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devil-in-the-d3tails · 4 years

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It’s the End of the World as We Know It - Chapter 1

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 4,452

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing

a/n: hello, hello! this is my first fic for haikyuu (originally posted on AO3), and i wanted to post it on tumblr as well just for shits n gigs. please enjoy!

- Beginning of the End -

It was a Thursday the day everyone disappeared.

The world was quiet outside, but it was loud in your phone, on account of the international quarantine. Everyone was tweeting, making dumb videos, playing video games. You would sit in your room for hours on end, scrolling through your phone as you mourned the loss of your senior year of high school. No prom, no graduation, no more arts and crafts club. It was bad enough that your closest friend group had been disbanded before your senior year even started-- it was just bad luck, but they all left to live in different states while you were left alone in suburbia.

You stayed home with your mom while your dad went to work-- he was considered an essential worker, as he worked in the grocery store. Your mom was much more active than you, constantly cleaning or cooking or going for a walk. It was admirable, but it irritated you how she would always try and get you to interact with her activities. She did it because she was probably worried about you, and she was probably lonely. You were lonely, too-- your friends lived miles away in the vast expanse of the suburbs, and your home was tucked into the fringes of soccer mom society. Your backyard was larger than most, and it was perfect for when you would host kickbacks with your friends. Recently, however, you had no reason to use the large space.

On Thursday, you decided to put down your phone for a while and play fetch with your dog. She was the biggest and fluffiest best friend you’d ever had, a german shepherd named Indie, short for Indiana, as in the archaeologist. You thought the name was fitting, because she could find almost anything with her nose-- you and your mom had trained her to do that a few summers ago.

Your mom had gone on a walk before you decided to play fetch with the dog. You had left your phone on the kitchen table. It wasn’t until the sun began to set and you felt your arm begin to ache when you noticed that she’d been gone for a while.

You gave Indie her stick, though she sniffed and whined at you stressfully. You frowned, and let her inside as you checked your phone. A few notifications from your friends’ group chat:

4:47pm

Kimi: Anybody else’s power go out?

Callie: omg i thought it was just Ohio!

Kimi: Nah, we got it in Connecticut, too.

Emily: New York, too!

They were asking if you had experienced the same thing.

6:48pm

Me: i didnt notice, i was playing with indie. wbu, sami?

Sami had moved to L.A., about two hours from your home, so you guys were able to hang out most weekends if you took the train or if she drove out to you. She didn’t even read the chat.

6:48pm

Me: bitch i know ur in quarantine smh read my message

[Kimi, Callie, and Emily liked your message!]

You dialed your mom’s number as you went to turn on the T.V., only to be met with static. You frowned, and surfed a few channels only to be met with more static before you turned it off. Her voicemail blared through your phone speakers, and that was when you started to worry.

You hung up, called your dad.

“Hey, honey!” He answered-- he must’ve been on break.

“Dad, did the power go out?”

“Yeah, for a couple minutes there. Did it happen at home, too?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off. Indie licked your hand, and whined some more. “Hey, mom’s not answering her phone and she’s been on a walk for a while. Like, three hours.”

“Huh.” Your dad let out a contemplative sigh. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Maybe she’s talking with the neighbors and her phone died.”

“Maybe.”

But maybe not. You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, and Indie could sense it as you sat on the couch. She slowly tried to inch her way into your lap, as she never really had a good idea of her own large size. You just let her and scratched her ear.

“Listen, honey, I gotta go. But we can make mac-n-cheese for dinner, how’s that sound?”

“Good, dad.” You said, biting your lip. “Okay, see you when you get home.”

Then, you hung up, and you waited for your mom.

[-]

When your dad got home, you went out to search for your mom. On your tour of the neighborhood, you came across others who had broken quarantine and were searching for their loved ones, too. Saying they went for a walk, or to the store and they didn’t come back.

Your dad remained the voice of reason, saying things like well maybe their phone died, or this is all just some big prank we’ll all laugh about later. You stayed silent.

[-]

Saturday was when your dad didn’t come home. His car was nowhere to be found, but you didn’t trust yourself to drive your mom’s car just yet. Or rather, you didn’t want to drive it because you didn’t want to be reminded that it was permanently vacant. You walked all the way to the store an hour after he was supposed to have gotten off. Manager Dan wasn’t there, either-- nobody had seen your dad at all that day; he was a no-call, no-show.

You walked all the way back home.

9:52pm

Me: my dad’s gone now too

10:05pm

Callie: fuck.

Callie: my sister…

10:06pm

Kimi: I still haven’t heard from Sami.

Emily: Yeah, me neither.

10:15pm

Me: we should check in every day with each other

[Callie and Emily liked your message!]

10:32

Me: Kimi?

[-]

It’s Thursday again.

Emily has stopped answering by now, and the frantic search parties that used to pass by your window every now and again have stopped, too. Even Twitter is quiet-- it seems with every passing day, more and more people go silent. As you lay on your bed with Indie at your feet, you keep refreshing your feed on every social media app, but nothing changes-- all of the posts are old. It feels like your world is shrinking while at the same time expanding into a terrifying void.

5:38pm

Me: callie?

Callie: im here.

You breathe a sigh of relief, which turns into a sob into your pillow.

5:39pm

Me: idk how long we’ll have wifi or even electricity.

Callie: my parents are still here. Come to ohio, seriously.

You bite your lip. You think about Sami, and how many times she pried the truth out of you when you were sad, how she was the only one who would sing with you at karaoke, how you promised to move to New York together.

5:39pm

Me: i have to find sami.

Callie: please just come here. We need to stick together.

Me: i’ll find sami and we’ll come to ohio. Then we go to NY to look for em and kimi.

5:45pm

Callie: okay. Please text.

Me: i will. I promise i’ll come to ohio.

You bite your lip, and glance at your phone’s percentage: 43%. You sigh, and put it on the charger while you go downstairs to scrounge for breakfast. You only woke up about two hours ago, though you can’t sleep much, anyways. You think to yourself how your mom would be scolding you for waking up so late.

As you eat the last poptart, Indie lays down on your feet. You toss her a couple crumbs, she eats them gratefully. You sigh, and look at your now empty pantry-- you have to try and go to the grocery store, whether you like it or not. You only have your permit, but you know that you’re a terrible driver. Still, you get up and put on shoes and grab your jacket. You probably don’t have to worry about cops or the law anymore, anyway-- you suspect everything has disappeared.

