#signature chimpanzee
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The Easter Eggs in [ Doraemon the Movie : Nobita and the New Steel Troops : ~Winged Angels~ ]
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The Ramen Eater , Koike-san
A supporting character in the Doraemon story that we are familiar with his signature ramen eating scene. His name is "Koike-san" (小池さん)
He sometimes appears in [Q-Taro The Ghost] and is a teacher in [Ninja Hattori].
The prototype for this character is Shinichi Suzuki (鈴木伸一) , a friend of Fujiko Fujio and a member of the famous cartoonist dormitory, Tokiwa Dormitory. He really likes to eat ramen.
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The Chimpanzee wears a helmet that looks similar to "Booby (ブービー)" in Perman
Well.. I don't know much about this character since I've never watched [Perman] before.
I'm not so sure but I think it's a parody of him.
**If there is any incorrect information, I apologize**
#doraemon#doraemon the movie : nobita and the new steel troops : ~winged angels~#easter eggs#supermarket scene
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....... ALSO.
he likes when i compliment his voice I REALLY DO LOVE IT THOUGH. when i say youve been blessed by the tessie gods i REALLY mean that, genuinely. love when yr telling me about yr day, love when yr making absolutely bizarre autistic noises, love when you sing . YOU ARE SILLY!!!!!!!! ive genuinely. no i just LIKE YOU okay. me when i like you? me when i enjoy my best friend??? listened to those fucking stupid DUMB VOICE MESSAGES YOU SENT LIKE. ON LOOP.. to hear yr terrible awful jokes yes but also to hear yr laughter??? LIKE I WAS. TEEEHEHEEH... JOY. WHIMSY EVEN
i still will never forget that time she screamed exactly like a chimpanzee ripping someones face off during namielle fight that genuinely is one of the best moments of my life im. I PUT THAT MEMORY IN AFUCKING PICTURE FRAME AND REPLAY IT ALL THE TIME its so good. i like her voice too!!!!!! even when shes breaking the sound barrier SHES. I HAVE THE SILLIEST FRIENDS IN THE WORLD FOR REAL/??? plus shes always saying the craziest shit like the way she'll go from dumb little termite to spitting poetry completely unprompted, like AWARD WINNING POETRY. LIFE CHANGING POETRY and then shes back to bug.
theyre both so talented too like. i wonder if i tell them that enough? I HOPE I DO BUT.. no im so. IM YR BIGGEST FAN ALRIGHT ill always be here rooting for you cuz THEYRE SO GOOD AT WHAT THEY DO... fantastic art, fantastic writing, mans playing the trumpet!!!!!!!!!!!! also the way he just talks about like. MUSIC THINGS TO ME, i dont understand a lot of it but i still love to listen so much like. YES SIR!!! 5/4 TIME SIGNATURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! do i know what this means, NO !!! but i still think its cute to listen to. AUTISM is always condoned here. the way shes always coming up with shit, i genuinely. i dont give a SHIT about that game at a base level, all of my appreciation comes from the shit shes come up with ITS THE ONLY THING PUSHING ME FORWARD...... so smart genuinely like. im fascinated by it i want to inspect her under a microscope (short joke) HOW ARE YOU LKE THIS... she just keeps creating and creating and its SO. endearing i love how they just create things all the time really i cant get enough IT MAKES ME SO PROUD TO SEE ANY OF IT.. guys please keep being you forever and always, even if you never see this PLEASEE keep shining okay you are so . good isnt a strong enough word, wonderful maybe.. everything!!!!! you are everything
