#hate to say freestyle

[runawaycarouselhorse]

Three little dark brown spots set in a splash of milky light brown On the palm of my left hand, I showed to my mother, curious. She took one look and said: "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

My sister, filled with self-loathing About her appearance, envious Of how I never seemed to hate mine. "I love my big, poofy, wavy hair!" "You love frizz for some reason." She lamented her dark eyes, Told her I always liked mine, They reminded me of black tea— A deep, reddish-brown; tea-coloured. She looked closely at my eyes; "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

I never stopped loving my hair or my eyes! I just loved them less: sad, hateful things.

Returning after prayer in medical school, Lashes still too wet for my glasses, I stepped into my sunny lecture room, My late friend (one of only two) cried: "You have light brown eyes! Your glasses Hide them–destroy them." Like a poem!

Once, I sat on my bed, in the sunlight. Mama insisted on open windows, I like morning light, but not mid-day heat. So I always closed them at noon— I sat in the sun, mama stood in the door She hurriedly called my dad over to see. "Look, in the sun, her hair looks golden!"

[pardonmydelays]

born to be silly, forced to spend the whole night at work

[yourbleedingh3art]

Mmmm whatcha sayyyy Mmmmmm that I have an essayyyy Well of course I dooo Mmmm whatcha sayyyyyyy MmmmmmmmMmmm that it’s all for the classs, Of course it is, Mm mmm whatcha SayyyYyyy MMMMMMMMM

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

[bidamonalbarn]

PLEASE infodump about drake

okok this is specific to the drake/kendrick drama but i can also do a drake one too - im assuming you know basically nothing. & i barely know this shit so correct me if im wrong. also this will be routinely updated so! check in :D

2011 - Take Care (album) by Drake features Kendrick Lamar on the track Buried Alive Interlude

2012 - Drake has Kendrick open for his Club Paradise Tour. The same year they both feature on A$AP Rocky's song Fuckin Problems (also with 2 Chainz)

2013 - Kendrick called out a few rappers (J. Cole, Pusha T, Big Sean, etc.) including Drake. Drake responds saying he had no response, basically. They do this again the same year (Kendrick says shit, Drake doesnt respond)

2016 (ish) - They continue subtle beef (Kendrick saying Drake has ghost writers, Drake saying Kendrick "sold out")

2023 - First Person Shooter by Drake and J. Cole drops (their first collab since 2013). In the song Drake mentions "the big three" in reference to himself, J. Cole, and Kendrick

2024, Mar. - Like That by Metro Boomin' and Kendrick Lamar drops. In it Kendrick responds to Drake, saying "the big three ... it's just big me", implying that Kendrick is above Drake and J. Cole. Drake attempts to ban Like That from the radio.

2024, Apr. - Push Ups by Drake is released. The song is about how Drake believes Kendrick is being extorted - the track referencing the phrase "drop and give me 50".

2024, Apr. - Taylor Made Freestyle by Drake is released, his second diss track at Kendrick. Here Drake disses Kendrick for "selling out" specifically in reference to Bad Blood by Taylor Swift ft. Kendrick Lamar. Drake also used AI vocals of Snoop Dogg and Tupac - this resulted in him almost being sued by Tupac's Estate. Drake wiped the song from his sites

2024, Apr. - Euphoria by Kendrick Lamar is released. The track is 6 minutes long, cut down from its original 19 minutes. The title is in reference to the TV series Euphoria which Drake is an executive producer of - it's also referencing the sexualisation of underage people, something done by the show and (allegedly) Drake himself. Within the track Kendrick makes fun of Drakes accent, how Drake says the n-word, how Drake dresses... and a fuck load more

2024, May. - 6:16 in LA by Kendrick Lamar releases, less than 72 hours after Euphoria dropped. This track specifically disses Drake for having ghost writers/lots of co-writers. He also implies that Drakes friends are stabbing him in the back and selling his info. This track is co-produced by Jack Antonoff, who co-writes and co-produces for Taylor Swift.

2024, May. - Family Matters by Drake is released. I want to be honest with you, i didn't listen to this until i got this ask. This track implies Kendrick beats his wife. Drake also disses other rappers such as A$AP Rocky, Future, etc.

