#low key i want to imagine that at least one of them actually is iggy's

[ohdaim]

prompt - neighbors

You caught a glimpse of him while checking your mail. He was a tall, dark line topped with tawny hair, and he left a citrus musk in his wake. Barely conscious, you’d only stepped out to get the mail while your coffee steeped. He’d moved in overnight just a week prior, and he hadn’t made a sound.

Scientia was written on his letterbox next to yours. It was in neat script, simple black letters on white, unlined paper. You’d done yours weeks ago when you’d first moved in and hadn’t gotten around to ever updating it with better handwriting. Next to his, your surname in sparkly gel pen looked a touch silly. Although, compared to the faded and cockled name cards on everyone else’s boxes, you both stood out spectacularly as obvious new tenants.

You shuffled through the mail on your way back in. Among the bills and junk was an unexpected weight. You’d ordered a package, but this didn’t seem to be right. It was a magazine, covered in a thin layer of navy blue plastic, and after turning it over, you were able to read the title, which was, as far as you could tell, the only part not obscured by the plastic.

PENTHOUSE

This was most definitely not yours. You unloaded everything else onto your kitchen table and turned the magazine over in your hands again. There, on a lower corner, you read Ignis Scientia.

“Ah.”

You put it aside, looking at it while you sipped on your coffee. It wasn’t as if you were actively looking for a reason to meet the guy. Considering what this was, you were even less enthralled by the idea of approaching him. I got your spank mag in my letterbox. Just watch porn online like everyone else.

Pouring yourself a second mug, you decided you’d pull the band-aid off once he got back from what you assumed was his job. It was only a dirty magazine, after all. You were both adults here.

Because he never made a sound, and you often lost yourself in your art--oil paintings for wealthy clients--you weren’t able to catch him again. Not even a glimpse in the early morning like that initial sighting.

But the magazines continued to come. You frowned at the pile that had accumulated on your kitchen table in just a week. Hustler, Playboy, something called Erotic Disrobing. You opened one--it had thrown you with its title, Beaver Hunt, which you shouldn’t, in retrospect, have trusted whatsoever--to see a large, perfectly rounded ass with the exquisite main cover line: MILFS that LOVE to be MILKED.

Judging from the Insomnian Bear and Playgirl that had come mid-week, you had to give it to your new neighbor; he had a vast range of sexual interests. He also had a huge problem. No healthy person needed this much pornography.

By the end of the week, you left a note taped to his front door, telling him to knock on yours when he had the time because you had his ‘important mail’. When another week passed with not so much as a word from him and another slew of adult magazines, you began to wonder if you were being pranked by the mail carrier. So unprofessional how they couldn’t seem to differentiate between your letterbox and Ignis’ when your name cards couldn’t have looked more different.

Deep in your focus on the current commission, you were jarred out of your thoughts by a loud noise from next door. It was followed by music, which fluctuated in volume from high to low to high again within the span of a minute. You left your painting, wiping your hands on a cloth as you made for the stack of magazines in your kitchen.

Absolute pervert Ignis Scientia was home. At fucking last.

You blew wisps of your hair out of your face while you waited for him to answer his door. Paint was still on your hands, and you were wearing the least flattering but most comfortable clothes you owned. A vague thought ran through your mind that you should’ve changed before coming over. Except no, you were holding an armload of dirty magazines. There was no saving this from being an awkward first encounter.

The door opened to a bearded man not wearing a shirt. You were sure this couldn’t have been the same person you’d caught a peek of in the morning sun weeks before.

Still, you asked, “Ignis Scientia?”

The man laughed, a gruff, deep sound that shook his broad chest. He looked over his shoulder and called out, “Iggy, you’ve got company.”

Waving you in, he backed away and waited. You were hesitant. Visiting wasn’t in the plan, but you couldn’t deny that you were curious about what was going on. The music was much louder inside the apartment. You passed the man, meeting eyes with another who looked away almost immediately, one hand coming up to card through his blonde hair while the other turned the music down a notch.

“Selling magazines or something?” The larger, shirtless man asked, going around you to drop himself onto the sofa next to a third man who seemed to have eyes only for his phone.

“No.” You looked for a place to put them down, but the coffee table was covered with snack foods and open drinks. “These were accidentally put in my mailbox. They say Ignis Scientia on them?”

