yes i had to plan


Tomorrow marks the ending of my wildwood vaycay with my friends 💕 here’s a compilation of all the mirror selfies i took for snap

anonymous asked:

So are you saying that those permits were included in the sale of the apartment regardless? I thought that she requested them but maybe I just assumed that

Yes bc apparently Peter Jackson had planned on it but then never did. 

Curbed article, 2016, excerpt below:  They say “presumably” this is what she is doing, but also notate that the permits only say “structural” and “partial interior demolition.”  As i mentioned before that could be any number of things one might do in a remodel with one or both properties, but does not necessarily mean combining the PH with the other apartment into one gigantic apartment.

Second paragraph indicates that the listing sale from Peter Jackson indicated that all the appropriate permits and approval were in place, and even new floorplans drawn up, at time of the sale.

Princess of pop Taylor Swift is moving forward with a renovation at her Tribeca penthouse that the Post says will set the megastar back $535,000. Department of Buildings filings for the renovation from earlier this year don’t go into the nitty-gritty about Swift’s planned renovation, but state that the work being done on her apartment is structural and will include partial interior demolition. Presumably, T. Swift is finally combining the sixth and penthouse floors she purchased from Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson into a Tribeca megamansion in the sky.

Jackson listed the uncombined penthouse floors in 2013, with the listing making note that “[a]ll Dept. of Buildings permits, Landmark Preservation approval, Community Board approval and architectural drawings are already in place, eliminating months or even years of planning and significant expense.” Still, Swift purchased the two floors in 2014 for $20 million and appears to be just getting around to the renovation. 

The Text

Prompt: Hi, could I request a Dick Grayson fic where the reader is his best friend and has predictive text on, so she accidentally sends him “hey babe” when he’s out with the boys or something?

Requested by: Anon

    “What do you think this means?”

    “Maybe she likes you as more than a friend?”

    “That could happen. I mean you two have been close for years. Known each other since you were kids. And you’ve both been on the team since you were thirteen.”

    Dick just stares at his phone. All of the above was true, but he knew you. You weren’t someone who would just randomly start calling him “babe.” You were calculating and thoughtful. You liked to have a plan. Which meant this couldn’t be a mistake, could it?

    “What should I text back?”

    Wally grins, “You need a cute nickname for her.”

    “But nothing cutesy.” Connor adds, “She’s not cutesy.”

    Dick grins, “Well that rules out pumpkin, and cutie.”

    Wally smirks, “And kitten.”

    Dick shivers at the thought of that particular girl. Quickly changing the topic he asks, “Before we finish picking out a pet name, shouldn’t we discuss the pros and cons of this decision?”

    He receives several blank looks, and he sighs, “What if it doesn’t work out? She’s one of my best friends. I don’t want to ruin our friendship if this goes south.”

All of the smiles are gone now, and Wally asks, “Who wants to tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“That your mentor emotionally stunted you, and you can’t even admit that you’ve been in love with Y/N since you were twelve.” The sentence flows from Garfield’s mouth like a river.

And Dick just stares at his friends, “I am not in love with her.” The stares intensify and he admits, “I like her, yes. I spend a good amount of time with her, and her hair smells nice, and my heart kind of speeds up when she smiles, but I’m not in love with her.” Kaldur raises an eyebrow and question and Dick admits, “Okay so, I’m in love with her … What about sweetheart?”

Wally nods, “Good amount of sweetness without being too mushy, I say go with it.”

Dick doesn’t even hesitate, he types out the words and hits send.

You’re out to eat with the girls when the text comes in. You look up at your friends, and ask, “Okay, who sent Dick a text saying ‘Hey babe?’” When no one answers you whine just a tad, “You guys, I had a plan!”

Zatanna smiles, “Yes but your plan would have taken three years to implement, and now we can skip that torture, and talk about what you’re going to wear on your first date.”

“He only texted back ‘hey sweetheart,’ no date plans.”

    Artemis shrugs, “The guys will have that locked in within an hour.”

    You stare at your friends, they’re damn scary when they’re determined. 


Bruce Wayne/Batman successfully recruiting Barry Allen/The Flash into the Justice League

Okay, so first attempt complete!

