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~your local angst-y Christian girl~


soli Deo gloria!

Message to Readers

Originally published 10.28.20

If you’re new to this series, welcome! This is Stereo Tropes Co, a series where story tropes run amuck in an office setting with some wacky people :) Search it up and follow the numbers to read it in order!

Thank you so so much for all the love you guys have shown for this series, I never could’ve imagined how much other people would enjoy reading my nonsense XD Y’all are my heavenly sunshine liquid ;)

The Tropies!:
Stone of Jade
anemia & lattes
Anne Blackwood

Discussing Methods of Villainy (and Other Totally Normal Business Meeting Things)| Stereo Tropes Co. (11)

November 16, 2020



    When Prose stepped into the room, Thinker's day got a million times better. 
    That is, until he realized her entrance's fatal flaw.
    "Prosie! You forgot my pineapple juice!"
    Her left eye twitched which prompted Thinker to notice the bags under her eyelids, how her usually deep brown skin was an abnormal paler color, and how her hair was redefining what it meant to be a "messy bun".
    "If you couldn't tell, Thinker," she clenched her teeth into a smile. "I'm a bit occupied with figuring out how to function like a normal human being at the moment."
    She took something out and plopped it onto the table, opening it like a laptop.
    Thinker raised an eyebrow. "Prose, that's a Tinker Bell binder."
    Prose tilted her head downwards and stared at it. "What is wrong with me today?"
    "Hey bitter-brain, do you think after the meeting, you could drop by the lounge and grab me some pineapple--"
    Prose banged her fist on the table, which sent Thinker's pencil flying, and shot a lethal glare straight into his eyes. "I swear, Thinker, if you mention pineapples one more time I will shove freshly-squeezed oranges down your throat."
    Ah. So she was in one of her violent moods as well.
    Just to be on the safe side, Thinker scooted a bit away from her. 
    Print, positioned directly across from Thinker, let out a heavy sigh. "Wow, Thinker, already with the pineapple juice comments? It's not even 9 AM."
    "What?" Thinker shifted in his swivel chair (which was not nearly as perfect as his custom-made one in his personal office, since the ratio of padding to height was all wrong). "It's my thing."
    "Your thing?" Print shook his head and tapped some keys on his laptop. "You need a new thing."
    "What's so wrong with being the pineapple-juice-guy?! You're one to talk Mr. I-Wear-Plaid-All-the-Time."
    "At least I look good," Print smirked as he sipped his cold brew and Thinker threw a paper clip at him. 
    Critique, sitting to Print's left, raised her head. "Wait, Thinker needs a new thing?"
    Print nodded. "Something that's anything but his pineapple-juice thing."
    "I'll see if they have anything on sale," Critique gave a thumbs up. 
    Thinker puffed out his cheeks in frustration. "Prose, do you think I need a new thing?" 
    The meeting room fell silent as the three awaited her crucial judgment. 
    She blinked. "I think the real question is: 'What is wrong with you all today?'"
    "It's our thing," Critique grinned, smoothing her frizzy, kinky hair. 
    "A good thing," Thinker smiled. 
    Prose ran her hands down her face. "I swear I'm the only normal person here." 
    "Nothing wrong with being a little kooky, bitter-brain," Thinker rolled his chair closer to hers, but she gave no response. 
    In fact, if Thinker's empath superpowers weren't wrong (and, needless to say, he was never wrong) one could say Prose was feeling...animosity towards him.
    His heart stung. 
    But before he could act on this peculiar cardiac pain, the door swung open. 
    Accompanied by 80s pop music playing through the boombox she carried in her hands, and high ponytail swinging, their office manager sashayed to the head of the table, dropping a plastic storage box onto its surface. 
    "Speaking of kookiness..." Prose muttered. 
    "Good morning friends!" Novel (pronounced Noe-VEL, as she reminded everyone on a 24/7 basis) clapped her hands once. "Hope you're all doing well today! Well, actually, I know you're all doing well today because I'm just amazing like that. Prose, I believe this is our first business meeting together, how did that doctor's appointment go yesterday? Your cholesterol doing okay? Better watch that carb intake."
    Prose blanched. "Um, isn't that, like, confidential information?!"
    "Don't question it," Thinker whispered. 
    "I know everything, dear," Novel gushed. "After all, I'm your boss and I care for my underlings--I mean, esteemed employees. Print, that was some lovely opera singing in the bathroom the other day."
    Print spat out his coffee. "ExCUSE me how do you--" he cut himself off and slouched back into his seat. "You know, I'd be more surprised if you didn't know that."
    Her cheery disposition never faltering, Novel opened up her own laptop. "I like to run things a bit differently--"