It wasn’t meant to be a question, but the longer you stood in the living room with these three men, none of whom appearing to be the elusive Ignis Scientia, you were beginning to worry all of this was a wild fever dream.

“Yes, allow strangers into my flat while Noct is here.” A fourth man stepped through an archway from what you could see was his kitchen, looking from you to the man who’d let you in. “Excellent shield work, Gladio.”

The man on the sofa laughed with a shrug. “Seemed harmless. Look at ‘em. They’re cute, delivering your mail for you.”

“I’m not--” You sighed and faced Ignis to introduce yourself. It took you a moment to speak, caught off guard by the frank intensity of his gaze. “I live next door. These keep coming to my letterbox. Please take them.”

Green eyes flicking down from your face to the topmost magazine, he frowned. “Are you certain those are mine?”

You glanced down. Peeking out through a clear bit in the black plastic cover was the word Boudoir, half covered by the shiny, golden elbow of what you were certain was a naked woman.

“Look.” You lifted the stack in your arms. “Your name is right there.”

Ignis blinked, stepping closer to read the address sticker. His face began to redden. “I don’t subscribe to this sort of…”

You hefted the weight in your arms. “If you would, please.”

Finally, he took them, the red in his face deepening by the second.

“I opened one,” you said. “Just, um, out of curiosity.”

He didn’t respond, looking toward his friends. “Gladio, is this your doing?”

As if they hadn’t been listening, two of the men sitting around looked your way. The largest one came to a stand and closed the distance to swipe the uppermost magazine. Delayed surprise crossed his face, then he laughed.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Iggy.” He tore the plastic off and flipped through the pages. “So you’re into granny fetish stuff. Everybody’s got their thing.”

A scowl came to Ignis’ face. You didn’t like how good looking he actually was. You’d built up a very different image in your mind. For some reason, you’d thought he’d have a mustache. A creepy one. Instead, he looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine himself. Albeit one where the models wore much more clothing.

“Gladio, this is worse than the last time I moved.” His grip on the bottom of the stack tightened. “Can’t you have these sent to your own place?”

The larger man closed the magazine, his amusement softening. “Iris checks my mail sometimes. I’d just rather not deal with that.”

You stepped back, inching toward the exit. You’d done your job. They seemed absorbed into their own thing. Whatever party this was, your curiosity was sated. And you really didn’t care whose magazines they were. Only that they wouldn’t be in your mailbox anymore.

Your slow steps were halted when Ignis looked at you again.

“I apologize,” he said. “You were the one who left that note, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “You didn’t come by.”

He held the magazines out, and his friend took them, carrying them over to the sofa.

“I thought you were mistaken.” His face was the picture of mortification, his inner eyebrows arched together over his glasses. He held his gloved hands in loose fists at his sides. “Had I known that was what you were receiving, I would’ve put a stop to it.”

You waved him off, thrown by the entire situation. You wanted to get back to your painting. You wanted to think about this in the relative quiet of your apartment.

“Just make sure you have them sent to your box from now on. I don’t think I can handle seeing another--” You made a vague motion with your hands. “Yeah.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you do. Again, my apologies.”

You left from there, beginning to grow embarrassed yourself. Just beyond the door, you heard him say with much less patience, “Thank you, now my neighbor thinks I’m a sexual deviant.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

The door closed, muting the conversation and following laughter. You waffled for a moment, listening as the volume of the music raised again. Well. That was… something.

Back in your own apartment, you found it difficult to return to work. Not because of the music from next door or the unburdening of the magazines.

You cleaned your paint brushes, done for the night, and felt warmth bloom on your face. Pervert or not, Ignis had the kind of face you dreamt of painting.

“Now who’s the weirdo,” you laughed to yourself.

[jonsa101]

Season 2 Episode 1 Thoughts.

I still can’t get over the fact that they really had a slow mo sequence of Max and Helen seeing each other for the first time in awhile. I’m living for the angst that’s between these two! I definitely feel like the state of their awkward interaction last night is two fold. The “text” is that Max is upset that Helen left when he needed her the most. The “subtext” is that he also feels guilty about interacting with her because he had feelings for her before the accident. To me, this is probably one of the main reasons he doesn’t want to talk to her. I can’t wait to see how their relationship unfolds this season. It’s going to be very interesting to say the least because for the first time Max is the one who doesn’t want to open up and Helen is the one to pry! I’m very curious to see how they’re going to find their way back to each other this season.

