#HR called last week and was all like
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benechillax · 9 months ago
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man i think i’m 5 seconds away from a mental breakdown
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I fucking hate part-time work, this shit is so stupid
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tkbrokkoli · 1 year ago
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how are my mutuals doing
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cryptidapprentice · 1 year ago
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literally why the hell am i always so anxious to call out of work
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the-everqueen · 1 year ago
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those spotify games (wrapped, put your playlist on shuffle, etc.) don't work on me because i listen to music Wrong
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j-esbian · 1 year ago
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can just like. one fucking thing go right. please
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blkkizzat · 3 months ago
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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series
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visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?! classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi. incidents: 4.4k .......shout outs to @yung-notorious for beta-ing some of this!
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*knock-knock-knock-knock-knock*
Rapid, insistent knocks interrupt your laughter as you chat with friends, carefully brushing a fresh coat of polish onto your toes. You weren’t expecting anyone, but the familiar, overly enthusiastic rhythm—knocking out the tune of Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up"—leaves no doubt who it is.
Satoru.
You sigh.
Although you haven’t seen Gojo much lately and are usually happy to see him, his timing this time irritates you for a couple reasons—first, of course he’d interrupt right in the middle of your much-needed girl time! You were desperate to hang with your friends again, especially after being stuck in lockdown for the last 2 weeks.
There was some juicy tea getting spilled on the call too! 
More importantly, you weren't in a hurry to get up from the sofa—especially with your freshly painted white toes you’d propped up on the coffee table to dry. The last thing you wanted was to ruin them by getting dust on them while answering the door when Gojo wasn’t even supposed to be here right now.
“BBL, y’all.”
Reluctantly ending the call, you switched over to your Ring camera app. 
Sure enough, the security feed loads to reveal Gojo, grinning up at the camera with his glasses perched on the brim of his nose and a large pink shopping bag in hand.
Huh? There’s no way he’s off-work already! 
Taking note of the time it reads 1:30 p.m. confirming that Jujutsu society’s strongest sorcerer is skipping out on work, again—pshh typical. 
“C’mon babe, let me in!”
Urgh, what was he even doing here?! 
Shouldn’t he be the one leading the charge to kill all the doppelgängers? The faster he exorcized them, the sooner you’d finally be able to go outside again.
This doppelgänger outbreak felt like covid quarantine all over and it sucked! 
Satoru needed to get his ass back to work so you wouldn’t waste the best years of your life cooped up inside!
“Go away, doppelgänger!”
You use the intercom feature to speak to Gojo, still not budging from the sofa.
Gojo pouts.
“But it's me, baby! Open the door Bunny bae, please I missed you princess—it’s been too long!”
Satoru’s annoyingly pretty baby blues look even bigger as he pleads into the camera, his lip quivering, making you roll your eyes.
It’s barely been 48 hrs since you’ve last seen him and he still blows up your texts all day! 
But the world’s strongest sorcerer was also the world’s clingiest—so you suppose his doppelgänger would be too. Although, you were pretty sure this was the real deal, that still didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him shit for skipping out on work.
“Huh, that’s funny because there's no way you could be my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, the strongest—and the one who is supposed to be making sure I’m not stuck in the house for another 2 years. It’s been freaking 2 weeks already Toru, I’m going batshit in here!”
Pushing his glasses back in place Gojo hides his scoff, standing up straight. 
Shit.
He hopes you aren’t onto him. 
Sure, he could have contained this whole thing in a few days tops.
Despite the doppelgänger ability to mimic appearances and cursed energy patterns, Gojo’s Six Eyes could see right through it easily. His power allowed him to perceive the core of a soul with perfect clarity, instantly distinguishing the souls of a human and a curse.
But instead of resolving the problem quickly, Gojo made up all kinds of excuses to you (and especially to the higher-ups) about why it was taking longer than expected. 
The truth was, simple though—for once, just this once, he decided he had earned the right to be selfish.
Not having met you until after the covid quarantine, Gojo had never experienced that kind of isolation with you—and was immensely jealous that your last boyfriend had. Now that he had a taste of it, there was nothing he wanted more than to keep his lil bun-bun safely caged up, waiting for his return everyday (and he did try to make it back everyday).
Okay, so he is in fact being really selfish.
Luckily for everyone else though, most of these doppelgänger  curses are relatively harmless other than causing absolute chaos with their mere existence alone—unfortunately they could also be seen by people even lacking cursed energy.
Gojo took care of the stronger ones, the ones with more nefarious intentions, while letting the little ones continue to run loose—all so he could have you to himself. 
Unbeknownst to you, Gojo is intentionally sentencing you to what seems like a never ending cycle of boredom so that when he finally gets home you cling to him like a grain of sweet sticky rice. So eager for any external stimuli or interaction you’d be up for all manner of his perversions you’d normally shoot him down for.
That didn’t mean you weren’t still a brat though, making him work for it—something that Gojo also noted was his fault though for spoiling you rotten, not being able to deny you anything. So you pretend to be annoyed when he showed up, but Gojo knew the truth—those thick thighs of yours would soon have your slick running down. Your cute, slutty lil pussy dripping would start dripping the moment you’d hear his voice.
Yeah, yeah, he’d get rid of those things eventually—but Gojo was going to enjoy this quarantine with you for a bit longer. 
“Even the strongest need a break baby! I need my sweet lil’ energizer Bunny to recharge my batteries, eh?”
You crinkle up your nose seeing him wiggle his eyebrows on camera. 
He's such a dorky cornball.
“And this break…it’s approved by Yaga, hm?” Gojo whines at your questioning, not wanting you to deny him any longer nor throw technicalities in his face he didn’t wanna have to answer.
“Come on, Bunny! I even brought you real nice gifts to show you how much I missed you!”
The hot pink shopping bag sways in front of the camera, Gojo dangling it as if it were supposed to be a tempting treat. 
But he’d have to do better than some generic pink shopping bag to impress you!
You’ve gone back to your toenails, starting to apply the top coat while you let him squirm out there for a while longer. You knew he could break the barrier in the blink of an eye but you also knew that he was a big enough baby to want you to let him in on your own. 
Well tough luck brah.
“That sure doesn’t look like a Chanel shopping bag, Toru!”
“Um, that’s cause it’s not—Bunny you told me you don’t even like me picking you out clothes anymore!”
You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes—of course you said that as whenever Gojo picked something out for you, it ended up being the most scandalous or over-the-top piece in the store. How he would even managed that at a classy brand like Chanel, you had no idea. (Though, little do you know, in reality, he always acted they were ready-to-wear while they were custom-made—just for you.)
“I got us some toys, baby bun! Don’t you wanna play with me?”
You don’t need to ask him ‘what kind of toys’ from the goofy ass expression that is on his face. 
“That’s not making me want to let you in at all, Doru!”  
“Hah? Wha—Doru!?”
“Yeah, short for Dopple-Toru.”
You try to keep a straight face but can’t help giggling as you sneak a peek at your phone, still putting on as if you're completely ignoring him. His expression on the camera is priceless though and you wish you could snap a screenshot of his mouth wide open, glasses nearly sliding off, looking utterly incredulous.
“Hey! Come on, Bunny bae, that's not funny! I know you know it’s me—and I also know your pretty pussy misses me!” 
Oh knew, it was your perv ass boyfriend and yeah you did miss him—but you missed your freedom more! And for that reason you are gonna make him think twice before trying to skip out on work again. Not to mention, for having the nerve to show up once you finally found something interesting to stave away your boredom other than him!
“Hmm, I don’t know—prove it then, Doru…”
While Gojo loves goading you into playing games and usually lets you win them too, after nearly 48 ‘grueling hours’ away from you, all he wants now is to simply relax in your company. Ya know, nothing too crazy, just the typical cuddles with him calmly resting his face on your titties while his cock nestles deep up against your cervix—just something casual.
Gojo calling your bluff, ups the ante.
“Heh, kay…”
You’re actually not paying attention this time, admiring your work on your toes and contemplating on the color you should paint your fingernails as Gojo goes silent for a moment. 
