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ayamturd · 3 years

Text

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there.

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist.

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying.

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants.

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy.

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then.

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes.

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling.

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him.

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return.

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement.

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air.

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up.

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place.

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle.

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke.

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction.

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly.

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height.

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained.

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side.

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them.

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure.

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself.

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering.

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding.

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.

“No last name?”

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe.

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile.

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand.

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface.

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child.

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold.

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell.

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps.

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south.

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be.

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt.

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away.

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him.

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened.

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch.

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered.

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation.

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug.

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after.

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input.

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly.

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again.

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt.

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare.

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response.

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism.

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them.

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes.

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him.

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him.

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again.

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking.

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house.

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand.

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face.

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion.

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate.

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms.

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain.

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish.

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed.

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to.

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly.

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups.

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning.

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them.

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective.

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake.

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk.

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment.

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained.

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey.

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond.

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him.

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #technoblade imagines #technoblade x gn!reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #father!technoblade x reader #platonic!technoblade x reader

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shurisneakers · 6 years

Text

espresso [6]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, near panic attacks, angst (?)

A/N: this is my entry for the exuberant @odinhson‘s writing challenge thank you to @samingtonwilson for beta-ing this for me

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 5 || Espresso Masterlist

Becca: binch

Becca: if i don’t get my nourishment i will Wilt and Die

Becca: if i get out of this bed rn i will literally Cry

Becca: pls get me a coffee kind sir,,, i will be gr8ful

You: um

You: i’ll get it later ok lov u

Becca: wtf why

You: im going to meet fucky at the library

You: *bucky

Becca: youre going to meet my brother again?

You: yes he said he was studying there anyway so I could go meet him there

You: why

Becca: nothing it’s just

You: it’s just?

Becca: nvm it’s nothing go see that smelly bitch biscuit

Becca: but get me the drugs when u come back

_____________

The library was fairly populated for seven in the morning. And, though everyone looked like they could use at least a week’s worth of sleep, they trudged on.

Walking through the aisles, you let your fingers run over the spines of every book, relishing in the feel of their old leather under your touch. It didn’t take log before you found Bucky in the classics section, his back leaning against one of the bookshelves as he scanned the ones in front of him.

“Looking for something specific?” you asked quietly, making him snap his head towards you. He gave you a tired smile before reverting to his original state.

“The Catcher in the Rye. I wanted to borrow it again,” he sounded distant, like his mind was preoccupied.

“Again? You’ve read it more than once?”

“Three times,” he answered, eyes lighting up as he reached forward and grabbed an old, worn out book with a tearing paper cover. His fingers dusted it gently before he opened to the last page, his eyes skimming over the words.

“It’s your favourite book?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite book, to be honest.” He flipped it, examining the cover from back to front. “Just the most memorable one. It sorta stuck with me throughout.”

“Why?” you asked curiously, watching as he flipped through the pages, seemingly searching for something within the lines.

“Don’t ask, it’s just gonna come off as pretentious as shit,” he chuckled, shking his head bemusedly, but you could detect a hint of something else behind his words. Bucky loved writing. He loved words. This book obviously meant a lot to him.

“I don’t know who hurt you Bucky Barnes, but I’d sure as fuck want to know why you love that book so much.” You heard a hush on the other side of the bookshelf, making you peep through the shelves only to catch the disapproving glare of the librarian who apparently caught you using unparliamentarily language.

“No one’s hurt me, it’s just-“ he paused to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, letting his hand linger there. “I didn’t think anybody would care.”

“Oh.” You nudged his foot with yours, making him look at you in surprise. “Well, I care, so go ahead.”

He eyes never left yours and you could see a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Cute ass motherfucker.

Wait-

“Um, I guess it’s kinda because– the thing is– see, I–“ his mouth was moving at a speed much swifter than his brain, you could see it. It was like he had so much to say, almost too much. You gave him an encouraging smile as he took a deep breath to calm himself down before beginning again.