Here my quick thoughts on everything else:

RIP Georgia. I’m not surprised. I fully expected this and new from the beginning that Max was imagining things. Truth be told, the episode was a little lackluster for me for this reason. I actually think I would have preferred having a full episode of things picking up from where they left off last season with episode 2 being the three month time jump. I would have been more emotionally invested seeing everyone in height emotional/chaotic state. That’s just my two cents.

Valentina, valentina, valentina!!!!! Y’all I wanted to slap her through my tv screen. I feel like boo boo the fool because I actually thought they were going to be partners in crime for Max this season. Lol! She is hella problematic but what I love is that Helen did not miss a beat once honey! Here’s to hoping that Helen reads her ass to pure filth one good time this upcoming season! I feel like we caught a glimpse of Helen’s “read” ability when Helen and Max had a little spat in episode 15 and she had to gather him real quick when he questioned her abilities. Fingers cross we get to see her truly READ someone!

I was low key surprised to see Reynolds and Evie going strong. I thought for sure that there would be some sort of fracture in their relationship because of Bloom but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. In fact, Bloom and Reynolds relationship looks like it’s been strongly put in the “friend zone.” Is the show committed to Reynolds and Evie? I’m honestly not so sure. Apparently Bloom is getting a love interest this season through her physical trainer. Will that break the camels back for Evie and Reynolds? Will seeing Bloom fall for someone else spark jealousy in Reynolds? We’ll see!

I am living for Sharpe and Bloom’s sisterhood blossoming! Other than Max and Helen this is the relationship I can’t wait to see grow this season! Their moment on the rooftop was so touching and I want to see more sweet moments between them! The show needs more sisterhood so I’m here for this!

I’m not a fan of the rift between Max and Hartman and I need the show to address it immediately. Georgia’s death is not Hartman’s fault! Everyone in their power did everything that they could to save Georgia that day and it just didn’t work out. I understand that Max is grieving but icing Hartman out is completely unfair! I hope this gets resolved quickly.

Iggy and Kapoor are still as amazing as ever. I’m still holding out for Max and Iggy to have therapy sessions this season. Max needs it. He needs to grieve properly and process things and who better to help him.

I love Reynold’s intern and I hope we see more of him. Reynolds has finally met his match! Also I love that we are seeing more of the secondary characters and the introduction of some new characters. It keeps the show interesting and keeps the audience on their toes.

I loved seeing baby Luna and the staff interacting with her. Here’s to hoping we see more cute Luna and staff moments (cough, cough Helen).

Last but not least I love that we get to see the staff in their homes. Please show me Helen Sharpe’s home stat!!

This was way longer than I expected. I’m so excited for episode 2 on Tuesday! What did you think of the season premiere and what do you want to see this season? Let me know your thoughts!

[trendingnewsb]

The Thots Of Your Instagram Feed Explained By Bratz Dolls

If there’s one thing we all know about so-called viral makeup trends, it’s that 90% of them are bullshit. Squiggly eyebrows? Show me one person who is actually doing that in public. Just ONE! The people demand receipts! That being said, the latest viral makeup trend that may have slightly more credibility involves doing your makeup to mirror a Bratz Doll, aka what Kylie Jenner does every damn day of her life. We all remember Bratz, the heavily made-up dolls with lip fillers no feet and the most extra looks imaginable. These dolls took the Betches “dress like a slut” philosophy and monetized it for children. The early 2000s really were something, eh? Basically, the Bratz were thots before Instagram launched thotism as we know it today. In hindsight, we can now see clearly that each Bratz doll corresponds to a very real and very special variety of thot who fills our feeds with her selfies daily. Here’s how each of them break down:

Chloe – The Wannabe Thot

Truly a special breed, Chloe—nicknamed “Angel” because she doesn’t get how nicknames work (see: Sami Sweetheart)—wants desperately to be a background vocalist on a local rapper’s mixtape, but is quite simply too white to function. She makes vague references in her Insta photos about being “hard” and her “struggles,” but you remember her from second grade and are pretty sure she grew up in the rich person suburb next to yours. Chloe’s biggest accomplishment are her contributions to thirst-trappery, where she is truly unmatched. Your feed is constantly filled with photos of herself that you are legally required to screenshot and send to your group chat with the text, “You can see her vagina in this, right?!?!” Occasionally, Chloe’s Instagram will go dark because too many people reported her account as porn, but she always comes back with a long screenshotted note directed at “haters” full of strange grammatical choices and vague references to how you “just gotta do you.”