Here’s some Draco Malfoy-inspired cupcakes (credit goes to @bixgirl1 for the bomb af flavor profile idea): champagne-chiffon cupcakes filled with strawberry pastry cream topped with champagne-rose meringue!

Forgive the terrible quality of the photos, please… I’m still looking for my camera, and when I find it, I will post something better. :’(

I’m taking them to some frands, so I will report back on if they taste like Draco (… or at least if they taste good, because I’m pretty sure there’s only one person that actually knows what Draco *tastes* like, if you know what I mean).

Just a quick update to let you know I haven’t forgotten about the prompts, as it got silent on my blog again.

…my mind just went and kind of decided to drop the ‘doodle’ bit while working on one of them 💦


The new HigglyTown Heroes looks great.

★ Below the cut are #25 gifs of the actress Dana Gourrier as Maya in s01e06 of Startup (22) and Sharon Davison in Midnight Special (03). Dana is of “mixed  Afro-American and Creole” descent, please cast her accordingly. All gifs were made by me and are only intended for roleplaying purposes. Do not repost, claim as your own, edit in any way, or include in gif hunts. Please like this post if using or saving any gifs and reblog only if you’re an rp related blog.

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Nixon could hardly believe they were doing this. He was thankful though. He wanted nothing more than to make Bianca his wife. He knew that things would likely be the same but in certain ways he knew they would be different. For him, marriage was sacred. He planned to spend his life making her happy, making her feel loved.

It took a lot of calls and a bit of pushing but he found them a small private gazebo, natural brown wood with ivory growing up it’s beams and flowers sprouting up here and there. It was peaceful, serene, and secluded. It offered them the privacy to confess their love and begin their life that the both wanted, even if for different reasons….   


Did I make some mistakes? Yes. Did I only make mistakes? Yes. But did it all work out? Kind of. I had a plan, and I put it into action and it went off flawlessly. Almost. Mostly. Maybe it went off flawful-ish. But not a total disaster. In fact, an unmitigated not-total-disaster of the sort I’m thrilled to be involved in.
—  Merlin

why do all you people, and I mean the fandom AND the new writers, insist on bringing out Harley’s good side like she’s some kind of saint? I love Harley precisely because she’s a sly fucker who wanted to make money writing best-sellers out of her patients’ mental illness. She was an opportunist who desperately desired a life of glamour, and going with the Joker, besides an entire world of pain and abuse, gave her exactly that: she was finally in the limelight, outside the ordinary, going down in history. That was pretty much clear since the start in her characterization??? So why is everyone and their cousin pretending she was the Good Doctor TM or that she gives a shit about people ouside her inner circle? Harley used to be funny and cunning before being squeezed into the role of another boring antihero that has nothing to do with her characterization. If DC wants so badly to prove they can write what they believe to be “”””empowered women””””, what about trying show that women can be manipulative and ambitious too? That they can be horrible and selfish? I just don’t get it.

Three days later

[Summary: Reid and reader are at a crossroads in their relationship, and have a huge fight. After some angst, fluff ensues.

AN: This is my first proper piece of fan fic. Do leave feedback. @reiding-and-writing, I hope you read this. <3 

“I don’t know why the hell I even try with you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that, Spencer. Where did that even come from?”

“Well, news flash, Y/N. That’s all I’ve been thinking of, since the last time I asked you to marry me. I’m not surprised you haven’t noticed. Just like how you fail to notice my heart breaking a little each time I bring up marriage and you shoot it down!”, Spencer wheezes a little as he finishes his rant. 

His words feel like they’re being carved into your skin. What began as a small disagreement had now blown into an argument you had no come back to. 

He has a point, you admit to yourself. Why did he have to hang around? Every time he brought up the topic of marriage, you refused. You told him you did not believe in the institution. You had seen your parents’ marriage crumble, had been the collateral damage to the battles they waged inside your broken family. You were certain marriages were destined to doom. 

“Well, do you have nothing to say?!”, Spencer’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. 

You open your mouth to respond, and realize telling him how much you loved him would not cut it. He had been through a lot last year, and with Diana’s situation worsening every day, he was constantly on edge. 

