#also also sorry for the weird quality and flipped colours and stuff

[daughterofhecata]

Btw, found some evidence for the "Bob had a growth spurt and is now taller than Justus" truthers, I guess.

[the-bjd-community-confess]

lol, kinda funny seeing people completely unironically thinking people dislike Cho0 only for swinging the banhammer at trolls or actual harassers, instead of the hundreds of other reasons we've discussed here at length. Just say you wanna simp for him and go. But for a few reasons I remember.

The time he literally sicced his fantrolls after a SMD owner after they got a shit quality wig, which the person proved with pictures.

The times he sicced his fantrolls after a SMD owner after they got a pair of boots with two completely different finishes. Same boots and style, but it's clear one shoe had a different treatment because they didn't look alike at all.

That time he flipped his lid at someone who pointed out that their SMD was missing a part of the face-up. I think this has happened a few times, and some people were happy, but one of these people was annoyed that their 500+ doll wasn't even finished.

That time he excused all this bullshit with "wabi sabi" not only appropriating a term to justify his shitty QC, but also completely failing the point of actual wabi-sabi.

The myriad of times people mention how his fans are simping so hard for him, they'll literally send him messages about how great he is, and how talented he is, after he left a SMD group because someone gave valid criticism, and he felt personally attacked. This has happened multiple times, and each time he sulks, even if it's for no reason at all, they'll suck him off so hard, and simp harder than a twitch mod to get him to rejoin.

The time he cancelled someone's order for daring to ask how it'd be sent, and when, because of the Corona lockdown.

The time he cancelled someone's order and accused them of being someone he had already banned. When that wasn't true, and the person could even prove it.

The time someone posted a screenshot of how they'd literally been asked to confirm their address to make sure it was the right one, and then still got it sent to the wrong address. -This person might even have been banned after their public callout. Not sure though.

Him deflecting valid criticsm with "I'm sorry for caring about my workers." but not once has he ever let actual workers give their own thoughts, and he constantly erases who made the sculpts for his dolls.

Just using his workers as a shield, and as an excuse for allowing shit quality items to be sold at full price.

The time he compared Smartd0lls to BLM, and said that Smartd0lls were like the oppressed minority of the BJD world. -Something like that, I think you can still find this discourse on the d0lldreaming forum.

The literal ableism he's done by telling people with disabilities that they're not his audience, and he thinks they shouldn't buy dolls if they can't put them together.

That ableism bullshit deserves two points just for how stupid and cruel it is.

The chaos heads not coming with a headcap, and the only available colour is orange. -Absolutely great for anyone who'd like a bald doll, or for people who use light wigs, or ventilated wigs.

The weird way he writes the smartd0ll stories, which comes across really weird and some times creepy.

Aiming ads about these 500 dollar dolls at literal children. These dolls which can barely handle careful play by adults. -People literally complain about joints cracking.

You can't (couldn't?) even buy replacement joints if you’re broke. I think later you could buy full packs of a bunch of different replacement parts, but not the specific one you needed.

You're not allowed to buy certain stuff if you haven't already bought stuff from SMD before. Even if you own an SMD, like second hand, or as a gift, and even if you have proof.

He will cancel your orders, and ban you if you buy stuff, like the "exclusive" stuff, for people who haven't bought before. You're almost guaranteed to get banned if you buy for people who're banned, for whatever reason, even if the ban was utterly ridiculous as the first ones mentioned already.

Cho0 flipping his lid, and getting mad when people sold their "pebble" blind box dolls when they weren't the dolls they wanted, and getting snarky in the description of the blind packs.

Literally discontinuing dolls, and skin tones because he didn't like the dolls being popular, literally, and because he didn't like people hybriding with v0lks.

Apparently Ch0o at some point directly messaged someone asking if they were someone who was banned, and asked them to prove it or their order would get cancelled? -this one I'm not sure of, but that's why I put it last, so maybe someone could explain that one.

So yeah, 99% of people don't give a shit if cho90 bans some assholes, trolls, and harassers, people are calling it out for behaviour like that ☝☝☝☝ and his other toddler tantrums.

~Anonymous

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

What we need. What we have.

Anon: Hi Han, please could you write a story. It’s a bit of a jumble but I have this idea of Mickey maybe trying to get someones wallet or maybe like a sweater back to them and Ian being a bit of a pest wanting sex but Mickey is trying to do a good deed? IDK. Please try if you think it might be good. Thank you! Love all your work so much! xxx

“Hey! I found a wallet!”

