i mean i'm sure it will be good anyway

I bet people who haven’t watched Hannibal enjoy a show like The Following a whole lot more. I just started episode seven and so far this show has made me feel exactly nothing. I mean for a show that has Poe as its central theme, it sure is lacking in poetry…

Does it get better? Or has Hannibal just truly broken me?


garinna replied to your photo “bali did you make another DnD character” “….no” (yes)”

You should tell us more about this lovely person.

a yuan-ti cleric of the raven queen (because i’m gay™), i’m still kind of torn on life, death, or grave domain

all three would fit said goddess, it’s just that life means Good Heals and the other two are Spooky Fun


they’re used to being mistrusted and mistreated due to being yuan-ti, and probably only the truly desperate turn to them for healing, but they’re like…a decent person? definitely very straightforward and clinical in all approaches, but they’re genuine and don’t actively wish harm on anybody. i’m still trying to figure out a lot about them, idk

(the other two as pictured are their other official party members so far; a dragonborn paladin and a kobold ranger. i’m hearing the fourth will be a firbolg fighter. preemptively calling this Monster Factory tbh)

this is officially the second time in several months that a man has casually told that i’d make an excellent wife

and man was this time a doozy

Supercorp Calculations?

I’m no good at math but there has to be someone out there that can make a pie chart with the following likelihoods:

1. Chance of the writers being Lazy™ and making Lena evil
2. Chance of Lena and Kara just being friends
3. Chance of Supercorp being cannon
4. Chance of them saying Lena is straight and putting her with Winn
5. Chance of her being gay but still not ending up with Kara

Can someone please do that? Because I sure as hell can’t. And I need a mathematical likelihood to bring me back to reality. Or else I’m going to be forever stuck in Supercorp Land. I mean I’ll probably stay here anyways. But a pie chart sounds nice.

i’ve got tickets to see guardians of the galaxy 2 today, and it’s my birthday, and it’s actually a beautiful spring day outside, none of that slush and snow nonsense

Dear Jane the Virgin Writers

I would like to sincerely apologize to you guys on behalf of Rafael Solano. I cannot imagine what terrible thing he has done to you all that has caused you to play him so dirty in every damn episode. I’m constantly theorizing what he possibly could have done to you all to make you take away everything that’s near and dear to him: his father, his mother, his agency to pick how many children he has, the love of his life. Speaking of the love of his life, on top of losing her, you’ve managed to minimize every aspect that made their relationship special– all to give it to a stale cracker that you desperately and pathetically try to sell to your audience as a fantastic leading man. Rafael being the only one to encourage Jane’s writing aspirations, as said by Jane herself? Nah, that never happened. Michael was supportive, too! Rafael wasn’t the only one to call Jane a writer, right? Jane and Rafael discussing their common dream of living the classic stable home life in the suburbs? Nah, Michael deserves that more! And now, Mateo using his first words to call Michael “dada”. I mean I get it,  Rafael is CLEARLY so missing from his son’s life and never begging for time with his son, never going to mommy & me classes, or begging that they don’t take him a hour away from him… So I can totally see the confusion. Good job, Mateo, you’re showing your terrible father who’s boss.

Anyway, again, I apologize for whatever Rafael has done to you all. You’ve really shown that bastard! Good job! I do hope this letter will be received, but I’m not sure if the postal service can get that far up Michael Cordero’s asshole.

Bodyswap AU - Part 2 ( part 1 here )

She stared at her own body through the red lenses of the mask, her shocked brain quickly putting the pieces together.

“Vader?” she asked, the vocoder failing to convey the full extent of her incredulity. Oh yes, they had a problem indeed.

Vader simply nodded, his face a mix of gravity and lingering dazedness.

She heaved herself to her feet – a process made quite strenuous by the weight of the armor  – using both hands and legs to push herself off the ground, which, unfortunately, failed to make the exercise easier. She clenched her jaws in pain as she felt a stretch in her left shoulder, as if her flesh were about to tear itself open. She leaned against the nearest shelf, allowing herself to recover a bit before she spoke again, covering the sound of her heavy, relentless breathing and of that faint something that seemed to be playing in the back of her mind.

“I think I pulled a muscle,” she stated lamely. “What happened?”

“I do not know, Aphra, though I suspect it has to do with the holocron,” he said, picking through the crystal shards that lay scattered around him.

