise him.  

Like his utterly amazing habit of withholding big life changes until they’re glaringly important and then announcing them as if he’s commenting on the weather.

Which is why Albert basically spits his tea all over his laptop one morning when Race announces he’s been cast in the fucking Broadway revival of Cats.

Fucking Cats.

Albert doesn’t even know what Cats is about.  Not that he’s ever really had the desire to know.  The whole show is a little too...furry for him.

It had been a mild Sunday morning up until then.  The sky was clear and blue and the sun rays hit just right on their bed, waking them up, but not disturbing them.  They’d lounged around for a few hours, switching between lazy morning cuddles and tiredly making out.  Life since moving to the City together had been exhilarating.  The freedom they’d once yearned for so heavily was finally at their fingertips, lending them the time to focus on their dreams and basking in the post college glow of their early adulthood.

Race worked at the local pizza joint when he wasn’t auditioning for whatever he could find casting calls for (which apparently included fucking Cats the fucking musical).  It was a good gig for him; it kept him busy and entertained.  Something Albert struggled to do single-handedly.

Albert on the other hand worked at a dingy mechanics shop a few blocks away, fixing up old cars on the side while working his way through the prestigious culinary grad program he’d somehow managed to get into.  All in all, they were doing well for themselves as 24 year olds living alone in New York City.

Somehow, they’d managed to drag themselves out of bed and into the kitchen, where Albert fixed them a modest breakfast of omelettes before docking at the counter to sort through some emails.  

Race was sitting next to him, absentmindedly petting Chips, their orange tabby, when he states, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert pauses mid-type, glancing up at his boyfriend, who’s still intently looking at Chips, running his hand down the length of his back, “You what!?”

Race takes a deep breath, then repeats, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert’s been rendered speechless by Race plenty of times in his 6+ years of knowing him.  But he’s never felt quite as...dumbfounded before.

“You got cast...in Cats?” He asks slowly, before shaking his head and backing up, “Wait, no, hang on, hang on...you auditioned for fucking Cats?”

Race ducks his head, a blush forming under his collar and around his ears, “Uh, yeah, I meant to mention it...but it never came up?”

Albert blinks again, “Who- what- what even is Cats?”

Race goes to answer, then closes his mouth hastily, “I don’t...actually really know…”

“How don’t you know?  You’re in the damn show!”

“I was only just cast!  I don’t know it that well yet!”

Albert makes a choked noise, “Okay, but you should at least know what the fuck the show is about if you went through a damn audition process- wait, when was this even happening? What- I’m so confused right now...my fucking boyfriend got cast in a Broadway musical- FUCKING CATS- and I didn’t even know he was auditioning.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” Race says, looking alarmed at Albert’s impending Cats- induced mental breakdown.  Chips gives an annoyed meow at the lack of attention being bestowed onto her and leaps off the counter, trotting away to find Queso, their golden doodle.

“I mean, you’re not entitled to tell me everything about your life, just...wow, I mean, this is big,” Albert scrubs a hand down his face, “I didn’t do anything to make you feel like you couldn’t share this with me, did I?”

Race’s face softens, “No, of course not, Albie,” he sighs, reaching across the table and linking their hands together, “I just got caught up in everything...sometimes things just feel so busy and overwhelming and I like to process it alone before letting other people in on it.”

Albert squeezes his hand, “That’s understandable,” he smiles, bending down to kiss his knuckles, “And congrats! I’m so proud of you! I mean, fucking Broadway...my boyfriend’s gonna be on Broadway.”

Race beams, “Thanks.”

“We have to celebrate,” Albert concludes, “I’m calling Spot and the others.  You better not have work tonight, ‘cause we’re going out for drinks.”

Race shakes his head, bemused, as Albert pulls out his phone to text their group chat.  

“Fucking Cats…” Albert murmurs as he sends the text, “Fuckin’....Cats.”

XXX

“Can you say that your bite is worse than your bark?  Are you cock of the walk when you’re walking alone?  Because jellicles are and jellicles do, jellicles do and jellicles would, jellicles would and…”

Albert freezes in the doorway to their apartment, slowly closing the door behind him as he strains his ears.  He follows the sound of the weirdly tempoed music to the kitchen, where Race is bopping around by the microwave, reheating last night’s dinner of chicken curry.

“Hey,” Albert calls, setting the groceries on the counter.

Race glances over, flashing Albert a smile and turning down the music a few notches.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, pulling his bowl out of the microwave and stirring it a bit with a fork to cool it down.

Albert crosses to him, pecking him on the lips quickly and grabbing a glass for water.

“Jellicles can and jellicles do, jellicles can and jellicles do…”

Albert wrinkles his nose, “the fuck even is a jellicle?”

Race shrugs, shoveling a forkful of curry into his mouth, “Dunno, some type of cat?  Google it.”

Albert hums, “So this is Cats then?  Interesting music.”

“I know, it’s kinda weird,” Race says, perching at the counter, “But it grows on you.  Rehearsal started today, so…”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Albert places his glass in the sink and leans against the counter, “How’d it go?”

“Pretty well, I made a few friends,” Race says, “Jojo’s in it.”

Albert smiles, “No kidding! That’s crazy.”

“Right?  I didn’t even know he was auditioning!”

“Seems to be the trend with this show.”

“I get it, I get it,” Race rolls his eyes, looking a little guilty.

“Jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle…”

“If they say ‘jellicle’ one more time I’m going to shoot myself,” Albert growls.

Race whips his head up, eyes slightly wide, “Oh, honey, you are not going to make it through this one…”

“Fantastic.”

XXX

“Hey, Race, have you seen my- WHAT THE FUCK!”

Race turns away from the bathroom mirror, fixing Albert with an innocent look.

“Have I seen your what?” He asks.

“No,” Albert says, pointing a finger, “First answer what the FUCK happened to your face.”

Race turns back to the mirror, dabbing some more orange cream foundation around his eyes.  Disturbingly, Albert notes that his makeup design looks very similar to Chips.

“Gotta do our own makeup for the show,” Race answers, padding a generous amount of setting powder around his face, “I’m practising.”

“Right…” Albert rakes his eyes over Race’s features.  So far, the makeup only spans on his face and down his neck a little, “What else does your costume entail exactly?”

Race grins wickedly and Albert swallows.  

“Oh, you’ll see.”

XXX

“Do you like my tail?”

Albert slowly closes his book, praying for strength as he looks up.  Race is standing by the doorway, rehearsal bag dropped at his feet.  His face is smudged- like he tried and failed to clean off all the layers of his meticulous cat makeup.  He’s dressed normally in adidas workout pants and a random t-shirt from a color run they did years back.  Protruding (Albert doesn’t wanna know how, but alas) from his backside is an orange tabby cat tail.

“Did you choose to be the same kind of cat as Chips?  Or was it some sort of creepy coincidence,” Albert deadpans, refusing to look at the tail longer than he has to and keeping his eyes fixed on Race’s face.

Race’s smile drops a fraction of an inch, “Wait, it’s weird that I chose to be her breed?”

Albert groans and picks back up his book.

XXX

“Congratulations!” 