You look at yourself in the mirror; you didn’t think your outfit for the apocalypse would be sweatpants and a hoodie. With a sigh, you change into jeans and a long sleeve, layer a flannel on top of that, and your favorite jacket on top of that. It’s cold outside-- much colder than you’re used to.

Based on the incredible silence on Facebook, you figure that most of the adults have disappeared. As you drive further and further into town, you notice some obvious signs of looting from once pristine houses: trash littering lawns, doors left wide open. You get the haunting realization that you’re perhaps the only person left in your neighborhood. It’s amazing how quickly things can turn in just a few days.

When you pull up to the grocery store, you notice there’s only one other car there-- a white van, stationed by the curb and still running. You actually pull into a parking spot like some kind of society bootlicker, and cautiously put the car in park and turn off the engine.

You watch the van for a moment, slowly becoming hyper-aware of the very real possibility that you might run into robbers. Your stomach growls, and you take a deep breath. You should’ve brought Indie.

Grocery bags in hand, you exit your soccer mom minivan and lock it. Steeling your nerves, you put one foot in front of the other. As if on cue, two figures hurry out of the store, glancing behind them before they notice you. The automatic doors have long since stopped running, so they just pause in the doorway while you freeze on the curb, the fumes from the van tickling your nose.

They’re both boys holding bags you assume to be filled with groceries: both around your age, one of them has gray and black spiked hair, and eyes as wide and aware as an owl’s. The one next to him has dark, short, almost curly hair, and his gaze is calculating and cold.

You take a small step back, unsure of what to say. They seem just as apprehensive, when the van door slides open forcefully.

“Hey, what are you doing? Get in!” Another boy, this one of a larger build than the two in front of you with jet black spiked hair, snaps angrily.

“Kuroo, we have a situation.” The curly-haired boy says evenly, though he’s tense. His knuckles are white holding his bags.

“Huh?” The one who must be Kuroo says, and cranes his neck to the side to spot you. “Oh, shit.”

“U-um…” You stutter out, and you suddenly feel extremely cornered-- it’s three against one, and what if they want to take your car? What if they have some kind of weird cult and need a girl for breeding? “I’m just gonna get some-- some poptarts and leave.”

“Holy shit!!” The gray haired one seems to have broken out of his stupor, and he rushes over to you, dropping his bags and their contents on the ground in order to grab your shoulders. “Another person! A-a girl!”

“Yes, she’s a girl…” The curly-haired one sighs, puts his bags in the van and begins to gather up the other one’s forgotten groceries.

“First one I’ve seen in a while.” Kuroo grins and hops from the car to stand beside the gray-haired one who still hasn’t let go of you. You don’t have the balls to tell him to get off-- you’re not sure how dangerous these boys are. “How long have you been hiding out?”

“Come with us! We’re at the high school.” The gray-haired one beams-- how could he possibly be smiling?

You don’t know what to say, so you look away. Your voice seems to be caught in your throat, and that’s extremely frustrating-- but you’re not about to cry in front of these guys.

“Quit it, Bokuto.” The curly-haired one is eyeing you carefully, though not as if you’re a threat. He seems to be the only one that can actually sense your discomfort. The one that’s holding you-- Bokuto-- sighs, and lets you go, instead putting his hands on his hips.

“We should at least help her.” He points out, and grins down at you. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“She’s not gonna tell you. Let’s just go home.” Kuroo shrugs, and you cross your arms.

You tell them your name, if only to spite the taller one. He turns with a grin, and it only just occurs to you that perhaps, that was reverse-psychology. You huff, and look away with a little bit of a blush.

“Like I said, I just need to get poptarts and some other things and then I’m going back home.” You mutter.

“We’re wasting gas.” The curly-haired one calls, as he has already sat in the front seat.

“Hold on, Akaashi!” Bokuto calls. “Listen, there aren’t anymore poptarts in there. None whatsoever.”

Your heart breaks a little, but you keep it together.

“There’s, like, rice and stuff, but I think that’s it.” He shrugs, and turns to get into the van. You bite your lip-- might as well ask rather than waste your time wandering around all alone.

“Is there any dog food left?”

“Huh? Dog food?” Bokuto is right back in front of you. He and Kuroo speak at the same time:

“You’re gonna eat dog food?” Bokuto says. “You have a dog?” Kuroo says, and the two boys glare at each other.

“Yeah…” You say, though you still haven’t gotten an answer to your question. “I mean, I have a dog.”

“Yeah, it’s in aisle five.” You hear the one called Akaashi tell you, without even bothering to turn to look at you.

“I know that.” You snap-- your dad used to work in this store, you know it pretty damn well. Akaashi glances back at you then, probably a little surprised by your defensive tone. You huff, annoyed at yourself for being so touchy. These were the first people you met after about three straight weeks in quarantine, and they might be the only people left for miles. You need to play nice.

“My dad works here.” You explain, looking down at your shoes. Kuroo nods, exchanges a glance with Bokuto. “Well, he used to.”

A silence falls over the group-- they know. You all know, now, what it’s like to lose a parent, or any loved one, for that matter. You blink quickly to fight back any tears that might threaten to escape.

“We’re staying at Karasuno High-- it’s the high school near Flat Top.” Kuroo says. “If you want to join us, we’re kind of setting up camp there.”

“There’s more of us!” Bokuto explains. “We’re gonna find some mattresses after this to bring ‘em back so we can all stick together.”

“Oh, cool.” You say half-heartedly, unsure of why exactly they’re inviting you over as if it’s some kind of fun sleepover. “Wait, you guys went to Karasuno?”

“Yeah! You, too?” Bokuto lights up, and you look at the three boys a little closer, though you don’t seem to recognize them.

“Yeah… but I don’t think we were in the same circles.” You finally smile a little, albeit sadly, now that you’re remembering all the things you’ll never be able to return to now that school and society are essentially gone.

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Kuroo asks, obviously encouraged by your smile. You shake your head.

Akaashi has exited the van by now with a sigh, coming to stand beside his two friends as he takes a look around. “We need to get going. If you want to join us, you know where to find us. But it’s gonna be dark soon.”

That seems to smack some sense into the other two, and they exchange glances with one another. Kuroo nods, Bokuto sighs, and the two get back into the van. Akaashi pauses, and you accidentally lock eyes with him.

