#are y'all sick of me yet

[digo3d]

Btw I do plan on making cover art for all the oneshot stories I'm doing so look out for that I just gotta 1. Finish some of em first 2. Finish an art piece I'm making for my ma because I love my ma and she comes first and yes I am a mama's boy /not gender 💃💃💃

[stlispenard]

its the way i've made two different castings for a little life where one is purely actors (because my tiny brain needs to incorporate acting abilities into this madness) and the other is aesthetic and self-indulgent

[slasherscream]

every day i wake up to nothing in the jordan li reader tag

[maudlxne]

me: What if naruto has more subtle fox-like features due to prolonged exposure to kurama's chakra as well as tail transformations? Like enlonged canines, slightly slitted pupils, and an enhanced sense of smell and hearing.

Also me: Tae you're a 27 year old you're too old to be trying to foxify naruto.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I love the new ask game :D

Maybe "You wouldn't." with Bruce/Jason?

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

tysm anon, i'm glad you're loving it! i love that this got requested twice because it was such a fun one. warning that this one is *dark*, it deals with hypnotism/brainwashing and non-con as a result of that. it's *sort of* inspired by Gotham War but is based in pre-Flashpoint and basically my twist on a realistic but fucked up way i think Bruce would try to control Jason psychologically. just 3.3k of Jason suffering. enjoy <3

“Come home, Jason.”

It was a dream Jason had had a thousand times in a thousand ways. Bruce’s hand outstretched, offering Jason a white flag and compassion.

Only this time, it wasn’t a dream.

The cold ground underneath Jason’s palm was real. He could smell the dirt caked under his fingernails as he clenched his fist, panting hard.

He had a gun pointed at Bruce with his other hand. Jason was knocked to the ground, but he wasn’t down.

He was never down; a mutt going belly up. That’d never be him.

For some reason that Jason couldn’t put into words, the gun was shaking in his hand. He never had it in him to actually kill Bruce. But somehow now, his resolve felt more shattered than usual.

“Your home isn’t mine,” Jason said through grit teeth. He could taste his own blood in his mouth, but the fight was already muddled in his head. Was it one of the goons he was fighting or Bruce who’d hit him? He wasn’t sure.

Bruce loomed over Jason. It was a look he practically had patented. Cape billowing, shadow cast over Jason in such a way that Jason felt so impossibly small. He knew all the tricks and how Bruce pulled them off, but that didn’t mean he was immune to them. No matter how much Jason grew and made a name for himself, Bruce could always make him want to shrink into himself.

But he wouldn’t. He refused to hand that weakness over to Bruce.

“It always has been your home,” Bruce’s voice was far too gentle for his immovable stance and shadow-hidden face. Jason didn’t like the contrast. “Just for the night.” He took a step toward Jason, hand close enough for Jason to bat it away with his gun.

He knew this dance. Like a song that Jason had never actually heard, but still seemed to be woven into his soul. A long-forgotten melody as he descended into this hell. Bruce was reaching into Jason’s mind to pull out all of Jason’s worst nightmares about how he rolled over like a dog and gave in.

It made Jason’s lip curl in disgust, even as cold ice dripped down his spine.

“Go to hell,” Jason snarled. He didn’t sound how he wanted to. His voice was too high and it was like he was Robin again, pre-pubescent and looking at Bruce like he hung the moon. That moon was bleeding all over them, now. “I will shoot you if you don’t back off,” he warned. Not lethally, they both knew that unspoken caveat. But that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t acutely aware of every weak point of Bruce’s armor and very ready to give Bruce a new scar for his misplaced nostalgia-tainted love.

“No, you won’t,” Bruce said calmly. Not as an order, but as a simple fact.

Jason scoffed. “Like hell-”

Bruce whistled, a sharp and high note that made Jason’s brain nearly split in half.

And he-

He dropped his gun.

It tumbled out of his hand with his palm forced open. A muscle reaction that felt the same as a doctor knocking a hammer against Jason’s knee to make his leg kick out. So out of control that he just stared at his open, empty hand for a moment.