Albert is met with a faceful of Race’s blond curls as the cast comes swarming out of the stagedoor.  He smells like makeup remover and sweat, but Albert doesn’t care as he kisses him, pride swelling in his chest.  

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the exhilarating feeling of seeing Race shine onstage.

“Thanks!” Race looks high on adrenaline and Albert never wants that light to leave his eyes, “What did you think?”

“You were so good!  Everyone was!  And the music was all better than I first thought it would be,” Albert said, playfully swaying them back and forth where they stood, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Race, “Just one question.”

Race cocks his head, “what’s up?”

“What the fuck is Cats about?”

Race tips his head back and laughs, “I still have no fucking clue.”

-

the word ‘cats’ doesn’t even sound real anymore and i think that’s fitting

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable 

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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#newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #ralbert #Cats on Broadway #FUCKIn #cats #... #sdkjalfkjs #OK #yell at me

[sirjustice128-blog]

Gods grace

Pendo la nyamwezi mungu ni pendo la ajabu, huweshi kulinganisha x2

With okwaju treats Aids then aids will be finished like done diseases so u cant bank on that as its short run, bringing people here to be many to contract the same to bring the medication as u say they will never know just as automation yet in the lands they are from bears the biggest wild plantation of those okwaju fruits like Mexico and Carli4nia USA, some saying they are people of Sudan or Indian cause as well bears those fruit just looking 4 best/good things like rich man and Lazarus parable, while these fruits grows in any tropical land but in small amounts but can be grown huge so cant bank on it so relents them.

Fish place on snow flakes as ice makes iron sheets, furniture, coffins, glass, plates, nails buildings, any machine, wood or galvanized container houses, trains and thats the hidden gimmicks with temperate lands as they are found in large amounts and aint curse as cut leaves or grass and thats why they had gone their, make even cereals like corn and wheat flakes. Women with barnabas to cement reality, barafu, fuo as stupid while in tropics you can buy much fridges and make the same as ice cubes.

The fish, flying small insects, arachnids, birds as hawks or the nozzle of sprayers placed under ice or dough while u spit or hurled cold water makes drones or nails and the same nail made that way if u place few in ice or dough and many hardware small apparatus like nail, like in the link below. Vineyard and worker parable another version to bring out reality

https://www.google.com/search?q=nozzle+of+sprayers+bottles+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwje8qSf-_joAhUHQhQKHcmXBtkQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=nozzle+of+sprayers+bottles+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CVN1jFTWDmUWgBcAB4AIABygGIAdINkgEFMC43LjKYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=Q5yeXp7FL4eEUcmvmsgN&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop

Unless incapacitated then we can chip in and help ya kid in later years, your country is rich and got such disability benefits not now as ya wife can hustle 4 ya as the economy still got loopholes to fix ya self. Cant just give birth and disturb others who have not done the same but in a position to with such kids wanting every part of ya food as if u played part in the Zygotic formation, calculate dude, and if reason be he will be an Mp be 4 your mother and if u will make a car with no headlines as gotten from other kids as excuse, make it as well 4 ya kins me iwill not buy it, i would have moved to another country as take another route altogether. Take care of ya own shit bro, dont transfer it to others as excuse now u dont want kids, lets his father not yet incapacitated take care of him not me period or it will tantamount to war, either u kill me or i kill ya

Waswahili are Jamaicans, they were migrated from Kenya coast by the Europeans like portuguess, they forgot the swahili dialect as European de-tribalised them to adopt English, stay put and get the truth from white men stop this and that u know not fellows. Some even were taken to Nigeria where they intermarried but initially they live in southern Africa countries such as Mozambique or Sa and Botswana

If u claim this and that after a person utterance then u r close to being mad/insane and may leave ya company and if u dine still with rude people as hang/role with them people hates ya off-springs, as they assume u teach them the same as birds of same feathers stick/fly together. Desist women, let them die their own death, if u tolerate them, what next to eat in ya house and sleep secretly with ya kids or wife to bring the same bad kids we want not. Oil they waited is overtaken by alternator generators even match box/stick or cooking gas they had known how to make, tell them that they see reality so they get busy as look 4 loopholes in the economy to fix themselves or they will be killed cause it cant give ya food year in year out. Dude what ya exist plan or waiting 4 that i will also benefits from so i tolerate u or my kids benefit from, Nothing but bringing ya smelling mouth to my face or wanting me to suck ya dick. Stop fellows and resort to handwork period.

Kitchen and toilet appliances as well as furniture are made with fish placed in snow flakes or dough while u bath tickling, kinda, ya ass hole as washing it with sponge and boom its formed or u hurl cold cuddled milk unto the above and boom the kind of appliances u want formed or u place photos of the above unto the ice or snow flakes as another method still they are formed as mfalme wa yawhodi comes in to cement Christ sayings or what he meant and the reason 4 his killing

The above signal end to tyranny as cheap affordable life crops in if such are put in payment plan its much more cheap. Like in the link below but should be more cheap cause aint imported if sold in Kenya, now leave china made ones bro

https://www.jumia.co.ke/televisions/eefa/

Like a lady A sat on her bed legs apart helding kebis head like being on a staring hands moving from the back part of the staring wheel like spanking the back of his head, kebi licking that things, do u know what she utters in deep enjoyment or pleasure “ don’t bite it babe and if u r biting it without my consent continue biting it softly as i know it“

Utensils and the modern jikos, stoves and motors or pumps and more just try with any gadget not made in other ways provided above or below are made after placing the offering on the dough like broken parts pieces, where women talk on each other face as same as men, kinda, wanting like to kiss and boom they are formed even with electric kettles, cookers, mags, coffee making machines, some fridges, gas cylinders, nail cutters, bottle openers etc Gold and jewels as well are made this way by placing hard mafi or inside of guava, corpse of people who suffered they exhume in a container, add much water and do the above or spit saliva and boom any product u want is formed as caskets, bling, rings, study as earrings etc

The grave slabs explained below can be made of metallic iron rods to avoid break outs and to be strongly glued to the earth it can have wings like long metallic projections from sides to hold firm to the ground to give hard time in trying to uproot it.

They liaise with power company to create black out conducive 4 sweet escape and people who view things on their eye to see into ya compound guard position to fly the drone like to ya balcony to get into ya house them ambush ya and thats why now their should be no power black out which will not facilitate the above situation which even they kill you in. They use the open drone from another compound to get into ya compound or house in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WoFQ1NTwy04

Bank give me all that money to give to their big wing so they feel nice and leave me all alone, bad conduct they wanna put ya in. Anyway life has been made easy with the latest innovations in Africa, so i don’t give a hoot of living big/large. Up to ya if u wanna do the same, hustle by ya self don’t incorporate me into it, wanting good from me but u cant help me, instead give me dirty names.

Dont dude, discussing 1 past, spoils ya face and its known that way, kinda, u look malnourished yet not. If they are good at this time as don’t disturb ya again leave it to pass and thats maturity and can happen to any1 or any1 kid in times futurity.