Occupation: Aspiring Pop Star

Insta Bio: “All U Bitches Mad” – My new SiNgLe oUt NoW On SoUndCloud! Link In Bio<3 xoxoANGEL

Example: Iggy Azalea, Niykee Heaton

Jade – The International Thot

Jade, whose nickname is Kool Kat (again, not how nicknames work), wants you to know that she is the ho the phrase “hos in different area codes” is referring to. You keep following Jade mainly because you’re trying to figure out how a person who does not appear to have a job is constantly traveling to different countries. Your entire group chat has basically concluded she’s a high-end escort of some kind, but the rules of feminism state that you must continue to support her by liking her photos in hopes that one day she’ll invite you along on one of her journeys. You know she has at least one boyfriend who is a sultan because of the time she stayed in that spinning hotel in Dubai, and she appears to be on a mission to Instagram herself standing next to every luxury hotel pool on the planet. 20 years from now you’ll check back in on her and find out she’s in jail for smuggling cocaine in her butt and everything will make sense. 

Occupation: “Entrepreneur”

Insta Bio: They say a smile is the same in every language, well so is Resting Bitch Face<3 Jetsetter <3 Student of Fashion <3 HMU On WhatsApp

Example: Tila Tequila (Before she became an alt-right Nazi)

Yasmin – The Actually Successful Thot

Yasmin, nicknamed Pretty Princess (can someone put me in touch with a Bratz representative? we need to talk about nicknames…), doesn’t need the thot life for money or food or weight loss tea endorsements. Yasmin is a thot purely for the love of the game, and honestly, you kind of respect it. You started following Yasmin because you were fascinated by her ability to seemingly have erect nipples at all times, but you stayed after she requested you on LinkedIn and you realized she was a low-key successful businesswoman. Sheryl Sandberg by day, Ariel Winter by night, Yasmin’s account is private for a . Does she have her own line of lipsticks that makeup vloggers are raving about? Yes. Is that going to stop her from posting pics of herself in bed with captions like “Come find me ;)?” Hell the fuck no. Is Yasmin a feminist icon, or does her very existence set women back thousands of years? Unclear, but you’re not going to unfollow until you find out.

Occupation: CEO Of Yas Cosmetics

Insta Bio: Follow @yascosmetics for latest swatches! Get money, get paid. Real friends only. Not accepting new follow requests.

Example: Kylie Jenner

Sasha – The Batshit Crazy Thot

You don’t know Sasha IRL, but you are legitimately concerned for her safety. Every other week, Sasha appears to be embroiled in some kind of major crisis, and she has no qualms about sharing every detail of those crises on social media. Bless her heart. There was the time she was moonlighting at a Florida strip club and a loose dog bit her on the leg (“Please donate to my GoFundMe surgery page y’all! My foot is fucked!”). There was the time her ex boyfriend Snoop Dogg (different Snoop Dogg) crushed her apartment with a helicopter (“Venmo me @Sasha2Fierce2Furious y’all! My roof is fucked!). And, of course, there was the time she didn’t post for a few weeks and you were sure she was dead but then her Insta story revealed she just trapped on a boat (Tweet my whereabouts using #FindSasha! Where tf am I?!?! Our navigation tools are fucked!”). Sasha’s life is a beautiful human train wreck, and you have no choice but to follow obsessively and hope you can make it to her funeral. It’ll probably be lit. 

BTW, her nickname is apparently “Bunny Boo” and I’m calling the police. 

Occupation: “Dancer”

Insta Bio: Bitches Ain’t Shitttttt – http://ift.tt/2wWdJwk to help me find my son!!! where tf is he!?!?

