❝ - and no one throws out the line. ❞

ᕑɢᴏᴏᴅ ɴᴇᴡsᓫ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡs :

ᕑɢᴏᴏᴅ ɴᴇᴡsᓫ is that I will be posting a new starter call soon !

ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡs is that I may be dropping some threads to make room for some new ones, to try and start fresh again.

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ I won’t want to keep threads between partners !

There are some threads I would love to keep going with , and I’m not adverse to keeping any others we may have !

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴇ if you have any threads in mind that you’d like to keep !

but I have been distracted by irl & other blogs I've made in my absence --- ( @fieldoc ; @samcmind ; @arackid ; @lapineart are a few I've been in / out of ) ---

@sailorbama​ 

Bill had thought he was entirely alone– otherwise, he would have never let his guard down. He sat on the ground, so far into the woods in Derry that there were the signs of the logging company that had taken over near the Kenduskeag. He had curled himself into a ball, made himself small because in that moment, he didn’t want to be Big Bill. He didn’t really want to be anyone. 

His arms were wrapped around his skinned, bruised knees and his head was tucked into the space between his knees and his shaking torso. It was cold out, snow on the ground– it was January in Derry, after all– but he didn’t really feel it, despite the goosebumps covering his exposed skin.

He was crying quietly, soft sobs occasionally wracking his thin frame. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was crying about, because there was too much he could be crying about. It was all too much. He would have sat out there until his lips turned blue, but a voice spoke up.

Bill snapped his head around to see the boy standing across the way. How long had he been standing there? Bill didn’t recognize him; maybe that meant that Ben wasn’t the new kid anymore. Bill hastily swiped at his over-bright blue eyes, though the tear-tracks were still fresh on his cheeks. He knew the kid had seen him crying, knew it… But he didn’t want to show any more weakness. 

ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʰᶦˢ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ, ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵘˢʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᶠᶦⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ⁻ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᶦᵐᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃᵗ, ᶜᵒᵃᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍˡᵒᵛᵉˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʷᵒ, ᵒʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᶦⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᶦᵗ. ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘˢᶦⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ, ˢᵒ ʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶦᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᵈ, ʳᵉᵍᵃʳᵈˡᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᶦᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶦˢ ʲᵒᵇ ⁻ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ, ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ᴬⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᶦᵈˢ ᵃᵗ ʰᶦˢ ᵒˡᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ( ʷʰᵒ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒʰ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ) ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃˡ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶦᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ᵒⁿ ᶦᵗ ᵉᶦᵗʰᵉʳ.

ᴵᵗ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ⁻ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ⁻ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᶦᶠ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶦᵐ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ? ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵒʸ ʰᶦˢ ᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵘʳᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦˢ ʷᵃˡᵏ ⁻ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵗᶦⁿᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶜˡᵘˢᶦᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦˢ ᶠᶦᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴺᵉʷ ʸᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ. ᴹᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᶦⁿᵍ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ⁿᵉʷ ʷᵉʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. ᴼʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍˢ, ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ. ˢᵉᵉᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ, ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᶦᵐ. ᵁˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᶦˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ…

ᴶᵃᵏᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ, ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳᶦˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᶦˢ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ⁻ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ, ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ( ᵇʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ’ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵗᶦᶜᶦᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶦᵗ, ʷᶦᵗʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ˡᶦᵛᵉᵈ ) ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᵈᵉᶠᵉⁿˢᶦᵛᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᶦᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ. ᴵᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᶦᵐ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉ ʰᶦˢ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵈ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵈ ˢᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ⁻ ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶦⁿ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵒ, ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦˢ ᵇˡᵒⁿᵈ ˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ᶜʳʸˢᵗᵃˡˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵉˢᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ ᶦⁿ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᶦʳ.

❝ i’m someone who doesn’t know you. we have’t spoken before now, but… i don’t know what happened, and i’m not going to say you have to tell me. ❞ ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᶦⁿᵘᶦⁿᵍ. ❝ but if there is anything i can do, i’m here. i won’t ask for a favor in return, or pull you in trouble later… just let me know what i can do, and i’ll help how i can. ❞

❝ it might sound corny, but right now you don’t have to be alone. even if i help now and never see you again, i just… ❞ 

ᴱʸᵉˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃˢᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿʷᵃʳᵈ, ʳᵉᵃˡᶦᶻᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ᵗᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᶦᵈ’ˢ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿ. ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵈ,  ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ? ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ, ˢᵗʳᶦᵖᵖᶦⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃʳᵐᵗʰ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵍᶦᵛᵉⁿ, ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃᵗ ⁻ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ. ᴰᵉˢᵖᶦᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃˡᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ʰᶦᵍʰ ᑫᵘᵃˡᶦᵗʸ ⁻ ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ᵖᵃᶦᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ˢᵉᵗ. ᴴᵉ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍʳᶦᵉᶠ ( ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶦᵗ ) ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵏᶦᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉ ᶦᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᶦᵐ. ᵀʰᵃᵗ ˢᵃᶦᵈ, ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ˢᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ʷᵃˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ. 

“Go? Why would you have to go? Jake, you are legally my son now, you know this. We went to the…” He snapped his fingers a few times trying to find the name. “court together, you testified that you wanted to be with me due to all we have been through. All this being said, why would you have to leave?”

Roland fell quiet for a moment before brushing away a few tears and continuing. “Not to mention, I wouldn’t even want you to go anywhere, you are my baby after all.”

The gunslinger let silence fall once again before going on to speak. “However I cannot let you just hide away and ignore it… That is impolite. Despite the fact that we are no longer in All-World, you know you are the child of the Lord of Gilead, as such you are a lord as well, you must behave as one. However, we will go down together, I will not let them take you and I will not allow you to leave this life you worked so hard to have. Although why you would think that would happen, I’m not quite sure of.”

ᴶᵃᵏᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒ ᵗᵒ ʰᶦˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ⁻ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶦⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᵗᵉᶜʰⁿᶦᶜᵃˡᶦᵗʸ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᶠʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶦⁿᶦⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ. ᵀʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉᵈ ʰᶦᵐ, ᵃˢ ᶦᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᶦʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ.  ‘... you are my baby, after all...’ ᴿᵒˡᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᶠᵃʳ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᶦᵛᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴱˡᵐᵉʳ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦᵐ ᶦᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉⁿʸ ʰᶦᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁻ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁻ ᵖᵃᶦⁿˡᵉˢˢ. ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰᶦᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵃ ʷᵉᶦᵍʰᵗ ˡᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ⁻ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᶦˢ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᵈᶦᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ.

❝ do i ha-ave to n-now..? w-what i-if they g-get-? ❞ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ. ᴿᵒˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ. ᴴᵉ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ, ᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᶦᵖˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᶦᵐᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ. ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᶦᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᴿᵒˡᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʳᵒˢˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷʰᶦˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᶦᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᶦᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵒ.

ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᶦᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠᶦⁿᵈ ʰᶦᵐ? ᴼʰ ᵍᵒᵈ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ˢᵉʳᶦᵒᵘˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ... ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᶦᶠ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵛᵒᶦᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ? ˢᵘʳᵉˡʸ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ( ᵒˡᵈ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘᵈᵉᵈ ) ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᶦᵉʳ ᶦᶠ ʰᵉ ʳᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ? ᴼʳ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᶦᵗ ᵇᵘᶦˡᵈ ʷᵃˡˡˢ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᶠᵃᵐᶦˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᶠᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴶᵃᵏᵉ'ˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ˢᶦˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ, ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᶦⁿᶦˢʰᵉᵈ.

me @ me: buT are u SURE ur mutuals