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obsessive compulsive disorder got hands. i'm in tears and i sent my mom a long text confessing and telling her how sorry i am because i remembered a time when i was young and she got me a webkinz signature chimpanzee and i didnt appreciate it and play with it enough and i think i asked for it to be exchanged. that plush was so thoughtful because webkinz was my everything and the signature ones were a lot more expensive and ive ALWAYS loved chimpanzees so i dont know what was going on in my head to make me so disrespectful and ungrateful but i feel so horribly guilty i'm gonna cry. this is like a time when i was ~4 and we went to build a bear because my mom got their newsletter and i wanted the new chococat but we accidentally came a few days before chococat came out so my mom asked me if i wanted a stuffed animal now or if i wanted to wait for chococat and i was a little impatient 4 year old so i said now and i got a dog that i didnt really care for and a few days later i told her and we took it back to build a bear and they put it in their toy donation box and i DID end up getting chococat whom i still have and love and associate with nothing but happiness but i still feel awful that i didn't love that dog plush enough and i made my mom buy and then return it. i cried and apologized to her about it a few years ago and she told me she didnt even remember it and no matter what she wasnt mad at me but i still feel like in both of these instances i wasnt appreciating her and everything she did for me and i was also being very ungrateful, hurtful, and disrespectful to the stuffed animals themselves. if i was catholic this would be easier cus i could punish myself repent and move on but i have to live with the guilt. ahhhhhh
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I would love to be assigned a webkinz ♡
I work at a nature preserve and one time I accidentally sent a child down the river in a kayak with no paddle (He was a very good sport about it though). Also once spent 3 hours with my family trying to catch and rescue an abandoned guinea pig that someone left there! (We got him his name is Pumpkin and he's very spoiled)
You remind me of the signature chimpanzee!! curious and outdoorsy :)
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Name: Panbit Name Etymology: Portmanteau of Pan (The Genus of chimpanzees) and (Little) Bit Classification: Plain Monkey Pokemon Type: Normal Evolution Method: Evolves with High Friendship and into Pansage whilst holding the Miracle Seed, Into Pansear whilst holding a Charcoal, into Panpour whilst holding the Mystic Water, and into Pansurge whilst holding the Magnet. Ability: Gluttony Hidden Ability: Basic (Powers up Normal type moves when the Pokemon's HP is low.) Flavour Text: Full of potential, this Pokemon often finds itself at odds when deciding how to evolve. It eats berries to calm it's nerves
Name: Pansurge Name Etymology: Portmanteau of Pan (The Genus of chimpanzees) and Surge Classification: Electric Monkey Pokemon Type: Electric Evolution Method: Evolves from Panbit with High Friendship whilst holding a Magnet and and into Simisurge with a Thunderstone Ability: Gluttony Hidden Ability: Overload (Powers up Electric type moves when the Pokemon's HP is low.) Flavour Text: The electricity hidden in it's head tuft can be used to power electronics. If a Trainer is missing a charger, that electricty does just fine.
Name: Simisurge Name Etymology: Portmanteau of Simian and Surge Classification: Electric Monkey Pokemon Type: Electric Evolution Method: Evolves from Pansurge with a Thunderstone Ability: Gluttony Hidden Ability: Overload (Powers up Electric type moves when the Pokemon's HP is low.) Flavour Text: It lets loose high volts of electricity from it's tail. It likes to live on tall mountains where they get easier access to thunderstorms.
Electric Pledge Elelctric Special 80 BP / 100 Acc / 10 PP A bolt of electricity hits the target. When used with its grass counterpart, this move's power is boosted and the opponent is burnt.
Electric Pledge→ Fire Pledge: Lowers the Accuracy of the opponents Electric Pledge→ Water Pledge: Increases the damage done to the opponents by 1.5 Electric Pledge→ Grass Pledge: Burns the opponents Fire Pledge → Electric Pledge: Lowers the Accuracy of the opponents Water Pledge → Electric Pledge: Increases the damage done to the opponents by 1.5 Grass Pledge → Electric Pledge: Burns the opponents
(I rarely do Hidden Abilities but these were so easy I figured why not. And Electric Pledge is not a Signature Move [Pikachu can learn it too] so it's not included in the image.)
#pokemon#fakemon#fake pokemon#electric type#elemental monkey#baby pokemon#cross gen evolution#vhendia
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signature chimpanzee for anon!
