Warnings: making out, slight mentions of masturbation, sex toys
You’re on your new laptop the next day when Agatha walks into the bakery. Your face lights up and she smiles at you the second she’s through the door. Like every time you see her, she manages to take your breath away.
“Hey!” You exclaim, motioning your hands around the laptop. “Thank you so much again. You did not have to do this.”
“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, hon,” she says. Agatha’s now stopped in front of the counter, looking at you expectantly.
“Do you want the usual?”
She smirks playfully. “Do you remember everyone’s order?”
“Only the ones that tip about 500% and buy me laptops,” you joke, but there’s some truth to it. You’ve had customers that have come in every day for a week and you don’t even realize it’s the same person. She seems satisfied with your quip and nods.
“I’d love the ‘usual,’ thank you.”
This time, though, when she holds out the typical $50, you pull out the change from the register and insist she take it. She raises an eyebrow.
“Please, Agatha, you just bought me a computer,” you say, the beg coming out a little whiny. She teasingly rolls her eyes and takes the money from you. “Thank you. Your coffee will be right up.”
“Actually, can you make it two?”
Your heart skips a beat. Who is joining her? A friend? Her partner?
And then you inwardly scold yourself for caring.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Another espresso?”
She shrugs slyly and skates a finger over the countertop. “I don’t know. What kind of coffee do you want?”
You stare at her blankly, trying to make sense of her question. She must see your puzzled expression because she tosses her head back with a laugh.
“I’m asking you to have coffee with me, doll,” she explains and the lightbulb clicks in your mind.
“Oh–oh my god! I’m sorry.” Of course you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of the most beautiful woman on the planet.
“You don’t have to.” This is the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of doubt on her face.
“No, no, I want to. Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee over when I’m ready.”
She sits down at the normal booth and you busy yourself making an espresso and a pumpkin spice latte. This time, you allow yourself to glance at Agatha and you feel something in your stomach when you notice that she’s already looking at you, a fond smile on her lips. There’s a tug in your gut and you smile back. You’re not sure why the older woman is drawn to you this much, but you are not complaining.
There’s something about her too. Something that pulls you in and doesn’t want to let you go.
You successfully make the coffee this time without any broken laptops and you bring them over to the table, sitting across from her before she has to ask. She looks pleased and blows on her coffee before taking a sip.
“What’s your drink of choice?” She asks, nodding at your cup.
“Oh, just a pumpkin spice latte,” you say dismissively. “I’m a big pumpkin fan.” She nods like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. “And, thank you again. For the laptop. You really didn’t have to do that. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You don’t mean for it to sound as dirty as it does and she smirks like she hears it too.
“There is one thing you can do.” You urge her earnestly with your eyes. “Go ice skating with me tonight?” It’s getting colder in Westview and the winter festivities are being broken out, including the Winter Wonderland in the square. Complete with an ice skating rink, hot chocolate stands, a snow pit, a hill for the kids to sled down, and even more, it was a town favorite.
You frown but your heart skips a beat at the thought of her wanting to hang with you. As a date? “How is that repaying you?”
She flicks her hand. “The money isn’t a big deal. I just want to get to know you better. Unless you’re busy.”
“No, I have literally nothing to do later,” you say, shaking your head. She looks relieved. “Can I at least pay for the tickets?”
“Honey,” she scoffs playfully. “I asked, so I’m paying. If you want to pay, you’ll just have to ask me to do something another time.”
“This sounds an awful lot like a date,” you say before you can stop yourself. The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow.
“Do you want it to be?”
“Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, your voice hoarse at the thought. A date. With a rich, hot, older woman. She smiles genuinely. “What time? Oh, I hope all my winter clothes aren’t at home.” You haven’t been back in awhile to your parents’ house and you only brought the necessities to make it until you go back. You’re not sure how many cute options you’ll have.
“I’ll pick you up around five-thirty? And do you have warm clothes?” She gives you a once-over. You’re in jeans and your uniform top. In the back, you have the heavy coat you wear when you have to go outside, and back at your dorm, you have sweatpants. Not exactly up to par with this gorgeous woman.