Along the road behind Dala hera where water collects after a short downfall is where Herod was buried and john body while at where palmers hotel family lived and thats the reason why so i know was where Goliath and King David was buried, in fact when u r there, kinda, if u look down, the earth crust seems to divide into 2.

Aluminum foil, wires or plates as sufuria when placed in dough makes double door fridges, automated vendor machines or milk processing equipment and storage.

At Night when sleeping u see the spot of green-light as in ya dreams to tell ya that its green-man who told these white-men per country how gadgets are made and some writings we love are by them as well as song given to them to do it in their own way.

The door of submarine described below should not be on a protruding end/side as a house veranda or balcony but like a small partition done inside with its own door so if 1 from outside don’t see an extension but just as a cylinder in the link below which can be made into a submarine

http://around-us-facts.blogspot.com/2013/04/why-tanker-trucks-are-made-cylindrical.html

Emery asking delanu “Ule dem mwenye kepi anamtaka, tayari ameshampatia kitu amemeza au la asha“ Babo Mtu wangu, nikujikakamua tu kisabuni while kebi says as he gets into the conversation, in Broken luo “An adong’o ne blina, kedo kal pidho thuol apidho manda mond kiko-okomplain kaka okomplain sani ne home girls ne eti she is contented but not satisfied“

Adwalo mochanda gi magdalin, to gitamle miya golo na gimolo mondo aswo gi koyo ni, Kebi molocha was heard complaining.

How machines or gadgets as equipment should be priced, measure 30% weight of the above which is the minimum high quality placed dough used b4 cold sewer water is hurled synonymous with some fridges, pick ups or the lighting up garbage Lory where cut other color glass pieces is place on the dough above and boom that machine formed. The price should be 30% weight of that machine translate it to wheat flour price of that 30% used to make that very machine and multiply by 100 as 100 x while the multiplied times is the profit, the hard task derived from making such as the lost sheep parable cements the truth. If dough worth 1 buck was used let the gadget be 100 bucks period cause they are just made. Pick ups are also made with maize cobs as eggs, i mean placed in different styles, Christ with division to bring out the reality of what he meant or signaled. Beyond 100 times can take ya too hell as u see hell door being lowered, no kidding jo, its not guess work but pure truth bro.

With every gadget u can use egg as the being placed on the dough, with double door fridges u place 2 standing on the tip, king of the jew to bring out another version reality, cookers u place it like sleeping on the other side, stereos u cut the boiled egg into pieces as well as Tv, with drones u place them in circles with big airplane u place it in a rectangular form with choppers in square form, u can try with any shape placing the egg on dough and after partaking mwarubaine/neem leaves with meditation u visualize the gadget that can be made using such pattern.

If u were to be paid 5% of the total cost of every gadget made using Ae technology or the no fuel generator theorem, then in many nations which has bought from like china Alibaba or Italy Linz generator and more have sold much pieces but why haven’t u been paid or taken them to court esp those manufacturing countries described in the following tumblr of this a/c. Stop dude, look 4 other ways to hustle esp coast province blooded fellows such as many luyas, dont expect water out of Euphobia tree but white Gum as dont look 4 the dead among the living with the Christ tomb, free things locators yet with ya money they want ya to join their things yet when u got none, u dont see them around or go in circles giving ya silly defaming names, as join and dont do this, eat corpse. Corpse can save ya ass, as dont make ya cleaver 4 such explained, it was just the German gimmick to delude ya to destroy ya mind further.

They are coming up with simbapay to allow u get many a/cs like with African phone lines so as to withdraw much from 2goinvoice since they got the software. They have been blocked in dubious ways and cant move on so resort to daytime lies as seen dubious ways. Let it be 1 or 2 line per person and i know if that is done many company wanna come in so they got other many options to open from to get many lines to do the same just as with Pay Tv decoders per countries. Britain u r digging ya own grave and sitting on a tickling time bomb. Click the link below 4 more

https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&q=simbapay+uk&sourceid=opera&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8

They get into submarines with 2 doors to get into the inside like the 1st door if u open u get with water but still inside there their is a water pump that the crew sitch it one to let out the very water that got in with you out, which if has gotten out the space remain free with you just inside b4 u open the 2nd door that gets into the inside of the real drone minus the water that got with ya as explained above. Submarines are just airtight heavy wall drones that instead of cold air being blown from below the gas cylinder to take it up, the reverse is done on the top of the siren gas cylinder to take it down the water b4 another cold air blown from below of the same magnitude as the 1 blown from above to keep it at the same level in water, the same technology as well applies to airplane in air as another cold air blow from behind the siren gas cylinder to keep it moving ahead. To negotiate a corner or a U-turn cold air blown from the tip or the end most of the cylinder from beside and to get back cold air blown from the rear part of the cylinder and thats as well the rocket, drone, submarine or chopper science. Weed parable, Beatitude or little kids, with Christ and lost coin parable to bring reality of the above. Click the link below to get a glimpse of submarine and inside ya air travel u can opt 4 one tied on a parachute once the fall develops an hitch to fall u get out while inside the drone with the parachute described above b4 u open it to make u land on the sea then u start ya journey.

https://www.google.com/search?q=images+of++submarine+vessels&client=opera&hs=8MP&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=YWCjS6kWU6U5mM%253A%252Cmw0B22SbvUlCBM%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kR6whfhvNgBzhWMeVcGFkup6sNI-Q&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76fCrqPHoAhW9A2MBHeluAWIQ9QEwAnoECAoQHg#imgrc=YWCjS6kWU6U5mM:

Yet people follow engage in fights in the aftermath yet these folks are friend and what they champion is just games they discuss at night like in the link below where their will be no stealing of election if ballot boxes are locked with finger print padlocks unless the returning officer is near then the same done or if Has not taken Ginger with Skali ngulu or mbuta to avert the changing of body parts by Mr Hindu as the finger can be given to another to do the same as allow rigging and ballot boxes weighed immediately after election then a rough calculation done based on the weight to find the number of total votes cast b4 counting like a sample of 1000 ballot paper weighs this so what about the weight of ballot papers cast in this ballot box minus the weight. they are looking 4 other dubious loopholes to more confuse the folks

https://www.google.com/search?q=raila+with+uhuru+images+on+standard+newpaper+front+page+today&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjIh9D26e7oAhUxzIUKHR-7CkIQ420oCnoECAoQGA&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.jumia.co.ke/measuring-tools-scales/

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=finger+print+padlocks

Robinson those Gemini the twins on ya chest are big who are touching them Robinson, don’t hide me, u r my homie or may it not be Lil wayne, Knowles those hooves from ya besides are to big and wide, who is caressing them, Mrs Knowles, don’t be afraid i wont tell girl or may it not be u have harbor an African in ya house whose skin is dry and rough like in the song below, Excuse me, excuse me Mrs Robinson is Obama hitting that thing right or just play with it, i long to do the same but no jest with it Mum- am delanu mkubwa

Minaj dont or never feel a shamed i wont tell as well, then tell, i know like u r saying, kinda, “things can be resolved, nothing beyond us, their is always a solution to a predicament” those booty are to flabby and too big than as we saw them in yester years, tell me girl who is touching them, may it not be Lobinson has tought u the same as u harbor an Africa in ya crib doing that work. Tell me women, where are u taking them booty if not to me am in owe and perturbed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=My2LtlHMugo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-yn1luPxAY