2024, May. - Drake releases a Buried Alive Interlude Parody on his Instagram

2024, May. - Meet the Grahams by Kendrick Lamar is released. In this track (which is by far my favourite of all the tracks) Kendrick calls Drake a deadbeat dad and accuses Drake of having another secret child (apart from Adonis). Kendrick has a verse dedicated to this supposed child in which he basically parents her - teaching her all the things Drake wont. He also implies Drake struggles with alcohol and gambling

2024, May. - Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar is released. The fourth diss track from Kendrick. In this track Kendrick alleges that there's pedophiles and trafficking within OVO (an indie record label founded by Drake). Kendrick also says that every rapper who's complimented Drake is lying and now hates him for using Tupac's vocals through AI. This track includes my favourite line "Tryna stike a chord and it's probably A-Minor"

[rad-batson]

Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)

They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another

Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*

Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)

Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.

Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*

Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*

Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)

Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces

Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”

Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”

During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.

Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.

Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project

They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.

Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things

Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”

Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances

“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”

Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail

Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.

During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.

Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries

[riality-check]

TW: past verbal and emotional abuse

The Harrington house is a game of perfection.

Steve has known this fact for as long as he can remember. There is a right way, a narrow way, a rigid way, of doing things. Numbers dictate all: rebounds, points, and assists for basketball, new PRs in freestyle and backstroke for swim. The numbers themselves do not matter; all that does is that they grow and shrink appropriately.

Infinite growth is not sustainable; not for Steve's stats, not for Richard's stocks. Both of them strive for it anyway.

The house must be clean. The parties can't be busted. The people of Hawkins will only say good things about the Harrington family. Gloria strives for these things, day in and day out.

The Harrington house is also a game of Perfection.

Steve hated that game growing up. The one with the little yellow pieces and the blue board. He was never able to get all the pieces in the right spot before the board spit them all back out.

It made a ticking noise, like a time bomb. Steve doesn't know when he started associating that sound with his parents.

It fits. It fits almost too well. They're fine, at least for a little while. The ticking starts quiet, then grows louder and louder until everything blows up.

The thing is, in Perfection, that the board blows up even if you put all the pieces in the right spots in time. The thing is, in the Harrington house, that everything blows up even if Steve does everything right.

The ticking lasts for days sometimes, weeks others. It's impossible, random, and impossibly random.

The only consistent thing is the board blowing up. And when that happens, so does the shouting.

The Party thinks that Tommy and Carol taught Steve to be cruel. That they're the ones who taught him how to bare his fangs and spit venom. That once he left them, the rage left him.

He's okay with letting them think that. It's easier than explaining that Richard and Gloria are the ones who taught him how to snap and shout, how to tear holes in other people with a few well-spoken barbs.

When Steve thinks of his parents, he thinks of fighting. He thinks of his father calling him useless and his mother calling him an idiot. He thinks of his mother calling his father dirt and his father calling his mother a bitch.

There are never any apologies. "I'm sorry" is never said in the Harrington house, even when the board gets reset.

They say "I got you pizza for dinner." "I saw this at the store and thought of you." "Do you want to come with me to get gas?"

And with that, the ticking starts up again.

Horrible things are said when the board blows up. Steve says horrible things when the board blows up. He's called his father an asshole and his mother self-absorbed and apologized without any apology at all.

He cleaned the pool instead.

Steve doesn't want to the board to blow up in the middle of the Munson trailer. It's why he's keeping his mouth shut while Eddie yells at him.

"What the hell, Stevie?" Eddie shouts, arms flying. "I told you that you can’t do that!"

“You told me you don’t want me to,” Steve says, staying calm and measured.

Calm and measured. Not blowing up. Steve isn’t going to snap or shout or bitch. He isn’t.

“Fucking semantics!”

“They were saying-”

“I don’t care what they were saying!” Eddie roars. “I don’t give a shit what they say about me!”

It’s true. Wayne calls Eddie “Teflon,” says that nothing sticks to him, least of all anyone’s opinion. Steve knows that Eddie doesn’t care about what most people in Hawkins think about him.

But he cares very much about what the people who care about him think.

Steve can say a whole lot of things right now. He’s angry, physically biting his tongue to ground himself. He can say a whole lot of things to cut Eddie to the bone, to end the argument and then some.

But he won’t.