His gaze betrays nothing, and you wonder for a moment how he ever became friends with these two. He reaches into the van, and pulls out a familiar blue cardboard box, gives it to you.

You take the poptarts, and glance up at him questioningly-- he puts a finger to his lips with just the hint of a smile. You smile back.

“Listen, it’s great you have a dog-- keep him close. And get home before it gets dark. And…” He glances to the side uneasily. “Get a baseball bat or something.”

A chill goes up your spine at that last part, and you frown, but nod to the boy in front of you anyways. He returns the nod, and gets in the back of the van. You both share a glance at each other one more time, and it feels as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. He just slides the door closed, and Bokuto waves to you out the window.

“Byee! Hopefully we’ll see you later-- hey, where’d you get those poptarts?!” Bokuto’s voice fades away as the van drives off, and you are once again left alone.

[-]

You gather a fair amount of stuff-- rope, for some reason is included in your loot. You always saw people in the movies get rope, so you figure you’ll find some use for it.

There aren’t any baseball bats, but you do find a hammer and a paring knife. It’s small, but better than nothing. You load up on the dog food, and even manage to haul two huge bags of kibble into your car. As you load it up, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. Even though you look around and make certain that you’re the only person present, the feeling doesn’t go away. You sort of wish you’d gone with those boys now.

You aren’t surprised when the street lights don’t turn on, but you take that as your signal to leave. Even though you want to scrounge for more supplies, you don’t want to risk it. Akaashi’s words of warning hang over your head like a humid fog.

As you drive home, you can’t stop chewing on your lip. Even with your headlights on, it’s hard to see, but you don’t want to turn on your brights and draw more attention to yourself. Just get home, lock the doors, and check in with Callie.

You park the car in your backyard because the garage door won’t open-- the power’s finally gone out. You close the backyard gate and lock it as soon as you’re out of the car, but somehow you still feel uneasy.

As you enter your dark home, you softly call out Indie’s name, and you hear her scamper up to you.

“Good girl,” You whisper, and scratch her ear. You decide to leave the larger groceries in the car for now, as you don’t want to go back outside and keep making trips of transferring the supplies into your house. For now, you need to sleep so that you can ignore the hunger in your belly and stretch out your rations just a little further.

Indie guides you up the stairs and into your bedroom as you set your bag down heavily. You come across your phone with dismay, finding that it hasn’t charged at all since you left, and is now at 7%. You bite your lip, and open up the almost abandoned group chat.

9:57pm

Me: callie im gonna come to ohio soon. I think we are gonna lose connection tho. Idk if this will even send, but ill see u in ohio. I love you.

The message doesn’t send. You shudder out a sigh, and you’re grateful when Indie nuzzles into your side.

Your phone finally shuts off, though it’s useless now, anyway. You crawl into your bed and Indie curls up next to you, and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

[-]

“Shh!”

You jolt awake at the hissing sound that’s coming from downstairs. Indie is tense and alert, and she licks your elbow. You sit up, and vaguely note the time: 3:37am.

There’s some shuffling, and you see the beam of what you assume to be a flashlight shakily illuminate the walls downstairs. You didn’t close your bedroom door when you came in, because you assumed that you were alone.

‘Stupid…’ You think to yourself as you grip Indie’s collar. She begins to growl, but you shush her quickly, though she flattens her ears back at you. Letting out a shaky breath, you crawl off of your bed as silently as you can manage, and reach for the hammer and paring knife in your bag.

Indie follows you as you venture into the hallway, and you perch behind the bars of your stairs as the hushed conversation down below becomes clearer.

“Just find whatever food you can and let’s go.” A deep male voice cuts through the silence.

“We need to check the car! There’s nothing here.” A stranger male voice answers, and giggles. “We should find the girl instead.”

You tense, and grip the hammer a little tighter.

“I don’t care about her. I just want her stuff.” The deep voice asserts, and you wonder what you should do next. Storm downstairs and hammer them to death? You’ve never fought anybody before, let alone killed someone. Your hands are becoming clammy, and you don’t notice the pregnant pause in the conversation downstairs.

It isn’t until you see a head of brown hair come into view that you’re snapped from your thoughts. Indie can’t help herself-- she barks, and bolts down the stairs before you can stop her. The two boys yell in surprise, and you watch as she tackles the tall one with brown hair. Meanwhile, the other one comes into view-- he has large, droopy eyes with spiked red hair, and he looks excited when he catches sight of you.

“There she is!” He coos, and begins to walk upstairs. You gasp, and you know in this split second that your home is no longer yours-- you need to get away. In one fluid motion, you run into your room to grab your single bag of groceries. It’s heavy, but you don’t notice as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

When you turn to run down the stairs, the red-head catches you by both of your upper arms. He licks his chapped lips, and your knee jerks out to hit his groin. He yelps and doubles over, and you fly down the stairs.

“Indie!” You whistle, and she actually bounds from the living room over the couch, to skid by your side. You swipe the car keys off the counter, rip the sliding glass door open, and use the fob to unlock the car. You open the passenger for Indie, she leaps in as you toss the bag and your hammer and knife in behind her, you slam the door closed, and hop over the hood of the car.

As you turn to open the driver’s side door, you watch as the red-head runs in slow motion from your stairs to the exit to your backyard. You don’t breathe or shake as you turn the ignition, throw the car in reverse, then drive, and plow through your flimsy backyard gate as you push your little soccer van to its limits.

Tires skid as you swerve onto the street, and you press down so hard on the gas, that a few minutes later, you don’t register that you’re going 90 miles an hour in the suburbs. Houses pass you at incredible speed, and you ease up on the pedal when Indie licks your cheek. You stare straight ahead, and subconsciously, you drive towards your high school. Those three boys were nice to you-- they warned you, and you didn’t listen. They even tried to help you and include you, and you flat out denied them.

You slam on the brakes as you turn into Karasuno High’s parking lot. It’s only now that you realize that you didn’t fasten your seat belt, and you shut off the car with a shaky breath. The front of the school looms over you, and you wonder for a moment if they’re even here-- was it all a joke? What if they turn you away because you were such a bitch earlier? No matter how many scenarios you run through your head, you come to the same conclusion every time: you can’t go back home, and you’re already here, so you may as well investigate. You grab your hammer and get out of the car, and Indie follows behind. You close and lock the doors, pocketing the keys, and turn towards the school you’ve known for three and a half years.