“I’ve read it three times. Every single time it means something different to me, you know? It’s like the words are familiar but everything’s changed,” he tried to convey what he was thinking, but it was clearly something hard to talk about because Bucky rarely ever ran out of words.

“‘Don’t ever tell anyone anything, if you do you start missing everybody.’,” he recited from memory finally showing you the page he stopped on. You shuffled closer to him, leaning on his shoulder to get a better look at the book in his hand. “It’s really hard for me to let others in. Everything becomes too intimate and when they decide to pack up and leave because they can’t handle my shit, it just—it hurts. It’s one of my favorite quotes.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, as he looked at you for a few seconds in silence, not making an attempt to say anything.

“Right, so-“ he cleared his throat, pulling away to put the book back where it belonged. “His name’s Loki. He’s slightly difficult at first, but all he needs is just a little love and attention and he’s good to go.”

“Are we talking about a succulent or a person?” You remained where you were, feeling strangely lightheaded. Bucky glanced at the big clock overhead before returning to you.

“You’ll see.” He winked, shifting from one foot to another. “Now go! I have an hour to spend with calculus and you are going to be late for your first class.”

“You got a shift at the coffee shop today? I could come see you after,” you asked, facing him while walking backwards, your feet moving automatically.

“Not tonight, fam. I’m busy,” he said, looking down just for a second.

“Whatcha up to, barista boy? You got a hot date?” you teased him lightly, shoving your fists into your pockets, delaying your exit.

“I do, actually,” he fired back, making you freeze in your tracks.

“You’re going on a date?” you asked incredulously, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah. Met an old friend of mine last week and we’re going out tonight.” He shrugged, giving you a half smile.

“Oh shits.” Well, that was new. It had been ages since Bucky had gone out with someone. “Use protection, ya nasty. Don’t want any mini versions of you running around.”

“Yeah, totally. We’re gonna go grab something to eat and fuck behind the church in my pickup truck.” He rolled his eyes, laughing to himself as you snorted.

“You’ve always been a huge part of the Jesus fandom,” you called out, grimacing when you heard the librarian hiss a ‘Quiet!’ at you again.

“Have fun, James. I’ll catch you later.” You shoved your hands further into your pockets, turning around and jogging out before he could get another word in.

_____________

You didn’t expect the goth version of Sabrina the Teenage Witch at the entrance of your building that evening, sporting a look of disdain with a hint of boredom, gracefully covered up with a smile. He was dressed to the nines in all black, which matched his dark hair and starkly contrasted his fair, almost too pale skin.

“You’re Y/N, I presume?” you could hear the remnants of an accent that wasn’t common to your area. He sounded tired but it looked like he was making an effort, so you weren’t completely put off.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Loki, right?”

“That’s me. Did James tell you where we’re going tonight?”

“Bucky doesn’t take the effort to tell me anything useful, so I’m pretty uninformed.” You followed him as he walked towards the gate of the compound, his fingers toying with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“That’s weird because I swear he asked me for everything ranging from my birth certificate to my social security number. He wouldn’t even give me your dorm address without it,” he said drily, his smile actually making him look really nice.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, so there’s that carnival or a fair or something that’s come up. I figured we could go check it out.” He gestured to his car.

“Sounds fun.” You offered him a helpful smile, accepting his invitation without much hesitation. Maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed.

_____________

The whole fair was illuminated with lights from the different stalls and you could smell the calories in the air as kids ran around with cotton candy and popcorn and funnel cakes. The ratting of the roller coaster tracks and peals of laughter subconsciously made your heart lift and a grin settled on your face.

“What do you want to do first?” you asked loudly, trying to speak over the crowd.

“I don’t know. It’s so noisy. I wish everyone would just shut up.” He scrunched up his nose in disdain, leaving you to stare at him.

“How about grabbing something to eat first? I’m starving,” you suggested, earning a nod from him as you both made your way down to where most of the food stalls were.