Buy even small of the linz No fuel generator in the link bellow which is more cheap the the protruding end make a gear on it like with mountain bike chain system to rotate the other gear slow to rotate the wind turbine so u can use it even to power the whole school or 5 star hotel as it got much watts rather than placing the turbine on poles creating bad name on ya side as u don’t build the country as pay electric bill something which is cheap. Dont tint ya name. U connect the wind turbine of many watts as u select to buy with the same powerful inverter, like 10,000 watts shown in the link below

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=alternator+generators

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=wind+turbine

https://www.google.com/search?q=10,+000+watts+china+inverter+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiFyqay7-7oAhUsyYUKHaz1B0kQsAR6BAgKEAE

https://www.google.com/search?q=linz+alternator+generator+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwi2hZy17-7oAhVP4oUKHdwWD94Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=linz+alternator+generator+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoCCAA6BAgAEEM6BAgAEB46BggAEAgQHjoGCAAQBRAeOgQIABAYUJGpBFis_gRgnIMFaABwAHgCgAGrCIgB9VCSAQ4yLTE2LjUuMi4yLjIuMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=r1GZXvbxCc_ElwTcrbzwDQ&client=ms-google-coop

With no fuel Generator above like the Linz u can use a solar panel mounted on a solar charger controller to turn the motor during the day and at night use its battery to avoid staying out of power when battery reduces in voltage not to turn the turbine to produce power. U CAN USE A Technician

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=solar+panels

https://www.jumia.co.ke/catalog/?q=solar+charger+controllers

Bones of animals in dough or ice cubes placed in different patterns or styles make as well office or home appliances, furniture or small hand driven or operated machines like grinders or drills. Barafu as women with Lazarus comes handy to cement de truth. With Egg u use peeled off egg like with the explanation below

Double door fridge made with 2 boiled egg place standing next to each other on the specified dough. Africans as Kenyans where have u reached as well as Negros, Minafika wapi with frustrating kebi and u have been warned slogan after being told the money making online gimmicks. Lake Victoria can be reduced via from below the earth crust dig hole to make some water flow out until its Kenya part reduced completely to be out cause the Negros are eye this part as it of leisure they place yacht and speed boat on it after all has been made like the innovation of E-engines which uses no power, so they feel good as also the Hindu left so they can get to another country if they commit crime as opposed to their country deep lakes with high security features of committing crimes.

They want cities in the E-African regions to have many people, as many banks and many cheque cashing centers as hotels and bureau de changes so they being built close to the lake to enable sweet escape as now they have known how to make submarines like with Tz choppers, they rob and not long b4 the city police alerted they jump into the lake or seas like with Malindi, Dar es salam, kilifi, mogadishu and mombasa to the submarines and get out at lonely places just the same with how they were fishing b4 Lake Victoria get in points were fenced shipping the fish to Europe and America markets via the underground fissures described in below following tumblr a/c

List of cities around E-African coastline and around lake Victoria basin

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=NXmZXvGNBNuW8gKd77iAAg&q=+cities+around+lake+victoria+basin&oq=+cities+around+lake+victoria+basin&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR0oJCBcSBTEyLTk3SggIGBIEMTItM1DgnQFY4J0BYK-jAWgAcAJ4AIABxgGIAcYBkgEDMC4xmAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwix_OeNle_oAhVbi1wKHZ03DiAQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=jXqZXsmmAdb9gAbpyq6oAg&q=coastal+cities+in+east+africa&oq=coastal+cities+in+east+africa&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzICCAAyBggAEBYQHjIGCAAQFhAeMggIABAWEAoQHjIGCAAQFhAeMgUIABDNAjIFCAAQzQI6BAgAEEdKDggXEgoxMS0yNzdnMjE2SgsIGBIHMTEtNGcxNVC5iQFY4dQBYPXWAWgAcAJ4AIABqwKIAcQnkgEEMi0yMpgBAKABAaoBB2d3cy13aXo&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwiJoemxlu_oAhXWPsAKHWmlCyUQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

Now their is 1 loophole left, they can steal water at night or in lonely compound and place them in trucks like in the link below and organize per houses as they want to stay afloat to buy the flat septic tanks to store the above water then u minimize ya house water intake by half as half they provide, to use the money gotten from many households of such deals to put like E-buses, vans, taxi on the road to reap huge profits to buy others to still put a swag that they are blessed. Its done in a half way mentioned above to remove all doubt that were are u getting ya money but to give another sense u have lowered ya water use. The kisii are eying on this to capitalize it to stay afloat like explained above. The link below shows how many tanks u can use as calculated by your monthly bill which show how many cubic/m2 u r using, if more they can even place many under ya house ceiling to meet the same

https://www.google.com/search?q=images+of+rectangular+gallon+water+storage+tank&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjA57rNl-_oAhXLARoKHfsaCE8Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=images+of+rectangular+gallon+water+storage+tank&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CbhAJYzY0CYPmXAmgAcAB4AIAB7gGIAY0LkgEFMC40LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=03uZXoCyGcuDaPu1oPgE&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d

Like in the links below, the airplane gas nozzle sometimes fail even to ooze out gas after stop or in along journey leads to airplane fall even for household, so this below technology can be of big help big time where the nozzle made like the home water nozzle while a tip is place with many hole like the normal cooking gas nozzle but hard 1 4 planes to avoid the described above as airplane fall

https://www.pinterest.at/pin/623185667171084266/?d=t&mt=signup

https://www.google.com/search?q=digital+water+pegler+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwio-eq8me_oAhW0gM4BHVdsClsQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=digital+water+pegler+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CepwJYuLECYLW4AmgAcAB4AIAB5AGIAYALkgEFMC40LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=yX2ZXujwGbSBur4P19ip2AU&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d#imgrc=Wmg9ptIs3FBosM

Water pegler or gas nozzle can be digital as blue-tooth enabled to be controlled from ya phone or the city water center to monitor an authorized utilization of same resource as with of airplane or as blue-tooth controlled padlocks in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=blue+tooth+enabled+jumia+kenya+padlocks&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjd4KHVmu_oAhXR4YUKHTRlDOcQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=blue+tooth+enabled+jumia+kenya+padlocks&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoCCAA6BAgAEEM6BQgAEIMBOgYIABAFEB46BggAEAoQGFC9tQtYmo0MYMGTDGgAcAB4AIABpAKIAdA-kgEHMC4xOC4yMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=CX-ZXp24BdHDlwS0yrG4Dg&bih=910&biw=1280&client=firefox-b-d

When all goes well, they thought it will be all darkness to me, what i will do, is to take “wasichana wangu” the head to another nation the come back if the dust of shame has settled like Christ going to Egypt and coming after herod death- the death of rod/penis, root of David Rodeo

