My name is Emma and I have an obsession with the internet. She/Her Lazy as shit If you wanna talk to me, which I highly doubt you do just message me for contact info. (No longer using this account, peep @cffsfrfckrs for my new one)
I haven’t been active on this account in years, but forever it will be a special place. I’ll never delete this.
This account may be cringy and something from my past, but it changed my life. I started out by writing fanfics on here, making content for fandoms and most importantly making friends.
On December 10th of 2015, I got a message from @lilrae22 — she was the first and only person to respond to the hundreds of reblogs of ‘internet friend applications’ of sorts that I had on my page. I barely thought anything of it for the first couple months of chatting.
I found out she had turned 20 only 6 days before we met, she said happy birthday for the first time 6 days after we met, when I turned 15 and she’s been the first one to say it to me since.
As time past, we moved from here to talking on Kik. There’s years of memories buried in their servers. We even had an LGBT Instagram account together with a bunch of friends of ours for over a year.
This year marks 5 years since we met. I’ll be turning the age that she was when we met. We are best friends, bonded by years of memories and video chats and posts online. She’s been the only person to stick around in my life, even from 3,000 miles away on the complete opposite end of the country from me.
The week of June 10th just past recently. It was the worst week I’ve had in a long, long time. Lillian was there for every second of it. She answered every call, every text, anytime I needed my best friend, she was there.
That’s why I decided, 5 days later on June 15th that it was time.
I bought my plane ticket out to California that morning for that coming Sunday, June 21st.
I landed in the airport at 6:20pm, then I finally landed in my best friends arms after 4 and a half years of planning at 6:30pm.
To anybody that still follows me, the people I knew, the friends I’ve made, thank you for getting me here today. If you know me at all, you’ll know this was the biggest moment of my life.
I get 10 days in my dream state with my best friend and I owe it all to this website.
And to you, Lillian,
Meeting you was more than worth the wait. I love you, I’m so glad you’re here and that I’m here with you. Someday 3,000 miles will be a long forgotten memory, buried beneath thousands of memories of us living just down the hall from each other.
Someday everything will be perfect, I promise. Until then (and forever after that) I’ll be by your side, even if it’s from 3,000 miles away.
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Lmao this is probably my most active following I’ve ever had but none of y’all interact w/ me the last time I made a friend here was like 2014/5 (lmao shout out to @personal-instability wherever you maybe today)
Sorry this took a decade to get to you but school sucks and I’ve been obsessively writing a fic I’ve been working on!! But I hope you enjoy!
“Could you sneeze any louder, Dal?” Huffs the blue-haired boy from his spot on the couch. Dallon was wrapped in every blanket in the house, sat in his chair in their shared living room.
“How kind.” Coughs the big man who was curled to be as small as a mouse at the moment. Being sick was something that Dallon never really experienced. If he ever was ill, it was just a little cough and a runny nose, occasionally a scratchy throat. Right now, he kind of felt like he was dying.
“If you would take the medicine the doctor gave you then maybe I would feel bad for being rude.” Scoffs Ryan. Dallon also refused to take medicine because he was ‘fine’ and it was ‘just a mild cold’.
He insisted this even when he was told by a professional Doctor that he had the flu. Ryan knew for a fact that Dallon was just getting sicker.
“I don’t need it.” He frowns, pulling his blankets up higher on him, covering all of him from the nose down, all that Ryan could see were his dull, blue eyes that were almost grey at the moment and his sweat-drenched brown hair. It was obvious that he was trembling like mad
“Will you listen to me? Just once.” Ryan huffs as his eyes drift to the window where snow was whipping heavily in the wind. The first snow in this part of California in well over a decade and it’s a violent storm.
“Uh-Uh.” Dallon shakes his head like a child.
“What are you? Five?” Ryan rolls his eyes in reply to Dallon’s antics.
“No. I’m an adult that makes their own decisions.” He starts to cough, holding his blanket tighter to him as he did so.
Ryan waits for Dallon’s outburst to calm before he pipes up again, “If you just take your medicine then you can choose what movie we watch and what we have for dinner… That is if the snow ever stops.” He nods towards the window.
“Will you make me soup if I take the medicine?” Asks the man, his nose stuffed, causing the blue-locks to laugh at the sound of his voice.
