APAJI

[APAJI @apaji_x]

My girlfriend called me crying at 2:13 a.m.

Me: “What happened?”

Her: “I need you to answer one question honestly.”

Me: “Okay.”

Her: “Have you ever met my mother before?”

I laughed.

Me: “What kind of question is that?”

She didn't laugh.

Her: “Please. Just answer me.”

Me: “No. I've never met your mother.”

Silence.

Her: “Are you sure?”

[APAJI @apaji_x]

BPD can make dating feel like emotional whiplash💀 One minute you're their favorite person, the next you're wondering what just happened🏃

[APAJI @apaji_x]

5. ADHD CAN AFFECT EMOTIONAL REGULATION TOO.

ADHD isn't only about unfinished assignments and misplaced keys.

Some people experience emotions that feel unusually intense or difficult to regulate, particularly frustration, rejection, boredom, or overwhelm.

The emotion is real.

The challenge may be how quickly the nervous system becomes activated—and how difficult it is to return to baseline.

6. FORGETFULNESS DOESN'T MEAN YOU DON'T CARE.

Someone with ADHD may genuinely care about an appointment, message, birthday, deadline, or responsibility—and still forget it.

Intentions and memory are not the same thing.

External reminders, calendars, routines, visual cues, and structured environments can become essential tools rather than signs of weakness.

Needing systems doesn't mean someone lacks discipline.

It means they're building support around a vulnerable function.

7. ADHD IS NOT A CHARACTER FLAW.

Perhaps the most damaging misconception is that people with ADHD simply need to “try harder.”

ADHD is a neurodevelopmental condition that can affect executive functioning and everyday life.

That doesn't mean people with ADHD are incapable, unreliable, or unintelligent.

It means their difficulties deserve understanding, appropriate support, and—when needed—professional assessment and treatment.

The goal isn't to excuse every behavior.

It's to understand the mechanism well enough to change what can be changed.

ADHD is more complicated than distraction.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

7 THINGS ABOUT ADHD THAT PEOPLE OFTEN GET COMPLETELY WRONG

ADHD is not simply “being easily distracted.” It can affect attention, motivation, emotional regulation, memory, organization, and everyday functioning in ways people don't always see.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

3. ADHD CAN AFFECT TIME PERCEPTION.

Some people with ADHD don't experience time as consistently as they appear to from the outside.

A task that should take 20 minutes can somehow take two hours.

A deadline that is three weeks away can feel strangely unreal until it becomes urgent.

This can create a painful cycle:

“I'll do it later.”

Then later becomes panic.

4. HYPERFOCUS DOESN'T MEAN ADHD ISN'T REAL.

One of the biggest misconceptions is:

“If you can focus on something for six hours, you can't have ADHD.”

That's not how attention regulation works.

ADHD can involve difficulty controlling where attention goes and how long it stays there.

When something is highly stimulating, novel, emotionally meaningful, or rewarding, maintaining attention can become much easier.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

He deserves clear responsibilities.

He deserves his agreed salary.

He deserves respect.

And if you expect him to protect your property as though it were his own, don't make him feel like he is beneath you.

Respect creates loyalty.

Humiliation creates resentment.

And sometimes, the biggest mistake a landlord can make is assuming:

“He needs me more than I need him.”

Maybe.

But people don't stay loyal forever where they are constantly treated without dignity.

There are landlords who spend millions building houses...

Then lose peace because they refuse to spend a little time building a good relationship with the person watching over them.

And there are compound agents who earn little...

But protect the property like it belongs to their own family.

Nobody may notice their work.

Nobody may clap for them.

Nobody may even say thank you.

But that doesn't mean their effort has no value.

So if you're a landlord, appreciate the people who help protect what you worked hard to build.

And if you're a compound agent, remember that your honesty is bigger than your salary.

Do your work with dignity.

Because a house can have expensive doors, beautiful tiles, and a massive fence...

But sometimes, the greatest security around that property is simply a person who has decided:

“As long as this responsibility is in my hands, I will not betray the trust placed in me.”

May God bless every honest worker who protects what belongs to someone else...

And may He give every landlord the wisdom to recognize the people who quietly help keep their property, their tenants, and their peace together.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

I want to tell every landlord something.