“What the fuck?” Jason spat out, blinking a few times. “Was that an EMP or something?” He hadn’t been looking at Bruce’s face. It sounded like a whistle, but Bruce could’ve activated some high-tech weapon through his gauntlet or-

Or something. Some sort of Bat-gadget that used a magnet to pull the gun out of Jason’s hand, or whatever other mcguffin Bruce had access to. That was the only logical answer that fit easily into Jason’s mind.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Why was Jason’s heart beating so fast?

He’d felt this fear before, in a dream.

Jason swallowed to keep his throat from closing up. He pushed himself to his feet and tried to grab a dagger from his belt.

He tried. And tried. It was right there, inches from his fingers twitching at his sides. Jason knew he was in control of his body. He could shift his weight and stretch his limbs and crack his neck.

But he couldn’t seem to grab a weapon.

Jason made a fist instead. He couldn’t raise it for the punch.

“You’re okay,” Bruce promised, trying to soothe the panic that was crawling up Jason’s throat. He reached up and stroked Jason’s face and Jason couldn’t seem to stop him. He wanted to pull away from the disgusting false kindness. But he fucking couldn’t. “We’re going home now.” Bruce’s tone was too calm, too even. Perfectly soothing and unbothered by Jason’s growing panic.

“No,” Jason choked out. He still had his words and could fight with them, at least. “What the fuck did you do, you bastard?”

Bruce’s expression changed but was impossible to get a full read on, hidden by the cowl. “What I had to. To keep you safe and bring you home.”

“I’m not yours,” Jason put as much force as he could into every word. All his hate, all his rage, dripped like a venom that was keeping him alive. He used his hatred to hide the fear that was swirling his thoughts, making them harder and harder to make sense of.

Something was wrong. All his worst nightmares of Jason just giving in and agreeing to go home with Bruce as an obedient little soldier were coming to life. Like sick prophecies he couldn’t escape.

Something was very wrong. Jason’s whole body was starting to shake and he instinctively reached for his chest, trying to find what was wrong. Something was lodged deep inside of him that didn’t belong. Something that Jason had to pull out before it took deeper root and he was- he was lost to some terrible unseen thing lurking in the corner of his mind. Whatever it was, Jason needed it out now before-

Bruce clicked his tongue. Jason was at least certain this time the sound came directly from Bruce, watching his mouth move to form the sharp clicking noise. Distinct and-

Familiar.

The fight or flight bled out of Jason’s limbs. His body calmed, even as his mind was still fighting the feeling. Muted and distant now, but still definitely there. Jason fumbled between the lines of a forced calm and natural panic. He didn’t know which one he wanted, which was the right one to be feeling.

The calm was entrancing. Hypnotizing, even. A siren trying to lull Jason under the waves so he would just sink into the current. The water was so warm and inviting, promising an existence where Jason wouldn’t have to feel so much pain all the time-

Hypnotizing.

It was hypnotizing.

Jason vaguely remembered Talia mentioning a hypnotism expert that Bruce once knew but she couldn’t convince Jason to train with them. He thought it sounded like a bunch of pseudoscience bullshit. Everyone knew hypnotism was a dumb Placebo.

Everyone it seemed, except Jason’s body. Which felt like it was trying to sink into the dirt under the weight of forced calm Bruce had wrapped around him.

“How-” Jason’s mouth was full of cotton. “Did you brainwash me, or something?”

“Conditioning,” Bruce corrected. How was he so casual about it? “It took months to make sure you wouldn’t notice. I did what I had to, to keep you safe from yourself.” He dared to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, pulling Jason’s pliant body forward until his forehead was pressed into Bruce’s shoulder. “This isn’t a punishment, Jason. I need you to understand, I didn’t do this to save Gotham. I did this to save you.”

He made the words sound like a love confession. They were the most terrifying words Jason had ever heard. They sounded more like a prison sentence Jason’s soul had been damned to then something sweet.