#webkinz#kinzblr#clean art#chimp#signature chimpanzee#chimpanzee#/drawing chimps is.. hard JFDJDFFHJ i tried#also i thought they would look cute in a sunhat to match their dress :]#webkinz classic
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Outfit of the Day: Mikey Kong’s Tropical Look™
A versatile outfit whether you’re in the mood for some pineapple, want to take a midday flight, or go for a dip in the ocean.
#webkinz#Mikey Kong#my pets#outfit of the day#webkinz game#webkinz outfit#small signature chimpanzee#tropical
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Communication of Chimpanzees
Communication of Chimpanzees
When it comes to staying in touch with friends , it appears chimpanzees have their own type of social media . Forget Facebook though , the apes use their own individual drumming beats to send messages to their friends more than 3,280ft ( 1km ) away , a new study has revealed .
They take advantage of the huge roots of rainforest trees to carry the sounds of their tap ping with their hands and feet through dense , humid forests . Scientists discovered that some chimpanzees in Uganda's Budongo Forest have a regular rhythm like rock and blues drummers , while others have more syncopated or more variable rhythms like jazz .
The University of St Andrews study shows male chimpanzees have their own signature rhythms which allow them to send information that reveals who is where , and what they are doing .
go for more read,https://infoblog0001.blogspot.com
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SPY AU.
Summary:You work in the Stables, an escort company operating in the web of lies and eyes of a government service simply known as the Box. A terrible mistake put you in contention with your boss and stuck on the bottom rung of the career ladder. The journey to regaining his trust, and your self-respect, proves an eventful one.
Pairing Min Yoongi x Fem! Reader
Content: Short Black-belly Boss! Suga x Tall Muscle Head! Reader; Wrangler! Jungkook, Honeypot! Jin, EXO Crossover Hoodlum! Chanyeol and ensemble; Bar fights, Hotel fights, Bathcurtain fights; Nookie Snu Snu; Read with caution, abandon morals all ye who enter etc etc... blt...
A/N: L/N mentioned stands for 'last name'. Rhea is reader's code/nickname, three guesses why, winner gets one situation written into subsequent chapters. Author starting to depise the use of Y/N, please suggest alternate names. Later chapters with explicit content will be posted on AO3.
_ _ _ _
You were breaking into a man's house when your earpiece crackled.
"Rhea," Jungkook whispered into your ear. "Rhea, you've got to answer me. Where are you?"
You coughed. "Um, good morning."
"Morning? It's fucking two a.m. Why aren't you in your hotel room?"
"Because the target isn't."
"… What."
You grimaced. "He gave me the slip. We talked about me making him breakfast, something silly like that. Then we went to bed. He did a bunk after he thought I fell asleep."
"Okay, so? He's commitment phobic. Op isn't working, we'll hand him off to the the Dogs. If he blabs to them, it's off to the basement. End of story."
"Not okay, and not end of story," you hissed. "I'm so bloody tired of mooching around hotel rooms and bars and back alleys of clubs. This man has never once invited me to his house. He calls ahead a week before a meetup and he always arrives an hour before we do. "
Static on his end. Bloody typical. "He's used to surveillance. Like he's got something to hide. And that bug we put on his phone is giving us nothing. I'm sure it's a burner. Cookie," you said, "you read the dossier; he associates with known agitators. Why can't we dig deeper ourselves?"
"Because we'd need a juicy fat signature from the big guns before we do anything beyond our job detail." Jungkook hissed back. "Sealed and sanctioned. If that's what'll tick your clock, we'll do that. Bring in Moles, bring in more techies. Find a time he's not at his office and his hou- oh, my god. Please," he swore up a storm and you winced as your eardrums bore the brunt of it. "You're at his house aren't you?"
"Technically," you looked down, "I'm on his drain pipe."
You were clinging to it like a chimpanzee. Wearing all black, sweat had pooled in the hollows of your joints. Your plams were slippery too.
Any more of that and you'd come slipping off it like a soused pole dancer. You'd already wasted enough time with Jungkook.
"I followed the target to this house after several detours. I think it's his real place. He's probably conked out on his bed. I'll be quick, in and out."
"No, you come down from there this instant! Rhea!?"