Iggy dropped down onto the sofa next to Ian and snatched the video controller out of his hand.

“Oh yeah? Any money in it?”

Ian cupped his now empty hands around a joint and lit up contentedly. Iggy shook his head and tossed it over Ian into Mickey’s lap.

“Nah, but it’s quality. Might get a couple bucks for it.”

Mickey plucked the joint out from between Ian’s lips and stuck it between his own, earning himself a scowl

“Jesus. Does anyone in this family ever ask for anything?”

“No.”

Both Milkovich’s smirked in unison and Ian shook his head, suppressing a small smile.

“Assholes.”

Mickey quirked an eyebrow at the insult but didn’t respond as he opened the wallet and began prodding through the contents.

There was an old photo, two men stood side by side, arms around each others shoulders. There was something about the pose that didn’t strike Mickey as being merely friendly. It was too intimate, their bodies pressed too close. He flipped the picture over and read the note on the back

‘Jack and Jim. August 1977. Love is Love.’

“Where’d you find this?”

He asked, passing Iggy the joint.

“Over on Newly Avenue. Was just lyin’ there. Weird.”

“Why weird?”

Ian let Iggy have a couple of puffs and then reclaimed his smoke. He didn’t mind sharing but Iggy could be like a human chimney with weed and Ian wanted to get good and baked and take Mickey into the bedroom for an afternoon of really filthy sex. The kind that would leave his boyfriend close to exhaustion, his lips swollen and sore and his body quivering on the bed, too wiped out to even clean himself up, letting Ian pamper him without complaint.

“Because it was like no one else could see it. You drop a wallet it normally gets snatched up like fuckin’ birdseed.”

“Birdseed?”

Ian spluttered, handing the joint back to Mickey who waved it away, once again rifling through the compartments in the little black leather pouch.

“Yeah like cause people are like birds and they swarm free shit.”

Iggy grinned around the joint as Ian dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Doesn’t have an address in it.”

Mickey mumbled causing  Iggy to frown at him.

“Well they’re clumsy, not stupid. If it had an address I’d have gone round and roughed the asshole up for a reward.”

Mickey gave his brother an impatient look and stood up.

“I’m headin’ over there. You wanna come?”

“What? No! Don’t ...”

Ian scrabbled to his feet, following Mickey to the door

“C’mon. No one is giving you a reward for an empty wallet Mickey.”

Mickey switched his impatient look to his boyfriend and shook his head

“I don’t want a fuckin’ reward and it ain’t empty. It’s got personal stuff in it. Someone might need it.”

“What?”

Ian scrunched his face up, confused

“Since when do you give a shit about stuff like that?”

“I … fuck you. You comin’ or not?”

“Fine. But I was hoping we’d spend the afternoon in bed. Together. Naked...”

“I can fuckin’ hear you!”

Iggy called over his shoulder and then returned the middle finger that he didn’t have to look to know his brother was giving him.

“Yeah well. Newly ain’t far. We can do whatever nasty shit you want later.”

Ian pouted and zipped his hoodie up firmly

“How’d you know it was gonna be nasty? Might have been sweet.”

Mickey snorted and held the front door open, ushering Ian out

“Not likely when you’re stoned. You always want to get your tongue right in ...”

“STILL FUCKING HEAR YOU!!!”

Iggy roared and Mickey slammed the door firmly behind him.

*

They walked the couple of blocks to Newly in relative silence. Mickey had the wallet in his pocket and kept his hand on it possessively. Ian slung his arm around Mickey’s shoulders once they were a little way away from the Milkovich house and Mickey let him do it which was a surprise. A pleasant surprise but still …

“You Okay?”

“Yep.”

“Sure?”

“Yep.”

Ian rolled his eyes and moved his arm, letting it fall in a clumsy arc to slap his palm teasingly on Mickey’s ass.

“Fuck sake! We’re in public, Ian.”

“Not my fault that ass won’t quit.”

Mickey’s lip quirked upwards but he tongued away the smile and shook his head

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert.”

“Says the guy licked jello off my nipples last night.”

“You fuckin’ put it there!”

Ian grinned wickedly and leant in close enough for his breath to tickle Mickey’s ear

“Wasn’t me who smeared it over my ass.”

Mickey glanced around furtively but the street was empty.

“Also, it’s not me who likes things to get a bit rough.”

“The Hell it isn’t!”