I told you so, an old man’s voice rang out, nearly causing her heart to spring out of her chest. She felt a cold shiver crawling up her backbone, and swallowed uneasily.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her booming voice hiding the sudden panic that had her rooted on the spot. “Who said that?”

Vader arched an eyebrow, not quite certain what she was referring to.

“Who said what?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything, but if he was ‘her’ and she was ‘him’, in a manner of speaking, then there was only one plausible explanation: Force-ghosts.

“I told you so,” she answered. Oh. Right. Then he knew exactly who it was.

“Aphra, will you please tell that patronizing, backstabbing old goat to kindly dissipate and go haunt someone else?”

Aphra tilted her head in a questioning way – not an obvious motion by any means, but then he knew the collar to restrict such movements. His reaction may have been a little… personal. That was bound to raise questions. And if there was someone who would undoubtedly ask them, it was the nosy, boisterous woman whose body he was trapped in.

And Aphra was, indeed, bearing a perplexed look, her eyebrows knit together as she wondered what the kriff he was talking about, when the mysterious voice interrupted her train of thought with out a fatherly, yet utterly joyless chuckle, one that quickly died away to let her ponder what she had just heard. She took a few seconds to contemplate the situation and came to the conclusion that things might, perhaps, be more alarming than she had initially thought. She was several meters underground, in a vault that could crumble any minute, stormbound on this backwater Rebel rock – without a single bar or tech junkyard to hang at, mind you – trapped in someone else’s body ­– which was definitely not the most comfortable experience she had been through so far – and now, she could hear ghosts. Ghosts. Somebody pinch her. At least the spirit seemed to have taken Vader’s not-so-subtle hint.

“I think he’s gone…” she hazarded.

“No he’s not. He’s gloating in the shadows as we speak.”

“Who is he?”

“Someone you had better not trust”, he answered cryptically, his voice laced with unconcealed contempt. Vader knew that ghost well, too well for his own taste. Of that she was certain. Before she got a chance to ask what had happened between the two, a sharp beep from Beetee caused her head to swivel, with a suddenness she immediately regretted, wincing at the sudden tension of her neck muscles.

“Masters, Beetee is picking up several lifeform readings from the gallery beneath us.”


“And they seem to be heading for this level. Primary analysis suggests kinrath.”

“You mean those big, slimy, venomous spiders?”

“Indeed, Mistress, and they are getting close. I might add that their venom has fascinating properties, though I rather doubt you wish to experiment them for yourself.”

“Uh… not really, no.” She turned to look at Vader, who was busy collecting the last pieces of the holocron. “Hey boss, this place is really cool and all but how about we get going? Like… now.”

The words had barely left her mouth that a spindly, mucous appendage shot out from behind a shelf, curling around its corner. A sharp, sibilant hiss answered another one, then two, then three, and part of her could sense a ravenous hunger, simmering, growing, focusing onto them as the clamor built up.

“Oh… I have a bad feeling about this.”

Suddenly the hissing turned to a din of shrieks, and the whole of the mob sprung out of the shadows, rushing towards their prey in a furious frenzy.


Now that sounded like a plan. Aphra took to her heels but the creatures were fast, and the weight of the armor was slowing her down. She heard and felt the swarm narrowing in on her, a compact mass of kinrath now filling the corridor mere meters behind her, some crawling up the walls to outrun the stampede.

Uh oh. This is bad.

She felt a squishy mass drop down from the ceiling and right onto her head, fully occulting her vision as it latched onto her helmet and began trying to tear it off.

“A little help here?”

Vader stopped in his tracks upon hearing her call. Aphra’s body was light and surprisingly nimble, and he hadn’t realized how much of a distance he had covered until he turned to look back. Not that he could see much – the hallways were, indeed, quite dark for the bare eye – but he could see enough to know that she was far.

“Use your lightsaber!” he shouted.

“No way, I’m gonna cut my head off!” she exclaimed as more kinraths began climbing onto her.

Yes, that would be most embarrassing. But not as likely as being turned into canned kinrath food if things went on that way.

“Would you rather be eaten alive? Just do it!” he ordered, still fumbling for his blaster. Hopefully he still knew how to use one. “The lightsaber, not the head.” Obviously. “Red button.”

Everything is red!” she exploded, finally managing to throw the animal off her head.

Fair enough.