"It's fine," you gasped. Your arms were beginning to strain. "If he catches me, I'll just pretend to be crazy. Say I fell in love with him, and I was desperate. Apologize for stalking him and jump out of a window."
"You are crazy."
"Sure," you huffed. You started climbing again. You were close to the target's study window on the second floor. Just a stretch of hands and you could start picking the lock.
"Look," Jungkook pleaded, "I can put in a request first thing in the morning, and we'll run this thing tidy as you please. Anyway," he continued, "you kept your earpiece in, and that means you must have wanted me to ping you, right? Right?"
"Uh-huuh." With your tongue between your teeth, you pried open his window with a chisel. Lucky it was a sash type, and lucky you snagged that chisel from Jungkook's emergency toolbox in his van. The lock gave with a quiet pop. You slid the frame up. The opening seemed so sinister, the darkness inside like some gaping wound.
"Listen," you whispered. "I'm going to have to go."
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Chief Min is going to fucking skin us."
Chief Min? Your heart thumped. Whether it was nerves for what you were about to do, or the thought of Chief Min, his face frozen in displeasure-- you couldn't say. But it was too late for second guesses.
You climbed into the house.
_ _ _ _
The mild susurration of grass accompanied you in dreams. You seemed to feel the green blades on your cheeks, smelling fresh scents of daisies and sandalwood.
… Sandalwood? Now that didn't seem quite right. But the meadow was so comfortable, your back so warm, that you stretched your limbs in bliss and turned on your side.
“L/N.”
“L/N!”
It sounded like a foghorn blaring straight into your skull. You jerked awake. Your boss had wrenched open the door. One hand clenched around the doorknob, the knuckles whitened. The other was perched on his hip.
He eyed you like he would a maggot, and you remembered, that you weren't, in fact, spending a weekend napping on the grass in some Austen-described Derbyshire meadow.
You were in the discreet townhouse building that served as the Stables. You had your bum parked on a cheap plastic chair right outside his office, and you were supposed to be sitting to attention, awaiting his summons.
Well, he'd summoned you now. That susurration were whispers from the other office populace. The shout that woke you up had reduced them to an appalled silence, as if the Chief had just smacked all their mouths with a fly-swat. They were bent over their desks, avidly scanning their computer screens while sneaking peeks at the two of you.
You cast a desperate glance around, but right now, they wouldn't help you if God themself had popped up with an early retirement offer and a lifetime pension.
“And?” Min Yoongi snapped. “Am I supposed to roll out the red carpet, L/N? Or do you need a blanket for that lovely nap you've just had on government pay?”
“No, sir,” you muttered.
You got up. Even in flats, you towered over him. A full head and a half. He had to tilt his neck a full sixty degrees to meet your eyes. One of your colleagues had measured the angle once at a dinner party, while you were trying desperately not to ogle the Chief.
You wondered if that was the moment he'd started hating you in earnest, the way his lack of inches had become the seeming butt of an office joke. Min Yoongi never liked being disadvantaged.
He let you precede him. As you inched past, you heard him scoff, a puff of warmed air between your figures. Then he slammed the door shut, muting the sounds from the outer office.
“I'd invite you to sit,” he said, “but I think you've had enough of that.”
He stalked to his desk, and sat in his chair. They were polished cherry-wood. So lush and expensive looking, mirroring their owner. You approached him, feeling like an ant.
“Oh no, stand over there,” he shooed you away to a foot from his desk, “so I don't have to throw out my neck looking at you. Our bosses advise me to mark that spot with an 'X' just for you, considering how much time you spend in here. Tell me, L/N” he said, “are you some goddess of misfortune disguised, or do you simply enjoy performing so abysmally?”
You grimaced. “I know it looks bad.”
“Looks, she says!” He huffed. “Do tell, how is breaking the arm of the man you were supposed to seduce into giving away information,” Chief Min paused for breath, “part of looking bad? It is bad.”
“That was-- he was resisting--”
“You couldn't extract the intel during your dates, so you followed him home. In the middle of your misbegotten search, he came upon you. He mistook you for a burglar and tackled you. Then he pulled off your fucking sock--”
“--Balaclava,” you corrected miserably.