Churros, funnel cake, caramel apples, popcorn and just about everything deep fried was put on display and it smelled pretty fucking great.

“D’you want to try out the hypertension or diabetes on a stick?” you laughed, eyeing everything separately.

“Uh—“ he paused, flinching. “I think I’m good.”

“Not even cotton candy?”

“Definitely not.” He shook his head, eyebrows crinkled in disgust.

“Well, okay, man.” You shrugged, not letting his preferences stop you from going ahead and buying the first thing that caught your eye and had your mouth watering.

He followed you silently through the entire process, only passing an occasional comment on how greasy it was or how unhealthy it was. You took it as a personal challenge to count how many times he nearly gagged.

“Rides or stalls?” You could already predict the kind of night you were in for and at this point you were too tired to not have fun with it.

“Rides, I suppose. We’re too old for the stalls.” He clicked his tongue, putting his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, staring disapprovingly at you.

“Oh, you are so right. Papa forbade me from playing games lest I fall victim to pride and immaturity. So pleased that throwing balls into holes is age restricted.” You threw some more popcorn into your mouth, feeling his stare burn into your face as you looked at him without any emotion.

“Didn’t you grow out of them after you turned, I don’t know, fifteen? How old are you?”

“You’re absolutely correct. We should hit the rides soon. I may not last fifteen minutes more. I’m practically decomposing as we speak.” You grinned at him making your way to the roller coaster, leaving him to match your pace.

“Roller coasters?” He called after you, rushing to catch up.

“Yes. Do you not like them?”

If this somehow greasier Tommy Wiseau said anything worse, you swore you literally would tear-

“I just think they’re too jumpy. And erratic. And noisy.”

You spun around wildly to face him, mouth dropping open. “What exactly did you expect from a fair, Lucky?”

“Loki.”

“Gesundheit. Have you ever been to a fair before or-“

You were just about to launch into a large rant when someone’s grip on your shoulder cut you off.

“Mario? What are you doing here?” The all-too-familiar voice made you instantly calm down as your best friend’s brother, your lord and savior, stepped near one of the most annoying people you could have met.

Which would be met with a more enthusiastic response had it not been for the presence of a girl with the most curly red hair accompanying him. She had her arm around his waist whilst his was secured around her shoulders and you immediately felt your words die down in your throat.

“Ah, James. We were just on our date.” He narrowed his eyes at you and you rolled yours at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, man. I thought you were taking her to that restaurant down the road?” he questioned as the girl with him sent you a smile. Of course she’d have dimples.

“Thor told me this would better fit her,” Loki replied wearily.

“Wait a minute- you know Thor?”

“Know him?” Loki scoffed. “He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Given, we’re adopted siblings but I have to put up with his nonsense regardless.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re the bitchy drama goth brother Thor talks about.”

“Bitchy drama goth— you’re lucky you got set up with me and not our sister.”

“I guess this date went super well?” Bucky piped up before you both clawed each other’s throats out.

“Simply wonderful.”

“Great.” He smiled awkwardly, before seemingly remembering who he had with him. “Oh shits, yeah—this is Dolores. Dot. Doll. I don’t know-“

“Dot is fine.” She smiled again, extending her hand in a shake. She had a flower tucked into her ear, matching the colour of her long skirt. Of course she did.

“This is Y/N, my sister’s best friend and that’s Loki,” Bucky introduced live-action Merida to you, as she gracefully replied with a small nod.

“You guys done?” Dot asked, switching her gaze between Loki and you.

“Yup, just finished. Loki was about to drop me off at my place. How about you?” You ignored your date altogether, instead focusing on how relaxed Bucky looked, none of his usual creases to be seen on his face. You liked it.

“I think we’ll hang around for a bit more. What do you say?” She looked up at him and Bucky nodded, a soft smile taking over his face.

“Sounds good to me. Text me when you get home, okay?” he reminded you, suddenly meeting your gaze. Your eyebrows furrowed at the intensity with which he was looking at you, but you gave him a thumbs up, agreeing.