“Of course. What are roommates for?”
“Friends.” Corrects Dallon, giving a weak smile to the boy on the couch.
“Friends.” Says Ryan in reply, almost accidentally saying ‘lovers.’
|||
After getting Dallon to take his medicine, he was escorted up to his room to rest. He had nearly blacked out on Ryan, who was so not letting him play off ‘it’s just a cold’ anymore.
“Ry…” Whines Dallon as he was dragged up the stairs to his bedroom by the shorter male, “I want to watch a movie.” He pesters but Ryan isn’t taking any of his shit.
“Listen, Dallon, you are sick, you almost collapsed. I am not giving in to you whining anymore. Once your fever drops and the pills kick in, you can come back down and watch movies and eat soup.” Scolds the caretaker, “Or, if you lay down, I’ll make you soup right now and come sit with you.”
“I like the second one.” Dallon mumbles as they reach the bedroom door. Ryan pushes it open and gets the older settled in bed.
Dallon whines about the pills not working and Ryan argues back that it doesn’t work immediately. The pair go back and forth for a long while, Dallon mostly just doing it so Ryan wouldn’t leave. He just wanted to be around him right now.
“Dallon, do you want soup or not?” Ryan finally huffs out.
“Yeah.” Nods the sick. His eyes were falling as the medicine was seeming to finally be setting in.
“Okay, well, you just close your eyes and I’ll be back with it before you know it.” Ryan pats Dallon’s damp hair and smiles up at the healthy one.
“Thank you.” Dallon tips to lay on the bed and his eyes flutter closed. The blue-haired boy pulls the blankets up around the other more to help calm his shivering.
Ryan heads down to their kitchen and makes some soup, trying his best to make it simple enough that it wouldn’t make Dallon throw up but also trying to make it good.
It definitely takes a lot longer than expected. Cooking was never his strong suit but he usually made whatever he managed to throw together, taste pretty damn amazing.
Ryan carries a bowl of the soup upstairs to Dallon’s room, gently pushing the door open to find him still fast asleep after about an hour and a half.
“Dal, hey.” Ryan coos lightly, “Wake up, I got you some soup.” He places the bowl on the bedside table and gingerly shakes Dallon’s shoulder, “Hey, Dal.” He mumbles as the boy starts to stir beneath his hand.
“Ry.” Yawns Dallon as he looks up into Ryan’s brown eyes.
“Hey, how you feeling?” Ryan brushes a hand to Dallon’s forehead. Still warm.
“Amazing.” He sits and sways absentmindedly.
“I got your soup.” Ryan tells him and he beams.
“You made me soup.” He slurs, out of his mind from the heavy medication he was taking. His doctor had given him some intense painkillers for a bruise on his spine along with the flu pills and Ryan had given him both.
“I did.” Confirms the male as he props Dallon up a bit more with some pillows.
Dallon giggles as he grabs onto Ryan’s strong biceps, thick with muscle from years of drumming. Dallon’s lanky fingers squeeze at his friend’s skin, “Ryan…” He coos, almost singing the younger’s name.
“Yes.” Ryan half-sings back.
“You’re so big and strong.” He slurs in reply, “And you are so pretty.” Dallon pats his cheek. He feels himself swoon. It was already hard enough to stop his feelings towards his roommate within him.
“Thanks, Dal.” Ryan gives him a skeptical glance before moving to set up Dallon’s soup.
“Hey, Ryan.” His voice is sing-song-y again.
“Mmhm.” Hums the other.
“I want to kiss your mouth and squeeze your ass.” Dallon grabs at the bottom of Ryan’s t-shirt.
Ryan chokes on his own saliva, coughing as his face burned, “You-… You what!?” He gasps as he struggled to compose himself.
“I want to kiss you.” He talks slower, “And squeeze your ass, Ry.” He giggles and covers his mouth to hide his little grin.
“Okay, you are really out of it.” Ryan’s face was bright red, almost glowing as he tried to convince himself that this was just him being delusional from the pills and also trying to distract himself from agreeing to any of it.
“No! Ryan, I really do!” He whines and grabs Ryan by the waist, taking him by surprise as he pulled the other to the bed, “I want to kiss your lips because they look really, really soft and your ass is so nice.” Rambles the ill boy, “And I like you a whole lot.” He gushes as he attempts to lips to the other boy’s.