Yet once you hear a loud zip, the rustling of fabric, and a belt clank to the ground your eyes practically bulge out of your head as you grab your phone, bringing it comically close to your face while blinking multiple times just to be sure. 
Satoru quite literally has dick and balls out, dangling in the breeze, in front of the entire goddamn neighborhood!
And despite your initial horror and best efforts to remain upset, you pause, your inner slut causing a slight brain malfunction—as even from the small ring camera you can see his deliciously thick cock bobbing fully erect while his mushroomy tip shamelessly drips viscous globs of pre onto your welcome mat.
Thankfully your short-circuiting of common sense only lasts a few seconds before it starts functioning again.
“TORU HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING SUGAR-FUELED MIND!? YOU KNOW THE HOA IS ONE MORE INCIDENT AWAY FROM KICKING ME OUT, RIGHT!?”
Sighing, you groan in dismay as you’ve been on thin ice with your HOA for a while now because of Gojo. 
Not only have you received the most noise complaints in the neighborhood by far, but he also made ‘alterations’ to your home by installing unsanctioned rows of cypress trees. Claiming it was a safety precaution to block the view inside your home from your ‘sketchy neighbors.’ He also ever so obnoxiously takes up 2 parking spots on the street so no one could even “park too close to scratch his Benz” and even sometimes double parked in front of your neighbors house when all the street parking was taken.
You would most definitely be kicked out if anyone in the neighborhood saw all of Gojo’s fairly large bits and pieces freely on display.
And yeah, Gojo did know that. 
He also knew if you got kicked out and had to move you’d have no excuse then not to move-in with him.
Where else would you be able to stay on such short notice? He soon turn that temporary situation into a more permanent one too.
Finally leaping to your feet, you practically trip over yourself—all thoughts of preserving your polish forgotten—as you sprint to the front door.
You can’t get there fast enough, yet as soon as you do, you don't hesitate to lower the barrier and fling the door open.
“Hey sweetn—”
Cutting him off, you grab Gojo by his collar and yank him inside before slamming the door shut behind you.
But you don’t get a chance to scold him. The moment you turn to face him, your lips suddenly meet his, and his large frame envelops yours into a warm embrace.
Your first instinct is to push him away, but even when meeting your furious eyes he just grins knowingly—twirling his pointer finger in the air above him. You frown, confused, until it hits you—Gojo has set up another barrier over your own.
No one could have seen him, but he’d let you believe that so you’d let him in faster.
Urgh, Toru is far too crafty for his own damned good.
It's your turn to pout now, having clearly lost this round badly. 
But Gojo doesn’t let the expression linger—his mouth is hot and hungry on yours again in an instant. Your soft lips are easily parted by his thumb as he slows to tease his way past your lips to glide his silken tongue into your mouth causing him to sigh—you taste sweeter than any candy to him.
The kiss soon turns more passionate as the strokes of his tongue flick longingly over yours, devouring you as he skillfully melts away your anger—in addition to all the bones in your legs. Reduced to a puddle of goo you completely forget you were just about to cuss him out as your legs now press together from the throbbing between your thighs. Your need becoming more agonizing as you grow dizzy from the lack of air.
When Gojo finally lets you breathe again, he chuckles at your dazed expression. Your lids are lowered and you press your body deeper into his own, clutching onto his collar as you nestle your face into his neck, savoring his scent washing over you. 
“So despite all that sass, I take it you actually missed me then?”
You nod eagerly against his skin, in spite of yourself. Even though he isn’t supposed to be here right now, you can’t hold back any longer how happy you are to see him.
“And my pretty Bunny girl is going to let me play with her now?—All of her?”
You gasp as Gojo does not wait for an answer before slipping a hand into your shorts. Hissing at your heat, Gojo swipes his thumb over the outer folds of your cunt and his fingers quickly are becoming soaked before they even got the chance to get up inside you.
Placing a chaste kiss on your temple Gojo's agile fingers had merely confirmed what he already knew: You’re utterly drenched—his needy, cute lil’ pussy was quite literally begging for him and who was he to deny her?
ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩
“F—Fuck! P-pussy too good. Keep the phone up though, nice and straight Bunny! T-That’s it, you’re the best! SHIIIIT— n’you got the cutest sluttiest lil cunny! C-Can you get a close up of how well my cock is digging out your pretty lil’ bunny hole?”
“Mmmgh!”
Gojo’s filthy words and his even filthier fat cock are bringing you closer to your ecstasy filled ruin as they push you past your limits, engorged veins scraping your walls with every thrust. You're covered in sweat and your entire body buzzes—quite literally as there are vibrating clamps suctioned onto each of your nipples. 
Mmmm, it all was driving you wild!
Not imagining yourself in this position when you woke up this morning at all.
Especially as initially, when Gojo said he bought toys, you thought he had meant fuzzy handcuffs, silken ropes or maybe even some more of that warm edible candle wax that tastes like strawberries—but all this!? 
You could barely see out of your bleary, tear-filled eyes completely caking your cheeks in streaks of your mascara that while supposedly waterproof, definitely is not Gojo Satoru proof. 
In addition to the mind-numbing bliss radiating off your swollen perky buds, your body was covered in some sort of edible oily slick. The warmth was initially similar to that of candle wax—yet morphed into anything but. This time the heat was coming from the flames your own body generated as the effects of the candied warming oil made every part of you saturated in the fluid buzz with need. 
Of course, after soaking your body with it down the tips of your toes and paying extra attention to your nipples, Gojo had been thoughtful enough to pour the most of the remaining bottle over your throbbing lil’ clit. 
Except now there isn’t just a shallow throb between your legs as the fiery sensation of every individual nerve in your cunt was cries out for him to ruin you harder. 
Your legs are wrapped around him impossibly tight as your heels dig into the small of his back and yet somehow, he still manages to snake a hand between your slippery bodies to pet his favorite girly spot on you—your clit. Toying with the swollen nub in a painfully slow manner compared to the intensified thrashing of his hips against your own. 
The motions only serve to push the heart-shaped platinum and pink sapphire adorned butt plug deeper into your ass with every loud vulgar smack of your wet bodies joining—the strange feeling of it jostling against the very walls his cock was drilling has you drooling as Gojo further tests the limits of passion he can push over.   
“C’mon Bunny, you're going to miss the best part, ya better capture it really well how much squirt I can pump out of this cute cunny—or we’ll simply just have to do another take. Not that I’d mind spending all day in your pussy…”
You're not in your right mind to scold him for trying to skip out on more work and you certainly don't have the full capacities to hold his phone up any better—what with your hands were tied together over your head to the bed. Gojo utilizing the fuzzy cuffs afterall.
You can’t even really see if you are getting the right angle as you desperately hold onto the device, keeping it straight and upright lest it slip and drop right on your head. 
“Always such a good girl for me huh, princess?”
Tuh—like he was giving you a choice!
You're unable to clap back though as your tongue, so lax from all the pleasure, sinks back to the roof of your mouth. The slobber gathered pools past your lips, over your chin, down your neck to your tits and Gojo is eager to slurp the train up your body and back to your lips, kissing you. 
It goes without saying, but Gojo in ‘director’ mode is absolutely diabolical. 
The reason being needs the perfect footage of him playing in your guts to make sure he had good enough material to fap to if you wanted him to spend more time away from you while he hunted down the doppel-curses.
“Be good for me a bit longer, ‘kay baby?”
Yet his gentle coos don’t match his demeanor. 
Glasses long discarded, Gojo’s own blue eyes looked crazed. He’s unconcerned with the sweat matting his hair to the sides of his face or the wave of slick your pussy splashes onto his taut abs. Abs are shuddering from just how tight of a hold your pussy has on him—working him overtime as his heavy pants soon twist into deranged lil whines.
“M-Me and my lil’ buddy missed our two girls so, so, s-sooo much—AH-HAH-F-FAHHHCK! G-Gotta show ya just how much!” 
Shamelessly, Gojo had dubbed his cock—his little buddy—the joke that would have emasculated some men but Gojo made it intentionally with the irony that he was anything but little.
“T-They were made for each other baby—lil’ buddy and the wet pretty girl between these thighs, yeah?”