    "Of course you do," Prose mumbled.
    "--and I like to focus on strict order and tradition, so keep that in mind," she winked. Pulling her ponytail tighter, she smoothed her blazer, before whipping out a gavel from her podium. "I will once again be enforcing parliamentary procedure for this meeting--"
    "I make a motion to abolish parliamentary procedure," Thinker immediately raised his hand.
    "I second," Print held up his cold brew.
    "All in favor say 'aye'?" Critique called out. 
    Everyone shouted their affirmations, except Novel, who went with a vehement "NAY!" and Prose who decided to abstain courteously by uttering "I...have no idea what's going on."
    Seeing they won the vote (which they always did), Thinker fist-pumped. "Majority rules!"
    "Darn you democracy," Novel grumbled as she tucked away her gavel for another day. "I don't understand how you guys don't see the fun in emulating British governmental conduct."
    "We just were," Critique grinned, pushing up her cat-eye glasses. "Very practical in getting rid of itself."
    Novel grumbled something under her breath, which sounded like "this is what you get for going to dance school". Quickly regaining her usual commanding air however, she clapped her hands again. "Shall we begin with our status reports? Critique, you're first."
    Critique pondered it for a moment. "...alive."
    "Wonderful to hear!" Novel said and Thinker nodded in agreement. Always nice to know none of his coworkers were zombies or anything. 
    "Status: still alive but I'm barely breathing," Print reported. 
    "Status: potato," Thinker leaned back and rested his feet on the table. 
    They all turned to Prose. 
    "Uh..." she said. "...I'm...dreaming, aren't I?"
    Novel clapped again. "Right! Well, our client for today should be arriving any minute now--"
    Something exploded behind Thinker. Probably the wall. He didn't even flinch as dust and small debris floated around him; he just hoped it wouldn't damage his hair's fluff-capacity.
    Novel folded her arms. "Mr. Wist, I thought I outlined specifically in my email that you were to use the door."
    "Oh. I never read my emails that closely anyway," Plott Wist stepped through the gaping hole full of splintered beams, adjusted his suit, and made his way to the opposite end of the table, where he sat down.
    "Are you ready?" Novel asked. 
    "Just a second," Plott turned his seat so that his back was facing them, then slowly spun himself around, stroking a black cat (probably stole it from the local witch), his figure only a silhouette. "Ah. So I see you've found my villainous lair."
    "Mr. Wist, this is the sixth floor of Stereo Tropes Co." 
    "Oh. That explains the lack of mafia bodyguards," Plott said. 
    "Hey Plott, have you been drinking from that Bottle of Dramatic Backlighting?" Thinker pointed his pencil at him. "It looks really good on you!"
    "Doesn't it?" he said, but the effects started to flicker out and soon, Plott's image was back to normal. The cat shimmied out of his grasp and scurried out the hole in the wall.
    "You can't be serious," Prose put up her hands. "Plott Wist is our CLIENT?! He--he tried to blow up this building! He tied Thinker and I up in the basement!"
    "Well, we all have our little quirks, don't we?" Novel chuckled. 
    Plott made a face. "Well sor-ry we can't all be as perfect as you. Do you want to get paid, or not?"
    "Thinker! Print! Crit! Can't you see this is insane?!" Prose slammed her hands on the table. 
    The three looked at each other. 
    "It's Stereo Tropes Co.," Thinker finally answered. 
    Plott checked the watch on his wrist. "Could we make this snappy? I got a hostage situation scheduled for 10:30. My Intimidating Thugs were just delivered yesterday, and I'm excited to use them on some innocent strangers."
    "That's it, I'm calling the FBI," Prose said.
    "NO!" Plott dug something out of his own pocket; a red button. Red was never a good color when paired with buttons. "Do that and I press this."
    That got Prose's fingers to back away from the phone. "Okay okay--!"
    "TOO LATE!" Plott smashed his thumb into the device and Thinker waited as everyone screamed. 
    Thinker twirled his pencil in the air. 
    An adolescent male voice crackled through the speaker installed in the gadget. "Hi, this is McDonald's, what can I get started for you?" 
    Sputtering some incomprehensible sounds, Plott stared at the button like it had grown two legs and started doing the Macarena. Then it finally dawned on him. "Shoot, this is my Fast-Food-Speed-Dial button! Guess I grabbed the wrong one on my way out."
    "Would you like fries with that?" the worker on the other end said. "Haha, I've always wanted to say that--"
    Plott hung up.
    Thinker nodded solemnly. "I noticed this button was a more vermilion color rather than the usual scarlet red I'm accustomed to when pertaining to doomsday toggles."
    Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, with Novel commenting on how she was so glad they wouldn't have to refurbish the room again.