“--Sock,” Chief Min continued inexorably, “--at which point he refused to listen to your excuses and got aggressive."
Aggressive was putting it lightly. After escaping the house, you called Jungkook. He ran several red lights getting you to the nearest ER.
"So you pulled him into a twist, fracturing his humerus and tearing his rotator cuff in the process, and knocked him unconscious with a flowerpot. After all that…you came away with a USB full of pictures of his cat. And it wasn't even encrypted decently. Two hackers and a cryptanalyst on overtime pay for blurry fucking Maine Coon JPGs. That's what your report said. Quite a read, if I say so myself.”
"It was hidden in a false drawer. I believe I had legitimate reason to suspect it's contents."
Chief Min rubbed his temples. “It could have been hidden in the Queen of England's toilet for the good it did. He won't be so easily fooled again. If he really is the real deal, he might even have done away with incriminating evidence after that late night drama you enacted in his house. And look what he did to your face.”
He gestured at the pattern of black and blue across your cheeks and jaw. But his mention of them irritated you. The target had left more along your sides and back, but the Chief didn't talk about those. He was just looking for something to pick on, and the fact that this was coming from a man's mouth stung.
"If that compromises my value, maybe you could market me as a battered woman for my next op," you said stone-voiced. "Some people find that attractive."
He stared at you like he couldn't believe what you'd just said. He crimsoned at the ears.
"My instructions were to extract that information through whatever means necessary,” you pressed on.
It was bloody career suicide, but god if it didn't sound good.
“Within your capacity!” Chief Min shouted at a volume you'd not heard from him before. "If you want to play bloody word games you can quit this job and join Scrabble competitions for a living! Don't you dare try to out-bureaucratise me!" He was turning purple at the nostrils.
Harsh breathing, deep lungfuls of air. It took you a moment to realise both you and Chief Min were synchronised in agitation.
"You--" he started, then coughed, sharp whipcracks of sound. He paged his secretary.
“Margo, get me some tea, and some antacids. Margo?" He barked.
Radio silence.
“Margo, you old hag, if you're still alive in that cubicle of yours, I want some tea, at least.”
You winced. Old Margo Lam had served a total of five Section Chiefs before Min Yoongi had even been potty-trained. The bosses at the Box didn't know what to do with her, and no one wanted to axe her from the job in case she might die of shock. She was nearly deaf, extremely short-sighted, and took three calcium pills a day to stave off osteoporosis. Any day now you expected to find her expired and shrivelled up in her little anteroom.
A croaky noise that you figured was static issued from the speakers. But the Chief proceeded to have a whole conversation on his end, with garbled interjections from the static- no, Margo.
“Sometime this century would be nice,” he grumbled at last. You supposed his order had finally gone through. He slumped back in his seat, staring a head at the window in the corner. It was a slit in the wall, shuttered. It left his office in the gloom of a constant evening.
What light there was came from a old standing lamp, with a lace doily Margo had probably crocheted forty years ago. It lent his face a sheen akin to a South Side pearl. He had the sort of delicate features that rendered him beautiful, unequivocally. Somedays they filled you with envy. On other days--
Chief Min sighed, and hunched over his desk, looking like a little Vogue-sanctioned dictator. You clenched your fists; ignoring you had the desired effect. You felt incredibly insignificant. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and uncapped a Montblanc. He began scribbling furiously. From your vantage point, you could see the papers were forms.
“Remind me again, L/N, what this place is?” He asked without looking up.
Ah. A weight settled in your gut. “The Stables, sir,” you answered,
“And what are the Stables?”
“An escort service serving as a front for select information gathering, otherwise unattainable through conventional means. We handle outsourced espionage work from the Box-- the um-- the government, sir.”
“That's right.” The Chief looked at you. “You are a honeypot,” he said pleasantly. Mildly. “A sweet flower meant to attract birds and bees.”
A shiver ran up your spine. You eyed the pen he was gripping and shifted on your heels.