Buy Brazil weg alternator generator as show in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=weg+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjruM3Vpu_oAhVUVsAKHR5aARwQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Buy SA elegen generators in the link beside  

https://www.google.com/search?q=elegen+alternator+generator+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjhgbeXpu_oAhWT_IUKHRvUBZgQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=elegen+alternator+generator+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1DMfViXmAFg5Z0BaABwAHgAgAHPAogBkRWSAQYyLTEwLjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=HIuZXuGDJ5P5lwSbqJfACQ&bih=654&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop

South Korea doosan generator link beside  

https://www.google.com/search?q=doosan+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwixuryjre_oAhULQkEAHZoeCBsQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Italy mecc alte alternator generator in the link beside

https://www.google.com/search?q=mecc+alte+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiR5-fxre_oAhXUTMAKHTjeCR8QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Buy polystar Home appliances like double door fridges from Nigeria in the Link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=opera&ei=saCaXozgD6mejLsP06ygwAE&q=polystar+fridge+made+in+which+country&oq=polystar+fridge+made+in+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQRzoGCAAQBxAeOggIABAHEAUQHjoFCAAQzQJQ4-MKWJKMC2DbkgtoAHABeACAAY4CiAHyGZIBBTAuOC44mAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjM_OLzrvHoAhUpD2MBHVMWCBgQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=polystar+nigeria+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=opera&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwju2d3vr_HoAhXJ5eAKHSdLDwQQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=984&bih=658

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Faltmall.ng%2Fapp%2Fuploads%2Fabitoks-electronics-3496%2Fproducts%2FPOLYSTAR_Home_Theatre5.1_Channel_Music_System_PV-EL616-product-2019-08-27.png&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Faltmall.ng%2Fabitoks-electronics-3496%2Fp%2Fpolystar-24533&tbnid=-k2FFcaoG7OjQM&vet=10CAYQMyhmahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=m5OW8ZnNxw5SoM&w=614&h=636&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CAYQMyhmahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fi0.wp.com%2Fbizwatchnigeria.ng%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2018%2F04%2FHome-Appliances.jpg%3Fresize%3D331%252C219%26ssl%3D1&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fbizwatchnigeria.ng%2Ftag%2Fpolystar%2F&tbnid=v14Ddg19ly8neM&vet=10CBcQMyhtahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=TaqkjrV5lBbJSM&w=331&h=219&itg=1&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CBcQMyhtahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

https://www.3ptechies.com/polystar-electronic-products-price-list.html

Now we got it in Africa, Obina, Obina, Obina, dont buy sony, Lg or Panasonic stereos from oversees in ya supermarkets buy it from Nija as Nigeria, an young to-kendo anmawacho mano an kevin in the house now in the link below

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmmexcel.com%2Fmedia%2Fcatalog%2Fproduct%2Fcache%2F1%2Fimage%2F9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95%2Fp%2Fv%2Fpv12.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmmexcel.com%2Fpolystar-mini-hifi-system-set-pv-12.html&tbnid=VkfcqklG_Ns-cM&vet=10CDwQMyh9ahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg..i&docid=cUEbjFnmStx49M&w=600&h=600&q=polystar%20nigeria%20home%20appliances%20images&client=opera&ved=0CDwQMyh9ahcKEwjA0Z2KsPHoAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQAg

Made in Tanzania electric car in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=tanzania+made+car+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjfidKMsvHoAhVB1-AKHR14CIEQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=tanzania+made+car+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CS0gtYi_QLYMX2C2gAcAB4AIAB-QGIAYYPkgEFMC43LjOYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=CqSaXt_cK8Gugwed8KGICA&bih=658&biw=984&client=opera&hs=VGk#imgrc=Ld6IEGGhtjFzXM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbR_7IkF0DI

Few fish or cattle meet, if u partake not artificial daily like in the link below u risk getting to hell and most people came to ya brick, stone or block house to see if they are artificial or from quarry destroying the earth as u help in that and it will help in ya judgement in life after death. They r taking notes whether is u r mad or denied a right man love to love ya and give the same to criminals

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-2a3al8pm0

You of little faith, how kebi likes made it to either Europe or US using such avenues, standing to defecate and taking along with u military food that makes u not want to visit the toilet frequently or piss not

https://www.google.com/search?q=kantanka+motorbike+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwj7xNT8tfHoAhUN_hQKHY3uB_kQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=kantanka+motorbike+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1CdjQRY9ZwEYLOsBGgAcAB4AIAByAGIAZsNkgEFMC44LjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=GqiaXvvPOY38U43dn8gP&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=GtqnF4_XIOsT8M

Polystar same sorted after Sony or Lg stereo in Africa same quality in the link below and vending machine as well. Exchange rate 2 Nira equals1 khs and so forth so on same sorted after like the Panasonic also in the link below

https://likeparadise.com.ng/polystar-mini-hifi-system-dvd-2.0-pv-hf208

https://www.dmbase.com/index.php?dispatch=products.view&product_id=1656

https://newatlas.com/panasonic-extra-large-audio-system/28149/

Buy GNA Home appliances made in Ghana as shown in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=Gna+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwihg8X37fHoAhVIecAKHZTECYsQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy as well Papua new Guinea Home appliances in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=png+appliances+from+which+country&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjF9pj17vHoAhVUQ0EAHaDACPAQsAR6BAgIEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy USA amana products in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=ghana+made+home+appliances&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjm2tzR6_HoAhXw1-AKHZU8CzQQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=ghana+made+home+appliances&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1DcoBpYo9MaYKveGmgAcAB4AIABmgKIAdcOkgEFMC40LjWYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=YOCaXuaqGfCvgweV-aygAw&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=2TZ0mNSn1pKumM

https://www.google.com/search?q=amana+appliances++images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi355OC8PHoAhXOh1wKHRXOBgsQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Is it true that loving many women get u off the things of this life as i google like u dont want to drive a car solo as u want 1 to do it for u or makes ya to like walking not even commuting. Or just people wanting to be heard!!!!

Buy thermocool, okayama or bobo or optima Nigeria made generators in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=5OmbXp3JF7rJgwetzIWYBw&q=thermocool+generator+from+which+country&oq=thermocool+generator+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1DhrgJYqsoCYIXXAmgAcAJ4AIABlAKIAagQkgEFMC40LjaYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwidy6Tt6PPoAhW65OAKHS1mAXMQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=thermocool+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiPrOiT6fPoAhUMA2MBHX1hA0UQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

https://www.emsgadgets.com/okayama-electric-generator/

https://www.google.com/search?q=okayama+electric+generators+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj9s8GC6_PoAhWGMBQKHVznD7oQsAR6BAgFEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Artificially made building stones technology in the houses in the link below here in Kenya

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fproxy%2FumSkHf7W2-jnPnKTWHC-svmJqwwEDVlFTlFgsnTK546JknekWxCJ41Fzn9wyB9f_LjsGS8tZdKHYYNHy8GiuhBHqGEZdRhGexor1IA%3Ds0-d&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fhouseplan211.blogspot.com%2F2017%2F12%2Fmodern-house-plans-in-kenya.html&tbnid=R2FC5djHtFdoFM&vet=12ahUKEwiu-9fs7PPoAhUs3OAKHf9JA2EQMygUegQIARAn..i&docid=4_5yeeTH13SjNM&w=1160&h=600&q=tuko%20modern%20houses%20in%20kenya&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiu-9fs7PPoAhUs3OAKHf9JA2EQMygUegQIARAn

