Random Starters!

Send one! Change pronouns to suit muse. 

  • “Does your masochism extend to an enjoyment of being put in your place like the little bitch you are?”
  • “I’m going to furiously shit lava onto your phone if you text me another three hundred Japanese emoji.”
  • “What the fuck is swiping left and swiping right? I don’t fucking swipe anything, fuck that subtle shit. If I see it I take it and I don’t give a FUCK who’s looking, it’s mine.“
  • “I was using my Grandma’s computer and the last three searches on google were for the price of rat poison, some quotes on cheep funerals, and what the best dating sites are. Should I be worried about Grandpa?”
  • “Once I get paid that Hello Kitty Assault Rifle is MINE.”
  • “Godzilla must have a dick the size of a Winnebago, but we never get to see it? COME-ON TOHO COMPANY, GIVE US THE BUS SIZED LIZARD DICK”
  • “I am a gift from god himself, a treasure amongst you heathens, and I deserve to be fed as such.”
  • “Some people just, eat onions? Like they’re apples? Like they take a fucking bite out of an onion like it’s nothing? How do you fuck up as a person like that?”
  • “How do you super glue a four generation family tree back to its stump? Asking for a friend. His name is Redwood.”
  • “Nobody invited me out, which is too bad for them because my presence is a grace upon your otherwise lifeless existences.”
  • “You commit so much property damage when you’re drunk we should just call you Hurricane Fuckface.”
  • “You ever see a cake so beautiful you wanna fuck it? That’s how I felt when I ate my first phallic cake.”
  • “Having the flu isn’t an excuse to lay around all day sniffling. You know what would make you feel better? Infecting complete strangers, that’s what. Let’s go bowling!!”
  • “I!! Am not!! A person!! NO!!!”
  • “My friend tried to pull the ‘dick in the box’ joke on me, and then I kicked it. Now he’s in the hospital.”
  • “I tried to fuck an apple pie like in that one movie. It was pretty nice, until the next day when I found out I had a yeast infection.”
  • “Good morning. The cat took a shit in your shoes. Both of them. What do you want for breakfast?”
  • “Eat my food again and I’ll fling you into the sun by your ankles.”
  • “You know someone who’s like, sort of ugly, sort of okay looking, but then their personality just pushes it over the edge and they’re just ugly? That’s you.”
  • “Here lies your reputation, in the trash next to the empty bear bottles and a dead raccoon.”
  • “Yeah asshole, reading my diary was EXACTLY the key to mending our relationship.”
  • “Ever since I let you borrow my laptop, Google won’t stop giving me ads for ammonia in bulk and empty storage lots nearby. What exactly were you doing last weekend?”

Yo peeps, so as you can probably tell, I’m about to blow your mind. You might want to sit down, grab some water, you know, keep yourself hydrated. Maybe do a few stretches.

Now that you’re all ready, let’s begin! A girl who wrote about hotdogs and Costco got into Stanford and most Ivy League Schools, a student who wrote about his love for food got into Stanford, while Cornell’s admissions officer’s favorite essays were about lint and failing the driver’s test four times. Observing a pattern here? All these people chose kind of silly topics to write about. You might be wondering, “Yo,why would I want to sound stupid in front of the admissions officer, this doesn’t make sense!” . Well, that’s a valid argument. Now read this excerpt from one of the essays I mentioned above.

“While enjoying an obligatory hot dog, I did not find myself thinking about the ‘all beef’ goodness that Costco boasted. I instead considered finitudes and infinitudes, unimagined uses for tubs of sour cream, the projectile motion of said tub when launched from an eighty foot shelf or maybe when pushed from a speedy cart by a scrawny seventeen year old. I contemplated the philosophical: If there exists a thirty-­three ounce jar of Nutella, do we really have free will? I experienced a harsh physics lesson while observing a shopper who had no evident familiarity of inertia’s workings. With a cart filled to overflowing, she made her way towards the sloped exit, continuing to push and push while steadily losing control until the cart escaped her and went crashing into a concrete column, 52” plasma screen TV and all. Purchasing the yuletide hickory smoked ham inevitably led to a conversation between my father and me about Andrew Jackson’s controversiality"

Yes, yes, she’s literally talking about hot dogs and Costco. Now don’t underestimate her, this girl got accepted to 5 Ivy League Schools and Stanford. Jeez, that’s impressive. So now, you might be thinking , “Okay, enough of this, just get to the juicy part, give us the magic potion!” . Luckily enough for you, I’m getting to the point.