    "Moving on to more urgent matters," Novel tapped her fingernails on the table as Print cleaned up the coffee he'd spilled, Critique came out from hiding beneath the table, and Prose...worked hard on learning how to breathe properly again. "Mr. Wist, would you like to describe what you want from us?"
    "What I need, is a rebranding. I need the 'Next Big Thing' for villains. The only somewhat defining thing I have right now is my goatee," Plott stroked his chin. 
    "Well, as long as it's not a pineapple-juice-thing, you should be fine," Print said. 
    "How DARE you invoke blasphemy on the heavenly sunshine liquid," Thinker brandished another paper clip, but then noticed the silver metal was tinted blue at some points. He stored it for later to add to his collection of Office Supply Oddities. 
    "Have you gone on the market for an arch-nemesis?" Critique's eyes never left her computer screen. "Those can boost your popularity, give you a wider audience reach." 
    "I've tried going on some apps, and checking out some profiles, but no one seems to be interested in a lifelong relationship filled with loathing and strife," Plott sniffed away tears. "Will anybody ever be able to hate me?"
    "Don't worry, Mr. Wist, I'm sure there's someone out there for you," Novel rested her arm on her podium. 
    "So, you want to differ from the other scoundrels in the area?" Thinker asked, tapping a pencil on his legal pad. 
    Plott shook his head. "No, I don't feel like a villain, so I want to fit in with them. Right now I just feel...weird. Not normal."
    The mood shifted in the room.
    Thinker sniffed a Tragic Backstory in the air. They were probably testing a new formula in the labs; hopefully their next product didn't involve so many Dead Parents, he had gotten enough calls about the ethics of sending customers bodies stuffed in fridges and the like.
    Finally, Prose broke the silence. "I...can oddly relate. To that feeling."
    She stopped. 
    And seemed to swallow whatever words were in her mouth.
    Looked like that would be another story for another day. Hopefully one that Thinker could enjoy with a nice tall glass of pineapple juice. 
    His mouth watered at the thought.
    Focus, Thinker. 
    She sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this but...I'm ready to help, Plott."
    The rookie villain made a face. "Well, duh, I mean, you work here, isn't this your job?"
    "Just zip it and tell me what you want," Prose deadpanned and Thinker laughed to himself at her sudden change of heart. No matter how many times he surprised himself (like how he spontaneously wore a polka-dot tie today even though Tuesdays were striped-tie day, a true plot twist right there), Prose could pull a quick one on him as well. 
    "Okay, I was thinking something...spooky?" Plott grinned. 
    "May I suggest Thinker's face?" Print gestured to his coworker, to which Thinker folded his arms and huffed. 
    "No, we don't want to scare potential customers away," Critique said. 
    "Exactly--HEY! Is my face really that hideous?"
    "What matters is what's on the inside," Print smiled. 
    "You didn't answer the question," Thinker's fingers flew to his face and he patted his skin in search of any new blemishes. He'd been certain (after he had checked in his car's mirror fifteen times) that he had perfected his looks for today. No wonder Prose seemed upset; his horrid countenance had probably discombobulated her cerebral functions. 
    Novel hit the podium three times. "No going off-topic! Now, this is the exact reason why I brought this box." She took off said object's lid and slid it to the center of the table. "I thought some pre-existing Stereo Tropes Co. products could give us some inspiration."
    Prose gripped the edge of the table. "Yeah, no, those'll much sooner give us severe injuries before it gives us any help."
    "Have you had bad experiences with these before?"
    Prose barked a dry laugh. "That's an understatement." She shuddered. 
    "How bad can these be?" Critique reached in and pulled out a Make-Your-Own-Hovel kit. "Look! You can build your own Skull-Shaped Island! Piles of human bones included!"
    Plott frowned. "I'm really more of a homely-cottage type of guy."
    Print presented a model spaceship. "Maybe you could become a space pirate? Those are probably retro right now."
    The villain shook his head. "I get motion sickness."
    "Ooh! Maybe you could be one of those rick jerks!" Thinker held up a booklet whose cover boasted "GET RICH QUICK: PONZI SCHEMES FOR DUMMIES (TOTALLY NOT A PONZI SCHEME)".
    "Have you seen my bank account?"
    The suggestions kept on rolling but Plott seemed averse to all of them. 
    "Dark Lord?"
    "I'd get socially awkward around all my minions."
    "Perhaps a bank robber?"
    "Okay, I'm not that desperate for money."
    "MAYBE you could be a CULT LEADER!"
    This time Prose jutted in. "Thinker. No."
    "Have you considered hitting the streets and becoming a roguish thief?"