Example: Blac Chyna

Raya – The Religious Thot

Raya, aka Sun Rayz (kill me), was the fifth Bratz doll added to the pack, mainly because she was a full-fledged Christian before that point. Raya was raised in the light of the Lord, but after a fashion-internship-turned-stint-on- took her to New York, Raya has converted to the Church Of Thotism and she is never looking back. But don’t worry, Raya has not fully turned her back on Jesus. Each of her selfies, cleavage pics, and thirst traps are accompanied by a caption like, “God is great!” or “Living in HIS light<3” and she is not above just straight-up posting a Bible verse from time to time. How she reconciles her thot lifestyle with her love of Christ, you’re not sure, but photos of herself at Sunday service in a bodysuit tell you she’s doing just fine. One day she’ll scrub her entire Insta presence and return with an entirely new persona after marrying a secretly gay pastor and popping out a baby named Zion or Abraham or some shit. She’ll act like everyone has forgotten her former thot life, but you have the screenshots to prove it.

Occupation: Homemaker

Insta Bio: The Lord Has Plans For This One Right Here <3, Christian, Future Mommy, 32D

Example: Raven Gates 

 Read more: http://ift.tt/2wVB7Kw

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2xEUb3i via Viral News HQ

[joronomo]

Is Your Child a Poser? Learn the Four Major Warning Signs

New Post has been published on https://joronomo.com/is-your-child-a-poser-learn-the-four-major-warning-signs/

Is Your Child a Poser? Learn the Four Major Warning Signs

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push();

It goes without saying: no one wants to raise a poser. Imagine having to tell everyone on your Christmas card list that Eriickka cried when she got her ears pierced and thinks Good Charlotte basically invented punk.

It’s impossible for a parent, especially one who’s working full time, to monitor a child’s behavior 24/7—nor should you attempt to. Overbearing parents are the #3 cause of poser conversion. However, you should remain vigilant to certain signs so this epidemic doesn’t affect your family’s welfare.

1. Dumbass Aesthetic Choices

The most obvious sign is your child’s changing wardrobe. One day they have no issues wearing Kohl’s sale items or whatever hand-me-downs were salvageable, the next they’ll only don fingerless gloves and the tackiest novelty tees imaginable. They draw on themselves with a Sharpie but don’t have the guts to get inked – or find a tattoo artist willing to work on a minor.

Undoubtedly the biggest red flag in this scenario is your child becoming a frequent Hot Topic customer. The occasional purchase is nothing to worry about—who among us didn’t dabble?—but regular visits signal a serious problem. Take them to an Army Navy surplus store or the dumpster behind a local retailer. From there, let them pick out whatever they want. Any studded belts they didn’t steal or make themselves should soon disappear.

2. Shitty Music Taste

This sign is a crucial yet controversial one. Taste is subjective and we all have guilty sonic pleasures. Nevertheless, music is the #1 indicator that your child might be backsliding into poserdom.

So what kinds of music deserve closest monitoring?

First, terrible pop punk bands like Simple Plan, the aforementioned Good Charlotte, and 5 Seconds of Summer. It’s important to distinguish between such slop and REAL pop punk, like Descendants, NOFX, and Dookie-era Green Day. Nu metal is also tricky, as amidst the strained screaming and dissonant, sludge-like riffs are actual songs. A good rule of thumb: if your child attends concerts in which they scream about hating their parents after you:

Bought them tickets

Transported them to the venue

Chaperoned them at said venue

…then you’ve got trouble.

Increased exposure to classic punk rock should suffice, so fire up London Calling on vinyl and prepare to explain what a “pork pie hat” is.

3. Half-Hearted Experimentation with Substances

The more hardcore poser-types might chug Robitussin and trip in their bedrooms. Or perhaps take four aspirin after being disciplined and claim a suicide attempt. But most behaviors in this category are typical of adolescents curious about substances: raiding the liquor cabinet and puking, smoking weed improperly and getting “super high” due to the placebo effect, snorting nutmeg because they’re dumb enough to reenact Dateline reports – despite the phrasing, these scenarios are positive.

Braiyden’s reticence to do hard drugs renders him forever exiled to Poser City, but you can relax knowing he won’t develop a chemical dependency—or fatally overdose. It’s hard to brag about a dead kid when it was your responsibility to keep him breathing.

4. A Façade That Crumbles When Challenged

We’ve arrived at the most viscerally irritating sign: a hard exterior that’s completely undermined by a soft, overly emotional center. From Iggy Pop cutting his chest with glass to Donita Sparks flinging her used tampon at a restless audience, your child has many icons of punk attitude to emulate. But without any basis for this attitude, it manifests in lil’ bitch-ass ways, like changing the family computer’s home screen to goatse and replacing “I love you” with “Fuck off!” in their vocabulary.