Sometimes the person you think is “just the compound agent” may be the reason your property is still standing today.

Take a closer look at the man who opens the gate every morning.

The one who sweeps the compound.

The one who collects rent.

The one who notices when a tenant hasn't come home.

The one who calls you when the water stops running.

The one who knows which tenant is always causing problems.

You may think he's simply doing his job.

But there's something many landlords don't realize.

Your property may be worth millions.

But the person watching over it may earn only a fraction of that.

And yet, every day, he is there.

Rain or sunshine.

Early morning or late at night.

When everyone else has gone home, he's still around.

When tenants argue, he's the one standing in the middle.

When the generator develops a problem, he's the one searching for the mechanic.

When a tap breaks at midnight, someone is calling him.

When a tenant disappears without paying, guess who gets questioned first?

The agent.

And sometimes, after doing all of that, the only thing he hears from the landlord is:

“Why haven't you done this?”

“Why didn't you collect that?”

“Why is the compound dirty?”

“Why is the tenant complaining?”

Nobody asks:

“Are you okay?”

And I'm not saying a landlord should tolerate laziness.

No.

If someone is being paid to work, they should do their job.

But there is a difference between correcting someone and treating them like they are worthless.

Because the compound agent is a human being too.

He has a family.

He has bills.

He gets tired.

He gets sick.

He has problems he doesn't tell you about.

And sometimes, he is doing far more than the money in his pocket can explain.

Now let me tell the compound agent something.

Don't become careless simply because your landlord doesn't appreciate you.

Don't start neglecting the property because nobody praises you.

Don't allow anger to make you destroy the trust someone placed in you.

You may not own the building.

But your character is still yours.

If the landlord gives you responsibility, protect it.

If tenants disrespect you, don't become like them.

If your salary is small, work honestly while you search for something better.

Because one day, somebody may remember you as the man who could be trusted with everything.

And that reputation can open doors money cannot.

But landlords also need to understand something.

Your compound agent is not your slave.

He is not available every second of the day simply because you pay him.

[Fionaaaa🌻 @feeonxx]

My boss fired me on Zoom in front of 40 people.
3 months later he was begging me for a job.
Here’s what happened:

It was a Tuesday 9am meeting. 40 people on the call.
Q4 targets. Everyone stressed.
My boss, Mark, shares his screen.
He gets to slide 12. My name is there.
“Underperformers.”
Then he looks at the camera and says:
“Nicki, we’re letting you go. Effective immediately.”
40 people. Dead silence.
Some turned their cameras off.
I just nodded. “Okay.”

[Mario, PT @Mario_Sneh]

My wife and I were planning our daughter’s wedding.

The venue cost $14,000.

We had already paid the deposit, and the final payment was due two weeks before the wedding.

Then I received an email from the venue.

“Final payment instructions have been updated.”

It looked normal.

Same logo. Same employee’s name.

Same email thread.

They told me the venue had changed banks and asked me to send the remaining $9,500 to a new account.

I paid it.

A week later, the venue manager called.

“Sir, your balance is still outstanding.”

I thought they were joking.

“I paid the balance last Tuesday.”

“No, you didn’t.”

I sent her the confirmation.

She went quiet.

Then she said:

[APAJI @apaji_x]

I want to tell everyone something I learned too late about life.

Stop expecting people to value you simply because you would have valued them.

Some people will forget the nights you stayed awake for them.

They will forget the times you showed up when nobody else did.

They will forget the money you spent, the advice you gave, the opportunities you sacrificed, and the times you put their problems before your own.

And sometimes, they won't even realize they hurt you.

At first, this can make you angry.

You start asking yourself:

“How could they do that after everything I did for them?”

But take a step back.

You may be making one of the biggest mistakes people make in life.

You're measuring their heart using yours.

You assume that because YOU would never treat them that way, they must understand how deeply their actions affect you.

But people don't love, appreciate, communicate, or remember things the same way.

Some people only recognize your value after losing access to you.

Some only appreciate your presence when your absence becomes inconvenient.

And some genuinely love you, but are so accustomed to everything you do that they stop noticing it.

That's why you have to learn something uncomfortable:

Being good to people does not guarantee that they will be good to you.