The ham that he is, Gojo always sounds extra insane whenever a camera is recording, howling with amusement when he watches the playbacks. Yet in this very moment, he was as serious as a heart attack—and you definitely weren't laughing as your weeping pussy gets pounded into deeper into ecstasy filled oblivion. 
“Shhh—Stawwp, S’toruuuuu!”
Tsk, you still could form a coherent thought?  
That simply wouldn’t do for Gojo who is working so hard and bought all these new toys to see you come completely undone—and he needed you too soon as he wouldn’t last much longer in your squishy gooey core himself—not how your cunt was holding him in the wettest sluttiest lil hug. 
There's still one item left that he hadn't used yet though, that in trying to keep up his sleeve he'd nearly forgotten about entirely—his own brain quickly leaving itself on simmer by your greedy lil’ pussy sucking him in so sloppy.
Slightly changing your position for more leverage, he throws one of your legs on his shoulder slotting himself between your cushy thighs while he straddles the other leg. Fucking you sideways with increasing intensity from the bruising grip on your hips pulling your pelvis towards on him as he meets your thrusts smacking directly into your cervix.
“Heh, I know what will finish you off! Ya ready to cum baby? Squirt all on this dick you love so much, eh Bunny?—Yeah ya fuckin' will.”
When you don’t answer right away Gojo delivers a harsh slap directly on your clit, the moisture causing the increased sting to intensify sending your senses into a state of floating. Yet, bringing you back to reality, another harsh smack lands on your cunt and you jerk against your restraints, nearly dropping the phone on your face for real this time.
You don’t understand what he's saying to you but you not regardless, eyes rolling back into your head—every single pore on your skin submerged in pleasure. Completely unaware, you don’t hear the additional buzz of the final toy until you feel its silicone lips latching onto your clit while the rigid faux tongue juts back and forth across your bud.
Eyes practically leaving your skull for the second time today, everything flashes white, blinding you even with your eyes wide open. A scream so guttural it comes out silent, the ball of tension in you finally bursting as releases flushes through your entire body.
Cumming harder than you ever had before, you just let go completely, gushing around Gojo’s thick cock still pistoning in your now drenched pussy. The splash zone from your cunt is quite a bit more than usual as a giant warm wet spot begins to soil and expand underneath you both.
Ears ringing, Gojo sounds a million miles away as you hear him chattering on about something—the phone?
You wiggle your fingers, realizing you must have dropped it, but you’re still clueless about what has him so excited—until Gojo’s voice finally slices through your haze, yelling out in absolute wonderment—
“HOLY SHIT BABY, DID YOU JUST PISS ON ME??? MMM FUCK ME FOR REAL!?—SHIT! YOU WETTER THAN A WATER PARK BUNNY—SO FUCKIN NASTY! PLEASEEEEEE PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU GOT THAT ON CAMERA!”
Suddenly, it dawned on you that when you had let go, you had quite literally let it all go. 
You could die—and if you could muster the strength to move you surely would have raced out to the backyard to quickly dig yourself a whole to do just that in. Yet that clearly would not an acceptable conclusion for your degenerate perv of a boyfriend who is acting like a sinner saved—praising pussy like a newly reborn evangelist baptized in the essence of your erotic filth. 
His elation is simple as he figures how much you really had to trust him to be able to let go and lose yourself to him to that extent—now he wants to lose himself to you as well.
Easily drowning all inside your sloshing pussy like he never swam—Gojo doesn't stop, your pissing only encourages him to fuck himself further into a pussy drunk state to rival your own cock-induced stupor.
Yet, somehow he still maintains enough control to effectively lavish praises for how naughty and shameless your lil pussy is. 
The frenzy drives him directly to his nut, eyes dilate further and slobber frothes past his lips while spearing his cock into you with renewed vigor. Whimpering and stuttering his words and hips alike.  Gojo presses your leg draped across him back against you to be sandwiched between the two of you as leans forward to further ravage your swollen kiss bitten lips again. 
Twisting you up like a pretzel and near the point of passing out from overstimulation you his insane joyous laughter sounds miles away as he topples over his peak pumping ropes of his vicious cum—that he’d been saving up for all you over the last two days—into your battered creamy core. 
Gojo’s thrusts begin to slow but he’s in your guts just as far pushing cockhead right against your cervix stealing your lips into another fiery kiss.
Once Gojo finally lets you breathe air again, you’re completely out of it, the dopey blushing smile on your face. The embarrassment from pissing all over him is completely forgotten as hearts all for him linger in your eyes.
Sex with Toru was never dull to say the very least.
“There you go, there’s my good girl, huh Bunny? Not bored anymore baby?”
Gojo smirks down at you knowingly while peppering your face with sweet loving kisses as you’re steadily drifting off, allowing every exhausted nerve to claim you.
It's still a good minute before Gojo slides out of you, seeinghis discarded phone next to you—it's still recording. A mischevous smile plays on his lips.
Wanting to capture the aftermath of his handiwork, Gojo sweeps the phone across your body, thumbing off moisture from your dewy soft skin soiled with warming oil and sweat. Making sure to linger longer on your lightly heaving chest and the sporadic quiver of your thighs.
Zooming in even closer, Gojo’s two long fingers to part your swollen lips open, admiring more of his work—his masterpiece that was the copious amounts of cum and piss dribbling out of your abused lil’ hole down to the crack of your ass. 
Now Gojo really has a dilemma—he wants to keep filming you as his cum, ever so slowly, trickles out of you. He thinks this scene would make the perfect time-lapse of the creamy sap seeping from your cunt like sugar maple. But he’s also fighting the urge to also suck all the creaminess out of you himself—the cum rimming around your puckered lower hole tempting him to Gojo start there and slurp and suck his way up your clit. 
Truly, he never gets enough of how his taste mingles with yours—and he’s quite curious to know how the additional waterworks will add to your delectable flavor. 
You were so fucking filthy and so willing to try new things all thanks to this doppel quarantine causing you to make this big a mess in the first place.
God he needed this.
More. 
He had to have more from you. 
Gojo couldn’t possibly bring this all to an end anytime soon.  Cooing against your inner thigh Gojo makes a promise to your cunt.
“Heh, don't worry pretty girl, I'ma give you six more months of quarantine at least! Can't wait to—” 
“—TORU, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?!?”
Whoops.
Yeah he definitely thought you were already fast asleep—teehee.
......RESULT: PASSED 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎.
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that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)
comment and reblog! next up toji, already finished posting—10/20
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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pucksandpower · 1 month ago
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I’m a Feminist
Franco Colapinto x team principal!Reader
Summary: everyone knows that Franco has a thing for older women, okay … so when his team principal turns out to be a (stupidly attractive) older woman, he can’t be held responsible for his actions
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Franco sprawls in the chair, arms crossed over his chest like he’s holding court instead of facing an emergency meeting. His grin is wide, cocky even, and wholly unapologetic. Across the desk, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing patience to come like some kind of divine miracle.
“Explain,” you say, voice flat, your tone giving nothing away. You refuse to let him see how utterly exhausted you already are by this conversation.
“I sneezed,” Franco says with a shrug, “and liked all your pictures. Really, it was — how do you say — an accident.”
You stare. No, you glare. "And commented damn mommy on all of them?”
Franco falters — barely. There’s a half-second where his grin wavers, his bravado cracks, but then it’s gone, replaced by another shrug. “I-I have the flu?”
Your exhale is sharp, just shy of a growl. “Franco.”
“What?” He leans forward now, feigning innocence. “Is it so bad? You look muy guapa in your photos. Should I not celebrate my team principal’s beauty? This feels sexist, no?”
“Sexist?” Your eyebrows climb so high they might leave your face.
“I’m a feminist,” he announces, as if that explains everything.
“Do feminists call their bosses ‘mommy’ in the comments?”
“Only the hot ones,” he shoots back without missing a beat, then quickly adds, “Joking! I’m joking.”
You slam your palms down on the desk, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it widens. “Do you even understand how unprofessional this is? I have sponsors asking me if I’ve been hacked! The CEO of Dorilton Capital called me himself this morning!”
Franco’s face lights up like you’ve just paid him a compliment. “Darren! He likes me. He said I was charming.”
