gay on gay crime call that fruit punch

NEW PASTA JUST DROPPED

Shipping companies rn:

marvel this, marvel that... why don't you go marvel at some grass outside

why tf are marvel fans reblogging this why don't you guys go avengers assemble a girlfriend

IMPORTANT

PLEASE SIGN:

WAYS TO HELP:

Welcome to the neighborhood || Bryson McDonnell - Open

Bryson sat on the porch looking out at the neighborhood. It was kind of the same as England but not quite. Nothing was quite like home. He missed his grandparents and all his old friends but he could do this. At least his dad seemed happy about the move. He claimed to have friends and since uncle Pj agreed he believed his dad. Bryson stood up and stretched and straightened his blonde hair. He started to walk around curiously he thought he saw a few kids his age.

"I mean maybe. Depends on the famly." Harlen shrugs. It seemed like eveyone knew eveyone here anyways so there was usually an open door to new kids. "Theres a few cool spots in there, a brook, a hide out, an old decrepit tree house. Haven't spent a ton of time in there though." He looks at his house as the near it, hoping his sister didn't rush them or soemthing. "Depends. Usually the parents will throw a party and we meet up at someones place or do manhunt. There was a party at a high schoolers house last year but eveyone who was able to sneek over got thrown out."

Guess I have to host a banger for you lot. Have to find a place first. The spot tedious sounds promises but maybe not my first few weeks here. Have to sort out the rubbish first. You'll have to be there." Bryson noted. It was the first thing he was looking forward to since he landed on this soil. "What families live around here?" He asked.

Harlen chuckles a bit and shakes his head a little, sure hes just kidding, but then he sounds pretty serious that he wants to throw a "banger" and Harlen starts to think of parties he tried to attend before. "Yeah. I'll have to be there." He just agrees for now. "Mostly all dad houses. Theres the Swedish, uh half swedish one you heard about, a son and daughter. Your good ol American couple with 3 daughters and some other British guys with a daughter an a son but in reverse." He explains. "Honestly, I know them all the best."

"All dad houses? Whats that suppose to mean?" Bryson asked curiously. He listens to the families. "I should find the other British family. Figure out how to dig my feet in the sand here." He said. "Are you the local favorite child then? Have I gotten lucky in finding a guide?" He asked jokingly.

"All dads like l, 2 dads and their kids." He explains thi king that was pretty obvious. "Uh, yeah maybe but you could also talk to my pops. He's not American either." He tries to offer up in hopes of not losing his advantage with making a new friend, but then, an opportunity. "Um, I dunno about that but all the parents have kinda known me since I was born so I think they have a soft spot for me."

"There are no mums on this street?! That's odd. Well I haven't gotten one either. So I fit in there." Bryson said smiling at him. "Sure I can. Parent's love me, it keeps them off my back. Looks like I did hit the lottery in finding a guide." He said proudly and looked at the house they were in front of. "What's your dad like? Is he mean or something?"

"I guess no. Not as many as you think there would be." He notes and gives a little shrug. "My mom comes by some times but she's not like how a mom is supposed to be." He clarified and nods along in agreement with the claim that if the parents like you get a little more freedom. "Yeah, I got you! No no, my dads aren't mean theyre... they're dads. You know?"

Welcome to the neighborhood || Bryson McDonnell - Open

Bryson sat on the porch looking out at the neighborhood. It was kind of the same as England but not quite. Nothing was quite like home. He missed his grandparents and all his old friends but he could do this. At least his dad seemed happy about the move. He claimed to have friends and since uncle Pj agreed he believed his dad. Bryson stood up and stretched and straightened his blonde hair. He started to walk around curiously he thought he saw a few kids his age.

"I mean maybe. Depends on the famly." Harlen shrugs. It seemed like eveyone knew eveyone here anyways so there was usually an open door to new kids. "Theres a few cool spots in there, a brook, a hide out, an old decrepit tree house. Haven't spent a ton of time in there though." He looks at his house as the near it, hoping his sister didn't rush them or soemthing. "Depends. Usually the parents will throw a party and we meet up at someones place or do manhunt. There was a party at a high schoolers house last year but eveyone who was able to sneek over got thrown out."

Guess I have to host a banger for you lot. Have to find a place first. The spot tedious sounds promises but maybe not my first few weeks here. Have to sort out the rubbish first. You'll have to be there." Bryson noted. It was the first thing he was looking forward to since he landed on this soil. "What families live around here?" He asked.

Harlen chuckles a bit and shakes his head a little, sure hes just kidding, but then he sounds pretty serious that he wants to throw a "banger" and Harlen starts to think of parties he tried to attend before. "Yeah. I'll have to be there." He just agrees for now. "Mostly all dad houses. Theres the Swedish, uh half swedish one you heard about, a son and daughter. Your good ol American couple with 3 daughters and some other British guys with a daughter an a son but in reverse." He explains. "Honestly, I know them all the best."

"All dad houses? Whats that suppose to mean?" Bryson asked curiously. He listens to the families. "I should find the other British family. Figure out how to dig my feet in the sand here." He said. "Are you the local favorite child then? Have I gotten lucky in finding a guide?" He asked jokingly.