This doesn't mean you should become cold.

It doesn't mean you should stop helping people.

It doesn't mean you should stop loving deeply.

It simply means you need to stop using other people's reactions as the measurement of your worth.

Because if you do, you'll eventually become exhausted.

You'll give and give.

You'll keep expecting someone to finally notice.

You'll become bitter when they don't.

And one day, you'll realize you weren't helping them anymore.

You were trying to earn appreciation.

There's a difference.

Learn to do good because it reflects who YOU are.

Not because you're keeping score.

But there's something else you need to understand.

Being kind doesn't mean having no boundaries.

Being forgiving doesn't mean allowing someone to repeatedly disrespect you.

Loving someone doesn't mean abandoning yourself to keep them happy.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back.

Not because you hate them.

But because you've finally understood that your peace matters too.

And if someone constantly makes you feel like you're asking for too much when all you're asking for is basic respect, pay attention.

If you always have to beg someone to notice your effort, pay attention.

If they only remember your value when you're leaving, pay attention.

People can make mistakes.

People can change.

People can deserve another chance.

But you shouldn't have to disappear completely before someone realizes you mattered.

And to the person who feels forgotten right now, I want you to hear this:

Your efforts were not worthless just because nobody thanked you.

Those sacrifices still mattered.

Those nights you stayed strong still mattered.

The times you showed up still mattered.

The love you gave was still real.

You simply gave some of it to people who didn't know how to hold it.

So don't let disappointment turn you into someone you were never meant to be.

Keep your heart.

But protect it.

Keep loving.

But learn boundaries.

Keep helping.

But don't destroy yourself trying to save everyone.

And most importantly, stop begging people to recognize what you bring into their lives.

Sometimes you don't need to prove your value.

You need to go where your value is already understood.

Because one of the hardest lessons life teaches you is this:

You can be a blessing in someone's life and still be someone they don't know how to appreciate.

And that doesn't make you less valuable.

It simply means you finally need to stop measuring your worth by the eyes of people who couldn't see it.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

Landlord: “Your rent is overdue.”

Me: “I know.”

Landlord: “So when are you paying?”

Me: “When you fix the leaking roof.”

He laughed.

“You've lived here for eight months.”

“And you've ignored the leak for six.”

He pulled out his phone.

“I'm taking you to court.”

I nodded.

“Okay.”

Three weeks later, we were standing in front of a judge.

Landlord: “Your Honor, this tenant refuses to pay rent.”

Judge: “How much does he owe?”

“Four months.”

The judge looked at me.

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

The landlord smiled.

Then the judge asked:

“Why?”

I handed over a folder.

“Because every time it rains, water pours through the ceiling.”

The landlord interrupted.

“That's an exaggeration.”

The judge looked at him.

“Do you have proof the roof was repaired?”

He went silent.

I handed the judge photographs.

Then videos.

Then copies of six messages I'd sent him.

The judge looked at the landlord.

“You received these?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you do?”

“I told him I'd send someone.”

“When?”

He couldn't answer.

The judge leaned back.

Then asked me:

“Why didn't you simply move out?”

I said:

“Because I couldn't afford another deposit.”

The courtroom went quiet.

Then the landlord suddenly smiled.

“Your Honor, there's something else.”

He pulled out a document.

“My tenant damaged the property.”

The judge looked at me.

“Did you?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

The landlord pointed at the photographs.

“There are holes in the wall.”

I looked at the pictures.

Then laughed.

“Your Honor, those holes were there before I moved in.”

The landlord frowned.

“How do you know?”

I opened my phone.

“I took these photos on moving day.”

The exact same holes were visible.

The judge stared at the landlord.

Then at me.

Then back at the landlord.

Finally, he said:

“I'm beginning to understand why this case was brought.”

The landlord looked confused.

The judge continued:

“Mr. Landlord, your tenant owes rent.”

The landlord smiled.

“But you owe him something too.”

His smile disappeared.

“Six months of documented repairs you ignored.”

The courtroom went silent.

Then the judge looked at me.

“You will pay the rent you legally owe.”

I nodded.

Then he looked at the landlord.

“And you will fix the roof.”

The landlord sighed.

The judge added:

“Before the next rainfall.”

I almost laughed.

