cadey/cadence - THEE bisexual - baby girl version of megumi fushiguro - fighting demons in my head like I'm idatori - need me a baddie like megan the stalli - ya daddy n ya momma favorite 💙 - itafushi embassador
this post seems to have broken containment and if anyone's interested in what they were telling me to stop, i found the og post with this song and was mass reblogging it at an alarming rate. ive done this multiple times but i think this was the instance i reblogged it 64 times in a row
PlayStation putting out a legal notice saying they’re removing 500+ movies from user accounts days before announcing they’re getting rid of physical discs for games is an interesting choice
the smartest most intelligent guy in the world with the most hugest dick ever like so big, like the biggest dick ever, man and also soooo intelligent and thoughtful and just so so intelligent: have you tried pushing yourself?
from my own experience and also from what i hear from others, the issue seems to stem from a fundamental misunderstanding of how i know my limits. i know because i have discovered and tested them. i push them sometimes, carefully. and occasionally i get ok results or at least nothing bad happens. but sometimes something does happen, so i MUST respect my limits.
but when i talk about disability to abled people, they assume its just a bad attitude. like ive defaulted to a "i cant" attitude. and that stems from a fundamental mistrust of disabled people, and the cultural grift of acting like bad things can only exist in the mind. yes i know this is old news. anyways.
my doctor literally told me point blank to cancel my gym membership and stop going, and that avoiding pushing myself, even on good days, was the most important thing I could do for my health.
I could have cried because its what I felt all along, I knew that's how my body worked best, but the internal and external shame over being "lazy" is so insane it had me doing things that I knew actively triggered flareups just to avoid the perception of laziness.
can people stop bringing up how white they are? especially when non-white people talk about the bigotry they face, but just in general. I don't care about your skin color, I care if you're doing something to fight racism.
michael’s daughter!reader who goes by birdie more than her actual name. michael heard her singing around the house when she was little, told her she sounded as beautiful as a songbird. prince yelled out “birdie” and the nickname stuck ever since.
michael’s daughter!reader who is spoiled beyond belief but still humble. michael can’t resist spoiling his youngest daughter, but always reminds her that just because they’re privileged doesn’t mean they’re better than anyone else.
michael’s daughter!reader who went to auntie janet’s dancing school of cuntology, and went on to be a majorette dancer in college, and has headlined plenty of major tours.
michael’s daughter!reader who loves going shopping with her aunties latoya and janet making sure she keeps up with the latest fashions and giving them a small runway show in the fitting room.
michael’s daughter!reader who is exceptionally close with her siblings. being born right between paris and bigi, she’s the perfect middle child.
michael’s daughter!reader who is michael’s favorite child… at least that’s the running joke between the siblings. they all know michael would never actually pick favorites, but being the youngest daughter and sharing more noticeable vitiligo with their dad definitely earns birdie a few extra “favorite child” allegations from prince, paris, and bigi.
michael’s daughter!reader who loves her cousins genevieve, randy jr, jaafar, and jermajesty the most because they’re closest to her age (and if she’s being honest, their family is so large, they’re the only ones she can really keep up with)
michael’s daughter!reader who loves teasing her uncles and dad as they get older and don’t fully understand how to operate technology and social media
michael’s daughter!reader who’s very overprotective of her father, especially when it comes to the media. learning how horribly the press treated him in 80s/90s, birdie always says if you’re not gonna step to her father correctly, then don’t step to him at all.
michael’s daughter!reader who’s never tried to hide her vitiligo. the patches on her skin just become another part of who she is, no matter how many ridiculous headlines the media writes. having a dad who understands that kind of scrutiny better than anyone means she grew up knowing she never had to apologize for something she couldn’t control.
☆Summary: You suddenly call him by his name instead of any kind of nicknames and Michael panics.
◇Word Count: 0.4k
》 I promise I'm working on the next chapters (4k+ and 3k+ words respectively), i just keep on getting ideas. Not proofread and ending kinda got lazy
If there is one thing that Michael learned to fear in the relationship, it would be the rare anger he would’ve incurred within you, his usually tolerant fiance.
“Michael, can you help me out here?”
He and his brothers immediately looked over to you from where they had gathered on the couch with matching alarmed expressions before turning to him with questions in their gazes.
“Mikey, what did you do to your lady?”
“Full government name? You’re in trouble.”
Michael quickly crosses the distance between you, ignoring his brothers’ concerns and teasing remarks as he takes the rest of the groceries from your arms to bring it to the kitchen.
You sounded calm but it felt like the stillness before the storm. Michael started looking back into the past few hours since you both woke up that morning to find an instance where he triggered this silent anger.
“Baby? What’d I do?”
The furrow in your eyebrows deepened as you placed the paper bags down with a huff.
“What do you mean, Michael?” You ask him with a quirk in your eyebrow, voice sounding a little too neutral it unsettles him.
“Why are you calling me, Michael? What did I do? Is this about the fries on the fridge? I didn’t eat them.”
He could remember you saying clearly that you don't want them anymore as you put it back in the paperbag. Michael was doing the right thing by eating it rather than let it rot forgotten in the fridge, although he would not admit it to you.
“There is nothing wrong, why are you being weird?”
“Call me Mikey if there’s really nothing wrong.”
“Mikey. Michael, what is—”
“Mikey.” He repeats, intonating every syllable back to you. “You’re calling me by my full name.”
“I wasn’t initially pissed off but I’m getting there, sweetheart.” You warned him with a sickeningly sweet smile and he realised then that you weren’t holding any heat behind his full name, and his fearful expression melted into relief.
He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him.
“Okay, I'm sorry. You called me by my full name and I panicked.” He tells you, placing a haste kiss on the tip of your nose.
no i don't think those characters are siblings i think they're friends. I don't think that's their mom I actually think she's their friend. I don't think they're related actually I think they're friends with each other.
Allow me to demonstrate. I am not a visual artist, but I will attempt to communicate my point. If any actual visual artists would like to improve upon this, please feel free.
July 20, 1992: The Dangerous Tour is in Copenhagen, Denmark, with 30,000 spectators at Gentofte Stadion. Michael Jackson is staying at the Hotel d’Angleterre in the Danish capital and makes an appearance on the balcony to greet fans.
origamiaround
areudirty
snowghoul
ellievsbear
amandla
gracieabrams
prguitarman