    "I was thinking more of a desk job."
    "Okay, two words: Evil. Clown."
    "Sorry, I'm allergic to face paint."
    Prose nearly fell out of her seat. "THINKER, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" 
    "Well obviously he wouldn't kill people," he made some vague hand gestures. "He'd just...squash some Cheerios or something."
    It took a while for Prose's mind to register that sentence. "That is literally the dumbest thing I've heard all day."
    Thinker beamed. "Only the best for my cherished coworkers."
    "It's all right if we don't come up with something today," Plott plucked lint off his suit. "You can work on it and I'll be back in a few weeks--"
    "No!" Novel put her hands on her hips. "I refuse to let a client leave this room without some sort of progress on their requested project and a complimentary online coupon code they can use for their next purchase that's over fifteen dollars. Critique, can you stop watching vlogs and send Mr. Wist--"
    "Already did."
    "Right. Well then! Time to bring out...the Inspiration Bucket!" 
    Bending down, she brought what looked like a tin pail into view. Since there was that signature red seal plastered onto the front however, this was no ordinary tin pail. 
    Novel tipped the Bucket over to release its contents. 
    Unfortunately, only a few Writers' Blocks tumbled onto the table. Print flicked one away with his fingers.
    Critique cringed at the sight. "Ew, those reek of Insecurity and Low Self-Esteem."
    "Darn it," Novel threw the Bucket over her shoulder. "We are officially out of ideas."
    "And due to the lack of heavenly sunshine liquid in my veins, I am officially out of brainpower to continue this meeting," Thinker agreed. 
    Critique gathered her things. "Nice talking with y'all."
    "Hold on!" Prose rocketed from her seat. "That's it?! You're just giving up?!"
    "The Inspiration Bucket never lies, sweetie," Novel shrugged, her belongings precariously piled in her arms.
    "Well maybe Plott doesn't have to be like the other villains! Maybe he can just be himself!" Prose said. Novel pushed a button on her boombox so that a stirring orchestral soundtrack streamed through the speakers. "Maybe it's okay to be weird, to be a little, um, kooky at times, to cast off this cloak of normalcy and don with pride a new tunic of the irregular, of the eccentric! I dare you to stand out, because that's what Stereo Tropes Co. is! We are, much to my dismay, not normal. And maybe...maybe..." the music died out, possibly due to a scratch on the CD. "...I don't know where I was going with that."
    She hiccuped a little burp. "Phew, that Motivational Speech Smoothie I drank earlier really started to kick in there."
    Thinker smiled. "You should listen to your own advice."
    Prose suddenly averted all her focus onto her Tinker Bell binder.
    "Yeah, well...shut up," she said and Thinker laughed. 
    "'Be myself,'" Plott mused to himself. "That can't be too hard. If I don't have a thing, I can just be...No Thing!"
    "You're nothing?" Print raised an eyebrow. 
    "Exactly! Because No Thing is better than nothing!"
    "I...don't think that logic follows," Critique frowned. 
    Plott stood up. "And for my first act of villainy--"
    "Ah ah ah," Novel raised her hand. "No acts of villainy in my meeting room. Take it outside."
    "Oh, of course, sorry," he gave a sheepish grin before tiptoeing out through the hole in the wall. Once he was in the hallway, he let out a maniacal cackle. "I will now proceed to kidnap all the water dispensers! Cower in fear employees of Stereo Tropes Co.!"
    The remaining five people stayed in the room, listening to the wreckage and confused screams. 
    Novel sighed, a content smile on her face. "A happy client always makes me happy. Well done my darlings."
    "I'm, uh, gonna make sure he doesn't trash my office," Prose got up and left, making sure to use the door and not the hole. 
    Thinker noticed her fairy-decorated binder still lying on the table and he picked it up. "Wait! Prosie! You forgot--! Never mind."
    He held it in his hands.
    Curiosity besting him, he peeked inside. She had scribbled his name in red ink with doodles of pineapples...and...hearts--
    He slammed it shut, that peculiar cardiac pain making a reentrance in his nervous system, but this time making his soul sprout wings and flutter in his chest. 
    "So Thinker," Critique started with a sly smile. "We've been noticing you've been acting weirdly lately..."
    Print's own lips twisted into a smirk. "And they say that's what happens when a person is a bit infatuated with someone..."
    Between the binder and the knowing looks his coworkers and boss were aiming towards his way, it appeared Thinker was trapped.
    He knew what he had to do.
    So he took a deep breath. 
    "SAVE THE WATER DISPENSERS!" he shouted and barged through the hole to hunt down Plott, running on an empty stomach devoid of pineapple juice, and running from confronting those oh-so confounding palpitations of his heart. 