Love is knowing how to hurt someone and choosing not to. It’s using a knife to split an apple to share instead of to cut skin to ribbons.

Steve can’t trust himself not to slash Eddie open. He says awful things when everything goes to hell like this, snaps back hard when snapped at first, operates purely on instinct.

He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I care that you could have gotten hurt when you swung at those assholes,” Eddie continues. “I care that I wasn’t there with you when you defended yourself. I care that you won’t let me take a look at your hands and make sure they’re alright.”

Steve squeezes the knuckles of this right hand in his left. It stings, but he’s fine. Nothing broken. He knows from experience

“Stop it, you’re hurting yourself,” Eddie barks.

Steve lets go of his hands, lets them hang loosely at his sides.

“So, what the hell, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, still loud, still snappish.

A variety of terrible answers surges to the front of Steve’s mind. Eddie’s biggest insecurities, the things he’s only told Steve when he thought he was asleep. Ways to wipe the anger off his face and replace it with stuff easier to manage: shock, hurt, sadness. Things he would say if he didn’t particularly like Eddie, if he were still in high school, if he were still in his parents’ house.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He keeps the knife in its drawer. He closes his eyes tight and breathes in once, then again.

“Hey,” Eddie says, softer.

Steve opens his eyes to find him a step closer, hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

Oh.

Well.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that.

He’s said it before. Of course he has. He knows the words, knows that he needed to say them to Dustin and Robin and Max, and he has. He’s stepped too far with jokes and forgot about some things and missed some things they’ve said.

But he’s never yelled at them. They’ve never yelled at him.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Eddie isn’t supposed to apologize. He’s supposed to clean Steve up or make him dinner or invite him along to go grocery shopping.

And Steve was supposed to snap back.

“It’s okay,” he says because that’s what he’s supposed to say, yeah?

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It was bound to happen.”

Eddie stares at him, big doe eyes shining, like he has five heads. It makes Steve want to put his bloody hands behind his back, make him shrink.

He swears he can hear ticking, but the board just reset. Didn’t it?

“What?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I got scared, but that doesn’t mean I get to yell at you. That’s not okay.”

What does Eddie get to do, if not yell?

I deserve it, Steve thinks, but he’s smart enough to know that saying that out loud will just lead to another fight.

There’s been barely any time to put the pieces back.

Steve doesn’t get it. But, he figures he’s always been a little slow on the uptake, so he can watch. Observe. Figure it out later on his own. He’s pretty good at that.

“Okay,” Steve says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he holds his hands out for Eddie to take.

He’s dragged along to the sink, where Eddie rinses the cuts out with cool water before bandaging them up with the remnants of a box of Band-Aids from the bathroom. When they’re dry and finished, he presses a kiss to each knuckle, feather light.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking at Steve very seriously.

“Me, too,” Steve says, voice a little hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

It feels good to say. It feels good to mean.

Standing there in the kitchen of a trailer in Forest Hills, looking at the mismatched furniture and half-full ashtrays of the living room, holding hands with his boyfriend formerly accused of murder and apologizing for the first time and meaning it, Steve feels like he can finally breathe.

The ticking has finally stopped, and silence sounds so sweet.

[local-space-gay]

for someone who had pretty much no voice acting experience going into the movie I am so impressed with Eugene Lee Yang’s performance as Ambrosius. The way he delivered his lines was so good they’re constantly floating around my head like:

The softness in his voice when he says “they’re gonna love you, like I do,” is so sweet.

Just in general, the clear difference in his voice when he’s loudly commanding knights vs when he’s talking to Ballister alone. You can tell he feels so much softer and more comfortable around him through the way he talks

The entire inner monologue. the way it slowly ramped up to the point where he was screaming at the top of his lungs. It’s so funny and so sad at the same time

During the bar scene, the way that his voice breaks into a whisper when he says “arm” in “I’m sorry. For everything. For your arm,” like it sounds as if he can’t bring himself to say the word. Gives me chills

The way he says “he hates freestyle jazz” makes me giggle every time

“Because I love you.” GAH. You can FEEL THE DESPERATION AND THE SADNESS

He just nailed the characterization he was going for good job man

[bloodpen-to-paper]

I've seen a lot of posts about Ambrosius fully believing that Ballister killed the Queen despite it being something Bal would never do, yet knew it wasn't him at the subway because of the hating freestyle jazz thing and... it kinda makes sense?

