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╭ ⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸ ╮
𝑷 𝑶 𝑽 ❝ 𝚜𝚑𝚎...𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜? ❞
╰ ⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸⊸ ╯
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ㅤ𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 that terrify Finley Barrett the most.
First and foremost, flying cockroaches. Crawling ones, those safely secured on the floor or on the wall, are manageable. She can easily grab a slipper—or whatever heavy thing, really—and smack it hard enough to kill it. Flying ones, on the other hand, are demons on cocaine. They will land on anything and everything and Finley refuses to be in the near vicinity of one, regardless of the size.
Two, Tchaikovsky. Finley realizes how irrational this may be, considering the composer has been dead for over a century, but she swears to God Almighty that every time she hears the beginning of the Dance of the Sugar Plum fairy, she can feel herself tighten up. She absolutely does not want to be reminded of anything ballet related.
Three, spring breakers. Enough said.
Four, bitter gourd. Or in Filipino, ampalaya. She believes that people who can eat those green abominations are psychopaths. It's disgusting, bitter as hell, and does not contribute whatsoever on the overall taste of any meal. Sure, it's healthy, but that doesn't mean the taste can be pushed aside. She shivers just thinking about it.