“The one on the top!” he said, aiming his blaster at the mob.

“Okay. Okay. I got this.” She ignited the weapon and began thrashing around like a … like what exactly? No matter. It seemed to be working.

“Guys you know you’re allowed to help!” she exclaimed amidst the howling of the beasts, not bothering to dodge the spider legs she sent flying around.

“Oh, but this was so entertaining…” Triple-Zero grumbled as he reluctantly turned to his companion. “Alright Beetee, you heard Mistress Aphra.”

Both droids fired in concert, until Beetee grew tired of it and aimed his flamethrower in the direction of the melee. Piercing, dissonant shrieks of agony rang out, reverberating on the walls, but they were soon silenced by Aphra’s panicked blows.

“You nearly set me on fire!” she berated the droid.

Vader bristled at the thought. Once was more than enough.

“Shall we go now?”

Aphra nodded and handed him the saber. “I’m not saying you’re a bad shot but… I think we should trade.”


They hastened the pace and quickly reached the surface, setting foot on its dry, reddish sand, so thin that every step lifted a cloud of dust. The wind had subsided to a mild, gentle breeze, and the dim light indicated it was nearly nightfall. The surroundings were calm, without a sign of life… save for the jangling tone of Aphra’s comlink – well, his comlink, which never, ever missed an occasion to disturb him at the most inconvenient of times.

“Pick it up,’ he sighed jadedly.

“Ah, Lord Vader. Glad you finally deigned to answer my calls. What is going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Aphra wasn’t quite sure what to respond to this.  

“I… um… nothing. I’m fine, I’m all fine now. How are you?”

Tagge’s only answer was an annoyed flick of his hand.

“You still haven’t confirmed your presence at tomorrow’s meeting. Shall I see you there?”

“Uh… I… yes?”

“Good. And I still await you report on the Anthan 13 incident. Make sure you bring the file along. Tagge out.”

The hologram flickered and quickly disappeared, and Aphra couldn’t help but voice the first thought that crossed her mind:

“Wait, I’ve got homework now?”

crookedboredom  asked:

Hey! I'm sotry to bother you. I'm sure you're getting this a lot by now, but I seriously am in love with your mafia AU! I love your art especially! I mean I've seen a ton of mafia AU's by now, but yours is just so perfect!! Haha ^^ anyways, I was wondering what you draw with/on? Thank you so much!

No bother at all!!! O3O
and like, I’m always super happy to hear you like the Mafia AU X3
It always makes me feel super flattered when ppl say it’s a pretty good one too! ;A;
Cuz, I know I’m def not the first to make a Mafia AU, but, it means a lot when I hear it’s an original enough one to catch a person’s eye :’D
And I use Clip Studio Paint to draw the AU ^w^
I have a pretty awesome cintiq that I use too o3o

anonymous asked:

I'm new to cricky how sure are you they're a couple? I, like, totally think they're together but sometimes doubt creeps in...

Welcome to the fandom :) And sorry for replying so late.

You know, I think we all have days in each fandom when we would say we’re a 100% sure and others when we see a shadow of a doubt. But honestly, with Cricky I only feel a kind of “naaaah” feeling because I’m like oh shit this is too good to actually be true you know?

Anyway, Cricky do have some undeniable moments:

1. I mean, the entirety of the Euros is proof in itself

exhibit a: GOD, THE THUMB!!!!! while Cris carried Ricky around for like five minutes

(and Ricky also attempted to kiss/bite/suck Cristiano’s earlobe)

exhibit b: how they just stood there like the world didn’t exist

exhibit c: Ricky’s hand resting comfortably on Cris’ waist like it’s been his favourite spot for six thousand years

exhibit d: this. was. after. the. game. they were just standing around cuddling as if it’s their 50th wedding anniversary and they’re discussing who showed up

exhibit e: clearly the winner because what even is Cristiano’s hand sliding down Ricky’s back and onto his waist and WHAT!!!! IS!!! RICKY’S!!!! FACE when it happens

2. You all thought I’m done? NOPE, the Euros are just the beginning. Because another undeniable proof is that RICKY LIKED ALL THOSE INSTAGRAM POSTS ON @cricky-renaldo‘s account. You can see them all or most of them (I’m getting lost there are so many) here. Just really think about this for a second. He literally liked pictures of him and Cristiano with captions like  “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage”. I’m crying. From cricky-renaldo’s account:

3. Unpopular opinion but if the rumour about Cristiano expecting twins via surrogate is true (which I believe it is), then it honestly couldn’t be more obvious. I mean, having kids by surrogate TWICE also while “dating” a girl who would probably want to have kids with you some day in the future and who coincidentally used to work as a nanny FOR TWINS? Exactly.