If you want to write an essay that slays everyone else’s like Beyoncé, first you gotta be true to yourself. You’re 17 or 18, you don’t want to end poverty or save the world. Maybe you enjoy pepperoni pizza, maybe you love watching horror films, maybe you love shopping at Macy’s, whatever it is, write about it.

The key is to choose a seemingly silly topic and present it in an intellectual light. Your ability to turn something silly into something genius will impress them and make you more memorable. In order to do that, you need to have a lot of knowledge about the topic you chose, which is why you need to be true to yourself. But then again, don’t write a pointless essay, don’t tell the officers that you can stuff 20 cheese balls in your mouth. Although I think it’s impressive, the admissions officer will beg to differ.

So there’s the secret formula to write a winning essay. Best of luck and I hope you get into your dream school!

Diyanshu Emandi

So Here’s A Thought . . .

I’ve had a thought, and I’ve seen it pop up among a-many battle-hardened and heavy heartened veterans (and soldiers) of customer service jobs.

“The customer is always right.”

Nothing makes a customer service worker tremble worse than those terrible words.  Nothing else sends such a despicable shiver of regret, remorse, and contempt down one’s spine.

“The customer is always right.”

Oh how we loathe that phrase.  How we hate it for everything it stands for, and what it means!

But I don’t think you guys ACTUALLY know what the phrase is ACTUALLY intended for.  Let me explain.

To put it into the most basic terms, there are two types of people in the business world: buyers and sellers.  Yeah it’s more complicated than that, but that’s what everything boils down to in its most rudimentary fashion.  You’re either buying something, or selling something.

So, to turn a profit, the SELLER has to be selling what the BUYER wants; i.e. the customer.  Let’s pretend the seller has a very nice fruit stand, selling an equal amount of oranges, bananas, apples, and peaches.  Let’s say 100 each.  In the first day, he sells ALL 100 peaches, 75 apples, 50 bananas, and ZERO oranges.  Logic dictates that not all of these fruits are equally wanted by his customers.  Meaning he has to change the stock of his fruits to meet the demand of the customers and to cut costs associated with purchasing/throwing out unwanted produce.

A smart man would then order more than 100 peaches (since he sold out, he’ll want to buy more to ensure he’s meeting proper demand). He’ll stock around the same amount of apples, a bit less bananas, and maybe only a handful of oranges.  Because the demand for peaches is obviously high while the demand for oranges is low, the seller will put his sales in what the customer wants.

Do you see where I’m going with this?

“The customer is always right.” ACTUALLY MEANS “the customer’s want for a product is always right.”


That’s why popular products are sold in such large numbers and revolve around sales.  That’s why large purchases have so many accessories and plans and knick-knacks associated with it.  Because, yeah you want a new TV, the seller KNOWS you want a new TV, so they’re going to do everything to make sure you get what YOU want and ALSO selling everything that goes along with it (pro tip, most of their profit is from the accessories, NOT the main big purchase itself).  So you want your fancy 48” plasma TV, well how about a WIFI hook-up and Netflix plan and a satellite deal and fifty thousand remotes and yada yada yada.

That’s what “the customer is always right” means.  

It does not mean that customers get to harass workers.  It does not mean that workers need to bend over backwards and grovel for a customer’s service.  It does not mean that PTA Soccer mom Brenda can order the most ludicrous thing ever which is physically impossible for the Starbucks barista to make and then scream and rage and throw a temper tantrum more fitting of a two-year old.

And it most certainly does not mean that customers can yell, scream, harass, or in any way shape or form abuse a worker and make ridiculous demands.

And if ANYONE dares to tell you otherwise, you may feel free to relay what you have all just learned, and then promptly stick your foot shin-deep in that person’s ass.


Send in one of the following quotes from HUA to get my muse’s reaction!