You smile and nod and try to not appear too nervous. What to wear is always a point of stress for you. She must sense this because she reaches over to pat your hand reassuringly and then pulls out her wallet from her pocket.
Before you can protest, she slaps a credit card down on the table. Your jaw drops and you look back and forth between it and Agatha.
“Go to the mall and get whatever you want,” she tells you, and there is not even a trace of a joke in her tone.
“How do you know I won’t just buy a car or something crazy?”
She laughs. “I trust you. And I don’t think you would. You seem like a good girl.” She puts a lot of emphasis on those words and it makes you feel hot. You’re sure your cheeks have turned red. “Text me your address before tonight, yeah?”
You nod because you don’t trust yourself to talk at this point. What kind of woman just casually hands over her credit card to someone she barely knows?
“Um, thank you,” is all you can muster the strength to say. She gives you one last smile before getting up from the table.
“I’ll see you tonight, doll.”
The moment you’re done with your shift, you head to the mall. You’re not exactly sure what will suffice for the date, but you hope you’ll know it when you see it.
You eventually find some black pants that make your ass look great and a cute purple sweater with a blue vest. It’s a little pricey though. You know Agatha said to get whatever you wanted, but you still feel a little guilty, especially after she’s thrown so much other money at you.
So you text her. Hey Agatha! At the mall right now. Just want to check if there was a limit to how much I could spend? I found some stuff but it’s almost $200. If that’s too much, no worries at all! You send her your address as well before you can forget.
She immediately replies. Get the stuff and anything else you want. I can’t wait to see what you’ve picked out ;) see you later.
The winky face causes heat to pump through your veins and you bite your lip. You clear your throat and head to the check-out, heart beating fast when you press Agatha’s credit card to the reader. It goes through and you breathe a sigh of relief.
You still can’t believe she just handed it over so willingly.
Is she your sugar mommy now?
The question weighs on your mind until she texts you that she’s outside your building later that afternoon. You give yourself a once-over and run downstairs to her car. The new clothes are comfy and warm and she looks at you approvingly when you slide into the passenger seat.
“Good choice,” she says.
“Thank you again,” you reply, a little breathless from the cold and your speed. You take out her card from your wallet and hand it to her. “I can’t believe you just gave your card to some random stranger like that.”
She laughs along with you. “I know you wouldn’t do anything. You seem too desperate to please.” Your face heats and you’re not really sure what to say. She isn’t wrong. There’s something about Agatha that makes you want to do whatever she says. “How was the rest of work?”
“Oh, good.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It was a pretty slow day today. Did you have work?”
She launches into telling you about her newest court case and you find yourself absolutely fascinated to the point of not even realizing that you’ve arrived. Everything Agatha says has you absolutely enthralled and by the faint smirk on her face, she knows it too.
She leads you over to the ticket stand, her hand on your lower back, and confidently buys two.
“Thank you,” you say again, a little flustered by how she hasn’t let you pay for anything. You’ll be damned if you leave without buying her a drink or something.
“Of course, doll. Do you want to skate first?” You nod eagerly, causing her to chuckle, and you both go to pick out skates. She has to help you lace them up after you fumble with them for a while since your hands have become so cold.
“Full disclosure, I’m not very good at skating,” you warn her when she’s holding onto your arm at the gate.
“I can help you, sweetheart,” she says and your heart feels so full.
She gets onto the ice first and lets go of the railing so she can grab your hands and assist you in stepping onto the rink. Your eyes widen when you almost fall after moving your foot forward and it shoots back, but Agatha catches you in her strong arms.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim as she stands you back up, never letting go of her tight grip on you.
“It takes a bit to figure out. How many times have you ice skated?”
“None,” you say, tongue poking through your lips as you look down at your feet and focus on sliding them forward. She glides backwards with you effortlessly. When you finally look up at her, she’s staring at you with something written on her face you can’t quite read. “What?”
“You could’ve told me that you hadn’t, I would’ve taken you to dinner or something else,” she says.
“No, no, it’s totally fine. I would’ve done whatever you wanted to do,” you reply half-mindedly. You’re more focused on skating around the corner. Once you do so successfully, her hands move from your wrists to only one hand holding your hip.