Jason managed to shake his head. His ears were ringing as he tried so hard to fight against the siren song. Bruce’s body was so warm. His words were barbed wire wrapped in a lullaby. They pierced Jason so deep he was sure he had to be bleeding everywhere. He could taste it, after all. Nothing made sense.

“You wouldn’t,” Jason whispered, almost delirious with how surreal it all felt. His tether to reality was cut cleanly by his puppeteer, razor-thin wires shackling him in place. A promise.

Bruce dared to press a kiss against Jason’s temple. “I already have.”

Jason went limp. Bruce caught him around the waist, easily picking him up to hold Jason gingerly.

Like a lover.

The nightmares of Bruce’s touch tasted so real.

Oh, fuck.

The nightmares.

“You’ve done this before,” Jason realized, tears of betrayal pricking in his eyes. The nightmares were real. They were distant, hypnotized memories he couldn’t quite reach in the back of his mind. Locked away until Bruce decided to unlock this conditioned, obedient side of Jason to play with. Using him like a toy.

Bruce was a psychotic bastard who always went too far.

But this. This was something new. An incomprehensible horror Jason could’ve never imagined Bruce doing. That was why they had to be nightmares, not memories. Bruce never would’ve done that to Jason. Jason never would’ve just laid there and taken it from Bruce. He wasn’t some lap dog for Bruce to domesticate.

He wasn’t.

This wasn’t real obedience. It was forced submission.

This wasn’t real at all. It couldn’t be.

This wasn’t Jason.

He wouldn’t have let this happen to himself.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Bruce was wiping the tears away. Daring to be fucking gentle, like he wasn’t perfectly aware of Jason’s inner turmoil eating him alive.

“Let’s go home,” Bruce said, adjusting Jason into a bridal carry and ignoring as Jason’s shallow breaths gave way to soft sobs.

The worst part was, Jason could feel himself slipping deeper into the corners of his mind. It was disturbingly easy to fall for the drowning nothingness that quieted all his rebelling emotions tearing him apart.

It was easy to give in to Bruce’s conditioning.

Before Jason knew it, he was tucked into the Batmobile, limbs completely immobile as they drove down familiar streets.

The anger melted away first.

Then the fear.

All those feelings left and Jason was just-

Empty.

He was going home.

Moments of clarity came to Jason in short, chaotic bursts. The first one came to him as Bruce was stripping him of his clothes, throwing them to the ground without a care in the world, desperate to consume Jason with hungry hands.

He could see Bruce’s face, now. It was all Jason could see.

Those awful, wanting eyes. Looking at Jason like he was just another toy of Bruce’s.

“What…” Jason’s words were slurred and barely fit in his mouth. “Stop- Bruce, stop-”

“Shh,” Bruce pressed his mouth against Jason’s and Jason was sinking again, unable to stop his body from reacting and kissing back. “I’ve got you.” The words were already so far away Jason barely heard them, even pressed against his mouth.

Bruce tasted like peppermint and sweet compliance.

The second clear moment was the longest one.

It came to Jason with a gasp, chest heaving for air as if something had been choking him.

He wasn’t being choked, though.

He was being fucked.

The gasp turned into a startled moan when a long thrust drove right into Jason’s prostate, his entire body jerking. Jason’s arms were wrapped around Bruce’s back, clinging to him like some kind of needy animal as Bruce drove into Jason’s body. A mutt with his belly up, compliant, like he was afraid of.

“Stop fighting it,” Bruce murmured into Jason’s ear, immediately knowing that Jason was lucid.

How could Jason stop fighting when he didn’t know he was fighting in the first place? He wasn’t in control of the mess in his head pulling him in too many directions.

He was so wrought out that all he could do was cry, anguished.

Jason wanted to push Bruce off of him. He didn’t want this pleasure. Jason’s arms moved sluggishly, but at least seemed to obey him, pushing weakly at Bruce’s shoulder.

“No, no no no,” Jason chanted the only thing he could get out. A mantra, a plea, and a prayer all in one. Every thrust rattled his bones with new, yet familiar feelings that were too real.

