#{ wrong again. }

[rottsblog]

Some of yall sound biphobic as hell when youre trying to explain the difference between pan and bi.

[minghaopalm]

⌗; wrong again ⌗

    The air was hot and humid, and the sidewalk seemed to sizzle as the scorching sun's beams appeared to radiate against it. Today was quite a slow day, and the sultriness in the air did nothing but aid in bringing the teen to a state of apathy and unwillingness to work. Gliding down the half-pipe, he came to a halt on the flat center of the ramp. He was instructing a younger boy of a rather small build, and Minghao could admit, the boy was a handful. As the boy cruised down the pipe, he awaited his stop before flashing a grin and gave a thumbs up approvingly. He hopped off of his board, assisting the boy in removing his protective gear before giving the child a pat on the back. "Same time tomorrow," he mentioned as the boy went off to take his mother's welcoming hand into his own.

    The sweltering late afternoon heat left him rather exhausted, hoping that a prayer would fast forward time so he could just go home and take a nice cold shower. He heaved a sigh as he combed through his damp, silver locks of hair with his slim fingers, other hand pushing the door to the East of Maui Surf Shack. At last, his shift ended and it was time for him to head back to his room at the Newgrove Complex. Minghao grabbed his longboard (which he had placed directly behind the counter so that customers wouldn't see it and possibly mistake it for an item for sale) and set off for the complex.

    He sailed steadily on his board, pushing on towards the comfort of his own room. Afar off, he could see the Summer House which was run by the Kang family and the line that followed afterward. His mouth practically watered for the refreshing dessert (especially in the condition he was in), and he found himself stopping for a quick treat. He shoved his hand into his front pocket and pulled out his wallet. Shuffling through the bills, he plucked a few dollars from within the leather fold before taking his place behind the last customer in line.

    Pursing his lips, he peered over heads and above shoulders at the two ladies scooping icecream and neatly piling them onto a cone. He had been to the Summer House once or twice -- it had been the taller blonde who had been there to serve his ice cream both times. As the line seemed to slowly disappear, he stepped up to the window, eyeing the variety of flavors he could choose from.