“He said you were a walking HR violation!”
His grin falters again, but there’s something annoyingly endearing about how quickly it returns. “Well, at least he talked about me.”
You sink back into your chair and drag a hand through your hair. God, you’re tired. “Do you even know how this looks? You went through every single photo I’ve ever posted. Franco, that’s-”
“Dedicated?”
“Obsessive,” you snap. “Creepy. Insane.”
“Romantic,” he offers, leaning back again like he’s just solved a puzzle.
“You are twenty-one years old!”
“And you’re …” He trails off, letting the sentence dangle in the air like bait.
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
He smirks. “I was going to say timeless.”
“Franco, enough.” Your voice is sharp enough to cut through his bravado, and for the first time, he looks a little serious. “Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in? If this gets out-”
“It won’t.”
“It already has! You didn’t think people would notice when every post I’ve made since 2016 suddenly has your username in the likes and comments?”
Franco shrugs. “I’m a fan.”
“A fan?” You throw your hands up. “What are you even a fan of? My press conferences? My sponsor meetings? My ability to yell at you when you ruin your tires on lap seventeen?”
His grin returns, this time with a little more sheepishness. “How sexy you look doing that last one, mostly.”
Your head falls into your hands, and for a moment, there’s silence. You think — foolishly — that maybe he’s finally run out of things to say.
But no.
“You never answered my DM,” he says, voice lighter, teasing.
Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”
“Last week,” he says, tilting his head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I sent you a DM. Very respectful. Very sweet.”
“I don’t even check my DMs!”
“Well, now I’m offended.” He places a hand over his heart like he’s genuinely wounded.
“I’m going to lose my job,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Franco says, waving you off. “You’re too good to lose your job. Everyone knows that.”
You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s dramatic! I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation right now.”
“I can’t believe you’re not flattered,” he counters, leaning forward again. “I thought women liked grand gestures.”
“Grand gestures?” You bark out a laugh, humorless and sharp. “Franco, this isn’t a romantic comedy. You don’t win me over by cyberstalking me!”
“Cyberstalking?” His mouth falls open, mock-offended. “That’s harsh, no? I think of it more like … research.”
“Research?”
“Sí. I’m just a very dedicated employee.”
“Dedicated?” Your laugh this time is louder, more incredulous. “I swear to God-”
“Would it help if I apologized?” He interrupts, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering.
“Yes,” you say immediately.
He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you in that unnervingly focused way he sometimes has, the one that makes you feel like he’s cataloging every detail of your expression. “You wouldn’t believe me, though. Even if I apologized, you’d think I was lying.”
“Because you would be lying.”
“Touché.” He grins again, but this time it’s softer, less of a weapon and more of a shield. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry. But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter.
“I mean it,” he says, and for the first time, there’s something like sincerity in his voice. “I thought it was funny. I didn’t think-”
“That’s the problem, Franco. You didn’t think.”
There’s a beat of silence. For a second, you think you’ve finally gotten through to him. His expression shifts, the grin fading into something that almost looks like remorse.
Then he says, “But if I had thought about it, you’d still be mad, so really, why bother?”
“Franco!”
He laughs, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more liking your pictures, no more comments, no more DMs. Contenta?”
You eye him warily. “You swear?”
“On my life.”
“Franco.”
“On my seat,” he amends, holding a hand to his chest.
You sigh, long and heavy, but you nod. “Fine. Just — keep your head down for a while, okay? Don’t give anyone else a reason to call me about this.”
He stands, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. “Anything for you … mommy.”
“And don’t call me ‘mommy,’” you snap as he heads for the door.
He pauses, hand on the handle, and glances back over his shoulder, smirk firmly in place. “Not even in private?”
“Franco!”
He’s laughing as he leaves, the sound echoing in the hallway long after the door closes behind him. You sink back into your chair, exhausted, and wonder — not for the first time —if this job is going to kill you.
And if it does, you think grimly, it’ll probably be Franco Colapinto’s fault.
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sgkjd · 2 years ago
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psych institutions should be awarded for being the most unfriendly places for nd and mentally ill folk. funnily enough. do they not know what demographic uses their services?
#vent in tags#the fuck wdym i need to CALL you so many times bc i need to schedule my assessment date#(bc first of all i asked to be put into psych ward to get evaluated bc i thought it'd be faster and id save money and stress of even getting#there bc it's 2+ hrs drive away and they told me they'll call me 'next week' bc in summer the waiting queue is not really long#but they didn't call!!!!!!!!!! and i called them on literally friday and said i want to do just the assessment whatever i'll get a bus there#even if it's 3 times bc i couldn't wait any longer since i was starting a job#and they said 'well the doctor is now on vacation since YESTERDAY so you'll have to call this number when he's back in the middle of july'#so like they never even meant to call me 'next week' as they said in the first place???#i said ok will do so and then i called on the 14th and they said the doctor's not back yet he's starting work from the 18th#tf!!! why not tell me exact date in the beginning#and the fucking receptionist or whatever was so judgemental bc i didn't know the doctor's name#and i said 'yeah idk bc i saw him for the first time ONCE last time' and i just happened to see him bc the doctor i had the appointment with#apparently got sick the exact day i was meant to arrive and no one from the staff knew that they were sick??????#so they quickly arranged a doctor that was available#and he didn't even introduce himself#but that receptionist got my blood boiling so much i was like 'cant you like check what doctor i had an appt with by my name???'#ITS LITERALLY NOT THAT HARD AND THEY WERE SO 'how can you not know your doctor's name [insert diminutive form to call me]'#eng equivalent would literally be 'little girl/boy' yeah they literally called me like that and also misgendered me#so that felt like double the insult#and so i have to call for the fucking third time today and im procrastinating it so bad like im so anxious#double the anxiousness that the last times#; words generated by me
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leashybebes · 2 months ago
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Hi! Love your work so much! I have a very vague prompt and it’s just Tommy being emotionally vulnerable with Buck. Idc what about I just need this man in tears please and thanks.
well this got longer than intended! i've skimmed over it but basically banged it out in fifteen minutes bc turns out i also need this man in tears
When the bubble pops six weeks after Tommy walked out of the loft, it's not at all what Buck was expecting. He'd hoped for an 'I'm sorry', an 'I was wrong', an 'I want you back'. In bitter moments, he'd even hoped for Tommy to say something really dickish so Buck could just hate him and get on with his life. Hell, even a random string of letters that Buck could interpret as an accident or an attempt to open the lines of communication depending on his mood.
What he gets is:
I've been going to therapy
Finally, right?
I hate it
And then radio silence for the better part of an hour. Buck is about to tear his hair out. He drafts and doesn't send half a dozen responses. The loft smells of chocolate cake by the time the next message comes through.
Sorry, call.
Tell me to get lost, it's fine. But I was wondering if we could talk. I owe you an explanation.
Buck reads it twice, takes the cake out of the oven to cool. Scrolls back up to read the messages from the start. Later, once the cake is filled with sharp redcurrant jelly and covered in a perhaps overly generous layer of toffee buttercream, he picks up his phone again.
I owe you an explanation is glaring at him.
Yeah you do, he sends back. Come over when your shift is done.
The reply is almost instant:
Thank you. 2 hrs.
Two hours suddenly feels like both not enough time to prepare, and far too much time to tie himself up in knots. He deep cleans the kitchen, makes a shopping list, checks in with Maddie. He doesn't mention that he's going to see Tommy.
Somehow, two hours pass in the blink of an eye and Buck realizes - he has no idea what he's going to say. He's spent the last month and a half trying with everything in him not to call Tommy, and he's just now realizing he has no idea what he would have said if he'd given into the urge. Maybe he just wanted to hear the guy's voice, and now he's about to, and he has no idea what to do with himself.
The knock at the door makes him jolt, and that's it, there's no more time to think. His first thought when he opens the door is that it's not fair that Tommy looks so good. He has no business looking so good. His hair is freshly trimmed, those greys at his temple that admittedly send Buck a little feral sparkling in the low light of the hall, his favorite blue Henley soft and stretched across the bulk of his chest, his eyes - Buck's whole train of thought derails because he looks again and Tommy looks - scared. Sad. Like he's holding back from flinching by the skin of his teeth.