I started this story 3 different ways, with 2 different POVs, and went through about 13 different title ideas before finally settling on this rendition. Inspiration Bucket was really running dry...oof

Did you know has a page where they made up a concept like this, and called it "Tropes Co"? 'Cause I just found that out a few days ago and I promise I didn't plagiarize it XD

Hope you enjoyed this 11th installment of Stereo Tropes Co.! Drop a comment below if you wanted to be notified whenever a new one comes out and join the Tropies, the unofficial name for What do you even call it XD
If you have a better name, please tell me 



See History
  • November 16, 2020 - 6:56pm (Now Viewing)

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  • The Ravenclaw Dragon

    These are hilarious! However, I couldn't find the fourth one. Could you send me a link to it? Thanks! Keep on writing!

    3 months ago
  • Rohan’s Defender (Hiatus)


    5 months ago
  • Elizabeth Lewis

    This is awesome and so funny! Please keep writing! Also thank you so much for the comment! Have a great day!

    6 months ago
  • Minvra

    *Reads a third and then sees writer's message*

    6 months ago
  • Mina_77

    Wow! I can’t believe I haven’t discovered this series early, it’s truly amazing! Can’t wait for the rest

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    Re: yay ^u^

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    Hey, I just got an idea for an episode (I feel like that's what these would be called?). Wise Janitor TM. Can also be Wise Old Man TM or Wise Black Guy TM. No problem if you don't feel inspired by these, but I had to tell you in case you wanna work your magic on it.

    6 months ago
  • anemoia (#words)

    AHHHHH I JUST REREAD IT AND ALMOST FELL OUT OF MY CHAIR LAUGHING! Well not exactly but close. close. THE SERIAL KILLER LINE GETS ME EVERY TIME! Also this one: "I've tried going on some apps, and checking out some profiles, but no one seems to be interested in a lifelong relationship filled with loathing and strife," Plott sniffed away tears. "Will anybody ever be able to hate me?"
    wow, this is the third comment i've left on this. XD

    6 months ago

    PLS NOTIFY ME - bc this is like my heavenly sunshine liquid XD

    6 months ago
  • journal.scribbles

    Re: Best of wishes to you too! <3

    6 months ago
  • journal.scribbles

    Sorry *buddies. Buddes kinda seems like the feminine form of buds or something. Like dudette, y'know?