But her touch makes you jump, fire igniting in your stomach, and you slip and fall on the ice.
You groan in pain and Agatha stifles a laugh before squatting down to check on you. The cold has seeped into your wet pants and the humiliation burns your cheeks.
“You okay, doll?”
You nod your head defeatedly. “Yeah, just a little wet.” The moment you say it, you can see her eyes darken just the slightest. Your breath catches when you realize the innuendo and there’s a tense silence with the two of you just staring at each other while others skate around you.
“Well, let’s get you up. Want to keep trying?” Agatha asks finally. She gets back on her feet as gracefully as ever.
“As long as you don’t let me fall again,” you joke and take her outstretched hands.
“I didn’t let you fall, you did that all on your own,” she says playfully.
She carefully lifts you up and you grab onto her biceps when you’re fully standing so you don’t crash back down. Her hands grab your waist again to hold you steady and when you look at her face, she’s staring at your lips.
“Agatha,” you say, but you’re not sure what else to add because now you’re staring at her lips too. She leans in an imperceptible amount and your mouth parts involuntarily, ready for a kiss.
“Look out!” Someone shouts and the next thing you know, a three foot tall blur runs straight into you, knocking you, Agatha, and the random person down.
“Sorry!” The kid exclaims and jumps up to skate away, leaving you and Agatha wincing on the ice.
“Why don’t we go find something else to do?” She asks and you’ve never been more happy to agree.
Agatha helps you up once again and this time, interlocks her fingers with yours and slowly skates with you to the exit.
Once you’ve gotten your shoes back on, Agatha buys the two of you cups of hot chocolate and a pretzel to split and leads you over to a bench so you can sit.
“Thank you for this,” you say, shoving a piece of the pretzel into your mouth.
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
The pet name does things to you that you can’t say and you find yourself wishing that the almost-kiss on the ice actually happened. You feel so connected and attracted to Agatha, even though you’re not sure why.
“Why do you keep tipping me so much and buying me all these nice things?” You’re finally brave enough to voice the question that’s been on your mind since the first day she came into the bakery.
She smiles and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You deserve it. And I like spoiling you. You get this cute little look in your eye.” You blush instantly and she laughs. “Like that.”
“Well, can I take you out sometime soon? Maybe for dinner or a movie or something?”
“I’d like that. I’m free Tuesday or Thursday night this week.”
“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” you say, happy that she’s finally going to let you treat her to something. “Unless I see you at the bakery first. It seems to have become an integral part of your morning.” You’re teasing but part of you wants her to elaborate on what she’s doing.
“What can I say? The cinnamon crumb cake and the espresso are to die for,” she says with a wink. You laugh despite yourself.
Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sip on your drinks and eat the pretzel.
“Is there anything else you want to do?” She asks.
“Can we go on the ferris wheel?”
“Of course, dear.” She stands up and offers you her hand and you obviously take it.
The line for the ride isn’t long at all so you basically walk right into a passenger car. Agatha sits next to you instead of across from you so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders. The wheel starts turning and something on the ceiling catches your eye.
“Is that mistletoe?” You ask, pointing up at it and then looking at Agatha, who is also peering up at it, corners of her mouth quirking up.
“Looks like it,” she answers thoughtfully and then glances at you playfully. “Shall we?”
You don’t even answer, just clasp her cheek with your hand and pull her in.
It’s a slow kiss at first, just a press of your mouth against hers, but then she opens her lips and slides her tongue into your mouth. You moan into her mouth and try to pull her even closer to you so you can feel more of her. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth make a clicking noise when they clash against each other.
When you have to pull back for air, she kisses down your jaw and then gently bites on your neck. You gasp and your hips jump against nothing.
“Agatha,” you breathe and you can feel her smirking as she nibbles on your earlobe. A fire stokes to life in your stomach and your body feels like a lifewire. One of her hands dips under your vest so she can cup your breast through your sweater. You whimper and she chuckles lowly. “Please.”
“Is this okay?” She asks and you nod so hard your head hurts. She smirks and her hand slides down and under your sweater.