The front gates are locked, of course. You wander the perimeter of the school, Indie trotting beside you the whole way. The school looks different in the dark-- it feels different, too. It’s like you’re walking in a dream, or some sort of in-between space. You shouldn’t be awake, and you definitely shouldn’t be here, but you are. It’s strange. Everything is bathed in moonlight, so it’s all a very specific shade of blue that makes you feel like you’re underwater.

You come upon the gym in the back of the school, and you’re startled to hear voices coming from inside. You tip-toe up to the doors, and Indie sniffs curiously.

“If your leg gets cut off, would it hurt?”

“Please just go to sleep.”

“Duh!” A third voice chimes in, and the second voice groans.

“How, though?” The first voice presses.

“‘Cause your leg got cut off, dumbass.” Third voice answers.

“Where’re you gonna feel the pain?”

“In your leg…” The third voice trails off.

“Exactly, man. How’re you gonna feel the pain in your leg if--”

“--if your leg is gone?!” The first and third voice finish together, and you hear the second person groan.

“I’m going outside.” He says, and as his voice gets louder, you stumble away from the door just as it opens.

You blink rapidly and your jaw drops-- Akaashi stands in front of you, brows furrowed and eyes wide. You can’t believe they’re actually here.

“Akaashi?” Someone calls from inside. Akaashi opens his mouth to respond, but glances at Indie when she sniffs his hand curiously. He pets her absent-mindedly as his gaze wanders back to yours.

Bokuto and Kuroo pop up behind him a second later, and they’re just as surprised as Akaashi. Indie sniffs them in turn, and her tail begins to wag.

You drop your hammer with a thud, and sniffle like a toddler before letting out a sob you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“C-can I stay with you?”

#haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyu fanfiction #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #slow burn

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whatthefuuuuuuccckkkk · 4 years

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okay this is my last post I know I'm being very annoying and I hate to clog the tag but I just have to scream into the void for a while if you disagree or you're annoyed with me please just scroll past this rant thank you

- the hitman plot. god. we all hate that shit. what I realllllly hate is how long and drawn out it is. should've been one episode tops, like when dean tried it. I want to say, that obviously it's not gonna work bcz it would be stupid to kill off the character carrying the entire show, but at this point maybe they are gonna kill him off??? idfk. maybe it's a punishment for all the people (everyone) who like him. truthfully the whole "murder is our only way out of this" attitude is disappointing and seemingly out of character for all of the girls. Boomer attacked annie and they let him fuckin live. They knew he was a fuckin rapist piece of shit, and a regular piece of shit too, but couldn't kill someone. But apparently killing someone beth, at one point, felt some typa way about...smh..apparently that is A ok and they don't even explore other options or feel the least bit guilty?? even when they "mourned" boomer it was more about marion than him. But rio and his whole ass innocent child are not a thought at all??? Wild. Truly. Also....what do they think will happen?? If I were a gang leader's right hand the first person I would check upon seeing my boss get murdered would probably be the person who tried to murder him last time lmao. Do they really think they would get away with it? Even if they didnt get caught, they wouldnt be off the hook. Surely mick would just keep things going, with even less leeway. And what happens when their illegal activities bite them in the ass when Rio is gone? Who are they gonna blame everything on? Who is gonna clean up their mess? No one. And this whole "I'm not doing it, wait yes I am, wait no I'm not, wait I'm gonna do it" thing the hitman is doing is...not it. I'm assuming were gonna get an explanation about how he knew that this was a crime of passion (lol)

-beth beth beth......you know there is a theory floating around that she has serious ptsd and I actually would love to see that explored but that shit ain't happening lol. I'm tired of feeling like I'm analyzing her character. At what point is it too much. She's hard to read but I think it has crossed the line over complex and ventured into poor characterization. She's gotten chances and chances and I'm tired. And dean. God I'm tired. I feel like all season I've been watching beth do the same thing, play good wifey, risk her (and Annie's and Ruby's) life by doing stupid shit..and that's basically it. Face some fckn consequences for your actions please. Take some responsibility. I feel like the show is showing us inklings of...something...bubbling underneath the surface but it's not our job to fill in the blanks or interpret shit. I do not work for nbc. I'm not getting paid for this. What is this girl thinking trying to get rio to invest in hot tubs (bless her calling dean an idiot. fuck this show for making him suddenly a good salesman) while trying to kill him. Does she think he dies and suddenly she owns it?? Makes zero sense. Also unpopular opinion i dont like that she caused a scene with the pool ball. Like....of course he isnt listening to you....you shot him...3 times....then stole from him....and have been screwing him over repeatedly.

-dean just....no. I understand that beth has so much going on in her life right now that divorce isn't exactly on her mind and dean is the last trace she has left of a normal life so shes holding onto it for dear life.....actually no. I do not know if any of that is actually true or if I'm just interpreting wrong. Because the subtext and editing and parallels and all that would be fine and dandy but not when that's all the show is at this point. If dean cheating yet again is not gonna make beth leave him, nothing will. I want his screentime to be 30 seconds and nothing more.

-im just not invested in the boland children. Annie and ruby have both struggled real bad, but beth, the one in the deepest, has 4 children who are somehow unaffected by this?? Not to mention the whole divorce, wait never mind, oh look a gang leader hanging out with mommy again, oh look our house is empty, type stuff happening. Beth's kids should be going through it but for some reason they arent? Maybe it's because child labor laws or something lol.

- rio. At this point I'm rooting for him for than anything. But I genuinely do not know why he hasnt killed beth. She's proven herself to be more of a liability than an asset and I just cannot understand why he hasnt killed her. Unless it's the whole "feelings" route, which wouldve made him look dumb, but made sense based on what we were given. This is actually the direction I thought the season was going but now it just seems like he is a bad businessman lol. Obviously she cant die for the sake of the show, but its like they didnt even try to make it make sense. He definitely knows about the hitman btw. I dont really blame him for anything he's done with beth so far. He robbed her in retaliation. He had to cut her off when she started acting shady. 🤷‍♀️ he let's her get away with too much tbh. It's a shame that this character isnt being utilized. Its like they are banking on this mysterious aura to keep working, but we are 3 seasons in and it's a little old now. I personally think that they just don't know what to do with him now. Also can I point out how dumb he looks showing beth that he is doing business at the carwash, why would he give her more information than she needs when he is suspicious of her? I cant tell if I was happy with how unphased he looked about her outburst or if I wish he checked her.