“See ya tomorrow, Mario. Get home safe, please?” He waved one more time, as did Dolores, before they both made their way into the crowd, but not before Bucky threw you one more glance over his shoulder.

“Are you this hostile with every person your friends date or only James?” Loki sniggered from besides you, earning a sharp glare.

“One more word from you Severus and I will buy the oiliest piece of funnel cake and shove it down your throat.

But his words didn’t go over your head. You knew exactly what he was talking about and apparently it was so glaringly obvious that even others could see it.

Yikes.

Part 7

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #college!bucky #college!au #college!bucky x reader #kumis5kchallenge

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latelierderiot · 6 years

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Summer event!! ⁽⁽٩(๑˃̶͈̀ ᗨ ˂̶͈́)۶⁾⁾

We’re finally here!!!! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ

For those of you who are new, or just missed it when I announced it, instead of doing a giveaway for my 1k followers milestone I’m doing an event (x).

Since I expected to reach the milestone sometime in summer, and wanted to do something for the Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day, I merged both things in a summer event!

so, what is this summer event?

I asked my followers to choose a scene from the fic they wanted and send it to me, so I could draw it. I did a raffle and randomly selected 6.

They’ll be posted on August 21st Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day (starting at 1am (CET) until the day ends) :D.

I’ll do a masterpost/shout out post with all of them (once I’m back*)

what should you expect on Aug 21st?

· 6 colored sketch drawings (w/ a link to the fic and author ofc)

· My own selected fic&writer (because halfway through this I thought that maybe I could add my own rec)

· A teeny-tiny surprise :D

and I’m asking you to show writers (not only they ones I’ll be posting) all the love they deserve, kudos and comment their work!!♥

I said before I’d post the NSFW entries on the other blog, but I’ve thought it better and I prefer to have them all together, so if you want to avoid them, they’ll be tagged as #nsfw

I’ll be on holidays from the 21st to the 29th, and I won’t have internet/wifi, but worry not! I’ve left the posts scheduled, so unless tumblr fucks it up, there should be posts during all day :D and since I won’t be here to reblog them a few times at different hours, remember to check the blog pls♥

since I won’t be here, if there’s any mistake, or something is wrong, let me know and I’ll fix it once I’m back.

(in case someone comes asking) you can add the pic to your fic!! no need to ask for that!!

I had problems tagging some people, usually I send the post via pm to whoever I can’t tag, but since I won’t be here I won’t be able to do it, so please check the blog♥

(reblog the posts and leave kudos/comments on the fics pls, spread the love♥)

((and if you want to come and scream at me, or whatever, I’ll see it once I’m back))

I’ve spent a lot of time working on this, this is the reason I haven’t post anything in the past 2 months, I hope it’s worth it

Also, listen, this may be sappy AF but my main goal is, hopefully, to make the author happy and the prompter happy (an the rest of u ofc), because that’d make me the happiest. I’m not in the best place right now, (my) RL is shitty AF, or at least I’m not comfortable with it, and as sad as it sounds this blog has been a life saver, so I want to try and keep this a positive place.

This is a thank you to all of you who follow me and support me, and to the writers, because fics have been a way to vent I didn’t know I needed.

Love you guys!

#ixo eriot #summer event #1k summer event

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 6 years

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Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Albania to Eurovision with ethno beats

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Sorry to be late to start all this, but you know, Albanians love doing their show around the Christmas period - whether before or after. xD So after this show, I was rather engulfed in Christmas and stuff, packing the gifs for every family member, putting them under the tree and waking up to see their (belated) reactions to their own gifts. Oh, and a festive dinner on the Eve. (And now it's been less than 1 and a half months since the end of this!)

But enough about that, you guys are here for my honest review, right?

Right.