Ryan scrambles to his feet, panting as his heard pounds from the near contact of their mouths and Dallon catches him off guard, pulling at his shirt. He stumbles and they fumble around each other on the bed for a moment before Ryan slams his cheek off of Dallon’s fancy bed frame, tripping back andd attempting to catch himself on the table, only for his hand to go into the scalding soup before he hit the floor.
He groans and Dallon looks about the room as if nothing had just happened, “Ryan! Can you bring me more blankets!” He falls back to the bed and is out cold.
|||
Dallon shuffles down the stairs the next morning and finds Ryan passed out on the couch, snoring like mad.
“Hey! Quiet down, the neighbors can fucking hear you!” Dallon groans as he hits the younger with a pillow, startling him awake.
“How rude can you be!? Wake me up a little fucking harsher next time, dickstain!” Ryan calls back and then shivers as he remembers all of the things Dallon had told him the day before and his heartbeat rings in his ears.
“Shut it.” Dallon’s voice is muffled from behind the kitchen’s swinging door.
Ryan stands and makes his way to where Dallon was, “Hey.” He starts as he pushes the door open, “Do you remember anything that happened yesterday?”
“You made me take medicine, I know that.” Dallon glances back at his roommate, “Holy hell, you look awful, what happened to your face? And your hand?” He points out the massive bruise on my cheek that covers my eye and the bandage on my hand.
“Yesterday you-…” He stops, should he say anything at all? It was probably just nothing! He has no need to tell him, “You told me you wanted to kiss me and touch my ass.” He blurts and covers his mouth for a second, “Then you pulled me onto the bed and tried to kiss me and then when I tried to get off I hit my face on your bed frame and burnt my hand in your soup!” His hand flies to his mouth as his face is aflame.
“I-…” The taller shakes his head, “You’re saying that-… That I did all of that…?” His eyes wide.
Ryan nods, unable to say anything as it heart pounds in his ears.
“Well, I’m really sorry, Ryan. I am so sorry.” His face falls and Ryan seems to overflow.
“No! I really wanted to but like, I thought that you were just, um, high off the pills and that none of it was real and all, but like, I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you or with you grabbing my ass or holding my hand and playing with my hair, I really, really, would like that stuff a whole lot but now I feel stupid because you’re staring at me as though I’ve lost my mind but you can-”
Dallon kisses him.
He runs one hand into the drummers hair and pulls him close with the other. Ryan is shocked and doesn’t move at first, his eyes are wide. Dallon makes him melt when he grasps onto the bottom of his shirt desperately and Ryan gives in. He kisses him back and pulls his arms up around Dallon’s neck.
And then Dallon sneezes and Ryan pulls back, the taller laughs with a smirk on his face.
“Please, shut up, you’re bringing my headache back.”
“You sneezed in my mouth, Dallon. You deserve it.”
“Oh, for fucksakes!” Shouts a frustrated Peter from his bed. Andy glances back at his annoyed roommate from the opposite end of the room as he sat, feet firmly pushed against the edge of his desk’s rolling chair, perched almost like a bird on a nest.
A curious Andy spins the chair around with his ink-drenched arm, so he could look at the man who so deeply despised him, “Why are you yelling?” The ginger asks the boy with the fax-black hair.
Pete tosses himself back with a loud ‘Agh!’ In response to Andy. His shirt risen to show off the tattoo on the bottom of his belly. The brown-eyed boy pulls a pillow over his head and yells into it.
“You yelled again and I still don’t have an answer.” Andy points. He thoroughly enjoys pissing his roommate off.
“Shut it, plant-eater.” Pete growls in reply, to which, Andy laughs.
“Why so snappy, Wentz?” Andy grins in amusement at the man’s angry expression.
“I can’t fucking learn Spanish.” Hisses the bass-player.
“I know it pretty well. I can help you know.” Andy offers mockingly.
“Fuck you, I’d rather fail.” Spat Pete with distaste. The vegan stands and moves to be seated on the end of his roommates bed.
“Eres muy lindo para un gilipollas.” Speaks Andy with a large smirk on his face, “Me encantaría llevarte a una cita en algún momento.”
“What?” Pete snaps, angry at Andy for being such a prick.