The coldness of her fingers against your warm stomach makes you gasp but you like it and you pull her back in for a kiss. Her hand keeps moving up under your shirt and she’s about to reach your bra—
—and the Ferris wheel stops. You let out a sigh of disappointment and Agatha laughs.
The door to your car opens and the two of you step out. You wonder if your face is as red as it seems and you hope that no one accidentally saw you two making out.
“So what now?” She asks once you’re back in the middle of the fair. But there’s only one thing on your mind right now.
You don’t care that you’re surrounded by people right now; you stand up on your tiptoes and give her a searing kiss which she returns immediately. Your hands wrap around her neck and hers find their place on your waist. You end the kiss by tugging on her bottom lip and when you pull back, her blue eyes are dark and hooded.
“Can we do more of that?” You breathe and she chuckles. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your life and you think if you don’t have her hands on you in the next ten minutes you might die.
“Anything you want,” she whispers and presses one last chaste kiss to your lips. “Does this mean you want to leave?”
“Please,” you beg and she smirks at how visibly desperate you are. You’ve become so wet and needy since she put her hand on your waist on the ice. You practically drag her back to the car and when she pulls back in front of your dorm, you look at her with begging eyes. “Come in?”
The moment you say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Bringing a hot, rich, older woman up to your living space that’s probably the size of her closet so she can fuck you in your twin sized bed? Plus it was your first date and you’ve known her for less than a week.
She’s clearly thinking the same thing because she smiles softly and says, “Maybe on Tuesday, doll.”
And yet, you whine. “Why can’t we just go back to your place right now? Please, I’m so-” You cut yourself off before you can tell her just how much you really need her.
Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take care of that yourself then?” You gape and a flush climbs up your neck and to your face, but she leans in and keeps going. “Use your hand, or a toy, to think about me. Just to tide you over for a bit.”
“I don’t have a toy,” is all you can think to say with your brain short-circuiting. That shouldn’t have been the part to focus on, but Agatha pulls back with wide eyes.
“You don’t?”
And then the image of Agatha using a toy on herself inserts itself in your brain and you have to cross a leg over the other to get some sense of relief. “No,” you squeak out.
The glint in her eyes is positively evil. “Have a good night, doll.” She gives you one last kiss and then unlocks the car door. You give her a playful glare and then go upstairs.
After you’ve showered and put on pajamas, you slide your hand down your sweatpants and touch yourself.
It takes all of three minutes before you cum all over your hand, just replaying the kiss with Agatha in your mind.
You fall asleep quickly after that and in the morning, you’re surprised to see a notification saying that you have a package in the delivery room. You throw on a sweatshirt and head down and it’s a medium sized brown box with your name and an A. Harkness as the mailer.
Frowning, you take it back to your room and cut it open. Moving the flaps aside, you peer in the box and gasp.
There’s at least four sex toys. A vibrator, a dildo, a different type of toy, and then a small box. You pick up the box and immediately drop it.
It’s a remote controlled, long-distance vibrator.
Your breathing has quickened and you feel your underwear growing wet yet again because of Agatha.
And then you see a piece of paper. Hands shaking, you pull it out and open it.
Hope you enjoy ;) Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. See you soon.
Hot, rich, lawyer Agatha comes into the bakery where you work and she takes quite an interest in you (or Sugar mommy Agatha)
Word count: 2000
Warnings: none yet
A/N: hope you guys like this one!
The bakery is always dead on Sunday afternoons.
You’re not really sure why, maybe people are getting ready for the week or something, but it seems that in the town of Westview, no one craves sweets on Sundays.
You’re not complaining, though. That just means you get to sit in an empty store and scroll on your phone and still get paid.
Working at the bakery part time was a nice way to make some money while you finish up college, and to be honest, you did really like it. Your coworkers were all super nice and it wasn’t a very demanding job either.
And then the bell on the door rings. You look up from your phone, startled.
It’s a woman that you’ve never seen before.
She’s wearing a tight white blouse under a brown blazer and smart gray pants. Her long, dark hair flows freely over one shoulder and her pale skin and blue eyes are striking. She is attractive.
It doesn’t help that you’ve always had a thing for older women.
“Hi,” she says, coming to a stop in front of the counter.