The phone rang suddenly, scaring you for a second, and distracting Spencer from his anger and resentment. He takes a deep breath and answers the phone, and you gather that there is a case somewhere. He finishes his call, and looks at you. 

“Just in time, eh, Y/N? Saved by the bell, quite literally. Well, you know what, you don’t have to respond right now. I doubt you even have a response. I will be gone for at least three days, so how about you think long and hard about this? When I come back, do let me know what you want to do with ‘us’. Whether you even really want an ‘us’, anymore.” 

He turns and walks into your bedroom, to gather his things, leaving you to your gloom. 

As he walks out of the apartment, you call out to him. “Spence. I love you.” 

He must have heard the urgency in your voice, as he turns and faces you. “I love you too, Y/N. I do. But I am tired, and I don’t want to go on like this. I’ll see you soon.”

He shuts the door gently, and the kindness in that gesture makes your heart ache. You walk into your room, feeling certain that it was now or never. The truth is, you had noticed Spencer’s pain. You had noticed the loneliness he was carrying with himself. You would go to any end, pay any price, to change it. And you knew what you had to do.

You had to put your plan into motion. You grab a change of clothes, your phone charger, car keys, and wallet, and walk out of the home you shared with Spencer.

Three days later. 

As he walks into the apartment he shared with Y/N, Spencer senses something is awry. It was too quiet, too dark. “Y/N, are you home?,” he calls out. 

Even as he asks, he knows no one is home. Spencer feels a sense of worry trickle through his body, as the events that took place three days ago flash into his mind. . 

Fear sits heavy at the bottom of his stomach as he dials Y/N’s number. Where was she? Normally she would have been home by this hour. He notices her overnight bag is gone. She wouldn’t skip a work day without good reason. 

“Hello, this is Y/N L/N, and I cannot come to the phone right now. Please leave a message, and I will call you back when I can. Thank you!” 

Y/N’s chirpy voicemail greeting sends a fresh jolt of guilt through him. 

“Y/N, I just got back from the case. Please call me as soon as you get this? I’m sorry we left things that way on Friday. Please, just call me? I love you.” 

Spencer ends the call, wondering whether he should call Y/N’s work place or Garcia. Garcia was one of her closest friends, and she would have spoken to Y/N over the weekend. Even if she hadn’t, she probably would help him track Y/N’s phone. 

Garcia picked up on the second ring, like she had known he would call. 

“Garcia! Have you spoken to Y/N?” 

“Oh hello to you too, pretty boy. Why are you asking me about Y/N?”

“Well…”, Spence stuttered a little, “.. we might have had a fight on Friday evening, just before we were called on to the case.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“And, erm.. I might have said some things I didn’t exactly mean. Well things I wanted to talk to her about anyway, but I shouldn’t have done so in an angry outburst.The point is, she isn’t home, she isn’t picking up her phone, and I haven’t spoken to her in the last three days. Her bag is missing, and it doesn’t look like anybody’s been home for the last few days..” He was beginning to ramble.

“"Ooookaay boy wonder. I hear you. Listen, I might have an idea of where she might be. But I cannot tell you. It is something you need to hear from her.”

Spencer grips the phone tight as he processes what Penelope just said. “You know where she is? Is she okay? Pen, ask her to come home. Or pick up the phone.”

“Spencer, you need to trust me, and you need to trust Y/N. She should be back home today. Talk to her yourself, alright?” 

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Accidental Matrimony

@kevin-tran-advanced-placement-me requested two prompts, but I couldn’t figure out a way to make them fit together in one fic. I split them into two separate ones, and this is the first, based on prompt 7, “Don’t panic, but I think we might have accidentally gotten married” with Spencer Reid. 

I stirred as sunlight filtered through the blinds and landed on my face. My head was pounding, and I felt strange, as if something big had happened. 

I rolled over to my left, and smiled slightly to myself.

Spencer Reid was lying next to me, his caramel curls tousled and spread out against the white hotel pillowcase. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even; in sleep, he somehow looked even more adorable than usual. 

I settled my head against the pillow and watched him for a moment, marveling at how much I loved him. 