“If you wanted to simply beat intel out of persons of interest, I'd recommend you to the basement guys. You know who those are?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No, you don't know. You shouldn't know because no one in their right mind would ever want to know about the basement guys. Every morning they go to Intelligence HQ, that huge black tower they call the Box, and then they take the elevator down to floors that don't exist. And they talk to suspects. Milkmen, florists, the auntie you always meet at the bus stop. And if the basement guys aren't happy with what they hear, they'll stop 'talking'. They'll bring those people out of the Box, in bags.�� He cracked a smile. Cold-eyed. "The end."
The spit pooling under your tongue felt like glue. Swallowing was painful, and seemed especially loud after his measured narration.
“Do you still know about basement guys?”
“No, sir,” you said.
“Good. Because basement guys are called Butchers. First thing you learn on the job is how to pack up those bags neatly, so you don't get too much blood on the floor. But Butchers," Chief Min said, "do not make up excuses about love and yearning for their targets. When they're in a pinch, they bash brains in."
"So you are not Butcher material, after all."
He signed the last of his forms with a flourish and rummaged in his desk drawers. Holding up his official stamp between two slender fingers, he surveyed you. You surveyed back. He was always like this, eyeing you as if he'd found an outlier he couldn't quite place. A specimen under a microscope.
In contrast, he was always perfectly turned out; shirts and suits starched and ironed. Hair styled like he couldn't put a foot wrong. He radiated competence, informing the world that human failings were for peons, and he was above it all. Like he was a flower stuck upon a dunghill of rejects.
Not for the first time, you wondered why he was here at the Stables. He seemed altogether familiar with the work of Butchers, and the Box men seemed to respect him, if nothing else; their overseers from the Box rather considered the Stables underhanded for even spys. Maybe he was here as a stark reminder that there was, in fact, a sliding scale of human achievement. And he occupied one end of the spectrum, while you and poor Margo Lam rusticated at the other end.
“As of today, you're not even a honeypot,” Chief Min was saying.
“You're a peat bog. No one will want you working P&S jobs for a good while. You've always scraped through your ops, so even though I questioned the validity of having you in the field, I was beginning to have hope you could stick it. That, you can attribute to the team you've got behind you. But you proved me wrong. And I've got one very long meeting ahead of me, trying to explain to the Box why I've been letting imprudency fester in my Stables."
Disappointment dripped out with every word. He sounded like every teacher you'd ever let down, every phone call from your estranged mother. And you shied away from it.
"You evaded your support team, ignored their caution, and attempted a rogue intervention, the results of which provide me with all the answers I need.”
“Sir, I--” What could you say? That you were so tired of feeling like a second rate agent? That the superficial compliments of Box heads, talking about your 'skillset' were nothing compared to a single sharp nod of approval from Chief Min? That you wanted…what was it you wanted?
"Yes, go on?" He said, waving a hand. But shame welled in you. He just watching you struggle with yourself. You hated having these kind of thoughts. They left you feeling pitiful, and gutless. Vulnerability showing on your face like spilled ink. You pulled your lips in, ignoring the sudden urge to cry. Chief Min cleared his throat. "You obviously need more time understanding what those answers are. Since you seem to want a break from escort duty, I'm assigning you to support and wrangling. You can reflect on your actions while bin-diving in your next op."
He stamped the forms. His actions should have sounded deafening for the impact they had on you. It was practically a Hall of Infamy induction. The Box would never let you live this down.
"Dismissed, L/N. I'll show you out." He stood up. You followed him, your head feeling stuffed full of cotton.
"I was trying to help," you said at last, as he was about to open the door. Oh, you were bitter, because harsh as he was, he was right. And he was going to shoulder the blame for your recklessness. Sharp-tongued and a heart made of pudding; a more hardline superior would have done things by the books and sent you to an office in the arse of nowhere filing traffic violations. Or cut you loose, simple as that.
"I was impatient. I just wanted to bring in something by myself. To be proactive, for once," you said to his shoes.