I can't put this super eloquently but its something about how the small details that you know about a person can be just as solidifying in how sure you are that you truly know them as the big actions. And while the Queen issue WAS unbelievable to Ambrosius, there's so many missing factors that could lead to Bal doing what he did, that might not necessarily say anything about him as a person (ex. he was coerced, he was threatened, etc). But to be unable to recognize Bal based on the small things he does would be to not have ever known him at all, because there's no reason to fake those small things unless you're trying to trick the person in front of you into thinking they know you. Ballister killing the Queen doesn't necessarily mean that their entire relationship was fake, or that Ambrosius never truly knew him. But to find out that all the small things Ambrosius knows about Bal, learned about him because he loves those small things, were faked... now THAT would be devastating.

[semataryyyy]

My Lyrics For Fuck The World Ft Hackle & Chief Keef

Fun Mound Fact: this was The first Song I Ever tried Fully freestyling Off the Dome was Recorded in 2 takes for Zac Ftp’s FTP RECORDS, Didn’t even Kno he was Gonna get sosa on It When i Recorded It in Feb or march 2023 ,, Proud of the Raw energy

really Proud of this Song One of my All time top life Moments to work With one of My Biggest Inspirations Ever. Thank U 2 Everyone who Supports Me & My Haunted Mound Boys

LYRICS:

Fuck the World Fuck the Population!

Them Haunted mound Boys pull up They gon Getcha

I rock True Religion but I don’t Fuck w No God

look at my Wrist Watch 💎 i’m pissed Off and i’m blinged up i got big sticks and i’m mounted up & The worlds gone so i’m Turnin up

Fuck it All I’m turnin Upppp

FTP mound Turnin up !!

Smokin on This fuckin rot

Ride arojnd still Fuck The Law

I’m the King of the Graveyard

Fuck The Population

Howdy Parter Keep My name Out Ya mouth!!!

For we have them Guyys Run up In ya House *RIP CAPO*

shawty say she wanna die Up in my whip

I’m w my Mound boys I’m creepin Out da Crypt

if i told you I loved you bitch I was High as Fuck

Ion listen 2 Her cus That bitch Dumb as Fuck

I brought a mother fucking spiked bat to the club

Mother fucker I buss Ya head swing and Duck!!

Ridin hearse Thang W my Iced Out brietling DANG!

Oxy Got me tearin Off My skin God DANG!

It’s always Ftp Cus Ion care About No thang

Ride off Hate & Gasoline What da Fuck U Mean?

fuck ya racks I burn em up

fuck your life i’ll shoot it up

cancer smoke i huff and puff

and light the fuse it blow ya up

we don’t like you mother fuckers you can kick rocks

i thought you knew it’s fuck the population

FTP FTP FTP FTP FTP

FUCK THE WHOLE WORLD & EVERYBODY IN IT

FTP FTP FTP FTP FTP

FUCK THE WHOLE WORLD & EVERYBODY IN IT

[t0asty1]

it was NOT a happy halloween. i had to walk for 3 hours and my mom threw away 70% of my candy because of food allergies and i took so much caffeine i could fight god and the devil and have a panic attack at the same time just so i could speedrun getting my assignment finished and submitted on time and then i took 5 sleeping pills to fight the caffeine and i think it made me high and i experienced emotions i didnt know existed. a spectrum of emotions equal to the spectrum of colors that shrimps can see.

HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🦇🐦‍⬛🐈‍⬛🎃👻🪦

[fellthemarvelous]

Fandom acting like Aziraphale is the Bad Guy for asking Crowley to become an angel again is something else. I'm not arguing that offering to turn him into an angel again was the right thing to do, but CONTEXT MATTERS!!

Things Crowley has canonically said about his fall:

"I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then… Oh, lookie here, it’s Lucifer and the guys. Oh, hey, the food hadn’t been that good lately. I didn’t have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I’m doing a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." (Aziraphale appeared to Crowley right after he said this so it's not outside of the realm of possibility that he found Crowley by following his voice in the first place.)

"I didn't mean to fall. I just hung around the wrong people."