-mick. Did his side plot with beth die? How does it seem like this show simultaneously moves through plots every episode but is also stuck in the same one for the entire season? I also think mick is not being utilized. As funny as it is for him to be a built in 3rd wheel all the time, they could do so much more. Like can you imagine if beth mouthed off or fucked up and mick checked her? The possible ways a plot like that could go...untapped potential.

-ruby. Ah...I remember when I thought her and stan's fight was dragging for too long. Miss those days. See even tho ruby and stan seem to have the same issue over and over it's not the same story. Pen cap, new job, sarah stealing, all the same fight, but with different stories. And it really seems like Ruby's always going through it but I appreciate the variety. Stan's storyline has been interesting but I dont know how much it relates to the central plot. Sarah....great. that actress is so talented and even tho shes an attitude machine (what preteen is not) i just love her scenes. Harry seems to be missing a lot. The hills are the only part I seem to enjoy anymore. Really wish the show would explore why ruby seems to be the one who keeps getting caught up with the law...I wonder what it could be....what is different about her..hm...

- annie. Backtracked so much. Wish she had a single plot that didnt revolve around men. Now shes trying to cheat on her GED. Where's the snark? Where's the wit? It seems like all she is now is a codependent insecure mess. And I'm tired of this fuckass therapist. I thought her study montage was gonna end in a "she didnt need anyone but family (:" lesson but it did not for whatever reason. I thought by bringing a therapist into the show it was gonna give us more of a look at Annie's and Beth's upbringing and relationship. Or help annie work through her issues, the boomer thing too. Or maybe lead to Beth's ptsd diagnosis. Therapy could've helped move the plot forward or help the characters grow, but it's doing the opposite of that. If its not contributing to the main plot, what is its purpose? To give annie yet another terrible love interest?

To summarize....I hate it here.

#nbc good girls #good girls nbc #im just venting #really don't want to turn this into a debate #ive been awake for 24 hours and drinking for 20 of those

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yaz-the-spaz · 5 years

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I'm sure you've noticed me stalking your blog these past two days lol and I have another question if you dont mind. In my last ask you said you had some theories about zayn leaving ot4vszayn etc and I was wondering if you would expand upon them? If you dont want to write it all out, you can point me towards certain tags or other blogs if you want. I've been looking through your tags and have found a lot but I wanted to know if there is something that might be more like a timeline of sorts? Thx!!

hey there! here i finally am, so sorry to have kept you waiting but i hope this reply finds you well! :)

now onto your questions…

so as far as a timelines @bakagamieru has some really good masterposts (x, x) that i would recommend checking out that really break things down play-by-play and i think most of which was compiled as it was happening so it’s a super great (and super detailed) documentation of all the shit that was going down during that period and all the narrative inconsistencies and stunts and back and forth, etc. they’re quite long though and, like i said, very detailed so i would recommend making sure you have plenty of time on your hands before you get sucked down a masterpost and link rabbit hole lol

and for more thoughts/theories of mine i would say check my zayn vs. ot4 tags (x, x - sorry there’s multiple iterations of this, apparently sometimes i had put a period after vs and sometimes i didn’t and now i have two tags smh at my own damn irritating inconsistency)

now onto the meat of your question, which is my current theories on zayn leaving/the zayn vs. ot4 narrative which i’m gonna put as a read more cause i’m not in the mood for ppl coming for me if they disagree, so read at your own risk folks…

so over the years there’s four main theories that i’ve personally gone back and forth over, which i’m gonna summarize quickly and try and explain as succinctly as i can my thoughts on each one and my opinion on the likelihood of it holding credence

disclaimer before i get into the explanations - a large part of my reasoning has to do with the caveat of there possibly being any kind of real tension or bad blood between zayn and louis in particular or any of the other boys. not saying that it was necessarily actually the case, just that it was a potential factor that went into my rationale and personal mental debate over the whole situation

he was coerced in some shape or form to leave and instead of fighting it, went along with it (maybe b/c he was already unhappy) - if there ever was actually any real animosity between him and louis (or harry/niall), this could explain why louis (or the others) might have hypothetically been mad at him b/c he might have felt that zayn could’ve/didn’t fight hard enough or went along with it too easily. but all that aside, even if there was no tension between him and louis/the boys, this option makes a lot of sense because given all he talked about going through in the band (depression, the e.d., too much pressure, not having control or being able to do what he wanted, the intense and rampant closeting putting a strain on his relationship, etc.) it’s not hard to see how he might’ve felt this was the best and only option

he was coerced into leaving, tried to fight it but couldn’t (and possibly even knew for a while that it was coming) - this wouldn’t explain why louis (or the others) might have hypothetically been mad at him but instead does put more credence into the fact that that was completely contrived and pushed by mgmt, and is also just as likely as #1 to me for pretty much the same reasons, not to mention it explains some shady things that happened in the months leading up to it re him not being there for certain promo obligations and appearances, etc.

he was coerced into leaving and had absolutely no choice about it and no way to fight it (i.e. didn’t necessarily want to leave but still knew for a while that it was coming) - pretty much same reasoning as above for this one, the only difference being that in this scenario he wouldn’t have wanted to leave at all which given all he went through i just don’t know if i believe that was wholly the case (more on this below)

he chose to leave completely on his own - although it would explain any lingering animosity, this to me is the least likely in large part because i just have a hard time believing he would have chosen all on his own to just up and leave in the middle of a tour, not to mention been allowed to (esp given that they would’ve all known they had the hiatus coming up not long after and were about to go the countries where zayn specifically probably have had the biggest following/fan support - the middle east and north africa). but even if he hypothetically really did choose it all on its own it’s hard for me to believe that he would have even been able to leave like that unless there was some element of complacency from their mgmt that allowed it to happen and then you have to wonder why would they just let 1/5 of their biggest money maker walk away with no law suits, no drama, no nothing. it stinks of a larger plan at play which is what brings me back to the theories above.