4. Also, this.

So these are the main reasons why I don’t doubt in Cricky being a thing but there are honestly so many more. Hope this helped!

slimeportal  asked:

Epiales and Spica? oh, you must mean Darkrai and Cresselia! What have those two been up to lately anyways? I hear the former ran an inn somewhere at one point but not much else

“I’m surprised you even know their names, considering how long it’s been since they’ve bothered interacting with mortals. Then again, it’s been a while since I bothered with any other region, so maybe things have changed…”

“Not that I care for the two of them anyway, I’d rather them stay out of Alola. Whether they’re the goddess’ creations or not, I don’t want that murderer or his apologist lover anywhere near my island.”

god given.

nsfw as heck ;-) I wanna say I found the prompt from @dylricimagines but I don’t rlly remember bc I suck! Also I love u @ericharribitch thank u for proofreading this bby!! anyways enjoy u sinners <3

When Eric gets back from boot camp, Dylan isn’t really sure what he expected. He knew Eric might look different, be tanner from spending all the time outside, or his hair might’ve gotten cut shorter in the time he was gone. What he didn’t expect was Eric, standing out from everyone else in the airport, new and improved.

Eric’s skin HAD gotten tanner, and his skin was a light brown now. His arms had gotten more muscular, and his same Rammstein shirt had pulled tighter over his muscled torso. His hair wasn’t shorter, it was longer, long enough to be gelled back. When Eric came barreling into Dylan’s arms though, he could see his personality hadn’t changed a bit.

“Missed you,” Eric muttered into Dylan’s chest. Dylan just pulled his boy closer, breathing in deeply, smelling Eric’s cologne for the first time in 2 months.
“Missed you too, baby.” He choked out, stroking the skin behind Eric’s ear. They stood there for a while, the airport hustling and bustling around them.

“We gotta get going, honey,” Dylan whispered into Eric’s ear. “My parents are making dinner. They missed you.” Eric nodded into Dylan’s chest, pulling away, and picking up his bags which had dropped when he saw Dylan. They walked out, Dylan’s long arms slung around his shoulders and Eric leaning slightly into Dylan’s side.

After an awkward dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Klebold, Eric and Dylan stumbled into Dylan’s room, giggling, and landed on his bed. Dylan placed a soft kiss to Eric’s forehead, lumbering off to put a CD into his player. Kurt Cobain’s grainy voice filled the room, and Eric shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

“Do you like it?” Eric asked, referring to his lengthened hair. Dylan nodded, smiling.
“It looks good on you,” he said, “you look very handsome.” Eric rolled his eyes, pulling Dylan down to his sitting figure, kissing him slowly. He wanted this to last, he wanted Dylan to last, he wanted the taste of menthol cigarettes and Dr. Pepper on Dylan’s lips to fucking last. Eric had missed it so much while he was gone, the ache in his chest chanting a mantra of Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.

Dylan climbed into Eric’s lap, his bony thighs resting on either side of Eric, and everything felt like a dream. Eric soft hands slipping off his shirt, his tan skin standing out from Dylan’s pale, running over the bones of his ribs that stuck out. The way Eric kissed down his chest, craning his neck up every so often to place a gentle kiss on his mouth.

Dylan laid down on his bed, Eric leaning on top of him, peeling his shirt off, and running a hand through his hair again. Dylan replaced Eric’s hand with both of his, tugging on it slightly, and yanking him down to connect their mouths again. It was sweet, but it was rough and mouthy. It was everything Eric had needed after being away from V so fucking long.

Dylan mouthed at Eric’s collarbones, sucking lightly and leaving a violet mark and Eric grunted softly, grinding down on Dylan. The drag of denim and the thick fabric of his own black army pants was delicious, and he ground down harder.

“I love you,” Dylan breathed out shortly, as quick as a gunshot. Eric’s eyes fluttered shut as the praise, and Dylan’s graceful fingers fumbled with the belt on his narrow waist. Eric reciprocated the gesture, unbuttoning and unzipping the loose blue jeans hung low on Dylan’s hips. The boys both eventually got their pants off, and were left in nothing but tight boxer briefs.