The landlord didn't.

Sometimes the best revenge isn't winning the argument.

It's bringing receipts.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

Wife: “Can we talk?”

Me: “About what?”

Wife: “I think we should stop pretending.”

I put my phone down.

“Pretending what?”

She looked at me for a few seconds.

“Pretending we're still married.”

I laughed.

She didn't.

We had been married for seven years.

No cheating.

No huge fights.

No secret lover.

Just two people who had slowly become strangers.

Me: “Are you asking for a divorce?”

Wife: “Yes.”

Me: “Why now?”

She looked toward the hallway.

“Our son asked me something this morning.”

“What?”

She hesitated.

“He asked why you sleep in the guest room.”

I went quiet.

I had been sleeping there for almost a year.

Neither of us had ever discussed it.

We just stopped sharing a room.

She continued.

“He asked if you were angry with me.”

I shook my head.

“I’m not angry with you.”

“I know.”

“Then why divorce?”

She reached into her handbag.

Pulled out a small envelope.

“Read this.”

I opened it.

It was a hotel receipt.

My name was on it.

My stomach dropped.

“I can explain.”

She shook her head.

“I don't want an explanation.”

“Then what do you want?”

She looked at me.

“The truth.”

I stared at the receipt.

Then I remembered.

Three months earlier, I had booked that hotel room.

But I hadn't stayed there.

I had booked it for her.

She didn't know.

I had discovered she was planning to leave me.

So I booked the room under my name.

I wanted to give her somewhere to stay if she ever decided she was unhappy.

I never told her.

Because I thought admitting it would mean admitting our marriage was already broken.

She looked at me.

“I thought you were having an affair.”

“I wasn't.”

“Then why did you book a hotel?”

“For you.”

She froze.

“For me?”

I nodded.

“I knew you were unhappy.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“So you were preparing for me to leave?”

“I was preparing for you to be happy.”

She sat down.

Neither of us spoke.

Then our son walked into the room.

“Are you two getting divorced?”

We looked at each other.

For the first time in months, we both answered at the same time.

“No.”

He smiled.

Then ran back upstairs.

My wife looked at me.

“We still have a lot to fix.”

“I know.”

She reached for my hand.

“But maybe we should try before we quit.”

And that night, for the first time in almost a year, neither of us slept in the guest room.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

Her: “Can I ask you something?”

Me: “Sure.”

Her: “If you found out I had been talking to someone else, would you leave me?”

I laughed.

“Why would you ask me that?”

She didn't laugh.

“I just want to know.”

I looked at her.

“Is there something I should know?”

“No.”

That answer came too quickly.

I noticed she had turned her phone face down.

Me: “Who were you talking to?”

Her: “Nobody.”

Me: “Then why are you asking me this?”

She sighed.

“Can we not do this tonight?”

That bothered me.

We had been together for four years.

We rarely argued.

And she had never hidden her phone from me before.

I reached for it.

She pulled it away.

“Don't.”

I stopped.

“Okay.”

She looked relieved.

Then she said:

“I think we should take a break.”

I stared at her.

“Because of someone else?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

“Then because of what?”

She didn't answer.

I asked again.

“Are you unhappy with me?”

She looked down.

“I've been unhappy with myself.”

I didn't understand.

Then she stood up.

“I need some time.”

She walked into the bedroom.

I stayed on the couch.

For the next hour, I couldn't stop thinking about that phone.

Eventually, she came back out.

“I need to tell you something.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

She sat beside me.

“I've been talking to someone.”

My stomach dropped.

“Who?”

She handed me her phone.

There was one conversation at the top.

But it wasn't what I expected.

The messages weren't romantic.

They were medical.

Appointments.

Test results.

Medication.

I looked at her.

“Who is this?”

She whispered:

“My doctor.”

I was confused.

Then she said:

“I've been diagnosed with something.”

I couldn't speak.

She continued:

“I didn't tell you because I was scared you'd look at me differently.”

I took her hand.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because that's what people do.”

She started crying.

“I thought if I told you, you'd stay because you felt obligated.”

“So I kept pretending everything was fine.”

I looked at the phone again.

Then I understood the question she'd asked earlier.

She wasn't asking whether I'd leave because of another man.