Mickey stopped dead, making Ian have to back track to him with a shy smile on his face

“Well ...”

Ian considered whilst Mickey looked up at him with utter incredulity

“Do I need to list every damn time you’ve left a bruise on me?”

“No … I mean, it might be fun but you don’t need to. Maybe just tell me about the ones you enjoyed most?”

Mickey narrowed his eyes at Ian. The redhead was far too handsome for any of his expressions to be called a ‘leer’ but the one on his face was damn close. The difficulty was that despite Mickey’s outrage his treacherous body was reacting all too warmly to Gallagher’s nonsense.

“You’re an asshole. And a pervert.”

Mickey managed finally, shoving Ian lightly and thumbing his lip to quell a smile that would undermine what little dignity he had left.

Ian danced around him as Mickey continued walking, every now and then darting out one strong hand or the other to touch Mickey lightly, mostly on his butt, and ask

“The one I left here?”

“How about here?”

“This one?”

Mickey shook his head, desperately trying not to either laugh or shove his boyfriend into oncoming traffic.

“I’m gonna leave a real good one on you later.”

He growled as Ian bounced in and touched Mickey’s nipple through his shirt, raising his eyebrows in silent question.

“Promise? Leave more than one.”

“Jesus, Gallagher.”

“Aww come on, I can handle whatever you can give.”

Mickey gave in and smiled down at his boots. The thought of beating Ian was, at that exact moment, rather appealing but not really something Mickey was likely to be able to do and they both fuckin’ knew it.

“You ain’t handlin’ shit, Firecrotch.”

“Is it because you just want to be sweet to me? Treat me nice?”

“Right now? No.”

Mickey glanced around again but didn’t protest as Ian stepped in again, pressing his chest flush to Mickey’s.

“You want to be good for me, huh?”

“What the fuck, man?”

Mickey could feel the colour creeping into his cheeks. They were in the middle of an empty street, in broad daylight and Ian seemed about ready to have him right there. His hands gripped Mickey’s upper arms tightly and his eyes focussed intently on Mickey’s own deep blue iris’.

“I’ve been real bad, Mick. I need you to teach me a lesson. You can’t always be sweet to me.”

Ian purred, his lips grazing Mickey’s earlobe.

“Okay, but maybe not right here?”

He raised his eyebrows in warning and Ian finally bit his lip a little guiltily and stepped back, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Sorry. Got carried away.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

Mickey gave him a final ‘what the fuck’ look and then shrugged. He loved it when Ian told him exactly what he needed and Mickey loved to please him, whatever that looked like on any given day.

“I mean … uh … you’ve started something now, you know? I’m gonna have to sort you out later and you’re gonna have to deal with that.”

Ian’s embarrassed scowl lightened into another slightly cheeky grin.

“Yeah?”

“Oh definitely. You’re done, Gallagher.”

Ian bit his lip and his eyes lit with expectation but mercifully he seemed content to just revel in what Mickey had said rather than demanding more. Mickey huffed out a heavy breath and gave Ian a side-on look before dismissing it as him just being a horny eighteen year old. There had been some weird shit lately but Ian had been stressed. Svetlana, money, South Side … all of it. It was fucking hard, Mickey knew that. If Ian wanted something to release that tension – a bit of blood on his lips, having someone push his buttons, or getting his ass whooped, well shit. Mickey understood that and was more than happy to oblige.

*

As they turned onto Newly, Mickey squeezed the wallet in his pocket a little tighter. There was a lady rummaging through her bags and a couple of kids hanging out on bikes but not the sort of person he was looking for.

“What’s the plan?”

Ian asked and Mickey shrugged, irritated with himself for not having a plan.

“I guess walk up to the end of the street, walk back down, if no one is looking for a wallet, toss the fucker in the trash.”

“Cool.”

Ian nodded, falling easily into step beside his boyfriend. Mickey smiled slightly to himself. This was one of the things he liked most about Ian. He could be a bossy, inappropriate asshole one minute but then when Mickey needed him to shut the fuck up and just go with something, he was always down for it. Whatever stupid fucking thing it was, Ian would do it if Mickey was doing it. He wasn’t afraid or ashamed to help. Mickey valued that kind of loyalty very highly and hoped he could return it at least a little.

He licked his lips, looked around once, and then squared his shoulders and grabbed Ian’s ass cheek in a tight, full palmed grip, hard enough to know that the skin beneath the denim was bleaching white around the outline of his fingers before flushing pink.