“If you finish your homework I’ll tell you.” Bribes the burly man, “I’ll even help you.”
“Why?” Pete huffs and finally sits up.
“I’m just trying to help you not fail out.”
Pete relents and grabs the page. It’s all simple things for Andy, as he took Spanish in high school while Pete took German. Now, in college, all they had was French or Spanish and Pete didn’t like that one bit.
“For fucksakes!” Yells Pete after another hour, this time with the help of Andy.
“You really are hot headed.” Grumbles Andy, “Calm down a little and this will be easier.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Mutters Pete.
“Listen. It’s not that hard if you just calm the fuck down and listen a little bit please.” Andy touches Pete’s smooth arm and Pete gets red at the contact before jerking away.
“Don’t touch me! Let’s just get this over with…” He grumbles and turns back to the paper. There wasn’t much of anything left.
Pete focuses on the paper for the first time that night and manages to finish it.
“Look at that! You did it.” Andy teases, “Wasn’t so hard now was it?”
“Kiss my ass, Andy.” He snaps out a reply to his obnoxious roommate.
“I’d rather kiss your mouth.” Andy replied bluntly.
“I-…” Pete makes a face and shakes his head, “What was that Spanish shit you were saying before?”
“Oh, I said, you’re very cute for an asshole, I would love to take you on a date sometime.” Andy speaks as if it were nothing and Pete chokes on his own saliva.
“You were serious!?” Yells Pete.
“Yeah. You’re hot and give me attitude and I like it.” Says Andy coolly, “So, wanna go on a date?”
“Wasn’t that Spanish lesson kinda like a date though, right?” Pete suddenly asks.
“I always kiss on the first date so, I don’t think so.”
And then, Pete kissed him.
“There, first date complete.”
“For fucksakes, Pete.” Andy shakes his head, “That was my job.”
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"I can't do this anymore" for any ship you want to write about
“I can’t do this anymore.” - Trohley
Big, wavering tears, hot and heavy spilled down his cheeks as he looked at the man he loved so deeply, “I can’t do this anymore, Joe.” His voice is begging horribly to be held.
Joe doesn’t move as he looks at the big burly man before him as he is breaking down, melting into an ocean that has so obviously been held back by the floodgates that were his blue eyes for years. The tears flow in large pools down the man’s pink, half shown cheeks, getting caught in his grey-tinted beard, trapped like his feelings.
“What do you mean?” Joe says, baffled by what he was witnessing. What had he done? All he wanted to know was whether Andy wanted to come along with him to a party? Joe was clueless, staring back at his cracking friend, his honey eyes squinted with worry. He could tell that Andy was stitched like an old doll and finally those threads were falling apart all at once, bursting for him to see, “Andy, did I do something? Are you okay?” Now Joe’s voice wavers. Did something happen? Was he being insensitive? He knew that he wasn’t the best for being compassionate towards others and their feelings.
“No.” He sniffs and runs his jacket sleeve under his nose, hoping to hide the fact that he was crying, “No, I’m not okay, Joe. Thanks for finally noticing.” Andy coughs, “And, yes, Joe, you did do something.”
Joe is shocked by how calm his words seemed while his body was shaking and melting down right before him. Andy was an old piece of China, it had been glued together piece by piece, year by year and it was finally smashed.
“Andy… I’m sorry… What did I do? Can I fix it?” Joe panics. Who wouldn’t when their rock, their glue, was letting go, when it was crumbling before them.
“You were born.” He doesn’t sound angry, nor spiteful, he sounds broken down and desperate.
“I-…” Joe is at a loss for words, “What do you mean?”
“Joe, I don’t know how one person can be so blind!” Andy cries out in a desperate attempt to not have to say the words aloud and yet gets more blank stares back.
Andy is glass in that moment. He’s glass falling from a table and Joe is the hand to catch him and nobody knows if Joe will move fast enough to stop the crash.
“Joe… You are a pain in the fucking ass, you drink till you can’t stand and become the bathroom mat. I’m the one who has to make sure you stay clean and don’t get ruined when you get that bad. You will do any drug your eyes land on, take anything handed to you until you’re foaming at the mouth and I’m running you through hospital doors and screaming for somebody, for anybody to get you to fucking breathe again.” Andy’s eyes never leave Joe’s, all the while, he’s hysterical, “You have sex with the girls that just so happen to take a fancy to your hazy state. You fight anybody you can get your hands on. You leave me in the fucking dirt everytime and make me keep you from fucking up so bad you can never go back and I can’t fucking do that anymore! I can’t do this anymore, Joe.”