those are the main theories that i’ve gone back and forth on and i’ve never really been able to settle on just one, but to me given all that he expressed after leaving the most likely are the first two. i think all of the boys were pretty much done with how they were being treated, but zayn especially so, and it’s very easy for me to see how, when the opportunity arose he might have accepted because he felt it was the best way to save himself (as in his mental and physical health) and possibly also his relationship, though whether that acceptance was with a little (theory #1) or lot (theory #2) of initial opposition on his part, who’s to say. however, i definitely believe that, regardless of the details, there was some element of seeding and/or coercion from tptb, esp when considered in context with the shadiness of certain things, like him not being at certain events that he should’ve legally been obligated to be at in the months leading up to his leaving if no one but him knew he was planning on leaving. or him crying at the last concert that he performed at. those do not seem to be like the actions of a man who wanted to leave completely of his own accord and without any degree of finessing by mgmt to orchestrate it. when you’re a mega popstar in the biggest band in the world you don’t just not show up to something. that’s the type of situation where people will literally come to your house and drag you out of bed because you’re costing them a shit ton of money (like millions of dollars worth of money) by not being there. there’s tons of stories of rock stars where managers or someone from their team would literally go bang down a missing band member’s door, shove them in the shower to sober them up or help them whatever they needed to do, and drag their ass on stage to perform or to a press event or whatever. so you can bet that nothing less, if not the same, would be done for a missing member of a multi-billion-dollar-making band if need be.

so yeah zayn just not showing up for promo events and performances in the months leading up to his leaving? not believable to me at all. the only conceivable reason for him not to have been there is if mgmt didn’t want him there and the only reason (at least that i can think of) for why you wouldn’t 1/5 of your biggest money-maker to be somewhere he should have been legally obligated to be (and that might’ve cost you hundreds of thousands of dollars for him not to be) is if he wasn’t legally obligated to be there because you were already in the process of phasing him out. ergo it was very likely planned. months in advance. and if it was planned months in advance with the help and orchestration of mgmt then that story of him just deciding to up and leave is complete bs and makes it even more likely to me that there was a level of coercion (because again if 1/5 of your biggest money maker suddenly says to you ‘i wanna leave’ you’re gonna do everything in your power to make him stay so you can keep making money, not help phase him out. unless of course you want him out, which they clearly did.)

one last thing i wanna add is a link to a post i had saved that i feel adds a bit of further credence to all this, it’s nothing concrete but it’s something that helped solidify some things for me when i was a giant ball of confusion over what to believe

anyway, i know that i rambled on forever and this definitely did not end up being as succinct or brief as i had hoped (though lbr when is anything i do ever), but i hope this at least sort of answered your questions and made some amount of sense/was not too incoherent and didn’t completely bore you to death lol

#asks #kurtain-the-cat #my thoughts #zayn vs. ot4 #zayn vs ot4 #zayn leaving #theories #(side note: there's also one more side theory re louis and harry's possible/hypothetical animosity toward zayn #that i didn't include here cause it's super tinhatty and has to do with babygate #but if you're still curious about that after reading all this then we can talk about that too)

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badcompanion · 7 years

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6/28/17

this is me purging and moving tf on.

I’m still so upset over this guy that I met on Tinder that I went on one date w/ and its so pathetic I know, but listen. We messaged back and forth for 3+ weeks. It was super platonic and I wasn’t all that interested, but he seemed really interested in getting to know me. He also seemed kinda shy and quiet and geeky (in a cute way), so I never really expected it to go anywhere, whatever. He’s Brazilian, an international student doing his master’s in geography. We bonded over the fact that he was an IR/law major in his undergrad. He didn’t have anything in his bio, and from his pics he looked pretty average. He wasn’t the most coherent texter so honestly, I didn’t really know what to make of him. Anyways, at one point I was telling him how boring my life was these days, and he said something like “we should add some excitement to it”, (rolled my eyes at that line) and from there, we made plans to hang out.

We made plans for Thursday. It was my first tinder date (first date ever tbh) so I was hella nervous. I planned out my outfit, my makeup, everything days in advance. I still wasn’t all that interested in him, it was just the prospect of an actual real-life date with an actual real-life man that made me apprehensive. But I calmed myself down by telling myself that he’d be shy and quiet (I always feel more confident around people that are shier than me), and we’d just go out for drinks, so if it sucked I could just bail after one beer.

Anyways, it’s Wednesday afternoon and I’m at work, and I get a message from him saying that something came up for tomorrow, but he was free today. I spent a good couple hours panicking at that. I can’t see him tonight, what about my date outfit!! Can’t go home and change if we’re meeting downtown. I need a shower! On the other hand, it’d be nice to just get this over with instead of having a to make plans for a later date and stressing about it for longer. Plus, I was still riding that go-with-the-flow, take-a-chance mantra that had treated me so well when I was in the DR. I quickly took stock of my appearance. I was wearing a cute midi bodycon dress and my denim jacket. I had makeup and a mini hairspray in my bag. I badly needed a shower, but my hair wasn’t that greasy. So I figured, what the hell, and said yes, let’s grab a drink after work. On my lunch break, I ran to the mall and bought a pair of hoop earrings, concealer, and a rollerball perfume, so I was more or less good to go. I messaged him around 1pm, and didn’t hear back from him w/ a confirmation until after 5 (I suggested drinks around 5:30). We eventually decided that I would meet him at a pub near the university (not downtown) because it would’ve taken him a while to come down, and I didn’t want to wait around. It’s around 6:30 by the time I go get my car and drive there (totally could’ve gone home first, smh).

Moment of truth. We both walk up the pub entrance at the same time. I smiled, he smiled. He goes in for a hug that I wasn’t prepared for and it turns into this kinda awkward side hug thing, but whatever. He greets me, and it isn’t a “nice-to-meet-you” kind of thing, more like we’re old friends. My first thoughts: dang, he’s much more good-looking than I expected. Also, not quiet—he had a strong, confident voice. The hostess says we can sit wherever, and he leads me a to a booth in a quiet section near the back. It’s cozy, and as close to romantic as a university Irish pub can get.

So it begins. We order beers, and we talk. Man, do we talk. I had practiced so many lines in my head, and I was so ready for awkward silences, but there was barely any. Our conversation flowed so well, I don’t think I’d ever had such a long conversation with a virtual stranger before, without awkward silences. He was definitely NOT shy and quiet; the boy could talk—but the conversation wasn’t completely one-sided either. Like with our texts, he seemed really interested in my life and asked a lot of great questions. We talked about starting law school, the university, his research, my time in the DR, his time in Colombia, Latin culture, and so much more. A couple beers in, he said he wanted to order food, so a good sign, right? I tell him I’m vegetarian, he says something like, “Oh, good to know for next time.” ;) ;) Halfway through our food, he asks me what I’m doing after this. I tell him I’m going home. He suggests picking up some beers and going back to his place. It was thrown out there so offhandedly, so innocently, and he was so charming, staring straight into my eyes (into my soul, tbh), that before I knew it, I said yes. Then common sense came back and I realized what I was agreeing to. “Actually, maybe I shouldn’t. I have to work tomorrow. I’m driving, so I shouldn’t drink anymore.” Or something along those lines. I don’t even know what we said after this, but somehow I found myself acquiescing again. One drink tops.