The parts of Jason’s body not under his control bloomed under Bruce’s touch. His back was arching and he was grinding onto Bruce’s cock. It made no sense, how he tried to claw at Bruce’s skin while chasing more and more of Bruce deep inside him.

It was where Bruce belonged, an insidious voice whispered in Jason’s ear. Where Jason belonged, too.

No, Jason fought back in his own mind.

God please, no.

Bruce just kept moving and fucking Jason. As if it wasn’t rape.

It was rape, wasn’t it? Jason’s consent wasn’t real. Bruce had made it up.

All of this was made up. Jason would never let Bruce do this to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Bruce soothed, pressing flowering kisses down Jason’s throat. Jason tried to turn his head away but he had nowhere to go, trapped underneath Bruce.

“No,” Jason repeated. He hit Bruce in the chest when a particular thrust made Jason’s own cock twitch and a moan rolled through his body.

Jason was hard. There was already precum dripping out of him.

Would he come like this? Did he have words, when he was completely under? In some of Jason’s nightmare-memories, he could remember begging Bruce for more. More touch, more pleasure, more orgasms.

That was what Bruce had reduced Jason to. A wanton whore who didn’t even have control of his own body. Jason violently shook his head, trying to wiggle more control into his limbs. He managed to just barely kick Bruce’s leg. Not hard, but enough to make Bruce stumble, catching himself with a hand against the mattress. A hand that wasn’t touching Jason anymore, making him sigh in relief. He could keep this momentum.

He just had to hold onto the control-

“I love you,” Bruce said, voice silky and going down Jason’s psyche like smooth whiskey. The burning aftertaste was there, trying to start a fire strong enough for Jason to fight back with, but Jason just swallowed.

Those words were the needed trigger to push Jason back down. And worse, this time it wasn't a gentle descent. He felt like he was being smothered by a pillow inside his own head. Jason was pretty sure he actually screamed before his body was taken from him.

Jason only managed to give Bruce a parting glare.

Lucidity came for Jason again with water raining down on his body. Hot enough to steam up the space, making Jason’s muscles sag.

He was in a shower. Leaning against Bruce. Practically clinging to him like a fucking child.

He could feel the soreness in a deep, disgusting place Jason never wanted to know Bruce could reach. Two gentle hands were massaging shampoo into Jason’s hair. The scent that Bruce used, not Jason.

Even when all this was over, Jason still wouldn’t be able to get Bruce’s scent off his skin.

Bruce had to be doing it on purpose.

“I hate you,” Jason spat the words out as fast as he could. He knew he was going to slip away again.

He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Acceptance was an ugly pill Jason hated swallowing with every fiber of his being.

He had never hated himself more.

Hating Bruce was an easy second nature. But this level of self-hatred was new, even for Jason.

He was so tired of feeling it. Of feeling at all.

Bruce didn’t use words this time. Jason’s ugly confession wasn’t acknowledged. Warm fingers just pressed into a specific spot against the back of Jason’s neck and he was boneless again.

Jason’s last thought was wondering just how many triggers Bruce had programmed into him.

He probably didn’t want to know.

Jason’s final moment of awareness came in Bruce’s arms. He was pressed against Bruce’s chest, finding himself tracing idle patterns across Bruce’s skin while Bruce was reading something on his tablet.

There was cold, bitter anger freezing Jason’s chest over.

But mostly, there was numbness.

Emptiness.

Jason didn’t say anything this time. He didn’t see the point when his words meant nothing to Bruce. He just glared into nothing, hand going completely rigid, then curling into a useless fist.

He didn’t want to know how many times he had been here before.

Bruce leaned down and kissed Jason’s brow. Jason wrinkled his nose but gave no other reaction. He kept his body perfectly still, even with it in his control.

“Do you want to remember?” Bruce asked.

Confusion clouded Jason’s muddy senses. “What?”

Bruce brushed stray hair out of Jason’s eyes and tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into Bruce’s lovingly unforgiving eyes. “Do you want to remember this time? You don’t have to remember if you’re not ready.”