  • There! I took the fucking shot! She’s dead! There’s blood everywhere!
  • Okay, Christ, fine, I’ll help you. But only ‘cause you’ve got nice tits.
  • Hey, (name)! (name)! This is awesome! You should totally join in! Seriously, there’s like 40 zombies in here! Just one shot in the head and they explode! Just like House of the Dead, only like, 100 times more awesome!
  • Oh, fuck the hell yes.
  • Sweet Black-fucking-Sabbath!
  • Oh, if it isn’t the Catholic Church! And what’s this? No Little Timmy glued to your crotch? Progress!
  • You done goofed.
  • …you Protestant fuck-bucket.
  • I’m a fuckmothering vampire!
  • You are reading your master’s mind! Put my head between your booooooooobs!
  • Oh, I’m sorry, I like to dirty talk when someone’s sucking my dick.
  • It’s just that I’m so agitated, because this blond little shit just strolled into my room, destroyed my 70-inch plasma TV, and is trying to impress me like I’m his alcoholic father.
  • Ah, fuck it. Skull-fuckin’ for everybody!
  • I would do fucking anything right now to get out of this.
  • Oh fuck, that’s an anti-tank rifle. OH FUCK, THAT’S AN ANTI-TANK RIFLE!
  • What are you gonna do? Call that one guy who can stop me? What was his name…Michael McDoesn'tExist?
  • Get that bitch a cannon! Bitches love cannons.
  • What’s wrong, demigod? Just grow back your legs! Summon up your demons! Hit me! Fight me! Give me a hug!
  • You know, they say TV makes you violent. But I’d say not having my TV is making me pretty fucking violent!
  • Shut up and take my money!
  • Nazis~!
  • Master! My breasts keep getting bigger!
  • Jesus wants a hug!
  • Right this way, Group B! That’s right, right in front of everybody else; you’re eighty, you’re used to it! We’re going to look at art and paintings, which I believe are also art! I dunno! I’m Cockney, I’m uncultured!
  • That’s right. I’m going to FUCK the fear turkey!
  • HEY DANDY DICK! You missed.
  • The fuck is this? The fuck is that?! The fuck are THOSE?!
  • You cheeky dick-waffle!
  • Zis is my favorite kind of ship — laden with blood und seamen.
  • Chuh-chuh-chuh-CHECK YOUR PRIVILEGE!
  • Ah. The return of the “why” boner. With a vengeance.
  • By Jove, you fuckin’ header of a woman! You’re surrounded by fifty Nazi vampires, armed literally to the teeth, and what do you do?! You get out of your fuckin’ car, pull out your sword, cut off one of their heads, and yell “Come at me, you Kraut shits!” NO WONDER (name) wants to plow that virgin soil! I’M THINKING ABOUT GROWIN’ SOME FLOWERS MYSELF!
  • (thing) for days.
  • We were prepared for a full-on tactical assault. Instead, we got a volley of swastika-covered dipshits running dick-first into enemy territory.
  • Hey, if we’re killing Nazis, we’ll worship a side of bacon!

anonymous asked:

see, the problem I have with people lumping everything into "modern art" is that you get actually interesting pieces, and then things like "3 Strings" which is literally 3 strings hung from a ceiling, or this other piece I can't remember the name of that's a stick family drawn on a plasma tv screen. Note that these were all in a gallery. Modern art varies, and for every shitty thing there's a good thing.

Yeah it really does vary a lot. It’s like with most things, there’s good and there’s bad. It’s just that bad modern art LOOKS bad but also some people think it’s good because it’s done by a specific artist, which oftentimes defeats the purpose. Meanwhile there’s lots of really good artists who fail to get recognized, despite creating very nice looking art.

A lot of modern art gets passed up because it lacks any real form of symbolism, which to me is really nice because it places all the focus on the aesthetic quality of the work or the innovation of the medium. I saw one person who abused the qualities of 3d printers to create interesting designs. It was interesting because of her use of the medium, not what it meant, and that was nice to me.

Hellsing Abridged/RWBY

Glynda: So Qrow how was your mission in Mistral?

Qrow: Eh, I’d say ninety nine-

[Cut to Cinder stealing half of Amber’s power]

Qrow: - point nine percent finished. ‘sup?

Glynda: I need to talk to you about some important guests coming this evening.

Qrow: Are they hookers?

Glynda: No.

Qrow: And like that you’ve lost me.

Glynda: They’re our financial suppliers.

Qrow: Oh man they have to hate us right?

Glynda: They do, that’s why they cancelled our budget.

Qrow: Oh that’s bad, we need that right? Ozpin, we need that right?

Ozpin: Yes, Qrow, very important.

Qrow: Thank you, Ozpin.

Ozpin: Of course.