Dylan’s hands moved their way to Eric’s shoulder blades, scratching slightly as his legs hooked around Eric’s back. Eric stuck his fingers into Dylan’s mouth, and Dylan sucked unconsciously, his tongue swirling around them in ecstasy. When Eric pulled them out, Dylan whined as Eric pushed off his boxers, and slowly pushed one into him.

“I missed your hands,” Dylan mumbled, his back arching and eyelashes casting shadows on his prominent cheekbones.
“I missed you so much, baby.” Eric groaned, pushing another finger in beside his first, his other hand digging into Dylan’s waistline.

“I missed you too, so fuckin’ much, V. But if you don’t shut the hell up, there’s gonna be hell to pay, sweetheart.” Eric grumbled into Dylan’s mouth. Dylan nodded, his hips bucking down when Eric pushed another finger in, biting his lip so he didn’t bother Eric. Eric noticed and smiling, whispering a “good boy” as he pulled a condom out of the pocket of his pants which laid on the floor, putting it on and giving himself a few quick jerks, providing some relief.

He aligned himself with Dylan’s entrance, and Dylan cried out loudly when Eric thrusted roughly in, snapping his hips against the inside of Dylan’s thighs. Eric’s hand wrapped harshly around the sides of Dylan’s throat, enough to shut him up and put a haze over everything that happened, but not enough to hurt him too much.

“Fuck,” Eric spat out, like something bitter. “I missed this, so much, such a good boy for me, baby.” Dylan keened into the praise, his hips pushing down to match Eric’s thrusts. Eric was so close, he hadn’t gotten anything in months, fucking months, not even a hand around himself in the shared showers. He kissed Dylan angrily, moaning loudly into it when he came.

He still had a hand around Dylan’s throat when he pulled out, throwing the condom in the trash can beside Dylan’s bed, and he kept it there when he placed his fingers inside Dylan again, mouthing at his hips messily. Dylan spasmed, his eyes rolling back into his head and his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him, like he was going to fall off if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

When Dylan came, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth went slack, and he made a choking sound like nothing Eric had ever heard. Eric grabbed his shirt off the floor, wiping off Dylan’s chest and collapsing beside him, pulling Dylan’s head into his neck. They were exhausted, Eric’s tan skin slick, and his hair was a mess, shiny with sweat. Dylan ran a hand through his hair, mumbled sleepily into his boy’s shoulder.

“You’re my world,” Dylan said, pulling his comforter over them both.

“Really?” Eric asked. “Because you’re my universe.”

I can’t wait to see Yuri!!! on Ice! 

I already love Yuri Plisetsky. I can imagine this angry kid having the flexibility to do a biellmann spin — it would be like watching magic on ice.

I drew the costume from the official art, but since the whole picture is painted in blue, I had to imagine the colors. In any case, I think Yuri looks really good in blue.


“His presence on the team increases every game. This is what it means to pitch like an ace.

anonymous asked:

I think Auston Matthews is not attractive at all! Why are people obsessed with him.... including you?

I’m hungry and tired so I’m gonna paraphrase @mcdavos and @fuckin-hockey

  • Auston Matthews is an absolutely incredible hockey player and at the age of 19 is already making a huge impact on his team and the league
  • He’s the highest drafted Latino player in NHL history. As a WOC, I pretty much go nuts every time I see any POC in the NHL
    • Catch me crying over Cliff Pu
  • Has a unique hockey development background
  • Literally a kid from Arizona, which is a non-traditional hockey market, from a family that didn’t know anything about hockey, and became the first overall pick of 2016
  • Made history. Multiple times
  • Is so humble and loves his family so much and is a great teammate

guileandgall  asked:

Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, and send it to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable). SPREAD POSITIVITY! ♡ (I apologize if you already did one of these! ^.^)

  1. i make a mean bolognese
  2. i make a mean steak
  3. i generally drink eight glasses of water a day
  4. i can wing my eyeliner good
  5. my eyebrows are a decent size i guess? i dunno
A guide to being a vocal citizen

For people wondering how to take action post-election of a racist demagogue (pulled from Twitter and cleaned up):

Make a spreadsheet or a file for your representatives with names, addresses to their offices, phone numbers, and contact forms. Put everyone there. Make a note in your calendar app to check in on issues once a month.