Though annoying, such a persona crumbles when challenged. Your child will still cry after being grounded and hide their report cards from you. They’ll enlist older siblings to engage in physical fights on their behalf. In response, martial arts classes—where they’ll get their ass beat in an educational, useful way—should do the trick.

*  *  *

If your child consistently exhibits at least two of these behaviors, their punk credibility is in danger – or else, you’ve got a square kid on your hands (a subject for another article).

But all is not lost. Once detected, the onset of poserdom can be slowed or stopped altogether. Subject your child to peer harassment in a secure environment with at least one cool adult supervising. We’re talking low-key bullying that builds character, not full-on torment that inspires Lifetime movies. It’s best to not personally supervise as kids have trouble being truly kickass around their parents.

It’s painful to watch your child struggle, but blindly enabling a lack of coolness is irresponsible. Take every measure possible to protect your family from the humiliating poser lifestyle.

<![CDATA[.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumbbackground: !important;-webkit-transition:background 0.2s linear;-moz-transition:background 0.2s linear;-o-transition:background 0.2s linear;transition:background 0.2s linear;;color:!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumb:hoverbackground: !important;-webkit-transition:background 0.2s linear;-moz-transition:background 0.2s linear;-o-transition:background 0.2s linear;transition:background 0.2s linear;;color:!important.yuzo_related_post .yuzo_text, .yuzo_related_post .yuzo_views_postcolor:!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumb:hover .yuzo_text, .yuzo_related_post:hover .yuzo_views_postcolor:!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumb acolor:#f2132d!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumb a:hovercolor:#f2132d!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumb:hover acolor:#f2132d!important.yuzo_related_post .relatedthumbmargin:0px 0px 0px 0px;padding:5px 5px 5px 5px]]>

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push(); Source link

[trendingnewsb]

The Thots Of Your Instagram Feed Explained By Bratz Dolls

If there’s one thing we all know about so-called viral makeup trends, it’s that 90% of them are bullshit. Squiggly eyebrows? Show me one person who is actually doing that in public. Just ONE! The people demand receipts! That being said, the latest viral makeup trend that may have slightly more credibility involves doing your makeup to mirror a Bratz Doll, aka what Kylie Jenner does every damn day of her life. We all remember Bratz, the heavily made-up dolls with lip fillers no feet and the most extra looks imaginable. These dolls took the Betches “dress like a slut” philosophy and monetized it for children. The early 2000s really were something, eh? Basically, the Bratz were thots before Instagram launched thotism as we know it today. In hindsight, we can now see clearly that each Bratz doll corresponds to a very real and very special variety of thot who fills our feeds with her selfies daily. Here’s how each of them break down:

Chloe – The Wannabe Thot

Truly a special breed, Chloe—nicknamed “Angel” because she doesn’t get how nicknames work (see: Sami Sweetheart)—wants desperately to be a background vocalist on a local rapper’s mixtape, but is quite simply too white to function. She makes vague references in her Insta photos about being “hard” and her “struggles,” but you remember her from second grade and are pretty sure she grew up in the rich person suburb next to yours. Chloe’s biggest accomplishment are her contributions to thirst-trappery, where she is truly unmatched. Your feed is constantly filled with photos of herself that you are legally required to screenshot and send to your group chat with the text, “You can see her vagina in this, right?!?!” Occasionally, Chloe’s Instagram will go dark because too many people reported her account as porn, but she always comes back with a long screenshotted note directed at “haters” full of strange grammatical choices and vague references to how you “just gotta do you.”

Occupation: Aspiring Pop Star

Insta Bio: “All U Bitches Mad” – My new SiNgLe oUt NoW On SoUndCloud! Link In Bio<3 xoxoANGEL

Example: Iggy Azalea, Niykee Heaton

Jade – The International Thot

Jade, whose nickname is Kool Kat (again, not how nicknames work), wants you to know that she is the ho the phrase “hos in different area codes” is referring to. You keep following Jade mainly because you’re trying to figure out how a person who does not appear to have a job is constantly traveling to different countries. Your entire group chat has basically concluded she’s a high-end escort of some kind, but the rules of feminism state that you must continue to support her by liking her photos in hopes that one day she’ll invite you along on one of her journeys. You know she has at least one boyfriend who is a sultan because of the time she stayed in that spinning hotel in Dubai, and she appears to be on a mission to Instagram herself standing next to every luxury hotel pool on the planet. 20 years from now you’ll check back in on her and find out she’s in jail for smuggling cocaine in her butt and everything will make sense. 