“And don’t fuckin’ distract me while we’re doing it. You’re in enough shit.”

Ian looked momentarily shocked and then a slow, sexy smile spread across his face. Mickey tightened his grip, making Ian wince.

“The fuck you smiling at?”

“Nothin’. Sorry.”

Ian physically wiped the smile from his face and Mickey nodded, releasing him. Ian walked a little closer, his arm brushing lightly against Mickey’s, and there was a definite spring in his step but clearly Mickey had got the game right as Ian just walked, saying nothing.

*

They walked up one side and had just started to come down another when Mickey saw a guy up ahead peering intently at shrubs and in gutters. He couldn’t see his face but hadn’t actually studied the photo that much so doubted it would help anyway.

“Hey. You lose something?”

The guy looked up wearily

“I don’t want any trouble, son.”

“Me neither. You lose something?”

Mickey gripped the wallet a little harder. He thought it might have been the dude on the left but he really didn’t know.

“Yeah. My wallet.”

Mickey looked over his shoulder and tongued his lip, pulling it out of his pocket. Ian startled and gave Mickey a confused look which his boyfriend ignored.

“This one?”

He held it out and the older man’s face lit up.

“Holy shit! Yes! That’s the one.”

He reached out for it and then stopped looking at Mickey cautiously

“Go ahead, it’s yours. Ain’t got any money in it though.”

“Ha. Never had any to begin with. Thank you. Truly. Thank you.”

Mickey shrugged. Now that the deed was done he just wanted to get out of there and head home with Ian.

“It’s cool. I figured you’d want what is in there anyway.”

The man, Jack or Jim, pulled out the photo and glanced between Mickey and Ian with a knowing smile.

“Love is love, boys.”

“Yeah well. See ya.”

Mickey didn’t look back at Jack/Jim but Ian did and saw the little picture.

“Aww Mick.”

“What?”

“We walked all the way over so you could get that guy his picture back?”

Ian’s voice was all soft and hopeful and … proud? Jesus. Mickey gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together.

“Why? I mean it’s so nice of you but why?”

“Because ...”

Mickey looked around, more furtively than he had when Ian had been talking dirty to him, more cautiously than before he grabbed Ian’s ass and then, satisfied no one could hear them, he murmured

“Cause I have a photo in my wallet too. Fuckin’ suck if I lost it.”

“You do?”

Ian cocked his head to the side and Mickey nodded

“Yeah.” “What’s it of?”

“Mind your own fuckin’ business!”

*

Later that night, with Mickey passed out in bed and Ian trying to find a comfortable position to sleep after then delightfully thorough working over his boyfriend had given him, reminding Ian exactly of the capabilities of the man he fell for, Ian slipped out of bed.

He picked Mickey’s pants up and patted the pockets until he found his wallet.

Under the light of his cellphone, Ian pulled out the folded photo and after one final guilty look at Mickey’s sleeping form, unfolded it.

“Aww Mick.”

He whispered. He wondered if he still had that beanie, or that shirt and made a mental note to find both if he could and wear them the next night ... and be as sweet to Mickey as he could be. He had everything he needed and things he had not even known he wanted. And Ian wanted Mickey to be able to say the same.

[thesummerfox]

so I have actually two prompts to ask (1) something happens to Karen and she ends up in the hospital (2) anything domestically fluffy PS: I'm sorry if this is to much to ask, so if you want to do just one I'm okay with that 😍💖 (but let it be the first one 😂). And thank you sooo much!!💖💖

Thank you for sending this in, oh my goodness! This has been a blast to write -- I decided to opt for 1 and add in sprinkles of 2, how about that? ;) Also, if this prompt is your jam I’ve got one other (older) fic of mine you might like! Though Death Be More Kind fits this bill perfectly, if you haven’t read it yet. ^^As for your prompt... I hope you’ll enjoy this!

Her ears are still ringing.

She winces at the high-pitched whining tone that has wormed its way into her eardrums. Wonders if the quiet in the room around her is setting it off even further, or if she just permanently suffered some damage to her eardrums from that explosion.

The fact that she’s more concerned about damage to her hearing than about the varying cuts and bruises on her body is probably a testament to how good hospital painkillers can be when they work.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” says a voice somewhere to her right as she cracks one eye open and lets out a groan at the harsh light overhead. There’s something familiar about its mellow-toned sound that’s buried deep in her subconscious. She tries to remember what it is by furrowing her brow and attempting to turn her head. Regrets the decision almost immediately when her stomach rolls uncomfortably and bile rises in the back of her throat. The voice sounds concerned about her wellbeing in the next few seconds. “Try not to move too much, okay?”