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” You ask the rehearsed question. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said it in your sleep at this point.
“What do you recommend?”
You’re not even sure she’s looked at the menu that’s posted above the counter. “Depends on what you like. We have cupcakes, cake, pastries. It’s all good. What are you in the mood for?”
You might be imagining it, but it really seems like her eyes rake up and down your body. She shrugs noncommittally. “Something fresh, something…sweet.” You swallow hard at the glint of heat in her eyes.
“I just took a batch of cupcakes out of the oven,” you say. “Do you like red velvet?”
“Sure, hon. I’ll take three,” she says. You smile wearily and get to work packaging them up. She watches you the whole time.
You ring up the purchase on the register and clear your throat. “That’ll be $7.50.” She smirks and pulls out her wallet, flipping through bills. She pulls one out and hands it to you and your mouth falls open.
It's $50.
“Keep the change,” she says with a wink. She grabs the box and walks swiftly out of the bakery.
You assume it’s a one-time thing and pocket the extra money. You secretly hope she comes back though.
And sure enough, she struts back in three days later, dressed just as nicely as she was the first time. You’re working the morning shift before your afternoon class and you are sipping on a desperately needed cup of coffee. She must be really rich, you think as she walks up, a smile playing on her lips.
“Morning, hon,” she says.
“Good morning, how are you doing today?”
“Better now,” she replies and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter. “Can I get an espresso and a piece of cinnamon crumb cake?”
“Of course. Anything else?”
She raises an eyebrow teasingly like she wants to make a joke but says, “That’s all, dear. Thank you.”
“Your total comes to $8.75,” you tell her. “For here or to-go?”
“For here, please.”
“I’ll get you the cake and then the coffee will be ready soon.”
When you turn back with the piece of cake on a plate, she’s holding another $50 bill between her fingers.
“Oh, I can’t–” She cuts you off by putting it into your uniform shirt pocket and pats it. You freeze with her hand basically touching your boob. She smirks and takes the plate from your hand and goes to sit in a corner booth. You don’t allow yourself to look at her as you make her espresso.
She’s on her phone when you walk over to her, but she looks up earnestly when you put the cup down in front of her.
“Here’s your coffee,” you say and you’re turning around to go back behind the counter when she touches your wrist.
“Why don’t you sit down?” She asks, and it’s clear she’s not asking. And even if she was, she’s tipped you almost more than you make in a day on two separate occasions. You plop down on the other side of the table. “How do you like working here?”
“Oh, um, it’s nice. I enjoy it. Plus we get dessert for free so can’t complain,” you say, a little surprised by the question.
“Are you still in college?”
“Yeah, I’m graduating in the spring.” She nods like she’s deep in thought. “What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer,” she answers, confidence oozing from her voice. Her tipping so much makes a lot more sense now. You launch into a series of questions, absolutely fascinated by her words, and she gives you everything you want.
You’re so engrossed in her stories that you almost miss the bell to the bakery ringing. You suddenly jolt and remember that you’re supposed to be working.
“Sorry, excuse me,” you say hastily and dart back behind the counter. A man orders a croissant and a coffee and you get his order out quickly. You want to back over to the woman, but you feel like you shouldn’t, especially with the other customer in here now. You can feel her looking at you the whole time though.
A few minutes later she walks back up to the counter and places her empty coffee cup and plate down.
“Oh, thank you,” you say, surprised. You usually clean off the tables yourself.
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes sweep over your face. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“I’ll be here,” you joke lamely but she smirks regardless. “I’m y/n.”
“I know,” she responds, reaching over again to tap on the tag that clearly says your name. You blush furiously and fight the urge to hide your face in your hands. “I’m Agatha.”
“Nice to meet you, Agatha,” you say, trying out her name on your tongue. You like how it sounds, how it feels.
“Have a good day, hon.” Before you can tell her to have one too, she’s on her way out of the bakery, the bell announcing her departure. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. How is it that she can have this much effect on you after meeting her twice?
You take the bill from your shirt pocket and put it in the register, collecting the change. Sure she’s rich, but she doesn’t have to be giving you this much money.
So why is she?
You spend the rest of the day thinking about Agatha.
