Popular |a.g, j.b, 1d, LM, 5SOS, etc.|

24 | Crotch Panel Massacre

hola

#sweg

okay i need to clear something up for you guys before you read: FARRAH IS NOT A THOT/SLUT/HOE/WHORE - etc.

she likes sεx and theres nothing wrong with that so if anyone is going to slut-shame her... ily but stfu :)

and btw i dont know if u realized...but farrah's an inspired character ... @RiaTheSwiftie *coughs* so she might take it personally

well tbh i made up a lot stuff about farrah.. the real farrah is only egyptian and looks nothing like i describe besides having hazel eyes, curvy, and curly hair :3

but still.. fictional farrah has a story, a past, a character with depth that you have to get to know and stop judging her

*hannah montana voice* NOBODY'S PERFECT  

i understand my readers pretty much are only girls (for what i see) so i just want you guys to know that as girls, you should be able to enjoy sεx and be confident with your sεxuality and not be a "slut"

I think @ryavon can agree

bc if a guy can enjoy and do those things, y'all can too

im not going to take ignorant comments saying farrah is a thot, bc i did get one and i was very angry.

*sigh* and ik theres slut-shaming in this story, but thats bc ignorant stuff like that actually happens in this society so itd be odd not to put that bc its realistic when it comes to school and teenagers

ok anyway i plan to teach a lot of stuff further on and yeah im done

love youuuuu and enjoy :)

___________________________

24 | Crotch Panel Massacre

[Ariana's P.O.V.]

I see the motherfucking Flag of Japan has went abroad to visit me and my inconveniently white bed sheets this fine morning.

                Menstruation is fun.

                No, not quite.

                “Fυckity-fυck!” I curse, trundling out of bed and padding to the bathroom to check my underwear.

                It's stained, a giant circle of wet blood around it.

                I press my hand against my forehead, trying not to release Goku on my vαgina right now.

                With quick instinct, I take off my underwear, throw it into the miniature trash can, and take my good old time to have a tiny memorial with a piece of tissue paper squeezed between my thighs.

                Why, isn't this ratchet.

                I get on my knees, bowing down to close my eyes and share my words of sympathy. “I am dearly sorry, formal ten-dollar Victoria's Secret underwear, for your lost. Even though you can't hear me – because you're fucked up by my pussy blood – I just want you to know that I love you.” I pretend to sniffle. “It's truly disappointing that you will no longer be associating with my butt crack, anus, vαgina, and buttocks anymore. I love you and so does my laundry basket and detergent.”