Occupation: “Entrepreneur”

Insta Bio: They say a smile is the same in every language, well so is Resting Bitch Face<3 Jetsetter <3 Student of Fashion <3 HMU On WhatsApp

Example: Tila Tequila (Before she became an alt-right Nazi)

Yasmin – The Actually Successful Thot

Yasmin, nicknamed Pretty Princess (can someone put me in touch with a Bratz representative? we need to talk about nicknames…), doesn’t need the thot life for money or food or weight loss tea endorsements. Yasmin is a thot purely for the love of the game, and honestly, you kind of respect it. You started following Yasmin because you were fascinated by her ability to seemingly have erect nipples at all times, but you stayed after she requested you on LinkedIn and you realized she was a low-key successful businesswoman. Sheryl Sandberg by day, Ariel Winter by night, Yasmin’s account is private for a . Does she have her own line of lipsticks that makeup vloggers are raving about? Yes. Is that going to stop her from posting pics of herself in bed with captions like “Come find me ;)?” Hell the fuck no. Is Yasmin a feminist icon, or does her very existence set women back thousands of years? Unclear, but you’re not going to unfollow until you find out.

Occupation: CEO Of Yas Cosmetics

Insta Bio: Follow @yascosmetics for latest swatches! Get money, get paid. Real friends only. Not accepting new follow requests.

Example: Kylie Jenner

Sasha – The Batshit Crazy Thot

You don’t know Sasha IRL, but you are legitimately concerned for her safety. Every other week, Sasha appears to be embroiled in some kind of major crisis, and she has no qualms about sharing every detail of those crises on social media. Bless her heart. There was the time she was moonlighting at a Florida strip club and a loose dog bit her on the leg (“Please donate to my GoFundMe surgery page y’all! My foot is fucked!”). There was the time her ex boyfriend Snoop Dogg (different Snoop Dogg) crushed her apartment with a helicopter (“Venmo me @Sasha2Fierce2Furious y’all! My roof is fucked!). And, of course, there was the time she didn’t post for a few weeks and you were sure she was dead but then her Insta story revealed she just trapped on a boat (Tweet my whereabouts using #FindSasha! Where tf am I?!?! Our navigation tools are fucked!”). Sasha’s life is a beautiful human train wreck, and you have no choice but to follow obsessively and hope you can make it to her funeral. It’ll probably be lit. 

BTW, her nickname is apparently “Bunny Boo” and I’m calling the police. 

Occupation: “Dancer”

Insta Bio: Bitches Ain’t Shitttttt – http://ift.tt/2wWdJwk to help me find my son!!! where tf is he!?!?

Example: Blac Chyna

Raya – The Religious Thot

Raya, aka Sun Rayz (kill me), was the fifth Bratz doll added to the pack, mainly because she was a full-fledged Christian before that point. Raya was raised in the light of the Lord, but after a fashion-internship-turned-stint-on- took her to New York, Raya has converted to the Church Of Thotism and she is never looking back. But don’t worry, Raya has not fully turned her back on Jesus. Each of her selfies, cleavage pics, and thirst traps are accompanied by a caption like, “God is great!” or “Living in HIS light<3” and she is not above just straight-up posting a Bible verse from time to time. How she reconciles her thot lifestyle with her love of Christ, you’re not sure, but photos of herself at Sunday service in a bodysuit tell you she’s doing just fine. One day she’ll scrub her entire Insta presence and return with an entirely new persona after marrying a secretly gay pastor and popping out a baby named Zion or Abraham or some shit. She’ll act like everyone has forgotten her former thot life, but you have the screenshots to prove it.

Occupation: Homemaker

Insta Bio: The Lord Has Plans For This One Right Here <3, Christian, Future Mommy, 32D

Example: Raven Gates 

 Read more: http://ift.tt/2wVB7Kw

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2xEUb3i via Viral News HQ