"I didn't really fall. I just, you know, sauntered vaguely downwards." (Crowley says this to Aziraphale in the same scene he asks for holy water.)

Crowley was turned into a demon against his will.

Crowley hates being a demon too. It makes sense that Aziraphale would mistakenly believe that Crowley might accept the idea of becoming an angel again if what we were witnessing was Aziraphale being honest with Crowley in the final fifteen.

Again, I'm not saying he was right to ask that of Crowley, but let's not just decide that Aziraphale is a Bad Person for asking when he's witnessed ways in which Crowley has suffered as a demon.

There is indeed a lesson to be learned here, but why bring a little more context into the situation when it's just easier to villainize Aziraphale, am I right?

Yes, he was wrong to ask Crowley to become an angel again because it's not what Crowley wants. No, he's not a monster for offering. This is seriously all because of their stunning inability to communicate what it is they actually want.

Aziraphale has to break free from whatever hold Heaven still has on him, but he doesn't deserve to be treated like the Bad Guy.

It is entirely possible to criticize Aziraphale's actions without painting him as a monstrous abusive prick.

[stonedcoldfoxtarot]

5 Reasons You’re That Bitch

Something for the hotties and the secret hotties ft. lyrics by Megan the Stallion

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

Pile 1

7oS, Hierophant, Empress, 4oC, 7oP, AoS, QoS, 10oP rev, 10oW, 5oW (2oS)

Many of you are strategic and move in silence. Hoes mad, but you ain’t finna stop until you make it to tin-op and do all the things your haters say you could not (NDA)

You live life on your own terms. Don’t give a fuck about what a hatin’ ass bitch gotta say. Cause none of these hoes saying shit to your face and none of these hoes finna see you at the bank (Thot Shit)

Taken or single, men everywhere want you cause you’re a hot girl and you do hot shit. You make him spend his income on your outfit (Girls in the Hood)

You got a body-ody-ody that makes bitches wanna fight. They spend a lifetime tryna get this hot, but you not the one to play with, like a touch-me-not (Body)

You’re a savage, attitude nasty. Talk big shit but your bank account match it. Haters keep your name in their mouth, now they gaggin’ (Savage Remix ft. Beyonce)

Pile 2

Strength rev, Moon, 4oC, KoP rev, 5oC, Hermit, 4oW, 7oP, AoC, Magician (4oP)

You’re a certified freak, 7 days a week. Wet Ass P*ssy, make that pull out game weak. Some of you don’t cook and you don’t clean, but let you tell it, you got that ring (WAP)

You a real ass bitch, you know you got it lit. All year round it’s a hot girl summer, got a whole lot of options cause they know a bitch poppin’ (Hot Girl Summer ft. Nicki Minaj)

Every day you wake up paid and pretty. Bitches gotta come get their man before you put em in a trance. Cause you got that super nova..that grip, that choker (Cognac Queen)

Pile 2, you ‘bout your money, p*ssy out when you feelin’ real cunty. Men like you thick with the accent county, would sell their soul for a sniff of your undies (Tuned In Freestyle)

Fake ass bitches, fake ass hoes…you tint your windows and lock your doors. When you dip off everybody talking ‘bout a bitch “went ghost,” but, shit, that’s how you roll (Tina Snow Interlude)

Pile 3

KoW, 5oW, 7oP, 6oP, World, KoS, 3oS rev, AoS, Magician, Moon, KoP

Above all else you know your worth. You like all nice things and you like ice, bling-bing. You tell those boys ‘pipe up if you wanna pipe me’ (Pipe Up)

If a man fumbles you, it’s always his loss. You tell him ‘if you wanna leave then bye-bye-bye. I’m a big girl, so I won’t cry-cry-cry’ (Don’t Rock Me To Sleep)

You keep your hair did, nails did, everything did. You tell him ‘Get it for a bad bitch, spend it for a bad bitch. If you got some money, then trick on a bad bitch’. Pile 3 you a savage. Once you spend his money, you leave ‘em in the past tense (Sugar Baby)

Every time you pop out it gets scary for these hoes. You who every man’s wife fear, a thick-thighed nightmare. You the boogie-bitch, hoe, you every man’s type, yea (Scary ft. Rico Nasty)

Pile 3 you stay on your “Fuck you” shit, cause you done being nice. And when it comes to cuttin’ people off, you don’t ever think twice. Fuck it, bitch, you not nice (Not Nice)