"Hey, Tommy."
"Hi, Evan."
Evan, he notes. Steps back. Waves Tommy inside. Tries not to notice the way Tommy's face crumples a little as he steps over the threshold.
"Never thought I'd be here again," he says.
"Me either," Buck admits. "Well, after the first couple weeks when I - " When I sat around and waited for you to come back and tell me you made a mistake. He bites his tongue. Much as he wants to be real bitchy about this, Tommy looks like he is on the edge, and nothing in Buck wants to make that worse.
"You want a coffee?"
"Uh. Sure," Tommy says, and it gives Buck the opportunity to turn his back, to breathe. He's achingly aware of Tommy behind him, of the gravity of his presence, the sound of his breathing (a little shaky), the slight creak as he takes a seat. Buck still has the stupid almond milk and the stupid syrup Tommy likes in his stupid candy flavored coffee, has been buying the former on reflex and can't bring himself to use the latter and taste Tommy's kisses without the man himself. He makes the coffee, even cuts Tommy a slice of cake, and dumps them both in front of him.
Tommy blinks down at the cake, up at Buck. "You made that?"
"Yeah," Buck says. "Been getting real into baking since - well, since."
"Oh." Tommy chews on his lip, looks away again.
"Every time I wanna call you, I bake," Buck admits, the words falling into the silence between them with more weight than they deserve given how ridiculous they are, really.
Tommy glances up at him. "Yeah?"
Buck swivels, pulls open the door to his fridge which is still groaning under the weight of saran wrapped loaves and cakes and tupperwares full of cookies.
"That's - that's a lot."
Buck shrugs. "Yeah, well."
The silence is painful. Awkward in a way they've never really been with each other. Buck throws himself down onto the stool opposite Tommy, tries not to think about how this is exactly where they were sitting when - when. From the look on his face, the way Tommy can't meet his eyes, he's thinking the exact same thing. This is - it's the worst, Buck thinks miserably.
"So, therapy, huh?" he blurts out.
Tommy nods, takes a deep breath. "After I left that night, I - I drove to the movie theater."
Buck blinks. That is…not what he was expecting. "Uh…"
"Bought a ticket and everything. Realized on my way in that that's - that's not normal. Nothing I did that night was normal. You - you made me so happy, and I blew that up the second it sounded like maybe you wanted something long-term. That - that's not normal. The way I think about - about relationships, about love, about myself. It's not normal."
Buck feels like he's holding his breath.
"So I went home. Drank a couple of beers. Psyched myself up. Booked an appointment for the next day."
"That's…" Buck doesn't know what to say. "That's quick."
"Yeah. I don't - " Tommy looks away. Buck can't see it, but he can tell that he's bouncing his leg anxiously. "I wanna stop being a fucking - a wrecking ball. I wanna stop hurting people, stop hurting myself, but it feels like it's all I do."
Buck can't bite his tongue quick enough. "You make choices, Tommy."
Tommy nods and shrinks in on himself. "I know that. I do. It doesn't feel like it, but I do. I get scared and I make the worse choice every time because it's easier than being brave, and I tell myself it's the only choice but - it's not. I know that. I do know that. I'm - I'm so fucked up, Evan."
His eyes are swimming with tears and Buck knows he's no better. Everything in him is screaming at him to reach out, but he clenches his hands together under the table to stop himself. This is - this is maybe the most real Tommy's ever been with him, maybe the most real he's seen Tommy be with himself, and Buck doesn't want to interrupt it, even as every part of him wants to gather Tommy up to him and soothe him and promise him everything's okay. Everything's so far from okay. He watches Tommy take a few deep breaths, recognises the pattern and the count from his own therapy sessions.
"My - my dad - you know, he's an asshole. But he wasn't always. He and my mom - they were so in love. I mean, stars in their eyes, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else, they adored each other. Even before she died, I didn't - there wasn't space for me in there. And after - I guess I remind him of what he lost. They loved each other, and it hurt me. Abby loved me, and I hurt her. I loved N - Nick, and he h - hurt me. I - "
Tommy clears his throat wetly and looks away while Buck thinks who the fuck is Nick and how do I break his kneecaps?
"You what, Tommy?" he asks instead, and it comes out gently.
"I love you," Tommy says, and Buck pretends he isn't paying attention to the tense, pretends his heart isn't rabbiting inside his chest. "I love you, and I hurt us both and I'm - I'm poison, Evan, I'm nothing but sharp edges but I swear I'm trying not to be and I know it's too late but I'm so - I'm so sorry, I'm so - "
He's fully crying now, trying to hide his face in his hands and Buck can't hold back anymore, closes the space between them and gets his arms around the bulk of Tommy's shoulders where they're shaking.
"Don't," Tommy begs, his whole body tightening, so tense Buck's worried something is going to snap. "Don't - d - don't - I don't deserve - "
"Shh," Buck says, pressing his face into Tommy's hair and stopping himself from making it a kiss at the last second. "I don't care what you think you deserve, just let me hold you, okay? Just let me."
Tommy cries harder, soaking Buck's shirt, and Buck doesn't know how long it goes on for but suddenly Tommy's holding him too, clinging in a way he never has before, in a way that feels desperate and fierce and heartbroken.
"It's okay," Buck promises in spite of himself. He strokes his fingers over the short cropped hairs on the nape of Tommy's neck. "I've got you, it's okay. Just try to breathe, baby, you're gonna make yourself sick."
Baby slips out without any intention on his part, but Tommy doesn't seem to notice, just heaves in a hitching, gulping breath, then another, and another. He shifts in Buck's arms, pulling away and Buck lets him. He doesn't retreat to his own seat though, doesn't feel right to put any distance between them while Tommy presses the heels of his hands into his eyes like he can force the tears back inside.
"I'm sorry," he says, when he's a little calmer. "I've got no right - "
"Stop, okay. Just - stop being so horrible to yourself."
Tommy nods. "Yeah. Working on that. I know - I know it's too late, and I swear I didn't come here with the intention of - of crying all over you and making you feel bad for me. I just - I wanted you to know that I'm sorry, and I know that I fucked up real bad. I know - like I said, I know it's too little, too late, but I want you to know I'm working on - on being better."
Buck chews on the inside of his lip clearly for a second too long because Tommy gives a sharp little nod.
"That's all I wanted to say," he says, pushing back from the table and starting to stand. "I'll get out of your - "
"Sit your ass down," Buck says, a little rougher than he intended. Tommy does as he's told, blinking rapidly and Buck pushes away from the table, paces across the kitchen and back again.
"Evan…"
"Shut up. If you keep making decisions for me, I'm gonna - I'm gonna start throwing loaves at your head."
Tommy makes a noise that's half laugh, half sob, and Buck fights back the tiny grin that's tugging at his mouth.
"You - you really think you're this irredeemable asshole that doesn't deserve to be happy, don't you?"
Tommy shrugs, looks away. "If the shoe fits…"
Buck whirls around, yanks open the fridge, grabs the first loaf he sees. "This is coffee and walnut. It's dense. Last warning, jackass."
Tommy's laugh is more distinct this time. "Evan. Okay. Yes, I think that. But I'm - I'm working on not."
"Okay. Okay. So - so work on it." He puts the loaf down. "Work on it, and take me on a date."
Tommy looks like he's being rebooted without warning. "You can't be serious."
"Why not?"
"I - "
"Tell me why I can't be serious."
"Because! Because I'm - I'm a mess. I hurt you. I left."
"You came back," Buck counters. "Even if it was only to apologize."
"You deserve better."
"I want you."
"I don't - I don't know when I'll be - better than I am."
"You're better today than the day you left. You're here."
"Evan…"
"Yes or no, Tommy. Take me on a date."
"I - "
"Yes or no."
"Yes. Please, yes."
Buck exhales for what feels like the first time in weeks. "Okay. Okay. That's a start."
He puts the loaf back in the fridge, takes Tommy's coffee away to reheat it, and the whole time he can feel Tommy's eyes on him, watching him like he's something precious.
