1. Do you miss Peter?

     -I cry myself to sleep at night just thinking about him. </3 :bademoticon: He's just so PERFECT. Man, if someone were to separate us and cause us not to see each other ever again, I WOULD KILL THAT PERSON AND MAKES SURE HE/SHE PAYS THE FULL PRICE OF HIS/HER ACTIONS AGAINST OUR LOVE.








2. What is one thing Renaldo isn't exactly made for?

     -Making friends. He's a reeeaaal loser. Everyone's been out to get him from day one. I mean, he's only been dedicating his life to humiliating people. And it's no wonder his whole family hates him. He's got cousins in Japan trying to blow him up. Hahaha. Stupid Renaldo, that's what you get.

(P.S. Renaldo, I hope we can still be friends after this.)



3. Who's Peyton dating?

     -   You're so funny omg haha, I'm peeing my pants.  
I applaud you for the joke.  
really


4. Can Lila be a bad influence?

     -Well duuuh! She's a filthy spoiled brat who doesn't know anything and doesn't deserve anything! She's always stealing ♥precious Peter's guitar  ♥ and trying to sell it on eBay like some filthy squib! Yeah, that's right! She's a filthy squib!!!1!!   



5. What advice would you give Annie?

     -You're perfect, hun!  Keep doing whatever you're doing because whatever it is, it's working! Like if you were any other girl, I might just bash you for making Peter fall in love with you. But I'm just so glad you don't like him back.  'Cause if you did...let's just say there'd be a problem between us.  
BUT GUUURL, THANKS FOR LIKE DITCHING HIM AND IGNORING HIM AND TELLING HIM THAT'S HE'S NOT WORTHY AND ALL THAT NICE STUFF BECAUSE NOW... he kinda hates you, girl. And I know that sounds really really really really bad, but, let's face it, you don't even care about him or anythang, so it'd be aight if I just caught his heart instead. And Annie, I just think you're cool because I haven't heard from you in a while. And you've like almost disappeared. Thanks for lying low! Hahaha, you're probably back in your village trying to fight Natasha... 



6. What would you do if you hadn't met Jared?

     -Honestly, my life wouldn't be very different if I hadn't known him at all. Well, he was funny throughout the years and stuff, and to be honest, I HAVE fangirled over him before...but seriously, I don't think I really care. I didn't even cry when he died.  



7. Ever slept in the same room with Rinaldi?

     -Lol, don't be joking. Rinaldi is already so slippery and elusive as it is. He'd probably punch ANYONE in the face that tries to get too close to him. Like, you'd just be walkin' down the street, and all of a sudden -- BANG! You get slapped in the face because you were within breathing range of the guy. And I'm not even joking!  Like he'll have your butt in prison for being in the same room as him.  So no, Rinaldi is a bad idea.  



8. Do you love Fred?

     -No, not really. He's too crazy and smart for me. I already made it clear that Peter's the only one for me.  But FRED, he's too obsessed with rockets and missiles to even care about anyone but himself. The guy gets riled up so easily, though! He can punch like Rinaldi I bet. He dwells in fantasies of destroying the world. Tsk. He gets me mad.



9. Who does Benjamin like?

     -Good question. I don't think he actually likes anyone. More like "tolerates." I know he hates his mum and his two sisters. But I think the person he's closest to is his dad. (Mainly because his dad is like this super rich billionaire guy that has loads of cash and loves to spend money on Benjamin. Plus, he's really smart and "misunderstood" like his son. They both hate the world and its contents.)



10. Who would win in a duel, Desmond or Peyton? And what kind of duel would they pick, anyway?

     -Aight, guys. First of all, let's just assess our people here.  

DESMOND: •Killed his brother. •Cries a lot. •Hates his sister. •Weak. •Plays the triangle.  

PEYTON: •Really smart. •Can't mess with him. •He has a death stare.  •Good in hand-to-hand combat. •Strong. •Killed the Shinigami that came with his Death Note. •Gave his brother a permanent scar on the right eye when they were little kids.   

Now that you know all about ze tributes, it seems apparent that Peyton would win.  Indeed, if it was a fight that involved skill and strength. However, y'alls is probably wondering how Desmond killed his brother in the first place. See, there's this thing called a Death Note. And when you write someone's name in it, they die! And that's exactly how he killed his brother. (Jared.) So if it was a Death Note duel, Peyton would still have an unfair advantage over Desmond because in order to operate the Death Note, you need a name and a face. And it just so happens that Peyton wears a mask 24/7 y'all. So Desmond is unable to see Peyton's face in order to kill him.