Then, I was pulled out of my reverie by something sparkly in my peripheral vision. I glanced down at where Spencer’s hand was lying casually on the blankets that barely covered his hip. I froze as my eyes landed on the object that had caught my attention. 

It was a gold band wrapped around his left ring finger; unmistakably, a wedding band. 

I looked down at my own hand and found two rings; a stunning, sparkling engagement ring and a wedding band that matched Spencer’s. 

I struggled, racking my brains for memories from the night before, but I came up empty. 

“Spencer,” I hissed, reaching out to shake him awake. He turned his head into the pillow with a sleepy mumble, and I pushed aside the affection that rose up within me at the sight. 

“Spencer,” I repeated. “Honey, you have to wake up.” Something in my tone must have alerted him, because he pushed himself up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking at me in adorable sleepy confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Okay,” I began, “Don’t panic, but I think we may have accidentally gotten married.” 

Spencer stared at me, suddenly looking much more awake. I watched as his eyes darted to his hand and then to mine, widening as he realized what had happened. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” 

“What?” I asked, confused. Spencer swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair in distress. I moved so that I was sitting next to him, and rested a hand on his back. 

“Spence, calm down,” I murmured. “It’s going to be okay.” He looked up at me, and I was surprised to see tears in his eyes. 

“This is why I don’t drink, because obviously I ruined everything and I had it all planned out, and now it’s all ruined.” 

“Spencer, you’re not making a whole lot of sense,” I said slowly. “You had what planned out?” 

He shook his head. 

“We got married, and neither of us remember it,” he sighed. “Plus, I finally gave you the ring my mom gave me to give to you, and I don’t remember that either!” 

Despite his obvious distress, I couldn’t help but be touched by his words. I glanced down at the ring on my hand, and saw it in a whole new light. It was no longer a spur of the moment mistake, but instead a beautiful gesture that had come from the most important man in my life, and the woman who had raised him so that he could be the man he is now. 

“Spencer,” I breathed. He looked at me and I smiled slightly. “Were you planning on proposing to me this weekend?” 

He nodded his head. 

“Yes, I had it all planned out,” he said, and I could sense he was about to launch into another rant. I reached out and cradled his cheek in my palm. He looked at me inquisitively. 

“This was your mom’s ring?” I asked. He nodded his head silently, and I smiled tenderly at him. 

“Spencer, it doesn’t matter that we got married last night. It doesn’t matter how we did it. We’ll go home, and we’ll tell everyone we got married, and they’re going to be so happy for us. And soon, we’ll have a wedding celebration with everyone that’s important to us. It’ll be great.” 

“It really doesn’t bother you that it happened this way?” he asked. I shook my head. 

“No,” I said honestly. “You know why?”


“Because,” I began, “I have you. You’re everything that I ever needed or wanted, Spence. You gave me this ring, your mom’s ring, and that means the world to me. It doesn’t matter how we got here. It matters that we did, and where we go from here. It matters that we’re together. I love you, and I don’t care where or when or how we got married.” 

For the first time, Spencer smiled at me. 

“We got married,” he marveled. I laughed and leaned in to kiss him. 

“We got married,” I echoed. 

Yall mind if I rant: The Sequel Nobody Wanted

The newest comic got me to question my stance on Korra/sami yet again (the dashes here exist to keep it out of the tags, just in case that’s still a problem). The short version of this is that my stance really hasn’t changed. (Also, just a headsup, I haven’t read my old anti k/s post in a long time, but it’s probably full of logical fallacies and the lot, so…what I’m getting at here is please don’t judge me based on what I’ve written in the past). 

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Shall We Test That? (Loki/Thor x reader)

Request: phantomsmenace said: hi bonnie! i was wondering if you could write one where during the events of the first avengers movie where Loki tries to protect you while everything is going on? either romantic or platonic? thank you!! 

“It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me.”

Loki heard Fury reply to his taunting, but he didn’t hear the words from his mouth.  In fact, he barely knew what he, himself, had just said. He was simply buying time, waiting for the moment when the Hulk would take center stage against a team that was barely his own, and when Loki could be free to make his escape.  He didn’t care at all about anyone on this floating fortress other than one; he only cared about where they were holding you and how he would reach you.  If his connection to Barton was holding, the archer would already be following his orders to retrieve you and keep you safe.