You heard him sigh. And that quiet rustle, which meant he had taken of his scholar's glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"You really don't get it, do you?" He said softly. "Nevermind. You'll start fresh next week. In the meantime, go home and get some sleep. Your man had some hard fists. Put some ointment on those bruises."
He sounded almost pitying, and you felt your shoulders rise in defence, remembering the ill-conceived nap earlier. He just had to be painfully observant. Making suppositions all on his own.
"And don't--sleep on you sides like earlier. You'll put pressure on the ones he left there."
'I could really hate you for this', you thought.
You muttered a "Yes,sir," under your breath, in case he was waiting for a response. He let you leave. You hurried out, wanting air, wanting to get away and find a corner to bawl in solitude. Everyone outside, clearly in the middle of gossip, once again fell into a watchful, empty quiet.
"Don't hate me too much," you thought you heard him murmur, the frayed ends of an errant wish. You turned back, but he had shut the door in your face already.
I am open for commissions to cover my expenses. Look me up :)
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youtube
Chimps in Uganda have their own signature rhythms when drumming on trees
Scientists have found that chimpanzees in Uganda’s Budongo Forest have their own signature style when drumming on trees. They use their signature rhythms to send information to each other that reveals who is where.
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#AlsoFoundOnTheSecretServer: Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and an honest politician. • Just kidding, these are all fantasy creatures. - - - #AdviceForMen #Advice #1bigliar #Chimpanzees #MonkeyFun #ApeFun #Signature #KnowingWomen https://www.instagram.com/p/B3IuZBDF6J-/?igshid=1q2hu3shascrn
#alsofoundonthesecretserver#adviceformen#advice#1bigliar#chimpanzees#monkeyfun#apefun#signature#knowingwomen
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Which Webkinz do you own?
I currently have 64 on my account! They are *deep breath*:
Elephant, Black & White Cat, Monkey, Pink Pony, Cocker Spaniel, American Cocker Spaniel, Persian Cat, Lil' Yorkie, Tiger, Beagle, Lil' Googles, Alley Cat, Domino Cat, Lil' Hippo, Cheeky Monkey, Panda, Cotton Candy Bunny, Cow, Spotty Dinosaur, Poodle, Chimpanzee, Arctic Fox, Pig, Lil' Gold & White Cat, Guinea Pig, Golden Retriever, Trick or Treat Troll, Polar Bear, Lioness, Daisy Tortoise, Bubblegum Cheeky Cat, Signature Endangered Asian Elephant, Diamond Doggy, Schnauzer, Decade Dragon, Pink & White Cat, Jolly Holiday Puppy, Sock Elephant, Snowy Retriever Puppy, Velvety Elephant, Eluvant, Grey & White Cat, Seal, Kiwi Bird, Lil' Frog, Llama, Royal Elephant, Enchanted Elephant, Pretty Elephant, Koala, Tree Kangaroo, Whimsy Dragon, Tree Frog, Gingerbread Elephant, Batik Elephant, Big Top Elephant, Moon Monkey, Sherbet Bunny, Sweet Elephant, Soft Rainbow Tiger, Cinnamon Squireel, Lil' Unicorn, and Baby Elephant!
I am planning to get the American Golden with medallions soon, and I also have a Webkinz Next Elephant code that I'm going to adopt next month when my account turns 15 😊
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I am a firm believer in impulsive IwaOi. Those motherfuckers did not arrange a grand plan in order to confess to the other. Personally, I believe it went something like this:
.
Iwaizumi:
It was their usual walk home from school after practice. The sun had just begun its descend, and the sky was freckled with forming stars. Iwaizumi tilted his head to admire the warm hue of the sun cast over Oikawa’s skin. He was smiling, the corners of his lips tilted upwards casually. He looked breath-taking, and Iwaizumi wanted to sue him because there is no way this was legal. This being what Oikawa did to him – his heart racing, the butterflies going on a rampage in his stomach, the heat rushing to his cheeks whenever he looked his way. It was all too much.
“What are you smiling about?”
Oikawa turned his gaze towards him, specs of gold in his irises illuminated as the sunrays cast their light over him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
You, Iwaizumi thought, you are beauty itself. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “It is.”