Not ready. Jason didn’t like how those two words were heavy and had so many implications that they turned his stomach.

“No,” Jason couldn’t stop himself from telling the truth. Bruce had asked if he wanted to remember.

And Jason didn’t want this. He needed to remember. But more than anything, he didn’t want to remember this. It made his skin crawl.

He wanted this to be a bad dream.

The logic side of Jason’s brain was screaming and begging to remember this. If Jason knew this was real when he was away from Bruce, then he could get far, far away. He could run.

He could go anywhere.

Bruce hummed and nodded. With understanding Jason could feel down to his core, an awful thing.

He’d done this before, after all. The routine was down pat, for Bruce.

And for Jason, it was a new horror that he was going to learn over and over again.

Maybe Bruce got some kind of sick enjoyment out of this wretched cycle. Jason knew Bruce’s end goal, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

He couldn’t. Admitting it made it real.

And this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Instead of slipping under the edge of conditioning, Jason just slipped into sleep. His body relaxed and Bruce pulled a blanket around him, tucking him in and murmuring something Jason didn’t quite catch.

Jason drifted into a dreamless sleep.

With a swear and a jolt, Jason woke up. His heart was pounding and he grabbed his chest, breathing hard. He sat up, swinging his legs over his shitty bed in his shitty warehouse.

“Fucking nightmares,” Jason grumbled, getting his body to calm down. The nightmare was already slipping away. It was something so ridiculous that he didn’t bother chasing it. Something about Bruce touching him and Jason just letting him.

A snort came out of Jason’s chest at the thought. He stood up, shaking himself free of stupid night terrors.

Jason rolled his eyes and wandered over toward his fridge, mind already drifting to think about the case he was working on, looking over the board on his wall to give his attention to something that actually deserved it.

Like he’d ever let Bruce get close to him, Jason wasn’t just some mutt belly-up starved for attention.

Over his dead body.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

My thoughts on jewish politics are nuanced and convoluted in many ways, but if somebody comes at me with the idea of categorizing my thoughts as being in line with the "good jews" or the "bad jews," you've just got to assume I'm not One Of The Good Ones.

[lovethisfatcryptid]

🧡💛🍂🍁🌤️🍁🍂🧡💛

[stormyoceans]

if tomorrow this will be gone, i just want y'all to know it's been an honor and a privilege to boop and be booped by you <3

[lucienarcheron]

Tales of the Fox & the Fawn - XV

Season I - A series of short snippets to fill my Elucien heart.

Masterlist

Only the Beginning 

Elain hummed quietly to herself, adjusting the flower crown on her head as she waited for Lucien to come home.  He had noticed something had been off about her lately and while he hadn’t pushed her to share, Elain knew it was bothering him not to know.

Nothing was wrong, of course. Elain was just trying to surprise him and he was terrible at waiting to be surprised. She was also terrible at hiding surprises.

Elain was seated by their little patio table in the garden and she tapped it for Cinnamon to climb up and settle next to the gift beautifully wrapped on the table.

“Now sit still, Cinnamon. This has to be perfect.” Elain mumbled to their cat who only meowed in response as Elain settled a custom-made flower crown on the cat’s head. By now, Cinnamon knew better than to rip it off —Elain had trained her well.

The two waited, Elain closing her eyes, letting the afternoon sun wash over her. Moments later, Lucien’s voice called out.

“Elain?”

“In the garden, love.” she replied and turned to face him when he neared, smiling. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips then paused.

“What’s this?” he asked, his gaze shifting curiously between the wrapped box to Cinnamon and her flower crown.

Suddenly nervous, Elain fiddled with her own. “It’s a surprise. Cinnamon and I put it together for you.” she replied and Lucien chuckled.

“You and Cinnamon, hm?”

“We’re a team.” Elain said, petting the cat slowly. “Open it.”

Lucien met her gaze and she knew he could see how nervous she was. Though she had no reason to be. There was nothing to be nervous about, that much she knew. Still.

His hand came to rest over hers. “You alright? Things have been odd for a few days…is there anything you want to talk about it?” he asked her quietly and she shook her head with a chuckle.