"All dads like l, 2 dads and their kids." He explains thi king that was pretty obvious. "Uh, yeah maybe but you could also talk to my pops. He's not American either." He tries to offer up in hopes of not losing his advantage with making a new friend, but then, an opportunity. "Um, I dunno about that but all the parents have kinda known me since I was born so I think they have a soft spot for me."

Welcome to the neighborhood || Bryson McDonnell - Open

Bryson sat on the porch looking out at the neighborhood. It was kind of the same as England but not quite. Nothing was quite like home. He missed his grandparents and all his old friends but he could do this. At least his dad seemed happy about the move. He claimed to have friends and since uncle Pj agreed he believed his dad. Bryson stood up and stretched and straightened his blonde hair. He started to walk around curiously he thought he saw a few kids his age.

"I mean maybe. Depends on the famly." Harlen shrugs. It seemed like eveyone knew eveyone here anyways so there was usually an open door to new kids. "Theres a few cool spots in there, a brook, a hide out, an old decrepit tree house. Haven't spent a ton of time in there though." He looks at his house as the near it, hoping his sister didn't rush them or soemthing. "Depends. Usually the parents will throw a party and we meet up at someones place or do manhunt. There was a party at a high schoolers house last year but eveyone who was able to sneek over got thrown out."

Guess I have to host a banger for you lot. Have to find a place first. The spot tedious sounds promises but maybe not my first few weeks here. Have to sort out the rubbish first. You'll have to be there." Bryson noted. It was the first thing he was looking forward to since he landed on this soil. "What families live around here?" He asked.

Harlen chuckles a bit and shakes his head a little, sure hes just kidding, but then he sounds pretty serious that he wants to throw a "banger" and Harlen starts to think of parties he tried to attend before. "Yeah. I'll have to be there." He just agrees for now. "Mostly all dad houses. Theres the Swedish, uh half swedish one you heard about, a son and daughter. Your good ol American couple with 3 daughters and some other British guys with a daughter an a son but in reverse." He explains. "Honestly, I know them all the best."

so just in general with fandom, but good life advice, too, is: if you pay for a zine or product or service and it never gets sent and oh… say it turns out their art account is actually a sockpuppet for a known scammer with 30k+ followers, call your credit card company and cancel the charge. they will go after the scammer directly and return you your money immediately. please don’t put up with being treated that way. fandom economy is the wild wild west right now, but you do have recourse. likewise, artists, keep receipts of services delivered and accepted because i know people have tried the reverse (cancelling charges on legit deals) as well.

Welcome to the neighborhood || Bryson McDonnell - Open

Bryson sat on the porch looking out at the neighborhood. It was kind of the same as England but not quite. Nothing was quite like home. He missed his grandparents and all his old friends but he could do this. At least his dad seemed happy about the move. He claimed to have friends and since uncle Pj agreed he believed his dad. Bryson stood up and stretched and straightened his blonde hair. He started to walk around curiously he thought he saw a few kids his age.

"I mean maybe. Depends on the famly." Harlen shrugs. It seemed like eveyone knew eveyone here anyways so there was usually an open door to new kids. "Theres a few cool spots in there, a brook, a hide out, an old decrepit tree house. Haven't spent a ton of time in there though." He looks at his house as the near it, hoping his sister didn't rush them or soemthing. "Depends. Usually the parents will throw a party and we meet up at someones place or do manhunt. There was a party at a high schoolers house last year but eveyone who was able to sneek over got thrown out."

Welcome to the neighborhood || Bryson McDonnell - Open

Bryson sat on the porch looking out at the neighborhood. It was kind of the same as England but not quite. Nothing was quite like home. He missed his grandparents and all his old friends but he could do this. At least his dad seemed happy about the move. He claimed to have friends and since uncle Pj agreed he believed his dad. Bryson stood up and stretched and straightened his blonde hair. He started to walk around curiously he thought he saw a few kids his age.

"Cool, a little variety in the neighborhood. I'm not one to question how anyone talks but fake America accents alway sonna a little like a cowboy or a surfer." He mentions. "Still pretty good though yeah." He chuckles and nods a bit at the question. "Apparently. They aren't the welcome wagon type but they seemed like they at least weren't upset about it so they were probably friends."

"My Dad and my uncle likes to do impressions when they come from the pubs to tell us stories. I practiced Swedish too." Bryson listed off remembering listening to them as a kid. "My Dad is too lame to have friends but he still mad us cross the pond. What goes for sound around here?" He asked curiously.

Harlen looks at Bryson from the side of his eye. Not able to help but of smile at this news. This would be good. "Just the accent or the langue?" He asked and looks around for a second, making sure they were still being left alone. "For sound? Like... music?"

"The accent mostly except for some swears. I looked them up." Bryson said then realized he could find one of his Dad's 'friends' "Any swedish families around here?" He asked casually. He'll have to look. "No like sound fun. Like entertainment. Doesn't matter if we have to mind our manners or not. Ive been here almost a week and Im bored to hell." He explained.

Harlen wasn't sure what the answer to that honestly was, what technically counted, but he nodded. "Yeah, actaully if you could believe it." He points forward to his own house without saying anything about it. "Without going into town theres a few things, mostly hanging out at peoples houses or running into the woods. Every once in a while theres a party someones parents throw and we get to tear it up for a while though."

imagine trying to learn english and hear this

the worst part is that this makes perfect sense to me

There is no one in earth stronger than people who learn English as a second language. I bow to you