I find that most of my bad decisions are made in moments like this, where I’m put on the spot. I just can’t think fast in these types of situations! And let’s be real, I was dissociating hard throughout most of the night. The possibility of sex never even occurred to me until later, and even then, I never thought about the fact that I was wearing the ugliest bra I own that I hadn’t washed since god-knows-when, granny panties, A HIGH-WAISTED BATHING SUIT BOTTOM FOR TUMMY CONTROL PURPOSES. Goddammit. If I had time to weigh my options and really thing everything through, I realize I would’ve and should’ve said no. We could’ve ended the night on a nice note. I would’ve offered to drive him home, he would’ve leaned over the middle console of my car and kissed me goodnight, and I would’ve floated on home. Maybe I’d still be in the same situation now, but at least I would’ve saved myself some embarrassment.

Anyways, back to the story. The bill comes. The waitress asks, “Together or separate?” I should’ve jumped in and insisted on separates, but I waited a beat too late, and he said, “Together.” I hate when people argue over the bill and the waitress has to awkwardly stand there, so I just sent him a look, like you shouldn’t have! and said thank you. So he pays the bill, we walk to the liquor store. We’re still chatting. He buys some white wine (“for guests”–?? red flag much??) and some beers for us—PBR, on my recommendation. We get in my car, drive back to his place which is only like five minutes away. It occurs to me to say something like, “I’m not going to have sex with you” but I think better of it, mostly because he never once mentioned anything sexual or even touched me since that initial awkward hug, and it seemed presumptuous.

We pull up to his house. It’s a typical house for this part of Calgary, and he shares it with a couple roommates. He tells me to head downstairs, while he runs to the kitchen to put the beers in the fridge. I go down, and the main basement area has a couch and TV, so I put my bag down and wait there for him. He comes down, hands me a beer, and leads me to his bedroom. I was probably visibly awkward from this point on. (Let’s go back to this afternoon, shall we, when I was preparing to bail after a single beer?? I didn’t think for a second about ending up in his bedroom!!) I stand around awkwardly while he grabs his laptop to put on music.

He finally touches me—a quick brush down the small of my back as he maneuvers around me to sit on his bed, but it sparks the sexual tension. I finally sit down, near the food of the bed, while he’s by the head, we’re facing each other. He puts on music, we chat some more and sip our beers. The conversation takes a more interesting turn, and we’re talking about Latin vs Western dating culture.

It all feels a bit more flirty now. He finally says something like, “Why are you sitting so far away, come sit by me.” I walk over, and now we’re both half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, our faces inches apart. We chat a bit more, about god knows what. He reaches over and brushes some non-existent lint off my dress. He plays with the hair-tie on my wrist. He says something along the lines of, “So now that we’ve hung out, what do you think of me?” I respond with…something (I must have, right?) and I ask him the same thing. He responded with…something (again, he must have, right) but who knows because he’s looking right in my eyes and his face is moving closer and closer to mine, and then there’s that glorious little pause before his lips touch mine…

It starts off sweet and slow, but his tongue is in my mouth almost immediately. I think his hand is on my thigh, but mine are both still wrapped around my half-full can of PBR. He takes it from me and sets it on his bedside table. Things aren’t moving slowly anymore, and I’m no longer vertical. I’m lying down, and he’s sort of leaning over me. His lips and tongue are doing a number on my mouth, but strangely, he doesn’t really open his mouth. (Looking back, the making out was subpar to be honest. The fact that he wouldn’t really let me explore his mouth was weird, and there was way too much saliva.) His hands are everywhere—working up my (half-shaved) legs—how did my midi dress end up around my waist??—on my breasts (much too rough). He’s still talking too; I don’t remember the specifics, but it wasn’t subtle. I finally catch my breath long enough to mumble, “I’m not going to sleep with you, you know” to which he cleverly responds, “Oh, we don’t have to sleep.” It was a good line, I’ll give him that. Overall, he’s real good at the dirty talk. He keeps trying to talk me into sex, and I just keep saying, “not tonight”, “next time” etc. It’s getting a little awkward, and I’m stiffening.

Sensing this, he rolls off me, closes the bedroom door and turns off the light. I relax a little, hoping that I’ve made it clear that there won’t be any sex, and we can just continue making out. But nope. I don’t remember how, but he manages to take my dress off. He moves my hands to the buttons on his shirt, and I clumsily work my way down, and slip it off his shoulders. I like that he’s acting dominant, telling me what to do—it’s turning me on more than the action to be honest. He’s on top, straddling me, and he works my bra off too. Finally, his fingers on my nipples, then his mouth (my biggest turn on)…but it’s over too quickly. He moves off me again and lies down next to me, and his hand is between my legs, rubbing me through my panties (and bathing suit LMAO) It’s hot, but I don’t want to encourage him, so I resist when he tries to spread my legs wider, and move his hand away. More persuasive dirty talk, with minimal awkward responses from me. He says something like, “Okay, we’ll set some ground rules. Your panties will stay on.”

Whew, I relax a bit more. He’s on top of me again, and grinding on me while making out. His hand makes its way into my panties (which is a feat, because that bathing suit is tight) and he plays with my clit. He’s back to convincing me to have sex, and I keep saying “next time”. At once point, he asks why not, and my brilliant answer? Not, “because I just met you”…”because I’m a good girl.” Anyways, you can imagine where the dirty talk went from there. He moves to the side, and guides my hand to his hard-on. Somehow HIS pants are still on, but not for long. Again, he asks me to unbutton and unzip his pants, and he kicks them off. I keep rubbing him through his boxers—he says, “Don’t worry, if you’re underwear is staying on, so is mine”… but that lasts about 30 seconds. I think to myself, okay fine, I’ll give him a handjob and make my exit. I’m at it for a while, he’s rubbing my clit through my underwear again.