Glynda: Over the past few years we’ve had some… expensive claims.

Qrow: Such as?

Glynda: First off: Property Damage.

[Cue Fall of Beacon]

Qrow: Good times!

Glynda: Dozens of noise complaints.

Qrow: *loudly playing 'Bad Luck Charm’* BORING I CAN’T HEAR YOU!

Glynda: Killing at least a dozen innocent people.

Qrow: Oh so did Anthony Hopkins and he got an oscar for it!

Glynda: And…. all of the sexual harassment.

Qrow: …. I’m not apologising.

Glynda: Listen I know this is asking a lot but..

Qrow: But?

Glynda: I want you to keep yourself locked in the basement until all of them are gone.

Qrow: …. I get the distinct impression that you’re embarrassed of me.

Glynda: QROW.

Qrow: I’m gonna go with no.

Glynda: This is important and I don’t need you causing another scene.

Qrow: I don’t have to take this, I’m going for a walk.

Glynda: NO YOU DON’T!

Qrow: Oh what are you going to do? Get that guy who can stop me? What was his name? Michael McDoesn'tExist.

Glynda: *sigh* What. Do. You. Want?

Qrow: What?

Glynda: What, do I need to give you, to keep you down here for the evening?

Qrow: I’m going to need a new gun, also one for my niece.

Ruby: But I already have a gun!


Glynda: Anything else?

Qrow: A seventy inch… plasma wide screen TV.

Glynda: Really?

Qrow: With Netflix.

Glynda: Should it also be 3D?


Dorm Disorder (Chapter 1) 🌙

A/N: I’m going to put a trigger warning on this entire story because this series isn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. It’s about mental illnesses, abusive parents, cigarettes and alcohol, so don’t say I didn’t warn you! x

Character Appearance: OCs, Kris, Kai, Chanyeol, Luhan, Baekhyun, Amber

Warnings: Mentions of bipolar disorder, cigarettes, alcohol, self-harm

Word Count: 10,215

Soundtrack: Let Me Stay By Your Side // Luhan


Originally posted by fyeahluhan

Illnesses aren’t a joke. Mental illnesses, especially. Take it from someone who is actually suffering from it. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for my dad to leave us, I didn’t ask for my mum to be an ex-junkie, I didn’t ask to be claustrophobic and I especially didn’t ask to suffer from bipolar disorder.

My name is Ciara and I’m nineteen years old. To be blunt, I’m a fuck-up. Period. I was never a perfect little ass-licker like every goddamn girl out there in the world. Instead, I’m the exact opposite; I have cuts on my wrists, I smoke, my family is in a mess and my head is spinning round the globe with so many thoughts. Oh, and my best friends are my violin and my mum. I was a floater for the longest time, always spending time with my mum who is an ex-junkie like I said. Now don’t point fingers and start calling her a bad influence and shit. Sure, she’s the woman who went through so much and turned to drugs when it got so rough that she just wanted to kill herself. But, she’s also the woman who raised me up from nothing and kicked her drug addiction just for me and taught me how to live without anyone, a lesson learnt after my father left. My life was pretty messed-up for a long time…until one day, I walked into my therapist’s office and saw him sitting in the waiting room.

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Interviewing the ‘Friend’

Requested by: Anon

Request: Can you do something with Grant where the reader is an actress on either show with him idc and they’re being interviewed and the interviewer is asking the reader really mean questions and Grant sticks up for her? Romantic or non-romantic it doesn’t really matter :)

Word: 1,020

It was hard being an actress, through the countless auditions and rejections. It was even harder being an actress on a popular TV show such as Glee.  You loved singing and acting so when Glee was presented; it was something you auditioned for (among many other things). You had gotten the role as Sebastian’s best friend, Christina… who happened to go to William McKinley High.