Buy Australia OX products like Fans or e-bikes in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=ox+electric+products+from+which+country&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi9sMKa7_PoAhWQHxQKHfrpDuYQsAR6BAgIEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

Buy Nigeria made Century home appliances in the link below or Amaecom

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=AfKbXp-DIvXRgwePqKHoBg&q=centuary+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=centuary+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CCuwFY3NwBYN7iAWgAcAJ4AIAB9AGIAYUZkgEGMC4yLjEzmAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjfh-HL8PPoAhX16OAKHQ9UCG0Q4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=century+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjxp6bi8PPoAhUj5eAKHclZDZ4QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=XPObXt2gGq-EjLsP8_yY-A8&q=amaecom+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=amaecom+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1Ct_QFY0o4CYPiRAmgAcAJ4AIABzgGIAd8KkgEFMC42LjGYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjdvpTx8fPoAhUvAmMBHXM-Bv8Q4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=amaecom+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjPwNSJ8vPoAhXt6eAKHT4EDXAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

The pay in small amount method to buy gadgets should be incorporated in KENYA likewise to buy affordable gadgets to bridge the gap between the rich and the poor in-terms of ownership is concerned.

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&ei=gPObXpuoNJDhUKW1nYAN&q=likeparadise+home+appliances+from+which+country&oq=likeparadise+home+appliances+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CgS1ilX2DXZWgAcAJ4AIABsQKIAeETkgEHMC4zLjguMZgBAKABAaoBB2d3cy13aXo&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwib6MOC8vPoAhWQMBQKHaVaB9AQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

The Submarine vessel below needs stored oxygen inside 4 the crew inside breathing but u aint free in breathing as u find difficulties in it, so comes up periodically in lonely places to facilitate the above as open a lid to allow much fresh air inside without the enemy noticing as they can fire or bomb it as capture it lest its armored of glass or metal. So the sand lifting truck technology like the pulled radio areal can be employed so it dont draw close to upper water creating security concerns but does it from like 20-30 meters below water as the extending system to get air from above the waters to the vessel is automated like in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=images+of+dump+trucks+releasing+sand

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXRYxAMg_sI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShJ2oYpuV0E

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/301670875036719062/

The shinny metal like radio are can harbor camera and a gun to monitor and shoot intruders respectively at the same time.

If they don’t listen up nothing we can do, they have played with us but just engage them in warfare as in the song below, no time 4 silly romantic illusions like instead of pro-acting and resolving the whole situation they resort to songs as if when they were above u, they never wanted to just sleep with u but now with ya u want to do the same, not having it in mind we have not yet seduced them, but they take it that way as they want that. Be prostitutes once and 4 all, stop games and dilly dallying. Now we got fresh mouth herb nyamawho which deterred many a white women and ya kid cant suffer as like has been subsidized with latest African innovation and buying methods of machines that makes life comfortable

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPe09eE6Xio

Buy as well Nigeria made scanfrost home or kitchen appliances as described in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjskKjooPToAhWcD2MBHbZ-AAEQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=http%3A%2F%2Fmyscanfrost.com%2Fproduct%2Frefrigerator-sfs-bs2550m-side-by-side-refrigerator%2F&psig=AOvVaw25iZy3IX9x-ctJxsdJ7Ugr&ust=1587377855344000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAkQjhxqFwoTCNj4l_Sj9OgCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAZ

https://dinku.com.ng/p/polystar-mini-hifi-speaker-system-pv-xh2005_6032

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=ryOcXpGIAaSKjLsPtb2OwAo&q=scanfrost+electronics+from+which+country&oq=scanfrost+electronics+from+which+country&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzoECAAQR1CmFFjyJWCKOWgAcAJ4AIABuQWIAcUvkgEDNS05mAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjRm_X7n_ToAhUkBWMBHbWeA6gQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+sound+system&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76p-5ofToAhWh3eAKHY_vBdAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

Buy Kenyan made kevitron home appliances in the links below

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&ei=dCOcXpesJLqYjLsPvuq38AU&q=vitron+electronics+from+which+country

https://www.google.com/search?q=vitron+electronics+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi-iovoofToAhXZ6eAKHbhCCwcQsAR6BAgKEAE

Buy dishwashers online to eliminate ya from squatting or standing washing ya many dishes if u got much friends, once and 4 good in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=scanfrost+sound+system&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi76p-5ofToAhWh3eAKHY_vBdAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910#imgrc=xV2yrDohfr4ybM

No time 4 stupid romantic illusions  stupid and sick, death awaits ya, sitting in a time bomb just the way we have learnt ya dialect, no time 4 pity period. we will kill you if u don’t take heed, together with your sick kikuyu. am stopping ya business ways as described in my following tumblr a/c sirjustice50, your wicked ways, am trumping in the long-run, thought u knew much, even am sweeping china presence in the world. where r u with gimmicks which are old. Got to think twice. now sending folks to monitor my eating habit at my doorstep, u will not maneuver me unless u kill me. I want to revenge

Made in Nigeria drone, tractors, choppers, Trains and boats in the link below where yacht is plastic containers placed under floating slippers or dough then paraffin, pain or kerosene hurled instead of water or sewer water but cold as well, try any other chemical like thinker 4 products which dont come out as u use cold water or u can even try with plant juices like sugar cane, fruit or yorgurt

https://www.nairaland.com/5528000/nigerian-made-boats-lagos-government

https://olufamous.blogspot.com/2019/11/made-in-nigeria-trains-to-be-launched.html

https://www.owojelasblog.com/2016/07/nigeria-converts-aircrafts-to-drones.html

https://borgenproject.org/yudala-first-drone-deliver-nigeria/

http://www.aitonline.tv/post-nigeria__president_jonathan_unveils_first_indigenous_uav__drone_

Nigeria Defense industries 1st made drone

https://face2faceafrica.com/article/at-age-17-he-built-nigerias-first-locally-made-drone-and-on-a-mission-to-build-an-aircraft  

https://www.360nobs.com/2018/02/buhari-launches-nigerian-made-drone-kaduna/

https://www.google.com/search?q=nigeria+made+yacht+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiJuP3brvToAhVllFwKHV8eAxAQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910#imgrc=pEOYkPqYV6eQ7M

https://hackingafrica.com/development/6261/

https://www.legit.ng/879073-engineer-builds-100-nigerian-tractor-hopes-inspire-others-photos.html

Kebi rather stevo saidia maskini, help pita yaani kal pass by nyagu imemshinda kukula vyema na yeye si mchoyo, msaidiye wajamani na kebi pia hasaidiye chali wa brina, kuwa na respect tafadhali, help him chew/tafuna the maize to big and hard 4 him, he will be seen glutton as adrian delanu is helping sam kokudo down there.