Pile 4

Hanged Man rev, 8oP, Hierophant, 5oC, 2oP, Emperor, KoC, 5oS, Fool, AoC, Magician (8oW)

Might have had some setbacks but that was the past. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout shit, money good. Cause you been out here grindin’ like you ain’t ate, while these hoes bringing nothing to the table but their plate (Money Good)

Pile 4, you have expensive tastes, only men who hate on you are the ones that can’t afford you. This is a motherfuckin’ broke male warning (Warning)

Bitches don’t like you ‘cause you cocky, well you cannot help that your sexy sell and you’re in love with your sexy self. You need a boo that’s gon’ sex you well (Bless The Booth Freestyle)

Pile 4, you’re all that and a bag of flamin’ hot chips. You a hot girl so talk yo shit (Flamin’ Hottie)

And you couldn’t care less if these bitches don’t like you, cause, like, you’re pretty as fuck. With a face like this and a bitch this paid, shit, what could a hoe say? (Her)

Thanks for reading🔮✨

© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.

[pokemonvillainadventures]

💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴

Guzma x Burnt Out Reader

💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴

When Burn Out Strikes, Take a Stroll Why Dontcha?

----------------------------------------------

"Auuuugghhhh"

The loud disgruntled moans soon followed by the antsy shaking of your body indicated one thing. You were bored out of your ass. On days you had missions being a Team Skull Grunt was loads of fun. Well if you consider beating up the locals and running from the law as a means of a good time. However, on any other given day, sitting in your shared room, as the rain continues to pour outside as it always did, boredom would come back to haunt you.

Plenty of other grunts would share the feeling and thus over time the grunts would eventually come up with their own "boredom busters" to help pass the time. "Sleeping" and "eating" were the first ideas to be tact onto this unwritten list. A true testament to the sheer creativity that oozes out of these teens and young adults alike. When those ideas came and went, to no ones surprise, more "adventurous" ideas entered the scene.

Laying on your bed your roommates would soon notice your fidgeting body. And so ideas would be thrown around left and right to try and help you overcome todays trial of restlessness.

A young pink haired female grunt would chime in "You could always spray the far left side of the left wall. There should be enough room for SOME piece if you don't mind gettin' a bit soaked."

It wasn't a bad idea per say. Spraying half of Alola in Team Skull parfaneilia was the only other thing you grunts did but a smack to the back of the pink grunts head would say otherwise.

The grunt who dished out the smack was a much older grunt with green spiked hair "No you dolt! That spot is already claimed by me!"

The pink haired grunt would bite back "Well I don't see your name on it!"

The green haired male would answer back annoyed "That would defeat the point of it being an empty spot! If I put my name on it then there's no room for anything else!"

"Not my problem" the pink haired grunt mumbled back

Well that idea was thrown out the window as the two grunts started to argue. Trying to drown out their pointless bickering some of the other grunts would try to pitch in their own ideas. Each one worse than the last.

Freestyle rapping, freestyle dancing, trying to beat up trainers for fun, stealing, stealing nanu's shit, tagging nanu's building, backfliping off the side of the building, attempted parkor.

No. No! NO!

"Auuuuuuughhhhhhh!"

You appreciated the efforts. You did! You truly did, but was there anything that you could do that didn't either land you in the PokeCenter or the Slammers?

Feeling your frustration boil over you made the decision to throw in the towel and realize that todays boredom had conquered you. Tossing your blankets aside and hoisting yourself off the rickety mattress your footsteps pounded throughout the mansion. Some of the grunts even mistook you for the boss with the sheer force your feet were hitting the floor and quickly got out of the way.

Making your way down the stairs and out the door, light rain washed over your body as you plant your behind on the mansion steps.

Your Partner Pokemon shakes in your pocket before bursting out to try and comfort it's trainer. Your lovely little mareep, a cutie but a fighter as well. She lays across your lap, she was the runt of the litter and was told she would never make it. You hated how little your family saw in her, so much so that she's partially the reason why your currently soaking out in Po Towns rain. Still her floofy warm fur was a nice comfort when days seemed grey and dull and today was no different. Brushing her floof and staring up into the bleak rainy sky the boredom never truly left. Was it always going to be like this? Lagging days after lagging days? Missions being your only means of dopamine that fade in an instant the minute you step back into these empty walls?