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A Wing-man

Title: A Wing-man

Summary: Sam feels the need to help Captain get a date with the reader.

Words: 1600

Pairing: Captain America x Reader

Warning: Fluff

Originally posted by capsteverogers-things

Every weekend morning you strolled down the city streets to the national mall or the botanical gardens and read. You had this whole thing about pulling yourself out of your work and putting yourself into different universes. These days today could be draining, complicated, and sad. It was nice to transport to a new place. You found a spot by the reflecting pool on the grass, placing out a blanket, your cup of coffee, and lunch box full of snacks.

You tried not to pay much attention to the ton of people running around the reflection pool or the meetings walking by. It was about the book and the places that book took you. An hour and a half into Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne, a guy collapsed in the grass in front of you. He was breathing heavily and very sweaty, you look at him, “Do you need some water,” you ask.

He looked towards you, shaking his head, “No, nope, just needed to take a breather. Don’t let me bother you,” he breathed out. You eyed him up not believing him. He was wearing an air force shirt, athletic build, and it seemed he could have quite the personality. It was just a feeling you had about him.

“Here,” you leaned over and handed him a water bottle, “Just hydrate, I really wouldn’t like to have to resuscitate you.”

He reached over and grabbed it, “I’m Sam.”

“Y/N,” you reached over and shook his hand.

“Thanks for this,” he drank some of the bottle, “Is that a protein bar,” he pointed on your blanket.

You chuckled, “Yeah,” he did this little pout thing, pretending to cough some more, “Would you like it?”

“If you don’t mind,” he grinned reaching for it, “I’m just so dizzy,” he put a hand on his head to illustrate he felt faint.

“I’m sorry, should I be calling someone to come get you,” I ask, putting my book down completely.

He shook his head, “Nah, I just need a minute or two,” he said opening the protein bar and taking a bite, “So Y/N-.”

“Wilson, you alright,” you looked up to meet the beautiful blue eyes of another man, “I got worried when I didn’t lap you back there,” he was looking down at Sam. You recognized this new man instantly, this was the emphasis Captain America. You noticed him once or twice around the area running or the news. I guess he was the closest celebrity you have ever been near, but you were kind of shy and didn’t like to meddle in other people’s lives.

Pointing his protein bar at Captain, “I just needed some air and this lovely stranger offered me substance and libations.”

“Offered,” Captain mocked his friend, “I’m sorry ma’am, Sam here struggles with social skills. I apologize.”

Shaking your head, returning comfortably to your blanket with your book, “I didn’t mind. I was just glad he was okay. I’m not known for my medical skills and I don’t have a phone on me.”

“How exactly were you going to help me call someone if I said yes to your offer,” Sam shot back, looking mockingly offended.

“I had a plan,” I shot back at him, “It involved running and/or screaming.”

Sam laughed at my response, “Well Y/N, it was real. Thanks for the extra fuel,” he started to get up, “Now Cap,” he looked at Captain America himself, “Give me a head start, stay here for a bit.”

“I don’t think that is necessary,” he said to his running mate, “I’ll take it easy on you.”

Shaking his head again, “Nah man, you don’t want me to faint again. Just let me have a head start, old man,” Sam continued.

“You’re a real-,” Captain started to say.

“Thanks bud,” Sam run backwards onto the trail before spinning around, looking awfully spry again.

You watched the conversation between the two men in amazement. This definitely threw a wrench in your usual morning routine. He looked down at you, “Aa, I don’t mean to barge in on your picnic, but may I,” he asked to sit down with you, “If he wants a head start, I’ve got some time,” he shrugged.

“Yeah,” you looked down to your blanket, pushing all your stuff, including your book out of the way, “Here have a seat.”

“I truly am sorry about interrupting your morning routine. I’m Steve,” he sat down on your blanket and put his hand out to shake, which you instantly accepted.

“Y/N,” you answered, “And it’s fine. My morning routine need a little spice up, I guess.”