Things get pretty… uncool from here. He keeps mentioning how much he wants to fuck me, and I’m still saying no. Then he says, “How about if I put my cock in your mouth?” or something to that effect. I don’t respond, and try to distract him/get him to shut up by kissing his mouth, then his neck. He then asks to cum on my face–to which I again stay quiet—and then asks to cum on my tits (“I have tissues!”) I give a very unencouraging yes to that (better than my face, right?). He notices, whines, “Well, that’s not very enthusiastic” but straddles my chest anyway—but he’s basically sitting on my tits, and his cock is right in my face. I’m getting annoyed and fed up now, so I tell him more sternly, “Don’t cum on my face.” He backs off a little, but then he sticks his fingers in my mouth…and I go to town, because for me this is so hot. He says, “Aww, you’re going to tease me like that?” and it’s stupid and silly and against ever feminist bone in my body, but at that point I do feel like a tease, and I feel obligated to go down on him. So I take his cock in my mouth, and he’s still straddling my chest so it’s not the best angle. It’s not too too big, but since I’ve never done this before, I know it wasn’t great—I didn’t avoid the teeth very well, oops. But then again, he’s on top of me so I can’t even spit him out to take a breath, so can you blame me? He notices my struggle, and so he rolls off me, and I kneel over him from the side. I do my thing for a while—a bit better technique on my end…but then the asshole grabs my face and starts fucking it, and his cock is hitting the back of my throat. This continues for a while until I’m almost gagging, so I’m not even trying to avoid the teeth anymore. It must not’ve been fun for him anymore, because he takes his cock to his hand, and asks me to lick his balls. Okay, so I do. Then I think he might’ve come? I have no idea. I didn’t think he did, but he seems to be over it.

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eyesofegytmocha · 8 years

Text

Murphy’s Law

To begin, I don’t like people to think they’re speaking for me. My words are always taken out of context and it is honestly my number one disdain in humanity. I like when someone directly approaches me with he/she say rather than dismiss me or believe the first thing that is heard, which is usually taken out of term. I learned in 2016 that people have terrible communication skills, myself included. I only say what’s important at the moment, not what’s troubling me or on my mind. That being said, I can be the first to acknowledge my flaws moreso than anyone I know, yet not everyone can do the same. I have anxiety. I am self conscious, yet don’t exude it. I am analytical, able to visualize, articulate, and conceptualize both complex and uncomplicated problems by making sensible decisions. Sensible, yes, but do I always communicate with others that share the same sensibility? NO. People, they confuse me. Truthfully. I never think people mean what they say, nor do I think they are capable of maintaining the mindset to make it happen. I don’t like being wrong so I try everything in my power to be right, so I keep thoughts to myself that can’t be proven or pushed. The lessons I learned in 2016 are beginning to repeat themselves already.

Either I haven’t learned the lessons I needed or I’m surrounding myself with people who haven’t. I remember when I was 12, I always felt like I had a secret bubble or force field that helped me screen through the bullshit. I wish I was still 12 lol. The thought makes me smile. I think I am in a state right now where the people not meant for me are leaving, I am thankful for that. I just wish the ones who were meant to stay would stay and continue to be patient with me as we continue to learn and grow from each other. I plan on writing a memoir to the ones who have made permanent impressions on me, only the important ones. Not that they’d ever get to see it. The ones that’ve made me cry, sad and happy tears alike. Smile. An era where guys made playlists for their girl that made them think about them. I remember this guy Nate made me a playlist in highschool. That was when Pesos by ASAP ROCKY was the most popular and I didn’t appreciate it how I should’ve. I listen to it in the car now every time I’m home and reminisce on being young, naive, and carefree. Good ole days. Now though, everything is life or death. Do or die. Taken out of term, anxiety cries. “This is how I want you to love me.” I wish someone would say it to me. I’m waiting to hear it. That’s all anyone is ever waiting for. Tell me how to do right by you, so I won’t do wrong and make you leave. If everything was that easy, well... everything should be that easy. I want to be told when I am appreciated. One of my faults is that I like reassurance. And yes, I do like to cuddle. I’ve been sexually assaulted so, I need someone with patience. Enough patience for me to become comfortable so we can explore the Kama Sutra book and fuck like Sumo wrestlers that aim at killing vaginas. I think dicks are easier targets. I overthink, but those are the thoughts that keep me up at night. Being wrong, being a failure. Not being enough. My overthinking doesn’t equate well with someone that isn’t emotionally responsive. But I don’t overthink in a negative sense in terms of other people and their intentions, moreso what should be done in order to best benefit me. I overthink in the sense that I like covering my own ass for reassurance. Like, don’t forget to put you first type of mindset.

I don’t tell anyone my deep thoughts, too.. Hades, I think is the word. I laugh a lot cause I know pain, too well. That’s why I’m so understanding in terms of other’s situations. I’m attracted to people who are also familiar with pain, maybe that’s my problem. But I like that our demons play well together. I have a dark warped since of humor and can be completely inconsiderate sometimes in terms of humor. I had a big altercation with my “family” last year that has persisted, and it’s ruining my current relationships in life cause the problems they started have persisted. Though I have no mind to attempt to rekindle a friendship with any of them, I can’t seem to get away. And I try. I try to leave them alone in their mess and selfishness. Tonight, it got bad. I don’t know how, but it got real bad. You know something’s bad when you can’t ignore it anymore. *TRIES HARDER* . I’ll put it all in my memoir. I was told something about a sex tape, and I.. I’d never make that type of accusation on someone without probable cause. I have referred to multiple snap videos, and some that I was told were edited to further embarrass me, but never a sex tape. I don’t even know how.. smh. Fuck it. Further reason to prove people aren’t comprehensive. If I did have a sex tape out there somewhere though I’d be mad I haven’t seen it :/ I always wanted to watch my own sex tape. Make and watch lol. Like Martin and Gina. At the simplistic age of 21, I need only as follows; food, sexx, jokes, consistency, and more food. And weed. Keep me high, happy, and thick. I don’t need much, really. Even a bag of oxtails would do me right, but sometimes there’s not enough meat on the bones. Dating girls is every’s girl solution to all when all is gone and there’s no daily dose of dick to keep her attitude in check.. I just want my force field. Please. Bring back my force field. And can it come with a dildo?

Murphy’s Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Written By: Quentin Tarantino

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