Okay . . . so maybe you're being a bit overdramatic.

Okay maybe a LOT overdramtic.

Boredom doesn't mean the end of the world  but . . . auuughhhhhh!!

With mareep in your lap and the cool concrete engulfing your back you hadn't even noticed the hulking figure hovering above you.

"So ya gonna keep sulking like a kid on time out or are ya gonna get off your ass and do something?"

Fixating your gaze you look upon the figure and saw none other than your Boss and Leader, Guzma.

If your eyes could roll to the back of your head. "What's it to ya? Is boredam a crime here?"

Shaking off your blatant attitude Guzma steps down and into the rain, he tries to get a cigarette going with minimal success.

"Tsk . . fine keep pouting like that and looking all miserable and see how far that takes you."

Sitting upright you look at the man currently trying to offer you some "guidance" if you'd call it that. His smoking wasn't something you were going to start picking up to try and pass the time. But sitting in silence to internally curse out the world wasn't all that helpful either.

"You doin' good?"

"Huh?"

"You're lookin' tired there, and I know for damn sure it isn't just about bein' bored."

Well he wasn't entirely off. You are consideried to be one of the better grunts. Always trying to do what your told and stand out from the rest. Maybe it's because a part of you believed that you'd receive some sort of grace instead finding out that your reward was days of boredom if you weren't out there disturbing Alola's peace. Day by day you overworked yourself to the bone and for what? Well old habits die hard. You wished you could feel relaxed knowing you've done the bare minimum. Though, if you weren't working till you burned out then we're working hard enough? Maybe that's why you were so hard on yourself when boredom struck. Sitting on your ass when you could be doing something, anything, was enough to get your heart a racin'!

"*under his breath* ah for fuck's sake. *Outloud* Aight' come walk with me." Guzma's voice broke through, causing you to jump a bit in your spot.

"Huh? Why?"

"That wasn't a question. Now move it or stay soaked."

Following behind the two of you pass through Po Towns walls and into the outside world. The rain leaving itself behind while the sun peaked behind grey clouds. You had no idea where he was taking you until your eyes spotted a familiar red meadow. Your gaze looked upon the sea of flowers and, besides two trainers battling in the distance, Ula'Ula Meadows was practically empty.

The whole scene seemed sureal. You didn't take Guzma as the type to want to stroll around a garden for relaxation.

"Okay Grandpa I see you. I see you. Damn whats next on the list. Bingo with Grandma Plums?"

Feeling the smack of his hand on your neck you still notice the small smile through that tough guy demeanor.

"Knock it off. . I just come here sometimes when I run out of shit to throw at my wall. And what's with the grandma comment. You know imma tell her you said that and let's see how well that turns out for you." Looking at you with a smirk running across his face Guzma starts to sit down onto the wooden walkway as the sunsets in the distance.

You follow suit and allow for your mareep to run free through the folliage. Still in the back of your mind this whole thing felt so . . . so . relaxing, not at all what you were used to back in the shady house.

"Look . . I get it. Sometimes a couple drinks or pounding fists at the wall doesn't give you that instant release you're searching for. . so if you want you can always come out here to cool off."

"Seriously?" You look up at him curiously.

"*Blushing* Well yeah? . .*He rubs the back of his head* . . . not like being a part of this team means your my damn prisoner. *Tsk* but don't take this as an opportunity to ditch out on any of your duties here got that!"

You giggle softly. That's the Guzma you know and look up to. Relaxing a bit in your seat you watch as your Mareep frolics happily with a few wild Oricorio. Everything felt a peace for once.

"Sorry for making fun if you for this. . . It's really nice actually. Thank you."

Guzma turns his attention away. Your kind words can't stop him from blushing harder. Some would tease him for this. This place apparently isn't the only thing that makes Guzma feel comfortable. Guzma only pats your head in return as the two of you watch light of the sun fade into the deep blue in the distance as the moon rises to take it's place as the watcher of the night.

🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢🦴💢

[twink-gods-and-olive-oil]

But the angst in Nimona? The protagonist accused of being a villain, fleeing from the authorities and his boyfriend leading the knights in pursuit of him?