“M-Micro?” she breathes, finally remembering the name that eluded her before. Croaks out his name and winces at the rough quality of her own voice. Her throat feels like sandpaper. There’s a burn in it that doesn’t subside even after she swallows half a dozen times. She blinks both eyes open now. “W-what?”

“Well, at least your brain still works,” assesses the man. She thinks she detects a sliver of approval in his tone, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Rather a sticky situation you landed in. Big explosion, too. You got lucky.”

“Don’t remember.”

It’s only half a lie. There are some holes where her knowledge of last night is supposed to be. She remembers chasing a story. Remembers something about an arms deal going horribly wrong. Definitely remembers the explosion. Is a little hazy about the details. Certainly doesn’t recall how she wound up with needles in her arm and bandages wrapped around various body parts. Her head is swimming. Her stomach flips a somersault as she moves her eyes slowly to the right.

“You look ridiculous,” she croaks out when she gets her first good look at the man. “Seriously. Did you get dressed in the dark?”

Micro raises his piercing blue eyes from the bag he’s holding for a second to fix her with a half-smile. His curly hair is tucked haphazardly into an oversized beanie, he is wearing two scarves that clash horribly with one another in colour, and Karen is pretty sure that he is the only person in her life who’ll don a kimono and hoodie at the same time. He looks just a little too much on the side of kooky for anyone to take seriously. She supposes that’s the entirety of why he chooses to dress that way. If there’s one thing she’s learned about the man, it’s that he thrives off being underestimated.

There’s something else that’s bugging her.

“How did you..?” She gestures haphazardly, groaning as even the smallest movement makes her muscles ache in protest. “Hospital?”

“I’m listed as your first emergency contact,” he shares conversationally while throwing half the contents of her bedside table into the bag. She blinks at that. Huh. “I’m your doddering older brother, Dan Page. I do not trust medical professionals and it took one of the nurses five minutes to explain to me that you were not going to die.” He smirks at that. “I swiped her keycard and half a dozen pain medications while she was preoccupied.”

It hurts to smile, but Karen can’t help break out into a small grin at that.

“There you go.” Micro sounds almost relieved to see her smile, brittle and more teeth than feeling though it may be, and he pats her hand reassuringly. “Dan Page is here to bail you out.”

She frowns at that. “Bail me out?”

“Well, you’ve only got a concussion and three broken bones and a whole lot of stitches.” He shrugs as if all he’s done is announce the weather. “Nothing some rest back home can’t fix. I’ve commandeered a wheelchair. You’ll be fine.”

“Jesus,” she mutters, then, catching on to all the things Micro is not saying, “he’s going spare, isn’t he?”

Micro has the grace to wince. “Like one of my kids' fucking wind-up toys,” he affirms. “I have half a mind to knock him out and check if there’s some kind of battery removal function.”

The laugh that bubbles up in her belly has her wincing in pain. White-hot agony shoots through her as the laugh escapes her lungs and stabs the air around her haltingly. She hisses as her throat clamps down on the bile that keeps on threatening to spew forth from her. Micro’s cool hand finds her brow seconds later. She moans in contentment as his hand stays on her feverish skin. Closes her eyes and lets the dark sink back in.

*

Karen Page sometimes wonders when exactly her life got to this point. She thinks even her longstanding bad luck charm for trouble must one day just.. run out. It has to. Keeps thinking that maybe it will as she gets older, but is somehow left dodging bullets and running away from danger more often than she can count.

Not that she’ll be doing any running any time soon.

A whimper escapes her as she inhales a little too noisily and her ribcage beats a steady protest against the motion. Oh, she’s going to kill Micro once she’s able to sit up without wanting to vomit. Vows to do some serious damage to the man so he can find out for himself that half the painkillers he swiped from the hospital don’t work well enough. She moans out a curse as the ceiling finally coalesces into a familiar sight. Doesn’t know what exactly she expected from the word ‘home’, but is pretty certain that a dingy basement that somehow always smells like lightning does not fit that bill completely.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.”

“Please tell me this is your bed and not his,” she groans out in reply, praying that she won’t throw up a third time as she shifts into a more comfortable position. “I don’t trust that Micro knows the meaning of the word clean.”