  DESMOND DOESN'T EVEN HAVE HIS OWN DEATH NOTE, THOUGH. (Plot twist!) Desmond had to borrow Peyton's in order to kill Jared. And then Peyton wrote Desmond's name in it about a week later. (So then he died.) XD But yeah, if they were dueling, Peyton would definitely win!









 








 That's it, y'all. I guess that was fun to do. Here's the link to this wonderful meme: HERE. It's so awesome and easy to use. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone!!!
 
*hands out random bags of candy*

Oh and I guess you can call those characters above me and my sister's OC's. Yupp. Pretty much. Thanks for reading if you did, and byeee~

I was tagged by . He should be glad I'm in the mood for doing this tag thing. >3<

Rules:
1. You must post the rules.
2. Each person must post 5 things about themselves in their journal.
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and create five new questions for the people you tag to answer 
4. You have to choose 10 people to tag and post their icons on your journal.
5. Go to their page and tell them you have tagged them. 
6. No tag backs ~
7. No stuff in the tagging section about "you're tagged if you're reading this" You legitimately have to tag 10 people.  

Five things about me:
1. I'm addicted to Black Butler. It's a medical problem.  
2. I have to pee really badly right now.  
3. When I was really little I fell down the stairs while riding my bike. (Who hasn't?)
4. I'm obsessed with abs!!! :bademoticon: 
5. Bacon is my homie. *tears* I mean, it's always been there for me! :bademoticon:  


Questions from :
1. Do you listen to JPop? No? Get out of my sight.'

    -Well, sometimes. I like it better than KPop.


2. Did you see the video I put up of Tsubasa breakdancing in the rain? It was really funny but he deleted it. Too bad for you.

     -I have no idea who Tsubasa is. Although breakdancing in the rain does sound quite fun. c:


3. What's your favourite Pokemon, I guess.
     
     Baka! How is one supposed to choose a FAVORITE Pokémon? I don't have a favorite; they're all pretty rad. I guess instead I can tell you the ones I'm the least fond of from Gen 1. Okay I don't like: Venusaur, Jynx, Charmeleon, Weedle, Spearow, Jigglypuff, Shellder, and Goldeen.


4. OK, I just realised when I type in "No" into the emoticon search bar, it pulls up like all the Pokemon. What is this sorcery!?!?!?!

     I think that's pretty cooooool.


5. I have no more questions. I'm done here.

       


My questions:
1. Do you watch Anime?  If so, what do you watch?
2. What's your lucky number? If you're not sure or you don't have one, which number is your favorite? Or if you don't have a favorite, then too bad don't answer this.
3. What shoe size are you?
4. Can you juggle?
5. What was your last dream about?


Okay so I really don't want to bother anybody by tagging them because I feel like it puts pressure on them like, "If you don't do the tag I will kill you." Guyz, I won't care if you don't do the tag. You won't hurt my feelings either. I will also be breaking rule number 5. Ain't nobody got time to actually tell ten different people "they were tagged." Honestly, if I tag you in this Journal, why would I also bother to write it on your page!?!? Think about it, my peoples. As if people weren't bothered enough by this. Some of us have lives. Anywayz,

I tag:




Okay so I'm actually also gonna break rule number four as well. Three is a good number to tag.

Mr. Button.

Button. George Button.

Apropos, Competent, Enlightened, Brilliant, Ingenious, Literary, Observative, Politic, Reflective, Sagacious, Endowed, Witty.

Ludicrous, Blanched, Flimsy, Gaunt, Slender, Appalling, Scandalous, Detestable, Offensive, Revolting, Obnoxious, Unwanted, Fragile, Frightful, Delicate.