Andy can’t speak by the time he’s done. His voice is tired and begging Joe to do something other than just stand and stare.
Right now, Andy was just seafoam, disappearing more by the second, right before his best friend’s eyes.
“…I-…” Joe shakes his head, he can’t process this. Andy doesn’t want him anymore, “You’re abandoning me?” His voice shivers and he begs himself to be strong.
“No, you idiot.” Andy strains and the tears that pour down his face burn his skin, leaving trails of where they have traveled.
“You just said you can’t do this anymore, Andy…” Joe can’t fathom the events that were unfolding before him. He was sober and couldn’t so much as get the slightest hint of what his friend was trying to say to him.
“I’m in love with you and I can’t watch you kill yourself anymore, Joe. I love you so much and you can’t see it. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t worry anymore.” Andy bursts after years of swallowing his words, “I can’t let you die.” His voice is crumbling, falling to a whisper as his big hands wrap around Joe’s forearms, holding his friend’s inked skin that always felt so cold compared to him.
“Andy.” Joe doesn’t believe the words that his friend just uttered, “Please… Say it again.” Even Joe’s voice is a whisper now as his warm breath washes over Andy and makes him shiver. They were so close.
“I’m in love with you, Joe.” He can barely even hear himself but Joe hears him loud and clear and kisses the pink lips that were surrounded by a thick, scruffy, wave of hair. It scratches Joe’s face but he doesn’t care. His hands find Andy’s damp cheeks and he holds his friend’s face between his calloused fingers and sweaty palms.
Andy moves to hold Joe’s biceps and his fingers press hard into his best friend’s art-drenched skin. He tips his head back, his lips just millimeters from Joe’s, “All I’ve ever wanted was to hear you say you loved me too.” His eyes stay closed and the bridges of the pair’s noses are firmly pressed together, their lips brush as Andy speaks.
“I love you, Andy. I love you so much. Thank you.”
And their lips meet again.
Andy doesn’t want to let go of Joe and Joe will never let him.
× - ×
This was sooooo much longer than expected but I hope you like a little bit of Trohley because I never get to write any of them!!! I also hope you liked it, I tried not to make it the cliche, “I don’t wanna date you anymore.” Thing. I hope I didn’t dissapoint!!!
Keep sending in prompts for me, I’m bored and always prepared to write a little something!!
Also, the favorites:
1) DID I SAY YOU COULD HURT ME LIKE THIS?!?;?!;
2) DONT HURT MY BABY WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS
3) why must you hurt me this way
4) WHY IS THIS A CLIFFHANGER?! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT I NEED TO KNOW
5) This made me cry/squeal/giggle/wake the dead with my laughter
6) I almost woke my family laughing at ___ part
7) I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS AU UNTIL YOU POSTED THIS
8) this is so cute I’m dying
9) and (writer’s name) strikes again!
10) I had to reread this bc it’s so good and I love it
11) I wish I could like/heart/kudos this more than once
Like, seriously guys, freak out with us and you’ll have us wrapped around your little fingers.
okay this is probably not complete but I Finally decided to make a masterpost of peterick songs (and also explanations as to why they’re peterick songs) so… enjoy
-Saturday: The original. Oddly enough written by Patrick, but still there’s no denying it. See “Me and Pete, in the wake of Saturday” (like who doesn’t cry at that line)
-Of All The Gin Joints In The World: This song is gay and adorable as fuck. See “I’ve got headaches and bad luck, but they couldn’t touch you, no” and “I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive, now I only waste it dreaming of you”
-Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner: Perhaps not specifically a Peterick song, but still undeniably gay. See “Nothing cums as easy as you”.