I, for one, am a true fan of the ridiculous runtime of Festivali i Këngës në Radiotelevizion Shqiptar (and how the full lenght title is pronounced with the broadcaster’s name included every other single time), and that's because it allows me to discuss every single detail that I see, that goes wrong, that's just plain hilarious, and printscreen those said things. Among all these weird sights that can be seen during the interval acts and advertisements there's at least one instance of somebody in the show being such a "mood". Just like the broadcaster's current higher up for all things Eurovision at home (i.e.: commentator, spokesperson and occasional conversator), Andri Xhahu:

“mmhmm sure, keep on telling how much you love all the acts while I pretend I care, but in fact I’d rather just go home and eat something real quick”

Trust me, everyone in this show is a master of not giving a single damn. Artists, backings, instrumentalists, interval acts even maybe? All kinds of people in Albania are just mediocred out by things happening in FiK, thus nothing is remotely surprising!

Well, except for the results this year. Sure, everyone had their little outrage on social media the very time it was revealed that the international public’s darling Mirud did not impress the FiK jurors enough to qualify, but others were simply rejoicing that at least another big fave qualified - and to the fans’ dy shokë, a favourite won once again! And this one is an artsy, mid-tempo call to all of the abroad Albanians to “return to the land”, provided by the one and only, Jonida Maliqi.

And so you thought a big FiK favourite wouldn’t manage to win 2 years in a row... let alone reach Eurovision. It was nearly a given FiK juries could rather have had their traditional FiK-ness when picking the winner and that it would have become Lidia Lufi or even one of those old people, one of them being THE CONDUCTOR OF THE WHOLE SHOW (and if he was not qualifying, he’d probably have been ultra upset and leave his position from FiK’s orchestra that he has now observed every year since idk), so it’s refreshing to see Albania take on some new winds - last year with Eugent Bushpepa, this year with Jonida. Not that she was a big favourite of mine though, but you know, “Mall” was so incredibly difficult to top standart-wise that I actually didn’t really mind letting go of the songs by Dilan Reka, Klinti Çollaku and Alar Band (and 3 more nonqualifiers) emotionally. I mean, with the competition this incredibly improving in competence and easy good winners, it was a given that none of these would have even come close to reach a stellar placing in the final leaderboard of FiK. And yes, I consider my taste incredibly out of fashion with what everyone wants. Thank you for noticing.

When I first heard this, I didn’t really have a great impression on this track - the 1st verse/chorus and the 2nd verse/chorus have an extreeeeemely long gap between each other, which bothered me. Shouldn’t the song have some short enough gateway to pass the point across easier? The second thing is that it’s a little too slow. Not long after she won I became acquainted with the song’s Nightcore versions (yep! 2 of them exist apparently), and going back to he studio version of this, the slowness of it put me off. But on later listens I managed to appreciate its better qualities - the song is intense, tackles a decent topic (which will probably be underlooked if the staging does not account for it clearly enough - looking at you France 2018), the folksy interlude is too precious to be gotten rid off for the upcoming revamp (I just think it needed to be placed elsewhere... until I realized it is in an alright position songwise), the backing vocals at the last few seconds add some charm to the song, and at least there are some vocalisations! Juries obviously love it when an act tests their high vocal abilities, and often great notes don’t go too unnoticed by them. Remember why was Eugent’s performance so loved by the juries - if he haven’t done THAT, nothing would have given him a final ticket in the first place.

So that means that the first time viewers at home have a hefty fine chance to also not get what’s happening, right? Unless the music gets drastically devamped (like in 2016) and the performance is too heavy to connect with this song, it is probably going to do alright. The 2nd night performances this FiK were all devoted to the idea of preparing the acts for Eurovision in an unavoidable case of one of them winning. And Jonida’s performance uses rather cartoonish (but decent cartoonish) city-at-night shots in the background (with street lamps, traffic lights, maybe a bridge and the rest) and several random dancers too, which you can see for yourselves below:

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(I’d like to inform her though that constantly interchanging street motives on the background aren’t a very good addition - Latvia 2009 went with all-round street and city signs and that didn’t work, and the 2009 stage was HUGE! Also maybe the dress is a little too extravagant for the topic of the song but that’s a nitpick. Sorry about it)