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dcxdpdabbles · 15 days ago
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I am feral for fake dating au and alley boyfriends goes so hard, I am on my hands and knees begging for a part 3
Tim's afternoon meeting gets canceled due to three of the members coming down with the flu. Usually, he would have just sent them a recording of what they missed, but since the three were presenting and the meeting was meant to be with the five department heads, he feels it would be best to reschedule.
There was only so much HR could report to him, after all. This meant he had the entire afternoon off.
Tim usually uses the free time he finds himself with to get a head start on other work. Maybe even some crake some cases. But today, he knew Danny was off from his job. His roommate was likely at home watching that new show he really got into.
Last night, he explained the entire plot over their dinner- Danny came from one of those families that always ate dinner at the same time- and went as far as to reveal fun facts he learned about the production team in charge of his show.
Tim didn't understand why Danny was so excited to know the lighting effects used only for a particular character. Nor did he find it as fascinating.
However, watching him get excitable was endearing enough that he listened to the whole thing. Then, he sat down to watch the show, finding it adorable that Danny couldn't stop speaking to the screen as if the characters could hear him.
Tim stares at his computer screen, trying his best to get himself to focus. The data sheets needed some work, but he had two weeks to complete it, and he really wasn't in the mood to verify so much work if he wasn't completely focused.
He glances at the clock, watching the little red hand tick. He insisted on having a face clock in his office instead of just having an electrical one because he found the ticking sound comforting.
Now, it merely annoyed him. That only happens when he's been trapped inside the office for too long or gone out as Red Robin so much he neglected his Tim Drake side. He could take the afternoon off, but what fun would that be?
He had also been trapped at home for a long time, working remotely whenever he could. Tim wanted to go out, but he didn't want to do that alone.
It would be so dull to just go to the same places on his lonesome as it would be sitting in his office or in his room. He could play video games or watch a movie with his roommate, but it wasn't the same of getting outside for a little while
His eyes landed on his cell phone. He could call Danny and ask if he wanted to go out today, but he had no idea what to do. He could take Danny shopping again- apparently, his roommate had no actual use for suits at his barista job, so the two had gone to the mall and gotten him some jeans and t-shirts, but the other seemed tired of that the last time.
Tim didn't want to spend money at the movies either because he wanted to do something active. The problem was that Danny hated spots with a passion and wasn't one for hiking or walking. They could go to a place to eat, but going out just for food wasn't something they could fill a whole afternoon with, not to mention Gotham's cold wave had most of the hang-out places closed until summer.
How hard was it to think of something to do in a city this big?
His eyes shift over to his computer before he caves. He quickly changes the docking station on his work computer to his personal laptop, eyes dancing between his two monitors.
He types into the search engine Where to take your roommate in Gotham City.. The first result is a list of locations, but Tim finds that they are all well-known tourist places, which is something he would rather avoid. He's just not up for a big crowd.
The following result is restaurants to try, which again isn't enough to fill the entire afternoon with- he notes to visit the ramen place because Danny mentioned he wanted to have some three days ago. He grows irritated with the similar lists he clicks until he stumbles across a new store that opened only a week ago.
It's new enough that most people don't know about it, which means they could enjoy a fun new activity since it is a random Tuesday.
Tim checks the store times, confirms that they could be there for a few hours and then reaches for his phone. Three taps later, a dull ringing sounds in his ear as he waits for Danny to answer.
Initially, he didn't want to go shopping, but he thought Danny would enjoy this shop more than any clothes store.
"Yellow?" Danny chirps in his ear, warm and bright. His voice reminds him of the comfortable nights when he's brewing Tim a lovely London Fog Late.
At once, Tim feels himself relaxed. "Hey, Danny. I have the afternoon off. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"
"Oh, sure! What do you want to do?"
Tim looks up at the screen. "How would you like to go to a place that lets you design your own succulent and offers an entire room filled with decorations to personalize it?
"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes!" Danny shouts the sound of crashes accompanying his voice as he likely leaps from the couch. "How expensive is it?"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll pay for everything." Tim tells Danny just as Tam and three interns wander into his office. He holds up a finger at them, listening to Danny loudly proclaim he wants to be the one to treat Tim.
It's sweet, but Tim had so much money he didn't know what to do. Danny was saving up to buy his own car- and the last time Tim offered to buy him one, his roommate had refused to make him the Red Robin Rush for a week.
"Don't worry about money, Danny. Just get dressed, and tonight, you can make it up to me the usual way." He says, feeling a slow, smug smile spread across his face as Danny rushes to the coffee station to check through the tea they had.
"I'll do something even better. It's a new trick I picked up, but it's guaranteed to keep you up all night." Danny tells him as he fumbles with his clothes- likely changing- which is loud enough to echo from his phone speakers. An intern shifts, uncomfortable on his feet.
Tam raises an impressed eyebrow, which, for some reason, makes Tim slightly embarrassed. His face turns a bit red as he hastily tells his roommate. "I should be picking you up in an hour."
"Wait, what do I wear for this? I will not repeat O'malley's."
Tim's face turns redder at the reminder of last week's blunder. It wasn't his fault that what he considered casual clothes were what Danny thought were formal. He told the man to meet him at the restaurant after work, not considering it upscale since it was only served dinner, and once again, Danny's outfit had him stopped at the door by a worker who didn't think he was dressed the part.
"Just wear that outfit I like. The blue one." He tells him about the black sweatshirt with blue stripes and a fluffy black and blue sweater. It was the warmest, most stylish thing Danny women meant for streetwear, and he knew it would be a bit chilly in the evening.
"Alright. See you soon. Text me when you are outside. Byeeeee"
"Bye," Tim hangs up and offers the three interns and impressed secretary a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"
Tam steps forward, waving a hand at the two young men and single women older than him by a few years. They straighten up as his PA speaks. "I just wanted to introduce the interns that start tomorrow; it won't take more than five minutes if you have to be somewhere soon."
"It's lovely to meet you all. " Tim smiles, ignoring the wide-eyed stare the one on the left is giving him. The introductions don't take long at all, but Tim still feels restless when he grabs his coat and rushes past Tam's empty desk. He leaves a note on her desk telling her he took the afternoon off and practically skips down to the parking garage.
He is unaware of the rumors circulating among his employees after a particular intern on the left let it slip he overheard Mr. Drake talking to his lover like their relationship was....like that. He is even more unaware that the second he picks up Danny from the front of their building, five shadows break into his penthouse and search the place for any drugs.
He is too busy picking out crystals with his roommate, who babbles about their effects on ghosts, memorized by his silly random knowledge again.
Meanwhile, Bruce is horrified to find some green liquid in the second bedroom. He's not sure why Tim or Danny have to separate rooms if they truly are lovers, but the fact this was hidden in the room by the other boy gives Jason's idea of Tim living with his dealer aan uncomfortable amount of credit.
He returned a sample to the Cave when his other children reported nothing. They refrained from planting any bugs just because Tim would find them, and it would stop him from trusting them should they have to give him a proper introduction.
Upon conducting some tests, despite the similar appearance to the Lazarus pits, results showed it's closer to the formula of Mr. Freeze's ice ray but in liquid form.
Why would Fenton hide this? What was he up to? Did Tim know that Fenton had cut an entire part of the wall to hide jars and jars of this goo?
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moonlitsnail · 2 years ago
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tonight was supposed to be relaxing but it just fucking sucked
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checkeredflagggs · 4 months ago
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Glazed and Confused
Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader
Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel
a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️
a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)
a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could
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Pottery Made Easy has posted
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potterymadeeasy
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liked by user1, user2, and 2316 others
pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!