-I’ve Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song): Okay stay with me here I swear this song is on this list for a reason. While it’s not exactly a Peterick song per se, “I’m hopelessly hopeful, you’re just hopeless enough, but we never seemed so far” is definitely about Patrick and it’s also sad as hell (this song is so sad but I love it so much)
-Thriller: The line “Long live the car crash hearts” is probably referencing the Fall Out Boy van crash of 2004, after which Pete and Patrick supposedly kissed based on the video taken to document it. If you believe the conspiracy theory, about halfway through the vid Patrick has a bloodstain on his face that wasn’t there before and would directly line up with the band-aid on Pete’s face had they kissed off-camera at some point over the course of the video’s filming.
-I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me And You): This song is pretty open for interpretation as to who it’s about, but the lyrics in the bridge “The best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize two out of three aint bad” may or may not be referring to Pete’s various suicide attempts, and is a message to Patrick essentially saying that if Pete does wind up taking his own life, Patrick shouldn’t follow him but instead be grateful that he was able to save Pete twice (Yeah I never said this wouldn’t be sad okay).
-Thnks Fr Th Mmrs: See literally the entire song. This song is essentially Pete saying “Screw you, I’m gay for my best friend. Because he tastes like you only sweeter if ya know what I mean”.
G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: Other than literally being called gay is not a synonym for shitty, the line “You saved my life that night on the roof of your hotel” could only be about Patrick.
-The (Shipped) Gold Standard: See “I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs, but I’m afraid that someone else will hear me”.
-What A Catch, Donnie: Pete literally wrote this to Patrick as a promise not to commit suicide. He also says the song reminds him of Patrick, and the seagull in the music video could represent him being saved by Patrick (and I know he sinks on the boat in the original version but We Can Pretend Okay)
-Alone Together: “I don’t know where you’re goin’, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?” is literally the post-hiatus version of “I’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you, no” and it’s adorable and depressing and just… yeah
-Miss Missing You: See “Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger: the person that you’d take a bullet for us behind the trigger”
-The Kids Aren’t Alright: Once again, see literally the entire song. It’s either the sweetest best friend song ever written or it’s a just mess of crying and gay and ether way it’s beautiful
-Favorite Record: See “And when you asked me how I’m doing like you know how much better off I am”. I feel like that line speaks for itself.
-The Last Of The Real Ones: “I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you but not as much as I do” and also Pete talking at shows about how the song is about someone whose glitches line up exactly with his it’s just adorable
-HOLD ME TIGHT OR DONT: Okay this song makes me cry because it’s literally about Pete being upset that he can’t be with Patrick anymore and thinking that Patrick never really loved him and they were never even friends and it’s just too sad I can’t
-Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): See “I know it’s just a number but you’re my eighth wonder” and “I miss the days when I pretended with you”.
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Pete was watching Patrick. As usual. He was obsessed and he couldn’t deny it.
“Pete! Hey, Pete! Earth to Pete Wentz,” Joe laughed, snapping his fingers in front of Pete’s face. “Stop perving on Patrick and listen to me, dude. Did you hear anything I said?”
“No,” Pete replied, embarrassed.
“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to tell you this before you get it through your head, but Patrick is straight,” Joe lectured. “I’m sorry. You’ve gotta find another guy, okay?”
no but imagine person A is the singer in their band and person B the bassist or whatever and “omg you really have to stop making funny faces at me/giving me that look or else i won’t be able to stop laughing/start singing”
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So I work at a video game store in a mall and across the hall from us is this really nice suit shop. One day one of the guys came in an asked if they could use our microwave (the store they used to go to closed down) and we bargined for use of their bathroom in return since the mall bathrooms are like a 5 min trek.
So for like three months now we just have these men in really nice suits come in and talk while using our microwave and teach them about nerdy shit? Then I, the goblin king in various shitty tee shirts and paint stained pants, walk into their super expensive store and just get greeted with “Yo dude what’s good?” and talk about the pains of steaming silken dress shirts properly and it’s my favorite business interaction every day
A new jewelry store opened up right next to our store and when I used the bathroom today we were talking about it. I hate it on principle (they flooded our systems closet during building) and immediately both Suit Guys™ working went on mini rants. “Their suits are baggy as hell, I wouldn’t trust them to sell me a $9,000 ring when they can’t get a fitted jacket. They look so unprofessional, ” and “I saw one of the dude’s wearing a teal shirt. It’s fall, and you go with teal? At least get a color to match your store if you’re gonna ignore the seasons like that, Christ, but teal is awful.”