And even though it’s just 1 song (and the reason the top 1s keep poping up right after FiK is over - a common practice even among very small Eurovision fan Youtube channels) (edit: now we have 4 songs at the point of me finishing this but still), I do believe that already writing it off is harsh. Obviously the Albanian revamp curse is going to take place, but sometimes it comes to a complete advantage if the artist knows what he or she is doing and how to turn everything to their strenght rather than weakness. Eugent just happened to do more impressive vocal heights than Lindita. And Eugent didn’t even need to wear something too extra unlike Lindita, which for some reason was having to deal with a bridal attire..? not a really suitable wear for a song about world problems, yanno what I mean?? So it’s for the better if Jonida’s team doesn’t have to harm the song all too much, choose a connecting staging, do something piercing about it, don’t make Jonida look like a clown on stage, and generally don’t let her come across as too weird and cold-hearted. She should be seen pouring her heart out and let the world know that she’s talking to the Albanians (and hopefully even Kosovars) ‘round the world - to all the Ritas, to all the Duas, to all the Bebes.

Approval factor: I didn’t say I hate it so I approve it wholeheartedly! Yes I like.

Follow-up factor: in my sole opinion I would still find “Mall” way better but this current entry is good enough also, so it’s obviously a fair enough follow-up after the previous and the rest past entries for Albania.

Qualification factor: somewhere in the middle of things right now, if only Jonida’s capable of making everythhing against her work in her favour and shock the naysayers like Eugent did post-revamp that looked like it killed his chances

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

If you don’t want to read any more of my review from this point on, just simply leave this post, thanks!

But if, however, you do want to read these post-ramblings, pls b mah frien.

So did we have Fest 57 through and it always delivered a fiesta of too many ads and too many intervals. Like you could have sworn that this show should have ended 5 years earlier than initially planned. Yet you wake up and find it still going, but more in the post-show form, with the jury still continuing to blabber about what exactly do they like in a contestant’s song for some reason. And then, when you least expect anything to happen - they mention “lista finale”! Ahh what a miracle.

Anyway, in this segment I’m here to highlight some special things that have happened:

• The puppetmaster from Night 2. No one knew what was that for, no one knew why was it needed, no one knew if it was even a little bit funny. But this Francesca Michielin’s auntie delivered a bunch of stuffed ‘humans’ to show around in front of the camera and stage something out of them. And the world was s h o o k

• Sound problems. One contestants had quiet mics at the beginning of the song (and this is FiK, which means that the poor acts WILL get a definite repeat of their entry, even if they had said their word against it. Sorry Miss Põldvere...), and another act got away with the entirety of it being completely not tuned in correctly soundwise, thus sounding completely all reverb-y and at one point even the mic feed for the backings was louder than the vocals of the artist. Hilariously enough, the both reprised acts won an award!

• Speaking of which, everyone thought that the first award of the night was actually the winner announcement. Even me. Oh how much we were falsely alarmed on this particular thing... xD

• Obviously the results. I honestly don’t think that Mirud’s nonqualification is such a mystery, despite the fact that as of lately the FiK juries are down for uplifting the audience faves. But I saw something that could have turned his song into something unbearably weak and nondescript, despite his pain and heart streamed out in bold colors through the song, considering this is the country that revamps their entries a lot. It could have been, and I’m dreading to say this but I am gonna say it anyway, a meaningless R’n’B ballad trying to show something, but projecting it too weakly. Of course I liked it, but I wouldn’t have pointed at it saying; “that right there, it’s definitely a contender”. But I definitely felt sorry for him and his song. Look what I messaged him:

• Dilan Reka’s quality stepdown. Look, I didn’t even listen to “Mos harro” as of yet, but I can definitely feel that “Karma” is some sort of a sub-par standart entry everyone gave hard time for because it wasn’t as likeable as “Mos harro”, which could have been the beginner of the good Albanian streak I suppose had it won the NF over Lindita? Or at least that’s what the fans think. Anyways, I liked “Karma” and I don’t ever want to stop defending its fun factor. The only thing not worth defending in this is Dilan’s styling:

No but WHO TOLD HIM YELLOW SUNGLASSES AND THIS SUIT WERE A GOOD IDEA???? leave.