    6 months ago
  • journal.scribbles

    Re: Thank you so much for filling out the form! All of your insights were super helpful. Lol I do have a NaNo account but I think we're already buddes. I'm these_scribbles. :D

    6 months ago
  • mirkat


    6 months ago
  • mirkat

    goooossshhh i had to read this again and wowowow it is just as funny! and hilarious and lovely and hhahaha noe-vel lol! gotta check out part 1-10.... <3

    6 months ago
  • ~madeline~

    Re: Thanks soo much!!! Alsoo... I've been wanting to go read this for so long!! I need to go back and read up :)

    6 months ago
  • mystifiedtulip

    Haha this is hilarious! Can't wait to continue reading this series!!! :D

    re: yeah i felt like adding some mystery and foreshadowing of some sort to engage the reader!

    6 months ago
  • Writing4Life

    Aaahhhhh I love it so much! Your pfp is AMAZING btw! Yassss I am so shipping Thinker and Prose!

    6 months ago
  • mirkat

    this is hilarious.... XDXDXD love it so freaking much! <3 <3 <3 really interesting idea, too

    6 months ago
  • anemoia (#words)

    Re: well, it's true! i'm glad i could make your day ;) this is just so hilarious, i cannot keep away from it! and i looked at the pfp again and fell even more in love with it. oh i just love this series so much.

    6 months ago
  • Writing4Life

    AHHHHHHHH I HAVEN'T EVEN READ IT YET IM TOO EXCITED! (btw ty for your comment on my piece), YAYYYY

    6 months ago
  • Spiral Dragon

    Hahah this was so good!

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    Okay last comment (probably): The serial killer reminded me of how my dad's college roommate (or was it himself?) hung a cereal box from the ceiling that had a knife in it and a note apologizing for being a cereal killer.

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    And I'm back because this is still awesome. I just can't stop laughing whenever I read these. It's like those comedy routines you watch over and over again (or maybe that's just my fam lol) because they make you laugh every time, except it's also sarcastic and with loveable characters and a ship (I like prinker best). Also, did I come up with tropies? I have no memory of that, but I do have a bad memory XD. Oh, do I have to sign up for notifications to be considered a tropy? Because I'd gladly do so; I just figured I wouldn't need to worry about missing anything because I spend my life on this site, so I didn't want to inconvenience you.

    6 months ago
  • anemoia (#words)

    laughing again while i reread. this might be the best yet. i am going to bookmark this to come back to when i need a pick-me-up. oh, thinker, never change. and plott: "but no one seems to be interested in a lifelong relationship filled with loathing and strife" ahhhhh XD XD XD

    6 months ago
  • Stone of Jade

    THIS IS AWESOME!! SO so amazing! The way you captured each of these characters/personification is absolutely perfect!! Thank you so much for letting me know you wrote this! XD #TROPIES <3

    6 months ago
  • anemoia (#words)

    ok, i am definitely a tropy (tropie?) and the pfp is golden (like that heavenly sunshine liquid!) i am so happy that you've posted another one of these. let me tell you, it's a good thing i'm at home, because i was laughing SO HARD. THE MCDONALD'S SCENE!!! THE SERIAL KILLER! i laughed just typing it. you have a gift for humor. i confess i don't remember everyone very well, but i loved it regardless. novel is certainly a piece of work. prose and thinker forever! (prinker? thinkrose? proser? idk... i'm bad at ship names.) i'm pretty sure anne helped decided on tropies for the fanbase. save the water dispensers!

    6 months ago
  • journal.scribbles

    I demand to be notified when a new installment comes out! :) I'm so proud to be a Tropie!!! And I love the pfp! "Very practical in getting rid of itself" made me laugh so much. Okay time to reread this to fully absorb its amazingness!

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    Wait... would the singular of tropies be tropy? Hmmm... Oh, and I ADORE the new pfp.

    6 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    Hands down your top Tropie standing (okay, sprawling) right here. *plays the TikTok sound that goes "No, I don't think you understand, I'm obSESSed"* There's gotta be somewhere you could publish this... some magazine... or a publisher who'd be interested in a book of kooky stories. Seriously, these are too good to just belong to us. Find some way to make money off of your masterpieces.

    6 months ago
  • Paisley Blue

    THIS IS AMAZING AND I MISSED THESE SO MUCH!!! <3333333333 yessssssssssss

    6 months ago