• Me:*wakes up at 11:15*
  • Mom:it's about fucking time
  • Me:I didn't sleep
  • Mom:and?
  • Me:...I got like three hours of sleep
  • Mom:I don't give a shit you're supposed to be an adult this is why you'll never get a job and you'll fail in life see maybe if you didn't drop out of college this wouldn't be an issue but no you can't "handle" anything in life can you and you need to stop sleeping in so damn late you can't lay on your ass forever you need to fucking do something
  • Me:....okay
I want a romantic bootycall who's my best friend.

Think I’m joking? I’m not. I want to be with someone I can call or text any time of day & be like “I’m horny” or “I’m stressed” or “I’m bored” & they’ll come over when they can so we can fuck just like that (& vice versa).

But I also want someone who, when I’m struggling to study or stressed about things, is down to bring me ice cream or pizza & help me feel like I’m not alone & that someone cares. Who’ll make me laugh or Netflix binge with me as we cuddle or just hold me as I cry. But they also need to be someone who’ll tell me to suck it up & stop being a little bitch when I’m being a little bitch because I know damn straight I can be. Someone who will say no to me when they know I need to hear it because they know I’ll be stronger if they do.

Someone I can trust. The kind of person I can tell anything & everything to because they’ll do the same & we both know neither of us has any ulterior motives. Someone who won’t lie or hide things because they know I can handle anything reasonable & I know they’ll do the same. Someone that makes me learn to have space in a relationship so I don’t become so dependent. Someone I can grow with & mature with as a person.

Someone who loves to travel. Spontaneity is a huge plus. Road trips, holiday trips, anything. I want someone who has as much wanderlust at me. Who wants to try all the food & go all the places & see all the art & do all the things! Sounds silly, but I put so much stock into life experiences like these that build up one’s character & culture.

They also have to be someone I can party with. I want us to be able to smoke & drink together like it’s no one’s business. Someone who will hold my hair back when I go a little too hard (or me theirs). Someone who gets so high they stop making sense & we can laugh for hours about it as we reach clouds so high we start using the alphabet to name them. Someone who can appreciate these kinds of times with me.

Someone who likes photos. Taking them or at least being in them. I’m obsessed with documenting my life—probably because of how insignificant I feel, but that’s a whole other post I have yet to write—& the lives of those around me. I’m sentimental as hell. I cherish my memories but my brain’s lack of ability to recall detail makes me want to have evidence of most everything. I want someone who’s okay with that & who will even feed my obsession, at least a little. I just want us to make art & be art together because that is what life is to me.

It’s quite a list of demands, I know. & I’ll probably end up with someone who’s none or maybe a few of these things, but for now, this is what I want. I’m at a point in life where I just want to make those deep connections & explore the world so I can grow. This, I think, is the kind of ideal person who will help me do that. Maybe they exist, maybe they don’t. No matter what though, this is the person I’m meant to look for. If they’re out there, I hope we find each other.

So hurry up, “bae.” I’m bored, I’m stressed, & damn am I horny.

The ring slides easily over the top of the very center bottle, and Zayn indulges in a self-satisfied smirk.

The guy looks genuinely shocked. “How did you do that?” he demands. “This game is impossible!”

"Beginners luck, I guess," Zayn answers. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

"The blue dog," Liam says.

"You heard him," Zayn says to the booth-runner, who’s still gaping at Zayn in astonishment. "He wants the blue dog."

The man goes about getting the giant stuffed dog down. When he hands it over, Liam has to wrap both arms around it to hold it. It’s softer than it looks, plush in his arms, and he’s grinning ear-to-ear like a child, not the eighteen year-old he is.

"Satisfied?" Zayn asks as they walk away.