The next day, she comes strolling in at the exact same time. You’re doing some school work on your laptop and you hope you don’t visibly perk up as much as you feel. You wonder if those three days you didn’t see her between the first meeting and yesterday she had come by when you weren't on shift.
But that’s a crazy thought, because surely she isn’t coming by just to see you. She orders the same thing: an espresso with a piece of cinnamon crumb cake.
She gives you another crisp $50 bill.
“I know you have money to burn, being a fancy lawyer and all,” you tease. “But please don’t go broke buying coffee and cake.”
She laughs melodically. “Doll, I’m not just buying coffee and cake, I’m thanking the excellent service.” And once again, she’s made you flush. You inwardly tell yourself that you need to stop letting her have such an effect on you.
You get her the cake and she goes to sit down at the booth from yesterday and you begin making her coffee. You’re lost in thought, wondering if Agatha will invite you to sit with her again, when your hand shakes as you're pouring coffee from the pot to the cup and splashes onto your hand.
You gasp loudly and drop the pot. It shatters all over the counter and soaks your laptop.
“Oh, god, no!” You groan and rush to grab paper towels. You quickly sop up the mess from your laptop and carefully collect the pieces of glass.
“Everything okay?” Agatha asks and you turn to find her standing at the counter again, a look of worry on her face.
“Yeah, god, I’m sorry, I accidentally dropped the coffee,” you sputter. You throw the towels away and open up your computer, frantically pressing the power button.
It doesn’t turn on.
With a defeated sigh, you close it and pinch the bridge of your nose. Of fucking course. You aren’t sure how you’re going to pay for a new laptop.
“You okay?” Concern laces Agatha’s voice.
You scoff and shrug. “There could not be a worse time for my computer to break. I have school work that needs to be done – I have an exam to take! And now I have to go find time to go to the store and buy a new one and ugh. It’s just so frustrating.” It feels good to vent and then you realize that you’re talking to basically a complete stranger. You straighten up. “Sorry, let me get a new pot and I’ll have that espresso right up.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll get it next time.” She winks at you.
“Next time it’s on the house,” you say. She laughs like it’s some sort of inside joke. Granted, if she keeps tipping like she does, you could buy yourself a new computer in no time.
You still don’t know why she’s doing it. You open your mouth to say something, maybe ask her what she’s doing here, but she cuts you off.
“I have to go. I’ll see you later?” She asks, sounding slightly hopeful.
“You know where I’ll be,” you answer, feeling a longing pang in your chest as her face lights up at your cheesy comment.
“Sorry about your laptop,” she adds before she sticks another $20 in the tip jar. You gape at her as she smirks and walks out. She is quite literally just throwing cash at you.
And it doesn’t stop there either.
You’re just about to finish up your shift when a man walks in, carrying a white plastic bag and a clipboard.
“Y/n?” He asks, looking at a piece of paper. You affirm and he puts the bag on the counter in front of you. “Sign here, please?” You’re not quite sure what’s happening at all but you do as you’re told.
Once he walks out of the bakery, you practically tear open the bag to see what’s in it. The first thing you find is a note.
Hope this will suffice. Let me know if you like it. X, Agatha. And then a number at the bottom. Your mouth drops open and you go back into the bag and pull out a box. You take the top off and inside is a sleek, dark, new MacBook Air. Probably close to a thousand dollars.
“Holy shit,” you mutter under your breath. You run your hands over the smooth cover and open it up. It blinks to life and you actually laugh out loud.
Fucking Agatha. You’ve met her three times and she just bought you a brand new computer because you accidentally spilled coffee on yours just that morning.
Speaking of the older woman. You pull out your phone and type the number into it.
It’s y/n. Thank you so much for the laptop! You are literally a lifesaver. Is there anything I can do to repay you? I’d give you free coffee and cake for the rest of your life, but I might get fired. Thanks again! You decide it’s a good mix of gratitude and humor and send it.
Bubbles immediately appear and you wait with bated breath.
Finally a response appears and heat courses through your veins.
Of course, doll, it’s my pleasure. And don’t worry about paying me back just yet. I’m sure we’ll figure something out ;)
ellievsbear
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