• The girl who sang "Hallelujah" during a results break (there were several of these, can you believe that?). That was presumably Ana Kondra (you know, the one that advised to not touch her tree two years back? In JESC?) presumably singing in a personally warped take on English language, if not the actual English.

• Somewhere in the world there was hype-a-comin’ for these two: the cheap beats queen Soni Malaj and the retro hipster queen Orgesa Zaimi. While I can’t say I disliked their songs legit, it beats me as to what is attracting people to support the latter a lot, considering Orgesa submitted a bit of a huge stepdown from the cheerful “Ngrije zërin“. She at least retained her hipster attire though, even if without those French sunglasses. Oh and as for Soni, I gotta commend the Eurofan audience for still giving in some cheap Balkan pop trash! Though for country like Albania, it was never gonna win anyways. And I wasn’t hyped either. Seriously, who thought that adding some extra confused guys spout “bum bum bum” at the beginning was remotely GOOD??

Think I noted all momentswise. May I add that I’m glad to hear Jonida was allowed to sing in Albanian by RTSH (who apparently DECIDE what kind of language is more fitting for their own entry once it’s decided it’s ready for Eurovision???? I feel you, Elhaida’s composer from FiK 2014, if I had to face these rules, I’d have quit too)? It definitely takes this song up for advantage, and who cares if no one can understand it - we still have had an Albanian song about personal matters qualify, plus it was performed live on such an unfortunate occasion back at home so the power had to be extremely maxed out for that to work, and it did.

And one last thing: I did only watch the final of this, and the first time I heard this performed live, I was lowkey convinced this would indeed win because the orchestra made it sound like a stereotypical FiK winner - dramatic female ballad/midtempo/whatever having this dramatic power in chorus with all of the instruments blown right onto it. Not even the rest of the top 3 and other ballads this year were this much instrumentally packed. So there goes.

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #albania 2019 #jonida maliqi #ktheju tokës #albania

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lewiselder · 8 years

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the prayer

my first post about the trainer happened around October. i wrote that entry on Wednesday, February 22nd. this particular event happened the next day.

the next day. Thursday, February 23rd.

I texted a couple people about it - Ian, Dana, Jake. i wasn’t sure what to do with it. i was legitimately worried if i posted about it right away that it might seem like i’m bullshitting. instead i’m taking it as a sign. from, uh, (god?) that making this, uh, (blog?) was a good idea. so thanks, guy who i’m about to roast in detail.

SO, it was Thursday of last week. i had gotten off work a little early and went to the gym.

yeah...the same fucking gym lol

maybe there’s something to be said about Lifetime Fitnesseses. fitnesseses? fitnesseses. or maybe there’s something to be said about the kind of people who can afford a gym that is at least $70/month. probably the latter.

but i dye grass. so i’m at the gym, in the beginning sets of squatting. from the corner of my eye i notice a dude near me who looks like he’s trying to get my attention. i do every gym go-ers favorite move - stop what i’m doing, take my sweaty headphones off, and turn to dr distracto.

doctor distracto MD says to me in a syrupy voice, “Are you using this?” - referencing a bench near my squat rack.

i say no.

distracto, DDS then says, “hey man we met in the locker room yesterday.”

one armed handsome hero, “oh yeah, i remember...how’s it going?”

***FLASHBACK***

the night before i was getting my shit out of the locker before going home. a dad and his teenage son were using a locker next to me. i had seen them at the gym a few times before. i mostly recognized them because the teenage son always wore these old adidas crazy quick joints that Tim Duncan and John Wall wore in like 2013.

^^^these ones. notice how i capitalize Tim Duncan and John Wall but not doctor distracto phd. also notice The Big Fundamental’s face here - not entirely dissimilar to mine whilst conversing with professor distractathon.

any who. this dad ass dad (aka distracto - keep up) and his son ass son are next to me in the locker room. dad ass dad just kinda slides in my ear DMs with a quick, “i see you here a lot.”