Mr. Button, the man with pretty hands. Fingernails always clipped and tidy. Only resolving himself to the finest of luxuries. The hand soap he used smelled faintly of vanilla and chocolate roses. Back in the day, his hair used to be rather crinkly, but now glossy and thin. He prided himself in the fact that he was a powerful businessman; owning many companies and being an obvious trillionaire. He loved the good old days, always looking back at old photographs, laughing at his younger and much humbler self. He hated the way he was so unkempt and ratty. But he didn't care -- just so long as people heard his story and his rise to riches. He enjoyed, more than anything else, making people wonder how that poor, clumsy boy had grown into a fine, well-groomed gentleman. Being in his early twenties, Mr. Button felt he had conquered the whole world. When traveling, he used his fancy private jet complete with his personal butler, Alfred. When visiting new cities, he always took up residence in elegant hotels only the truly rich could afford. He only accepted five star hotels with excellent staff and wonderful three course meals. His room was always the one at the very top. He very much did enjoy a beautiful view before falling cozily asleep on his plush, expensive bed. Although he did own many hotels, he much rather enjoyed staying at places that weren't his own. The reasons were so that he could keep an eye on his competition and maybe, if it was a particularly remarkable hotel, steal some ideas and use them as his own. Mr. Button had a wife and three children. The last time he had heard from them was on his wedding day. The day after, he had left and swore never to return, for he wanted to make a star out of himself. Though he did achieve riches, he never went once to visit his family. After a few years of intense thinking, Mr. Button finally decided to return home. He envisioned his whole family on the porch, happily waving him home, shouting to him how great he was and how proud they were. But crushed were the dreams of old George Button, for upon his arrival, his children recognized him not. The first child he encountered, Benjamin, looked him over with disgust and said he didn't know who this man was. Appalled and thinking that this was some sort of joke, Mr. Button approached his other child, Lucy, in attempts that maybe she would remember him. But she ran screaming for her mommy, shouting that a strange man had come knocking on the door. George gave up hope as his third and eldest child looked away disdainfully and grunted. With caution, Mr. George Button approached his wife with an armload of flowers. "For you, my sweet wife." But she just looked at him with curiosity and murmured, "Who are you?" After a full hour, the family came back to delicate memories with their father. They remembered how he used to be so down to earth and kind. Now he was wearing expensive suits and had a businesslike, almost professional, aura about him. Everyone remembered clearly the day he had left and the exact words that came tumbling out of his rehearsed mouth. "I'm leaving and possibly never coming back. As far as I can tell, this family has nothing to offer me. So I'm leaving and starting a new life. Think nothing of this departure, for you will see me again sometime soon -- in magazines and billboards perhaps." And they did see him. Within a few years time, he had dominated the front cover of almost every magazine in the market. Not only that, but he was also on television. Doing commercials, starring in movies; things in that range. Slowly, his name became almost widely known around the country. He was top man. And know one was quite sure how he had done it. And for this, naturally, his family hated him. They never got a card, a phone call, or even postcards from this weasel of a man they called their father. The family shunned his arrival and wanted nothing more to do with him. But unfortunately for George, he had chosen this time to finally settle down and have a nice, quiet life with his family. He wanted, needed, LUSTED for his family's attention. Whenever he saw them in the street, he would always make a great deal of showing off to prove to them he was still a worthy father. But he was a scoundrel. A nasty rat filled with grime, that George Button. Always disrespectful to strangers and poor people, thinking the whole world was his. Thinking that anything and everything could be bought at a certain price. He had so much money to spend he didn't even care what was happening to it. At first he tried showing off his brain to his nerdy son, Benjamin, by discussing rocket science and the basic laws of physics. Benjamin, however, was clearly not impressed. He only started liking his dad when he offered to pay for rocket parts that Benjamin so needed for an experimental project his was working on with his best friend, Fred. The mother did not approve of this, though, and always told Benjamin not to hang out with that wet rat of a father. But Benjamin paid no heed, as his father seemed legit and top-notch. Determined, George Button set out to buy his way to his children's hearts. He bought a mansion for Lucy, but to no avail. She was yet a little girl and didn't know what she wanted. Within hours of buying a very expensive mansion, George yet again had to sell it, for Lucy became distracted and pleaded she no longer wanted the mansion. Whenever he got too close to his wife, she would slap him hard across the face. But George Button didn't mind. He was determined to do whatever he had to do to get back in the circle of his family.

So I suppose the question remains, unanswered and still hanging in the air, waiting above our heads like a silent killer ready to pounce on its prey; or a large, destructive bomb, ready to explode at a delicate touch. Will Mr. Button succeed?

Splattering ink on all the pages left to be written.

 

     This was restless. She waited for the feelings in her chest to settle down. But the war still raged. She clutched her throat. Was she having trouble breathing? The girl sank down onto the cold, winter ground on unsteady knees. She rested her palms on the cool, frost-bitten grass and watched as the blood ran down from her mouth. The blood was salty and tasted of a quiet relief. This was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life. Never in so long had she felt so free; yet there was still a nagging feeling in her chest. But she had to be brave. She had to remind herself that this was not her fault. She did not kill herself. It was the years of torment and misery that delivered the fatal blow. And now she lay, dying on the street, the first winter flurries beginning to fall. Soon she will be buried and her past will have been forgotten. She was nothing, yet everything. Her essence was everywhere, but no one ever noticed.
     Buried beneath a cloud of misunderstanding and regret, here lies the one that just couldn't take it anymore.