She was asking whether I'd leave if she stopped being the person she used to be.

I pulled her closer.

“I don't need you to be the person you were.”

She looked at me.

“I just need you to let me be here.”

She cried into my shoulder.

And for the first time that night, she stopped hiding her phone.

She put it on the table between us.

Unlocked.

Not because I needed to check it.

Because she finally trusted me enough not to.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

Wife: “I want a divorce.”

Me: “Tonight?”

Wife: “Yes.”

Me: “Our daughter was born three hours ago.”

Wife: “I know.”

I stared at her.

She was still wearing the hospital bracelet.

Our baby was sleeping beside her.

I thought she was joking.

She wasn't.

Me: “Did something happen?”

Wife: “Something happened a long time ago.”

I didn't understand.

We had been married for six years.

We had spent the entire pregnancy preparing for this day.

A nursery.

A name.

Tiny clothes.

Everything.

Me: “Is there someone else?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

Me: “Then why are you doing this?”

She looked toward our daughter.

“Because of her.”

That scared me.

Me: “What does our daughter have to do with our marriage?”

She didn't answer.

She just asked:

“Do you remember the night we met?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember what I told you?”

I smiled.

“You said you never wanted children.”

She nodded.

“I lied.”

That smile disappeared.

Me: “Why?”

She reached for her phone.

“Because I already had one.”

I froze.

“What?”

She showed me a picture.

A little girl.

Maybe four years old.

Same eyes as my wife.

Me: “Who is that?”

“My daughter.”

I stared at the photo.

Then at her.

“Where is she?”

“She died.”

I didn't know what to say.

She continued.

“Four years before I met you.”

“She was sick.”

“I spent everything I had trying to save her.”

“I couldn't.”

Her voice broke.

“So when I met you, I decided I would never have another child.”

“Never.”

I looked at our newborn.

“Then why did you marry me?”

She wiped her tears.

“Because you made me believe life could be good again.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she said:

“But I was terrified throughout this entire pregnancy.”

“Terrified of what?”

She looked at our daughter.

“That I would love her.”

I didn't understand.

She whispered:

“And lose her too.”

My wife had spent nine months pretending she was excited.

Every ultrasound.

Every doctor's appointment.

Every time we bought baby clothes.

She had been terrified.

Then she said something that broke me.

“I didn't ask you for a divorce because I don't love you.”

“I asked because I love you too much to watch you become a single father.”

I stared at her.

“Why would I become a single father?”

She looked away.

Then handed me an envelope.

Inside was a medical report.

Her heart condition had been getting worse throughout the pregnancy.

She had known for months.

The doctors weren't sure how much time she had.

I couldn't breathe.

“You knew?”

She nodded.

“I didn't want our daughter's first day in this world to be the day you started grieving me.”

I sat beside her.

“You should have told me.”

“I was afraid you'd stay because you felt sorry for me.”

I took her hand.

“I wouldn't stay because I felt sorry for you.”

She looked at me.

“I'd stay because you're my wife.”

She started crying.

Then our daughter made a tiny sound.

We both turned toward her.

My wife reached out and touched her little hand.

For the first time that night, she smiled.

Then she whispered:

“Maybe I was wrong.”

I squeezed her hand.

“About what?”

She looked at our daughter.

“Maybe this time, I don't have to lose everything.”

And that's when I realized something.

She wasn't asking me for a divorce.

She was asking me to give her permission to leave before she had the chance to be left.

[APAJI @apaji_x]

“Pack your things. You’re fired.”

Everyone in the office went quiet.

I looked up from my laptop.

Our manager was standing over Mrs. Grace, the cleaner.

She looked confused.

“Sir… what did I steal?”

He pointed at the refrigerator.

“Food.”

She lowered her head.

“I’m sorry.”

That was it.

No explanation.

No argument.

Just “I’m sorry.”

I had worked there for almost three years.

Mrs. Grace had been cleaning that office every morning for nearly six.

She never caused problems.

She barely spoke.

And she always arrived before everyone else.

Our manager opened the fridge.

“This was your last warning.”

She nodded.

“I understand.”

I couldn't help myself.

“Sir, what exactly did she take?”

He looked at me.

“Two lunch packs.”