Even kid toys can be made big into real machines if u do the above in the dark of hurling cold fluids or spit on them many people

Buy Nigeria nexus home appliances in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&q=nexus+home+appliances+from+which+country

https://www.google.com/search?q=nexus+home+appliances+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=ms-google-coop&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj7oY7GzfboAhWK4IUKHRFpCNQQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=632

https://seeronlinemall.com/product/nexus-upright-showcase-fridge-nx-551/

Buy Morgan Malaysia home made home appliances in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-google-coop&q=morgan+home+appliances+from+which+country

Buy vidhata alternator Generators from India at Affordable prices or AEPC oR CHINA mad hac106

https://www.google.com/search?q=alternator+generators+made+in+nigeria+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwj3hZzM0_boAhUM8uAKHeZtBmIQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=alternator+generators+made+in+nigeria+images&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1ClrgdYkI0IYJCRCGgAcAB4AIAB6QKIAYAmkgEIMC4yMy4xLjGYAQCgAQGqAQtnd3Mtd2l6LWltZw&sclient=img&ei=QWadXrfhBozkgwfm25mQBg&bih=632&biw=1024&client=ms-google-coop#imgrc=CS4q30ES2UW6pM

https://www.amazon.in/AEPC-BHARAT-ALTERNATOR-PHASE-AB-A5/dp/B07CQQCR4J

http://www.globalmarket.com/product-info/hac106-single-phase-brushless-alternator-1661860.html

Many duck placed on dough the cold liquid like yogurt hurled makes jets and choppers while many like mad fish or tilapia under the same procedure above makes even electric trains and drones even the toy counterparts.

assembled houses  and e-bikes

https://www.alibaba.com/premium/Prefab+Houses.html?XPJAX=0&product_id=60715027393&tagId=60721243711&pcate=3113&cid=3113&src=cpm_fb&ver=76w_20190529&account=DPA&campaign_id=6114792212116&campaign=mc_pc_pclp&ad_set_id=6114792213716&ad_set=pc_mc_completenewpclp&source=fb&placement=Facebook_Desktop_Feed&ad=mc_pc_newpclp_frame&fbclid=IwAR0w2PrENszLRlq1ITebB2SM4GItpPtBRaXk5eSlsyUDhn5_XjONblxikVM  

https://www.alibaba.com/premium/Electric+Bicycle+Motor.html?XPJAX=0&product_id=60510425976&tagId=60442238370&pcate=100001709&cid=100003419&src=cpm_fb&ver=76w_20190529&account=DPA&campaign_id=6114792212116&campaign=mc_pc_pclp&ad_set_id=6114792213716&ad_set=pc_mc_completenewpclp&source=fb&placement=Facebook_Desktop_Feed&ad=mc_pc_newpclp_frame&fbclid=IwAR3i2YWdkaATJirueLmTT9uNdaBCw6hNvVq1MRm5mx__JUxaT3d8GEloAoc

buy china alte generators  

http://www.globalmarket.com/hot-products/hac106+single+phase+brushless+alternator.html

E-screw driver images in the link below and buy

https://www.jumia.co.ke/generic-electric-screwdriver-battery-operated-cordless-screwdriver-electric-drill-tools.-9613734.html

Click the link below to get a glimpse of Cameroon made buses

https://www.facebook.com/1626287774333820/posts/les-bus-made-in-cameroun-bravo-sotrabus-sa-canocam-et-ccmm-grace-a-vous-les-tran/2103797749916151/

https://www.facebook.com/pg/Labognezer-com-1626287774333820/posts/

Since u got cash, u promote open dubious things, u as well being monitored, anyway its a blessing in disguise. Russia dont do what u r doing, dont put money online then u bar access to other people while the people who have the software to withdraw r on ya neck or looking at you in awe like after a month of putting on like cloths or shoes that they are too old so u dont belong cause them they buy them in 1 week and it doesn’t cost a thing from online sources they withdraw it and buy. Usa do the same so kids and people leave their shoes 4 African market to sell much resorting to tricks above cause much a dubious ways are blocked. Burn ya shoes or clothing and stop used cloth business as it facilitates the above. We dont afford a sleep dude, no kidding, business dont move on out of this, they got voodoo if they look at u, your body comes small and if u persist wearing such, kinda, they, threaten ya like wanting to ambush ya next. Like in the link below, most hardworking people dont love new things, they mock ya and if u buy they follow u got money, which character is that. Folks dont overstep, its not done that way dude, mind ya business bro, it now calls 4 annihilation as siren gas, too much too bear if they dont relent

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQ7FpYDQLOI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4kGvlESGvbs

All below are Nigerian made alternator or no fuel generator links

watt fueless generator

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/541980136400654349/

https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBD_enKE883KE883&q=eco+fuelless+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiFhd_llPfoAhUCxhoKHT02DdIQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=881

Buy nigeria made Eco fuel less generator in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=eco+fueless+generator+made+in+which+country&rlz=1C1CHBD_enKE883KE883&oq=eco+fueless+generator+made+in+which+country&aqs=chrome..69i57j69i64.11543j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

Tritech fuel less generator  

https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBD_enKE883KE883&q=tritech+fuelless+generator+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiBx8e3lPfoAhWmxoUKHS_JBtkQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=881

Contact the suppliers of the alternator generators in the beside link

https://connect2india.com/Ac-Alternators-Generators-suppliers

Fuel-less gen images  

https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBD_enKE883KE883&q=made+in+ghana+fuelless+generator&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwinleq9kvfoAhUSyYUKHS25BcMQsAR6BAgHEAE&biw=1280&bih=881

[sebastians-thotties]

Cunt means family by: The sebastian’s thotties discord server

Summary:

im so sorry

this is legitimately horrible PLEASE dont read this

Notes:

A thanks for everyone in my Sebastian's Thotties Discord server, as well as everyone that runs it's Tumblr account!

This horrendous, disgusting, somehow plot-concurring fic was written by:

- sweets (https://[email protected]/) - claude (https://claudescrustytoe.tumblr.com/) - saturn (https://saturnberry.tumblr.com/) - pimply (https://undertakers-pimply-dick.tumblr.com/) - stale (https://stale--baguette.tumblr.com/)

and whoever else i don't remember because everyone was on anon when we were working in the fic together in google docs!!!!

LINK TO THE AO3 VER: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011355/chapters/52527664

-mod sweets 

Twas a cold caturday morning when our darling sebby woke up, with a cold, big thick ass pastel cock up his ass, “How odd, "he exclaimed, "I don’t know anyone rich enough to leave you here, “ he said, caressing it’s thicc lengthy shaft with his twink fingers.