And the fact that he manages to find him because he knows him so well? "He hates freestyle jazz'. I mean, I mean... this thing of people who love each other being forced to be on different sides is something unnatural and so absurd. Of course it's the people who love us who are the most dangerous, of course he's the one who finds him first.

It was heartbreaking to see them doubting each other. Don't you love me any more? Do you really think about what people say? Aren't you the person I thought I knew? aaaaaaa 💔💔💔

[guitarstringed-scars]

cantaloupe island

masterlist

chapter 2- red clay

as you walk onto the small, makeshift stage you feel completely at home. the restaurant is packed, and you spot familiar faces crowded around. a professor from university, friends, family members, and other acquaintances. you see people you don't know, but you know that they must be here because of their appreciation of the music. well, except for one. one who had introduced himself as atsumu miya.

“oh, my twin brother owns the place, i’m just here to help out. i hate jazz.” he had said after you asked him why he looked so familiar. he approached you as you talked to koutaro, just looking for a pre-show snack. you were very surprised about his jazz comment, obviously you weren’t just expecting him to know who you are exactly, but so openly hating on jazz at a jazz performance seemed ballsy. almost idiotic even.

you see him in the crowd now, talking to koutaro, looking completely embarrassed. red-faced with his hands waving around, and you can only assume he’s talking about what happened moments prior. you turn your attention back to the rest of the audience as you take your seat on the piano bench.

the fallboard is already open, and you lightly run your fingers over the keys before cracking your knuckles. you stretch your back as kuroo addresses the audience. he has his alto saxophone resting across his chest as he clutches the microphone.

“hello, good evening.” he speaks into the microphone, testing it. it’s working. “hope you are all enjoying the food so far, but it’s time to get started with some music. we are the osaka quintet, a jazz group based here in town. we’ve got a great set planned out for you tonight, but i want to introduce the band first!”

the audience claps as kuroo takes a pause, the whole room is listening intently to what he says, sitting on the edge of their seats and hanging onto every word. you catch a glimpse of atsumu out of the corner of your eye, hes gone quiet, and is now surprisingly listening carefully to what kuroo says. hes not looking at kuroo though, hes looking at you. you quickly look back to the piano keys.

“i’m tetsuro kuroo, i’ll be playing all kinds of saxophone tonight, this is hitoka yachi,” he gestures to her and she waves with her free hand. its a quick, nervous wave. “she’ll be on the trumpet… we’ve got keiji akaashi on bass,” a loud whoop goes up from koutaros corner of the room. you laugh a bit. “hajime iwazumi on drums, and the ever so talented y/n l/n on the piano!” you play a quick piano lick as the crowd applauds.

“we’re gonna start you off with a classic standard, red clay by freddie hubbard.” kuroo finishes with a smile before starting off the song.

every one of you freestyles at the beginning, before kuroo gives a nod. you all fall out except for iwazumi, who starts it off again. akaashi joins him after a bit. then it’s your turn. you focus in, making sure to hit every note perfectly. your eyes subconsciously flutter closed as yachi and kuroo join the rythum. the crowd is almost silent, you can tell they are all intently listening.

as the solo section approaches, you quickly take it away first, communicating with the rest of the quintet through intense eye contact. you’ve played this song many times before, as kuroo said, its a classic standard. your highschool jazz band wanted to play this song every performance, and you knew with the osaka quintet, all of you would know how to play the song.

during your solo, you focus in on the drum beat that iwa is playing. you lock your eyes on his right hand, watching it hit each beat. each note you play hangs in the air as the audience seems to breath it in.

as you come to the end of your solo, you lock eyes on kuroo. it’s his turn to take over. you fall back, taking a breath as kuroo starts his solo.

as the solo section comes to an end, the group all focuses, finishing off the song. you laugh, hitting the final notes. the audience whoops and cheers, as yachi and kuroo sip their waters. you look into the audience again, spotting atsumu. your eyes can’t seem to stop looking at him. he’s smiling, chatting with his brother. you hope he is coming around to liking jazz.

“alright, next up is night in tunisia!” kuroo announces.

fun facts:

-bokuto and y/n are like best friends but they never talk or set up plans with each other

-akaashi hates soloing, but surprisingly yachi loves it

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