Captain nodded looking around, you took this time to look at him, I mean, really look. He was watching the area or looking up at the sky. He was breathing lightly, which was nothing like his friend. Though I imagine a super soldier is built for working out harder than this. His arms seemed to be unreal, you leaned forward to touch it, but before you could, “So today is Winnie the Pooh,” he turned to me suddenly gripping my book.

Letting go the moment, “Oh, yeah,” you said awkwardly, what has gotten into you, “It’s a classic.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I was eight when this came out. My mom would read this to me,” he grinned at the book, “A classic,” he shook his head. You sat quietly, just listening in amazement, “Last week it was The Secret Garden and Ethan Frome,” he made direct eye contact with you grinning, “Not once since I’ve seen you, that you were reading something published in the last twenty years. You must really like old and classic things.” You didn’t know what to say, he was just so pretty, you never acted like this, “I’m sorry, you must think I am really odd. I’m not st-,” he muttered out after your silence.

“Please,” you whispered, “You are truly the last man I’m worried about stalking me. You’re Captain America, I know what people say about you.”

“Oh really,” he grinned putting your book down, “What do they say?”

You blushed, pulling back a stray hair, “That you have an exceptionally strong moral compass, kind, and incredible strong,” you sputtered out, “Oh and very patriotic.”

Who did you think you were, joking around and saying those things? You really needed to learn to keep a tight lip. His laughing drew you back to him, “Yeah, I believe they say that, but right now I’m just Steve Rodgers a man from the Brooklyn, New York.”

You nod, smiling a little, “If that is the case, maybe I should be worried about you noticing my reading habits,” you joked.

“Touché,” he laughed again, “It’s hard to miss a woman like yourself reading such familiar things from my time and not once looking at a phone or using any technology. It’s refreshing,” he grinned looking away from the runners and back at you.

You nod your head, “I’m a lawyer, so I’m always answering my phone or dealing with some new tragedy. And sometimes I think people now a days are so awful, that I come here and throw myself into a whole new universe and what is better than the true classics,” you got carried away again, becoming a chatty Cathy. He must think you’re so weird, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me. I’m not usually so talkative to strangers.”

“Again, refreshing,” he continued to look into your soul. Suddenly he looked at his watch, “I guess I’ve let Sam get enough of a head start. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your morning ma’am,” he began to stand.

“That’s alright Captain, you definitely made it more interesting. Take care of Sam, you might have to go a little easier on him,” you look up at him.

“Not a chance,” he grinned down at you, taking a few steps back, “And it’s Steve, please.”

You were overwhelmed by an impulse to ask Captain a question, “I’m sorry, Cap – Steve, but do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No, ask away ma’am.”

“When you said a woman like myself, what did you mean,” you were concerned he meant weird or worse, though you’re sure Captain America wouldn’t say anything if that is what he meant when he said it.

He grinned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, checking the running path before answering, “Beautiful ma’am – a woman like yourself I meant a beautiful.”

You sat back in shock, “Oh, oh alright. As long as you didn’t think I was weird.”

Sam whistled on past us again, Captain sent him a glare, “That’s my call,” he pointed at Sam.

“This was interesting, thank you,” you said to him again.

He looked down the path at Sam, “Hey, look – do you, could I buy you your coffee tomorrow? Maybe join you. I won’t bother you, we can sit in silence and read.”

Taken back, you blinked a few times. Captain looked a little discouraged by your hesitation, “Sure, I mean, that sounds fine,” he looked relieved, “One condition, you’ll have to tell me what it was like to be alive when my book was published.”

He chuckled, “Deal,” he smiled looking down, “See you in the morning Y/N.”

“Goodbye Steve,” you waved after him. Not in a million years would you have guessed that you’d get a date with the infamous Captain America.

Captain caught up quickly to Sam, “Did you get a date?”

“You think you’re so clever,” he said to Sam, “I could have done that on my own.”

“Nah man,” he said smiling at his friend, “You’ve been out of the game for far too long. You need yourself a wingman.” He burst into a blunt laugh, “Ha, get it wing man. Now that is a pun.”

“I’m going to sprint past you know.”

“Your welcome,” Sam screamed after him.