Pay attention to news. If you get angry, upset, or worried, seek support from friends but ALSO shoot these reps an email, too. Be courteous but firm and blunt. It’s a numbers game. Often we remain invisible because we don’t go to events and rallies and can’t be physically present. But we can attach our names to emails, we can write letters, we can be vocal. We don’t have to be invisible.

You can do this with your national reps, state reps, and local reps. If someone reps you anywhere, note them. Open a line and revisit it. It’s hard work and slow. One email at a time. One letter at a time. One call at a time. Emails are easy these days, so splurge every few months on a stamp and send a letter if you can. Put your humanity in front of these people. Flout it. Some won’t care, but others will. Change ONE mind and results can cascade.

Rural areas are bubbles full of bigotry and now it’s newly revealed. But we white people who live here have the clout and power! We can speak up when our reps say terrible things, and do terrible things, and vote terrible ways. We can go “I am disappointed in you.” It’s work, but as we’ve seen the last six months, it’s time for us to do that work. If someone goes “who are your reps” you gotta know. If you don’t know and you’re mad about this election, it’s time to create that file and keep it with you and use it.

The time for social media rants only is over. Or, do those, but maybe pull those threads out into a paragraph and send them to your reps. And don’t ONLY email or contact when things go badly. Also reach out when things go right. Even if they voted AGAINST something. Treat them like you would want to be treated if you were wrong or mistaken. But we’ve gotta reach out and let them know we’re here.

Anyway, I know this is hard work. If you need help collecting your reps, give me a ping via DM and I’ll help you get started.

Xiubaek at the gym
  • Baekhyun: -not working out, just eating spoonfuls of nutella straight out of the jar- Man, I love being gym buddies with you, Minseok. It's really cool being athletic ones in the group isn't it?
  • Xiumin: -actually working out, trying to focus- mmhmm
  • Baekhyun: Like, I think we've really bonded over this. I feel so close to you, you know?
  • Xiumin: sure
  • Baekhyun: Oh, I love this song! AOA is so great! Their videos always put me in a good mood. Like, I feel sooo happy after watching them.
  • Xiumin: wow
  • Baekhyun: I mean, you can probably guess why that is, right?
  • Xiumin: no tell me why im on the edge of my seat clearly
  • Baekhyun: Haha, you're hilarious. It's because of hot girls doing sexy dances in skimpy clothes, obviously! You know what I'm talking about, don't be coy! I see you sweating.
  • Xiumin: im sweating because im lifting weights. didnt you say youd spot me
  • Baekhyun: Yeah. So anyway, today I saw a cool bug.
  • Xiumin: fascinating
  • Baekhyun: It was green.
  • Xiumin: no way
  • Baekhyun: Right??? Like, usually you'd expect to see green bugs in, like, summer. When everything's green. But it's almost winter so it was really weird.
  • Xiumin: thats some deep shit baekhyun
  • Baekhyun: I know, right? Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who thinks of these things. Like, no one really gets me, you know? How I see the world differently. But you understand me. You and me are a lot alike, Minseok.
  • Xiumin: hm
  • Baekhyun: Hey, can I change the music to my new CD?
  • Xiumin: please dont
  • Baekhyun: Okay! I'm unplugging your phone don't freak out
  • Xiumin: baekhyun i need my workout mix
  • Baekhyun: -starts playing Taeyeon's album-
  • Xiumin: baekhyun no
  • Baekhyun: I just... love her... so much -starts crying-
  • Xiumin: -sighs-
  • Baekhyun: We were so perfect together, you know? We were like a perfect pair.
  • Xiumin: omg
  • Baekhyun: Oh! Your phone just vibrated
  • Xiumin: baekhyun why are you picking up my phone put that down
  • Baekhyun: It's a message from Luhan! Want me to read it to you?
  • Xiumin: no put my phone down
  • Baekhyun: Okay! It says, "Hey, baby"... winky face... "I know you're ignoring my texts and we need to have that talk"... (talk is in quotes)... "I love you and I miss you and your sexy body"... winky face... "Don't give up on me yet baby"... winky face winky face winky -
  • Xiumin: Okay, I get it.
  • Baekhyun: So what was your sex life like with Luhan? As for me and Taeyeon, we -