“yeah, i’m here too much” - my standard response to that comment, which gets a laugh like 65% of the time.

dad ass dad goes on to introduce himself as will (i think). nice name there, will. he made a couple random comments about idk, the fucking gym or whatever, pretty small talk-y. then we part ways.

***FLASH FORWARD***

so i’m at the squat rack in the middle of asking will (maybe it was bill?) how it was going after he mentioned we had met last night. then bill (phil?) hits me with what, in my life, is the conversational equivalent of an off ball screen you never see coming (but i kinda always see it coming)

phil (gill?) - gill goes: “so how long have you been dealin’ with that?” - sort of gesturing with his chin at my arm.

me: “uh kinda a while lol i was born with it.”

willbillphilgill aka distracto aka dad ass dad, in his slow, southern, lawn chair with a bud light voice goes: “Would you mind if i prayed with you?”

lol uh

i said something like - uh, well i don’t really pray...

dad ass dad kinda cuts me off there and goes: “i’ll lead it”

“okay” i say, interested as to what was about to happen. dad ass dad then clasps my right hand in a kind of like, white guy dap stance.

so i’m standing there. hand in hand with some middle aged texan. in the middle of a lifetime fitness. at 4pm on a thursday. while his teenage son stands next to us.

then this motherfucker really begins a prayer. it went something like this.

Dear God. We ask that you heal Lewis here. May he be healed with all of your grace, mercy, and love. All this we ask of you, Lord. Thank you. Amen.

qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm

i quickly felt the holy spirit wash over my poor, withered husk of an arm. yes lord!

nah but i did get to smell his fucking meat breath.

now mind you this is the day after i’ve started a blog to chronicle, oh i don’t know, THIS EXACT SHIT lol. so him and i release our caucasian clasp. i kinda laugh and say thanks. i don’t remember what he said but it wasn’t much. him and his son wander off, presumably to go reconvene with the other missionaries scouring the gym floor for lepers in need.

ps - i wonder if this guy and the trainer would have a spirited argument about science vs religion? ROBOT ARM! NO - GOD ARM! NO, ROBOT ARM! NO...

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

so i stand there. shocked? angry? happy? i was definitely well aware that this was fucking perfect for the project i had just undertaken. so, if nothing else, this blog has already turned what would have been an otherwise unpleasant experience into a (prettygoddamnoffensive) silver lining. big ups to the six, three of which are me in different states of mania, of ya’ll that will read this. srsly. ty.

so. yuh. the day after i write about that fucking god damn trainer, this happens lol.

honestly, i was a lot less mad at this guy than i was at the trainer. i really don’t know why. maybe because this dude wasn’t as ready to slice me up, or maybe i was just in a better mood. obv not great that he sees my arm as a disease to an otherwise healthy young man, but....

ALSO - gotta address the handicapped elephant in the room which has to be - what exactly did this dude mean/think would happen when he said “heal.” like, is god boutta catch me asleep one day and i just wake up with like 2 regular arms lol??? 2 elbows and 10 fingers and all that bougie shit???

man then i’d be just like ya’ll.

yuck.

jk - i’ll take one order of elbow pls.

but anyway. so another instance of austinites being boooooold as fuck. i’m starting to miss the “that ain’t my fucking problem” attitude of St. Louis *swoons* i think a lot of this shit is just more evidence of how dehumanized people with disabilities are. like, son, you wouldn’t go up to some dude with glasses and pray to god for his sight to be restored, would you? but for some reason, every fuckin texan with eyes and a pulse seems to think they have the moral obligation to put their fuckin brisket scoops (hands) on me and offer me their help, advice, and now prayer.

also, if this is what dads are like, i’m really not missing out on shit.

so. idk. i guess ball’s in your court @God

ps if u read this far, i’ll buy you a taco

#disability #disabled #luckyfin #lewiselder #lewis #elder #onearm #fuckyall #austin #texas #blog

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