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What I learned from TIME'S article on Trump after hours

-for dessert he eats two scoops of ice cream and a slice of chocolate cream pie
-Pence on the other hand has fruit for dessert
-Pence takes his lemonade with two scoops of sugar
-There is a 60" plasma screen TV and sometimes they just watch TV together
-Trump put in that chandelier
-They didn’t have to paint a room because there was already a coat of gold paint underneath the current paint so they just scraped it away
-They’re painting that door yellow
-Trump loves thousand island dressing
- Pence likes vinaigrette
-Trump has 2 cups of sauce with his chicken, everyone else one
- Trump disposed of Obama’s modern art
- Trump replaced the burgundy curtains with gold ones
- Trump keeps moving one of the flags in the oval office around because he can’t decide where to put it
- They built that armoire special for Lincoln so he could see his entire self in the mirror. He had some trouble after his son died. “Melancholy they say.”
- It’s just a guestroom, chill
- Trump doesn’t know what most of the rooms are called
- Trump is trying to remember white house trivia but it is really hard

The past, the present... The future. -Part 3

Summary: In SHIELD you are known for your charisma and your irrational optimism. Specially taking in count the irreversible curse HYDRA condemned you with. Because of that, Director Fury has determinate that you are the best person to take care of Bucky’s mental state.

Chapter 3: The Soldier.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Y/N: Your name

Warnings: Mentions of insomnia, human experiments and death.

Word count: 2,082

A/N: Finally the last introductory chapter! After this one, we are going to get right into action.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2.

Originally posted by iwantcupcakes

Y/N’s POV:

Wow. Just wow. This room is amazing: plasma TV, microwave and mini fridge, slide-in closet, king sized bed, as much bookshelves as i could wish for and a computer that is nearly as big as the TV are just some of the many things it includes.

I feel tired just by looking at the amount of things I have to unpack. It’s pretty obvious that Nick doesn’t expect me to finish this mission any time soon.

Even though the inside of the compound is nice and warm, the cold from the first month of the year has settled deep into my bones, so I decide to take a hot shower before anything else. I open the door of the bathroom and… lets just say it doesn’t fall behind in comparison to the room.

Apart from the incredible design and facilities (Is that a hot tube?), the bathroom is stocked with most of my favorite products, which means someone (AKA Fury) wanted me to feel at home. I set the water at highest temperature (I’m really dying to try the hot tube, but I need to get on with unpacking, so it will have to wait) and I step in.

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Gif is mine

Imagine Pride catching you staring at his ass? ;) 

Requested by imthehoneyyourethebee~

Pride stood in front of the mounted plasma TV, simply staring at an old mugshot of their newest suspect. There was definitely reason to believe this guy was involved. Percy and LaSalle had gone to question him now, but he could always lie. Pride wanted to learn everything about him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I think we should dig a little deeper into his criminal history.” Pride stated, turning his head to look at you at your desk. “See who was involved-”

Pride trailed off when he noticed your eyes instantly flash up to his. It was obvious you weren’t looking at the TV or Pride. Your eyes were elsewhere, and judging from the flustered expression on your face, Pride could guess where you were looking. It definitely wasn’t the first time he’s caught you in this manner.

Your blush deepened as Pride approached your desk, a smile growing on his face. “Don’tcha think it’s a little inappropriate to stare, darlin’?” He purred out, knowing full-well he was just embarrassing you even further. “‘Specially at work…?”

“Sorry, Dwayne.” You mumbled out, standing up and awkwardly shuffling a few papers to find the suspect’s file. “I’ll look into his criminal history some more.”

Pride’s smile grew into a grin. Maybe this would teach you not to stare at his ass while on the job.

MPGIS Episode 19.1 Weekend At Katya's (TRIXYA)~ Mistress

A/N: To the thirsty Trixya shippers who just came to the fic, welcome. You don’t have to have read the entire fic to understand this. The summary gives you everything you need to know.

To the loyal readers who also watched the show, this was originally gonna be a bonus episode, but then I realized I’d planned for ‘Date Night’ to involve Katya, her boyfriend, and Trixie anyway, as opposed to Willam and three background characters I don’t give a fuck about in the fic. I’ve been beta-ing and that takes a lot of time, so I’m more behind on my fic writing than I’d like.

This fic was too long for my taste to be a single chapter so I’m pulling a Harry Potter and splitting this one into parts. Whatever, you want me to just get to it, so here we go.

Summary: Katya and Trixie are members of rival cheer squads, but have forged a secret connection behind the backs of their teams. When Trixie has a stressful afternoon and comes home to an empty house,  there’s one girl she turns to for companionship and (Trixie hopes!) a little more.

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It’s dark and rather quaint. A soothing haze rolls into your mind as your hand wraps around your drink. It’s seven on a weekday, no sports games are on tonight so the bar is relatively quiet. You’re sitting across from the very handsome Bruce Wayne, his glass of scotch is still untouched as you’re on your second cocktail.