“Oh, he knows,” comes the answering chuckle, “but he likes upsetting you more. He did think it would be smarter to put you on my bed, though, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s weird.” She wrinkles her nose at that. Resigns herself to the pile of pillows and blankets she’s surrounded by. Tries to smile. Almost falters in her bravery. “Thanks.”

“How’re you holding up?” His voice may be gruff, but the gentle hand on her belly and the even gentler hand that brushes her hair back out of her face speak louder than his words. “Micro said you were pretty out of it when he transported you..”

She snorts derisively. “I puked all over him when he picked me up to put me in the wheelchair. I passed out after that.” Heat rises to her cheeks when she remembers Micro’s soft curses and the icky smell in her hair. “When I came to, again, we were in the van and he was hollering ‘I have a permit!’ at some irate hospital security guard who kept repeating he should not park in the ambulance’s spot.” She grins fully now, despite the fact that her face still throbs with pain. “Micro flipping everybody in the vicinity off was something I didn’t know I needed until I got it.”

It’s this that finally draws out a full laugh from Frank Castle, as she knew it would. “I’m pretty certain that permit just said ‘I can do whatever the hell I want’,” remarks the man good-naturedly as he settles down beside her on the bed. “You still queasy?”

“Less. But still.” She wrinkles her nose again. Wonders why her hair smells like bubblegum. “Did you.. uh..” She hedges the words carefully. Doesn’t want to presume. “Did you wash my hair?”

“Yeah. Micro’s idea. Said it’d make you feel better to wake up with clean hair and stuff.” His hand hovers nervously over the blankets she’s buried under. She raises her head slowly. Meets his furtive gaze head-on. “Are you.. uh..?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” She smiles, more real this time, and folds her hand around his own. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things. Didn’t expect it’d go that badly.”

Frank looks like he swallowed a good-sized chunk of lemon. His breathing goes irregular for a moment, as if he is no longer in the room with her but somewhere else entirely. She curls her fingers around his. Weighs him down and waits him out. When he finally does speak, his voice is scratchy. Rough with disuse, as though he’s only ever said these words in his head before. She senses the need that drives them. The worry. The fear.

“Thought you were.. weren’t gonna make it. Thought that night would be it. I’d never get to..” He lets out a shuddering breath. “You.. uh.. you..”

“I scared you.” Her voice is just as soft as his. “I’m here now. I’m okay. That’s what counts.”

It has to count. They both don’t voice the fear that one day they won’t be in the same place. If there’s one thing her life has taught her, it’s that everything is a fleeting series of moments. She just tries to hold on to the good.

Thinks she succeeds at a part of that when he sweeps his legs up on the bed and comes to lay beside her. Knows she succeeds at some of it when she wakes again to soft lips brushing against her brow and the smell of chicken soup wafting into her nostrils.

In these moments, fleeting in her life as they may be, Karen Page thinks she’s going to be just fine.

[softiechris]

(For the br) I had a weird day. A man came up to asking if I wanted to buy his cow named Pickle. He kinda just walked off before I could even answer.. Congrats btw!!

i would buy a cow named pickle tbh

urli don’t get it.. sorry // nice!! // i just nut // how the frickity frack did you get that?? // i’ve already stolen it

desktop themeehh it’s okay // cute! // ah i love // how even?? // where did you get this, heaven?

mobile themeit’s aight // v cool // im // BEAUT // *dies*

iconwh0t? // cute! // that’s a v lovely human you’ve got right there // GORGEOUS // *screeches because i love it so much*

postsnot my kinda stuff // pretty cool // quality content *finger guns* // iM lOvE // *flips table*

am i following?no, buuuut you’re still lovely // i am now! // *SMASHESFOLLOWBUTTON* // ofc you’re lovely // i’d die before i’d unfollow you

aestheticpastel colours // oversized sweaters // fairy lights // cherry blossoms // star gazing

feelinglate night driving with the windows down // songs that make you nostalgic // laughing until you cry // long hugs from someone you love and care about // staying awake until the sun comes up

hogwarts housegryffindor // hufflepuff // ravenclaw // slytherin

song recommendationease my mind by haley kiyoko

commentsi love your mobile theme, it gives me such a strong vibe? kinda like nostalgia idk. and also you’re probably one of my favourite mutuals

send an ask telling me about your day or your favourite blog and reblog my original post (which can be found under the tags below) and i’ll give you a blog rate