“It reminds me of Iwa-chan,” and he gave his signature grin, which was usually obnoxious and made Iwaizumi want to punch it off his face. But now, with the golden rays directed straight at him, shining over his porcelain skin, Oikawa looked stunning.
Iwaizumi was stood there, dumbfounded, unable to formulate a response that wasn’t... well, homosexual.
He sucked in a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts, which was really hard when they were fucking dancing around his brain in mass quantities like Chimpanzees on drugs.
“What’s wrong?” Oikawa asked, now a couple steps ahead of him since Iwaizumi’d forgotten how to work his body.
He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips, walking up to the taller man and throwing an arm around his shoulders, resuming their walk home, now close enough to smell each other’s body wash (which was the same since they shared the bottle after practice).
“Nothing,” he said, smiling at his shoes as he kicked away the gravel beneath him. “You see, I’m just madly in love with you.”
.
Oikawa:
Lunch break is almost over, he thought. He should’ve woken him up, but when he looked down at the sleeping man next to him, body stretched out where they sat on the roof, he really couldn’t. He watched the cool breeze gently caressing his hair, soft spikes waving from one side to another; his eyebrows weren’t furrowed for a change, and the calm really suited his face.
His face, Oikawa thought, smiling to himself as his eyes examined it. His gaze went over his eyes, short eyelashes framing them perfectly; his nose, the tip of it red as the winter got colder by the day; then his lips, but he averted his eyes immediately as to stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss them until they become chapped and swollen.
One day, his inner conscience reassured him. One day, Iwaizumi would be his, and he’d kiss those lips to his heart’s desire.
This is really unfair, he whispered, a cloud of vapor blowing out his mouth. He clutched his chest, the overwhelming feeling of love taking over him. Unfair, he repeated, the way Iwaizumi was lying there, unbothered, while Oikawa’s heartache almost felt physical. Unfair, how Oikawa had to suffer from his possibly unrequired love while Iwaizumi touched and talked to him as he pleased. He had no idea what a simple pat on the head did to him, or a ‘you look good today’, because all Oikawa could think of was not good enough.
But at times, Oikawa dared to let his mind wander, exploring possibilities between the two of them. The gentleness of Iwaizumi tone whenever he made sure Oikawa’s knee wasn’t hurting, and the softness of his touch as he tried to ease his pain whenever it did. Every time Iwaizumi slept over, Oikawa would prepare himself for rejection as he crawled into his space to cuddle, but Iwaizumi never complained, only took him further into his arms, spreading his warmth deep into Oikawa’s bones.
Unfair, Oikawa’s eyes prickled with tears, the false hope Iwaizumi always gave him. Unfair, the way he made Oikawa feel as if it weren’t false, but hints at how Iwaizumi truly felt about him.
“Tooru?” His raspy voice broke the silence. “Are you crying?”
Oikawa’s fingers shot up to his face, touching his wet cheeks, and fuck he hadn’t even noticed he was crying. “N...Nothing,” he stuttered, hugging his knees and directing his gaze towards the sky. “We should probably head to class.”
Iwaizumi frowned, sitting up and rotating his body towards Oikawa. “Talk to me-”
“No,” he interrupted, and Iwaizumi was taken aback. But he was stubborn.
He grabbed onto Oikawa’s knee, squeezing ever so gently. “Why are you crying?”
Oikawa had lost sleep thinking about the day he would tell Iwaizumi about his feelings, never setting a date, but still scripting every single line, writing multiple scenarios and thinking of different responses from the other man. Did he think he could do it? Absolutely fucking not, but it felt nice to dream.
But now, with the winter breeze blowing against Iwaizumi, ruffling his hair and sending his spikes flying in different directions, he felt as if his body was about to implode, unable to contain all the feelings coursing through it. As those emerald eyes stared him down, begging for an answer, Oikawa drew in a deep breath, lips still parted and tears flowing even harder. He never thought it would happen this way, here and now. But it did.
“I’m in love with you.”
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