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user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄😬)
user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…
user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄
user2: unfortunately
user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?
potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2
user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece
potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!
user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!
user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…
potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!
user3: faints bless you
user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you
user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris
user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris
user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris
user9: would hate to be his cleaner…
lnupdates
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liked by user5, user6, user7, and 1,897,455 others
lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch
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user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another
user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words
user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos
user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them
user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!
user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵
user7: oh my god right?!?
user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?
user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh
user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!
user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end
Bluesky
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Private DMs
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,790,469 others
landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go
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user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!
user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now
user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl
user14: and an “artistic” vase!
oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time
landonorris: mate…
oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough
landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments
charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there
landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present
charles_leclerc: 👎🏻
alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂
landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?
user15: yes
user16: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻
georgerussell63: yes
alex_albon: yes!!
maxverstappen1: yes
danielricciardo: yes!
carlossainz55: yes!
landonorris: you freaking muppets!
user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?
user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?
user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?
user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?
landonorris
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landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it
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user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!
user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING
user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz
potterymadeeasy: those look great!
landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉
user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?
user22: thoughts are being thunk
user23: unthunk those thoughts right now
user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn
user23: nurse she’s out again!
user21: really? Under my comment thread?
user24: I’ve connected the dots.
user25: you’ve connected shit
user24: no I’ve connected them
user25: god get a life
charles_leclerc: congrats!
carlossainz55: it only took a few months…
alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels
georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies
landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car
mclaren: legally this is a joke
landonorris
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landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills
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user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE
user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces
user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring
user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key
oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too
landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually
oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks
landonorris: 🙃
oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way
landonorris: thanks mate!
oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up
landonorris: you muppet!
danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?
landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?
danielricciardo: in encouragement?
landonorris: 😑
danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?
landonorris: fine 🙄
user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!
landonorris: 😂🧡😉
user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?
landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user29: SIR!
maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?
landonorris: not actually for you!
maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏
landonorris: …who are you and where is max?
maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special
landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡
maxverstappen1: 💔
potterymadeeasy: those look good!
landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡
potterymadeeasy: flatterer
landonorris: always 😉
User22: !!!
User23: shut up shut up shut up
landonorris
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landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!
listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.
Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!
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user30: I’m? Crying? 😭
user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…
user32: we’re excited for you too!
user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?
user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page
used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕
oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible
landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support
oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work
user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces
alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!
landonorris: thanks i think
alex_albon: no problem!
alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good
landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew
alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?
landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures
alex_albon: on it 🫡
landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person
albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors
user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?
user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?
landonorris: 🫢🤫
user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS
landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨
yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.
landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you
yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own
landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.
yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹
landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡
yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun
maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next
landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅
maxverstappen1: you know it!
landonorris
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landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!
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potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!
landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris: love ya!
potterymadeeasy:…love you too!
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comradeocean · 3 months ago
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"I have found myself talking out loud to you, hoping you can hear me" is a bonkers way for a celebrity to begin a public memorial statement less than 24 hrs after the death happened by someone who has possibly not personally spoken to the dead person in question for almost ten years. I cannot stop thinking about it.
In 2013, Channel 4 did a documentary called Crazy About One Direction that featured a number of high octane waaaay out there fans. I think the band was asked about it during an interview; Louis and the others basically disavowed it, saying it was an unfair representation of girls who like One Direction and the fanbase in general. He wasn't being totally selfless in sticking up for the fans, because some of those girls were profoundly sad and lonely, maybe unwell. And if your mission is to be marketed as a fun-loving carefree boyband, the last thing you'd want to be associated with are young, maladjusted, friendless girls.
Anyway, at one point, one of the girls interviewed says:
Twitter is like a prayer place. When you go to a prayer place, you feel like you’re connected to God. So when you’re on twitter, you feel like you’re connected to 1D. You just have hope. [audio description alt-text: an image of Louis as Jesus Christ]
Zayn is also the only one of the boys to have crossposted his message to twitter.
The thing about One Direction being an accident, sure, a manufactured accident, but an accident nonetheless, is that they were guileless going in, and it showed. I've been mainlining old videos this week, trying to compare those early xfactor days with their contemporaries who were trying to break out around the same time. With everyone else, it was always a band full of Liams: intensely driven little freaks. Sorry, freak is maybe too mean a word to describe that particular mix of hunger and desperation to be accomplished, to be famous, and at the bottom of it all: to be liked. There's been a conscious shaping of the persona in service of those goals: they've learned to dance, to perform, to give pitches, soundbites, hit camera marks on cue. Most of them were also older, in their early to mid twenties. It's not inconceivable to imagine such a trajectory for the most diehard theatre kid you knew from school who decided after uni or whatever ~ to follow their dreams ~. That was the more typical boyband background. (not Liam though. lad was fourteen. he was closer to another subspecies of the genus: the child star)
And 1D in contrast were unpracticed, unstudied, as Zayn put it in that slightly off-kilter way of his (which I always imagine to be indicative of a disjunction between the vocabulary one encounters in school and what everyone around them is used to speaking), "novice children."
Like, truly, they did not give a fuck cos it hadn't yet occurred to them they were supposed to. Liam aside, industry norms were a complete mystery to them, and for many years, they managed to inhabit that sweet spot of flippancy without contempt, whether it was about the project, themselves, or their audience. Liam tells the story about being the go-between for xfactor stylists and the boys and getting into so much trouble on their behalf for wearing human-sized babygrows during a video diary. "Because Westlife would never wear those." [The punchline he then delivers is that Westlife members were pictured wearing onesies soon after. (quite possibly due to how viral anything 1D-related got)]
The boys were so immature. The whole boyband thing had fallen into their laps. They were just happy to be there! This thing that they didn't even know they wanted, they somehow got, and it took the shape of four other boys in exactly the same situation. It comes across very strongly how taken they were with themselves and each other. Find yourself a guy who looks at you the way blah Larry Stylinson blah blah Ziam blah blah blah. Never mind that cos they were all actually so hyped with each other. Any time any of them says anything remotely clever, or funny, or notable, the rest of them lose their shit like they're in on the same hilarious joke. Even if there was no actual joke. Their entire existence at that point was the joke bc how on earth had they landed from where they'd been — small deadend towns hollowing out from deindustrialization — to where they ended up — the xfactor house headed for the very top about to win it all, in the way they did — saved from bootcamp elimination at the last minute, with who they did — four other working class boys they would have never been friends with in another life. It must have been a high like a kind of limerence, like finding long lost family members on the exact same wavelength, like love.
And that was the other key thing about the stratospheric rise of One Direction. We didn't love One Direction only because we loved this or that member. We loved them because they loved each other, because they loved themselves, because they loved us. And they used the internet to show it.
In 2010, mass social media platforms were in their nascence, which is to say, the exploration of how to be a person, with other people, online, at a broad level not limited to specific subcultures, was in its nascence. For many years now, given the levels of extreme over-exposure, the dominant mood has become the mortifying ordeal of being perceived and so on. We've somehow all adopted mini-celebrity mindsets of our own, weary of being exposed to the maw of an unseen public. To be known is to be surveilled.
But the boys individually and at the collective level invited surveillance back then. Because the inverse — to be surveilled is to be known — seemed more relevant for that moment, at the beginning. They made a point of living their newfound lives at least partially online.
They were constantly on twitter, they livestreamed with a dedication that rivaled x-factor video producers, and none more so than Liam. It was already reality tv, this was just the next bleeding edge of "real": the unfiltered, unedited, direct sharing of yourself and what you loved in the last days of the old free-as-in-freedom internet.
When they said, over and over again, that it was all about the fans, it was meant in a very literal sense. Social media and the reality it created produced a feedback loop between the love they had for each other and the band, and the love we had for them, until it was inseparable: their relationships, our relationships, the process itself. Parasociality as it is currently manifested might have found its first mass expression through One Direction.
In separate interviews from This is Us (2013) deleted scenes, Liam and Louis say that Zayn wears his heart on his sleeve. Yet within the best-friends-slash-brothers-for-life schema cultivated as the One Direction vibe, he did not seem necessarily exceptional in his frequent declarations of love and fellow-feeling for various band mates. What he did ultimately end up doing was pulling the trigger on the contractual form their relationships were bound within, such that the I-love-you's inevitably passed from unpracticed to rote to a mandatory matter of their livelihoods. Someone had to be the first to explicitly and consciously decide that this "love" was no longer something they could continue participating in.
From the same set of deleted interview, in a somewhat fitting twist of symmetry, Louis and Zayn go on and on (much longer than Niall or Harry) about how Liam had been the serious and sensible one, but they've managed to corrupt him a little. It makes sense to assume that Zayn is referring to the band in general, but one can also read it to mean the two of them specifically, being the eldest, and their meta-cognition of the terms and conditions imposed by One Direction as a phenomenon.