They must be rich since they seem to have dildos to spare; still leaving this lovely one here what a waste of good dick . under the right circumstances this lovely dicc would’ve went to the right college, married a lovely waifu and had half a dozen brats. “Ah but alas, " The raven-haired mess exclaimed, “ It ended up cold, alone and covered in shit in my phat ass who’s cheek claps can be heard from miles away…...how tragic. ”

Now struggling to hold back the tears,“If only there was a lovely older onii-chan type man to love me manly enough to make me wet yet feminine enough to wear a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness BUT I KNOW NONE! “ Now sobbing into his velvet bed sheets with his perfect twink face buried into said sheets, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

Breathing in the smell of his past lovers it must be noted that it’s easy to smell them because he doesn’t wash it but I digress, ashy washy landers, Brendon urine, the big bad wolfram,  and snoop dogg the fifth, he couldn’t help but let out an audible moan at the thought of the last one he and his masculine frame AH ! just the thought of him sent seb into a world of pleasure and ecstasy ! his thick Egyptian accent, his tones chest, his amazing rapping skills the way he nibbled on seb’s neck and ear whispering sweet nothings in the devil's ear “ how ya doing lil ma let me whisper in yo ear …..” Ah ! how irresistible . now THAT was a man!   he lets out a sigh why yes ...WAS a man ...WAS MY man but not anymore he lets out a muffled cry why? why did you leave me? he silently questions was it because I was too loose ? was it my multiple sugar daddies? me fucking his dad on our wedding night? that couldn’t be it! no one would get mad over something s o trivial it couldn’t have broken them up! Their bond was too strong!

“My, whatever do you mean?” A voice came from the nearby closet. It was Tanaka, in his skinty, flabby, glory, wearing nothing but a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness.  “I thought you knew me, sebas-chan~~~~~ ?”

The old man smiled, waving his ass six feet off the ground for sebascunt to see. “I got all ready for you~~~~ arent you~~~~ EnTiCed~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~? OwO!”

As everything was unfolding, Undertaker was watching from under the bed. His toes curling in excitement as he heard Tanaka's phat ass clapping AND EXPELLING HOT LUBE as he walked towards Sebastian. He quickly changed into his sluty maid outfit and brushed his greasy lice-ridden pubes fosebastianba

Tnaksa gasped, upon seeing Undertaker crawling from under the bed, his piss-filled pubes on display. “O-h!!!!!!! Undie-chan!!!!!!!!!!!1 what are you doing here, baby>??? U said u wouLD be wiv me prIVATELY tomorrow night when mY furry costume was ready!!!!!!!11” He asked Underfucker, clearly shocked that he was THERE.

"My b-bby I could n-not wait for your sexiness,,,,," undertaker muttered as shakedked his ass as lice and cockroaches shed from it.

Sebastslut gasped upon seeing the weenerroaches. “nYA!!!!!!!!1 UNDERDERTAKE4FR WHERE DID U GET THAT FROM!!! They’re my favorite~~~ form of lube~~~~.”

Undertaker blushed as he looked over to Sebastain, "Bby,,,how could I forget our nights of passion???" Undertaker excitedly said.

“Oh dear, I LOVED it when you took me anally, all those years ago,  during the black plague . . . because of you, my insides have never been the same - they’re FILLED TO THE BRIM with magGots~~~” Sebastwian moaned, sexily creeping his way towards his baby daddy, Underfaker.

Then appeared Claude, who watched creepily from the window. His three-headed dick jumped with excitement seeing the sexy commotion, and his eyes darted around the room, first seeing tanakas sexy as fuck ass with all of the sweaty old man juices ravishing the hair. “Oh, mama Mia what a man,” he exclaimed. He clenched his asscheeks in his brand new sebby Chan underwear, “I feel like a weeb school girl watching her favorite anime. Today’s a perfect day for a big summer BLOW out! "he snickers, his three penis heads dancing like a sugar plum fairy.

Just then, Grell joined outside the adjacent window. She was dressed in a sparkly thong and lacy thigh highs, a devious grin shown on her currently bloody lips.

You see, she had only just come back from consuming the pussies of the innocent, which consisted of, quite literally eating pussy . . .   like spaghetti in a fancy restaurant, and having a business meeting with Garfield about the latest shipment of his favorite lasagna. So, now she was looking for new victims . . . Wait, did I say victims?

I meant lovers .

Grell silently slipped into the room, her coochie on display for all to see as she pulled her scythe -shit-covered- from her perky ass. “Hi baby s ~~~~~~` I came for soME~~~~~ COOCHIIE EATING! "

Sebastian looked up from sucking Undertaker’s rotting toenails, his period-blood red eyes wide with shock. “G-Grell-chan???? What~~! Are you doing here~?”

She smiles while grabbing her left titty and stretching it out like a spring, pulling it so she could suck it like a lollipop. "Want some, slutdaddy?”

Sebastian gasped at the lady, his 10-mile long wiener suddenly growing very, VERY HARD. - even harder than when undertaker had taken his virginity 32499484984238042 years prior. “Yes please~~~ momY !~~! Give it to me hard -!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1”

“Give it to you hard, mate???? How she gonna give ya what you need, slUT~” a voice suddenly asked, coming from the door.

Everyone on the room GASPED in utter shock, upon finally getting to see who it was…..Baldroy…

There he was, standing in the doorway, his MASSIVE, JUICY, PENIS ON DISPLAY FOR EVERYONE TO SEE, SO FUCKING LONG THAT IT WAS LAYING ON THE FLOOR.

“I’ll get you good, mate~” Bard puurrreeeed, licking his crusty, unbrushed teeth with a cocky smile.

He wrapped his arm around Sebastian, licking eyeballs as sebastian MOANED in pleasure. “Please~~~~~~~~~~ mate~~~~~~~ ditch grell. She can never eat your pp like I could~~~”

Practically unable to contain himself any longer, Sebastian nodded, drool escaping his mouth like it was a fucking waterfall.

He crawled to bard, wagging  his PHATT ASS in the air as he waited for entrance. “Daddy….pLEASE!”

Sebasslut moaned pitfully, smiling as he continuously brushed up aganist bard’s snake of a cock, all while everyone watched in shock, hands on their own weiners and coochies, unable to stop themselves any longer.

“Do you take requests~?” Claude asked, hissing like Grell just stepped on his frog feet (which she did, btw).

Whipping his head around, seb gave him a nod and an approving jIGGLE JIGGLE of his flabby, tHICC emo e-boy ASS. “Come and ask spider legs, and you~~~~~~~~~” he blinked (he was trying to wink, but as we all know, simple tasks for sebastian never quite work out well), showing off his balls.

“Can you~~~~~~~~ please eat undertakers greasy, mOIST hair~?” Claude begged an evil smirk on his lips.

Sebastard nodded, grinning as undersucker cackled in delight, shoving his sweat-filled pubes in Sebastian’s not-virgin mouth.

Just then, after about 3 hrs of struggle (and some bloodcurdling screams), Bard had FINALLY managed to shove his 50-yard long weewee in sebayedn’s arse, resulting in a heart attack from the poor demon.

“OOOOOooOOoOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 THERE GOES ME COCK,  YE FELLOW WEENIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” bard ROARED, laughing as he ruthlessly DESTROYED sebastian’s danity insides.

“aaaaAHHHHHHHHHHH DADDY BARD!!!! I CAN’T HANDLE YOUR SNAKE INSIDE ME!!!!”

#kuroshitsuji #kuro #lemon #crack #crack fic #fanfiction #sebastian michaelis #tanaka #bard #grell sutcliff #claude faustus #fanfction #black butler #kuroshitpost