“Did you see her take them?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know she took them?”

He pointed toward the security camera.

“The camera caught her.”

That changed the room.

He pulled up the footage.

There she was.

6:42 a.m.

Mrs. Grace walked into the break room.

She looked around.

Then opened the refrigerator.

She took two food containers.

And put them inside her bag.

Nobody said anything.

The manager turned to her.

“Do you still want to explain?”

She stared at the floor.

“No, sir.”

He shook his head.

“I gave you enough chances.”

Then something bothered me.

“Wait.”

Everyone looked at me.

“Why would she steal two lunch packs?”

The manager shrugged.

“Because she wanted them.”

I looked at Mrs. Grace.

She still wouldn't look up.

“Mrs. Grace?”

She finally raised her eyes.

“What happened?”

She was silent for a few seconds.

Then she whispered:

“They weren't for me.”

The room went completely quiet.

Our manager frowned.

“Then who were they for?”

She didn't answer.

I asked again.

“Who were they for?”

She reached into her handbag.

Pulled out her phone.

And showed me a picture.

It was a little boy.

Maybe seven years old.

Very thin.

Sitting on a hospital bed.

She said:

“My son.”

Nobody moved.

“He has been sick for months.”

Her voice started shaking.

“I leave home before he wakes up.”

“And sometimes there is nothing for him to eat.”

She wiped her face.

“So yesterday, I saw the food in the fridge.”

“I took it home.”

“I was going to bring it back today.”

Our manager looked uncomfortable.

But he didn't say anything.

Then Mrs. Grace added something that nobody expected.

“I wasn't stealing from the company.”

“I was stealing from someone.”

She pointed at the fridge.

“The lunch belonged to the manager's son.”

Everyone turned toward him.

He looked confused.

“My son?”

She nodded.

“Your son leaves food almost every day.”

“He throws it away when he doesn't finish.”

The manager stared at her.

Mrs. Grace continued:

“I thought if I asked, you would say no.”

“So I took what was going to be thrown away.”

Nobody spoke.

Then the manager quietly asked:

“How long has this been happening?”

She looked at him.

“Four months.”

He sat down.

For the first time since I'd known him, he looked completely defeated.

Then he asked:

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Mrs. Grace smiled sadly.

“Because poor people don't always know how to ask rich people for help.”

That sentence changed the entire room.

The manager picked up his phone.

Called someone.

Then looked at Mrs. Grace.

“You're not fired.”

She started crying.

He continued:

“And your son is getting the treatment he needs.”

Nobody touched their lunch that day.

Not because we weren't hungry.

Because suddenly, we were all thinking about how easily we judge someone when we only know half the story.

[HARLEY SPICE @Harleyspice_]

Our family vacation ended on the first night when my dad discovered that someone had booked the wrong hotel.

We arrived at 10 p.m.
Dad showed the receptionist his confirmation.
She frowned.
“Sir, this reservation is for next month.”
Dad laughed.
“No, it isn't.”
She checked again.
“It definitely is.”
Mum looked at him.
“Did you check the dates?”

[HARLEY SPICE @Harleyspice_]

The funeral director stopped the service five minutes before the coffin was closed and said, “Please, everyone, step outside.”

My uncle shouted, “Why?”
He looked terrified.

“I need to speak to the family.”
We followed him into the hallway.

He whispered, “The identification documents don't match.”
My mother started crying.
“What do you mean?”
“The name is correct, but the fingerprints aren't.”

Everyone went silent.

[HARLEY SPICE @Harleyspice_]

My boyfriend got down on one knee at dinner, and before he could propose, my mother shouted, “Don't say yes!”

The entire restaurant went silent.
I stared at her.
“Mum, what are you doing?”

She walked toward our table.

“Ask him where he was last Friday.”
My boyfriend looked confused.
“Why?”
“Just answer.”

[HARLEY SPICE @Harleyspice_]

My wife is always saying I have a special talent for buying things nobody actually needs. 😂

So I came home with this, and she immediately gave me that look. 😒

Then I put the dog in it… and suddenly she was laughing like crazy. KKKK 🐶😂

Finally, one of my purchases has been officially approved. 🤝🤣

[APAJI @apaji_x]

@002Sindirella Hello