The love the members of One Direction had for each other and the band and the fans was undeniably "real." The making of that "realness" was conditioned by the x factor throwing together four boys who had very little reference for what the fuck they had gotten themselves into, and Liam. Liam was the intermediary. He was already a creature twisted up and contorting, trying his level best to wedge himself into whatever spaces there could be found in the juggernaut of the entertainment industry. His neuroses and anxieties made the rest of One Direction possible, made One Direction "real" and "not like the other boybands" because that DNA, that what-not-to-do instruction manual could just be crammed into him, and the rest of them could be let loose into the world, unburdened by expectation, free to not give a fuck.
Louis and Zayn's raw, unpolished, typo-ridden letters were the most direct and irrefutable way they knew to swear fidelity to the boy they knew, the band they built, and the lives they lived together. The unfathomable ether of the internet, of the fans, of the massed publics seen and unseen made them, it destroyed their senses of self in ways they could weather until they couldn't, and it's into this ether they send their words, their grief, something real of themselves. Because in the universe of One Direction, this is the orthopraxis by which one proclaims one's faith and one's hopes. This is the prayer place that transcends distance, time, even death. This is how their brother could somehow, some way, still feel their love.
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splatteringyandere · 1 month ago
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Days of the Week as Yanderes
Monday is your cold coworker. He hardly ever talks to you outside of dumping work on your desk. Honestly, you think he has some sort of problem with you. He certainly doesn’t treat any of your other coworkers this way. Demanding and unfriendly, like he owns you. It doesn’t matter if you complain to HR, he’s such a model employee they couldn’t afford to let him go.
“Y/N, I have another stack of paperwork for you. I know it’s late, but these have to be done tonight. You have plans? Well, I guess you’ll have to cancel them.”
Tuesday is your best friend. You grew up next door to each other, playing and wrestling in the yard until your mothers called you home for the night. As you both grew older, his obsession with you grew as well. However, when you’re an adult, life isn’t as simple as “having one best friend” and you having more friends means him having more competition.
“Y/N, are you free tonight? You don’t usually have anything going on this day of the week. You should come over to my place! We can watch a movie. You pick.”
Wednesday is a creep. Somehow, he’s always there. It doesn’t matter where you go, the grocery store, work, your friend’s house, somehow you’ll always bump into him. You suspect he’s taking photos of you, but you have absolutely no proof. You try to be more careful, not go out at night or be alone, just in case. It doesn’t matter though, eventually you’ll end up in his basement anyway.
“Camera? What camera? I was just taking a walk, just like you. If I did have one though, I bet you would make a great model.”
Thursday is your quiet classmate. You don’t even know she exists, really. The kind of girl that blends into the background. You think you gave her a pen once, maybe? Nothing that really sticks out in your head. It makes it all the more confusing when you start receiving threatening notes. Who on earth would send these? You certainly couldn’t remember doing anything in particular to deserve them.
“Thank you for the tissue, I really really appreciate it. Am I new? I’ve been in your class since we were kids…”
Friday is a playboy. He’s the kind of guy that spots you across the bar and makes his move. Your immediate disinterest shatters his massive ego, sending his head into a whirl. He always gets what he wants, how could this have happened? It’s not long until he’s trying to win your affection every night, buying you drinks and hitting you with his funniest jokes. There’s nothing he wants more than what he can’t have. If all his charm still doesn’t work, well, maybe it’s time he takes what he wants.
“Funny running into you here again, haha. Can I buy you a drink to make up for last time? I promise, no games this time, but only if you promise not to throw it in my face again.”
Saturday is your boyfriend. He’s the full package, strong, kind, intelligent. Sure, he’s a little possessive, but that’s normal, right? After all, he’s the basically the perfect man, showering you in gifts at every opportunity and leaping to do things for you. Before you know it, you’ll depend on him for almost everything. Exactly how he wanted it.
“I think you should quit your job, Y/N, all it does is cause you stress. It’s such a long commute, I hate waiting for you to come home. Plus, I make plenty enough money. Let me take care of you!”
Sunday is your neighbor. You smile warmly at each other in passing, sometimes he even shovels your driveway for you after a heavy snow or takes in your garbage can so you don’t have to walk it all the way up the driveway. In exchange, you’ll make him cookies or gift him vegetables from your garden, which he always appreciates. When he sets up his new security cameras, you can’t help but notice how a few of them are angled directly at your windows.
“Hey, Y/N! I picked up your mail for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I threw out all the junk. Oh, some hot chocolate as thanks? Well, I couldn’t say no to that.”
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filthyslashertoad · 28 days ago
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Spending the Holidays with Slashers & Misc.
(I was having trouble posting this so it's a bit late. I also might make a pt.2 if I can think of more things)
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Michael Myers
Doesn't acknowledge it as a real holiday.
Get's pissy because everyone leaves home to go on vacation and there's no one to kill.
As soon as one kid mistakes him for a pale Santa he just heads home and calls it a night.
Billy Loomis
Spends the night before Christmas stressing out trying to figure out how to wrap a present(So does Stu by affiliation)
When you come downstairs in the morning you can tell which present is yours because there's a copious layer of tape around each box.
Stu also abought you a basketball so don't even ask how he wrapped that.
Hannibal Lecter
As soon as it hits December 1st, the house is decorated head to toe in Christmas decorations.
Best believe there will be Rum cake and a lot of it because he started making it in January.
Doesn't do ugly sweaters.
Has never watched the Grinch and doesn't plan to.
Bo Sinclair
Wraps a bow around his beer and calls it a day. (Just kidding)
Spends all of Christmas day baking a ham that he's been dreaming about since February. (Even though he bought the ingredients last second)
Doesn't know what to get you for Christmas so while he's at the store doing last-second shopping he buys you your favorite drink and a card with a duck dressed as Santa on it.
Brahms Heelshire
Wakes you up in the morning with a very special breakfast. (It's a pb&j with a glass of milk except there wasn't enough milk so it's half water and half milk)
Still thinks that Santa is real.
Patrick Bateman
Forces you to wear matching pajamas and do a photo shoot with him to send out to everyone because "you're such a loving couple!"(Forgets to book a photographer and ends up having to get it done in a Kohls)
For Christmas he buys you a set of your very own business cards that say "Patrick Bateman's wife, Y/N" on them and a bottle sugar-free champagne. (He's so proud of himself for this gift btw)
Lady Dimitrescu
She's a girl mom to the max, meaning everyone is getting presents in perfectly wrapped paper with a cute note in cursive saying how much she loves you.
100% would sit back with a glass of wine while watching everyone open their presents.
Heisenberg
He makes a tree out of metal scraps and wakes you up by shouting, "Hey! Watch this!" as he electrocutes the entire tree, causing the very wooden ground underneath it to catch on fire.
Claims that the Lycans still believe in Santa.
Has them dress up in elf suits and has them run around the entire village harassing Miranda and the rest of his siblings.
Carlos Oliveira
Buys 400$ worth of Chinese food and calls in sick for the next week because of it.
He's the type of person who would send a video of himself singing "It's Timeee~" to the entire group chat at 12am on Christmas Day.
Sends out a calendar for the New Year to the ENTIRE company except every month is a different photo of him. (HR has gotten involved but they have yet to stop him)
Leon Kennedy
Says that he doesn't like Christmas and that it's his least favorite holiday. (Liar)
Tries spiked eggnog and sugar cookies for the first time and then it all changes.
Shows up to the station wearing a new ugly Christmas sweater each day(Somehow he gets Carlos and Chris in on it too).
Brings candy canes with him when he goes out on patrol to hand out to kids.
Hellboy
Spends his holiday rewatching the original Grinch and going shopping in World Market. (I feel like he'd love Marzipan and Fruit Cake)
Every Christmas he always buys everyone in the Bureau (besides Myers) their favorite bar of chocolate and hands them out at the annual Christmas party.
He's also made it a thing where he dresses up as Santa and goes to the Psych ward to visit the patients(and sometimes Liz).
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