 For the past few minutes you’ve sat in mutual silence, broken only by casual mentions of the day’s events. His company is really more then enough for you. That is until footage of batman flashes across the large plasma screen television in the front of the bar. 

 "Looks like the batman is on the news again.“ Your voice pours out in varying notes of indifference.

 "It seems to be the usual now,” Bruce can’t help but smirk. “I guess he’s hot news.” You just shrug, lips arching into a wide smile. Your eyes flicker to him for a second, he’s watching you intently, taking in the curve of your lips and the look in your eyes.  Your eyes fall back to the glass filled with Amber-brown liquid, hesitating only for a moment. 

 Yeah why not, you think as you take another sip of your drink, it’ll be something to laugh about in the least. 

 "Did you know some people say he’s a vampire?“ Bruce’s eyebrows raise at that. A lopsided grin arching onto his lips. 

 "Really?” You nod enthusiastically, your eyes widening slightly as you take another sip. 

 "That’s why he only works at night y'know.“ The words come out oozing with sarcasm, and Bruce can’t help but chuckle.

 "Is that the only rumor?” You shake your head, his mouth is still arched up in a pleasant smile, and you can’t help but indulge him. 

 "God no, there’s actually a website full of theories oh him,“ He has to ask you for the web address later. "one of my favorites was that he’s actually half man and half bat.”

 "Oh really?“ You arch an eyebrow and shrug, Bruce is almost about to double over laughing. It’s a bit of a relief to know you don’t take any of these seriously.

 "Yeah, it was a freak lab accident or something. He had bat DNA spliced right into him.” You grin when Bruce finally laughs. 

 "That sounds like something from a bad comic book.“ You can’t help but laugh, nodding as you sip some more of your drink. You whisper numerous rumors about batman into his ear, the ice in his scotch melts completely by the time you get to your favorite rumor. Your leaning closer to him with your elbow, your lips only a few inches from his ear. 

The other patrons at the bar think it’s something scandalous, that you’re murmuring words of seduction. But then you burst out laughing and the illusion is ruined entirely.

 "I think my favorite one is that batman is an embodiment of every innocent spirit that’s ever been wronged in Gotham” You’re not laughing anymore and neither is he. There’s a soft smile on your face as your eyes are cast towards the television. “I think that’s the one that’s probably the closest to the truth.” You admit, the segment on batman has long been over. Catching Bruce’s gaze you talk quickly to explain yourself. “Not the spirit thing necessarily, but that’s what he does in essence. He protects the innocence, probably because he’s been wronged by an unjust system.”

 You’ve had quite a few drinks tonight, so you don’t feel Bruce’s hand sliding over your own at first, not until his fingers thread through your own. 

 "I believe that too.“ He says, you don’t know if it’s the haze from the alcohol, but it almost looks like there are tears in his eyes. His grip is snug as his warmth spreads all along your fingers.

 "Whatever he is, I’m glad he’s here.” It’s your attempt to lighten the mood, a brisk laugh escaping your mouth. He only lifts your hand, pressing a soft kiss against your palm. His effect is almost instantaneous, your face erupting into a flaming red. He can’t help but grin, it’s a sweet reaction, endearing even when it comes from you. His other hand digs into his pocket leaving a crisp hundred dollar bill on the table.

 "Come with me?“ The smile that curls onto your face makes him smile.



Summary: AU where Dan is blatantly homophobic, and is very vocal about it. That is, until his best friend and roommate Phil Lester can’t take it anymore and confesses to Dan.


“Ugh, I really don’t like these people.” Dan complains to Phil, leaning back in his work chair. 

His best friend looks up from his laptop, readjusting his black rimmed glasses. “Hm? Who is it?” Phil asks curiously, tilting his head from his position on the sofa. 

“These Youtubers.” Dan points at the at the video of Troye Sivan and Tyler Oakley displayed on the screen.

“How can they do that? Gay people are so disgusting.” 

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Masterpiece | Jimin, You

0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 

Song: 나 요즘 | Saero (feat. 앤트)

You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece

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*mattpat lays down a beat for me*

used to be democrat /
but now I’m a dumbocrap /
flat screen plasma tv so hi-res /
I caught a case of Zika virus /
my name’s fat baby and I’m here to kill /
all the feds know me cos I’m a paid shill