“No. I want you to open your gift. I — you’ll understand when you open it.”

Lucien looked at her for another heartbeat then brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “Alright.”

She smiled at him and gently pushed the box towards him. Lucien opened the lid and then looked at her curiously.

“You’re this nervous to give me a flower crown?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“There’s more under it! Put it on then look again!” She urged him and he immediately obeyed, adjusting his own flower crown on his head and then he paused.

Lucien paused and Elain bit her lip, holding her breath.  

It was like time had stopped and Elain’s heart was beating way too fast for it to be alright, her eyes never wavering off her mate, who was still staring inside the box.

“Well?” she finally whispered after a lifetime of silence and Lucien slowly looked up at her.

“This is real?” he asked her in a hoarse whisper and she nodded, beaming.

“Real.”

For inside the box, Elain had placed an additional flower crown. A smaller one. With a card settled in the middle of the crown that said: Roses are red, violets are blue. Inside me, beats two hearts for you.

“We’re having a baby.” Lucien stated and Elain nodded.

“Yes.”

“We’re having a baby.” he repeated, a finger pointing between the two of them, and Elain nodded again with a laugh.

“Yes!”

“We’re having a baby!”  Lucien exclaimed, shooting out of his seat, causing Cinnamon to dart off the patio table with a screech.

“Yes!”  Elain confirmed with a laugh, happy tears lining her eyes and Lucien let out a noise of disbelief before falling to his knees in front of his wife. He leaned in, cupping her face, and kissed her furiously then pulled back, still holding her face.

“You’re pregnant with our baby.” he whispered to her, his face lit with joy and she sniffled with a watery smile, her hands coming over his.

“I found out last week but swore Madja to secrecy.” Elain whispered in response. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I — I am so happy. I don’t think words could — Elain — a baby — “ he stuttered and she giggled, leaning in to kiss his lips softly.

“I know…I know.” she replied, words failing both of them at the moment.

The two could only gaze at each other, eyes full of love, hope, excitement, and joy all in one.

“I am so in love with you. And thrilled for our future.”

“Good, because there’s more.”

“More?”

“I had a vision a few days ago.” she said slowly and Lucien’s back straightened.

“And?”

“Our dream of a house full of bouncy, beautiful kids?”

“Yes?” he asked breathlessly.

“It’s going to come true.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Are they happy?”

“All I saw was laughter and love.” she answered softly. “But I didn’t need a vision to tell me that’s how it’ll be.”

And Lucien couldn’t hold back anymore. He rested his head in his wife’s lap and broke down in tears. Tears of joy, that he was going to be given such a beautiful gift. A chance to have a family. A family that will only know love.

And this was only the beginning.

[malaierba]

Thinking about Karamatsu/Nozomi whole looking through some web weavings, and if I ever write something for them (currently in the phase of trying to come up with key events and organise them chronologically so it makes sense, thematically) I think I'd like this to be one of the take aways

In the event of a bad ending (dunno if I'm strong enough for that though 🫠 SHE CAN CHANGE HIM WITHOUT DYING im better than that), I hope that Karamatsu still finds it in himself to stop being so passive about his life. Like,

To stop waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect answer to dawn on him, and instead take life by reins and... Just start being an active participant in his own life. To embrace self-determination and the risk of committing to something that may not pan out but still forces you to take conscious and mindful action every day.

[kalisbaby]

Important question:

Your best friend sends this pic of her new man:

[bunnihearted]

im the one society marked as avoidant yet im always the only one who wanna fucking talk things thru. y'all are a fkn joke!!! im sry but u rlly are 💀 im the avoidant one. the one scared of conflict nd afraid of talking.... yet im always the one staying and begging to talk while the other one just leaves or is a wall nd refuses to talk abt it 😹😹😹😹😹

[dynmghts]

i did NOT linger on ch402-405 long enough because as far as i can tell katsuki brought himself back right before all might was brought over by all for one, right? but with the distance, he wouldn't have seen them, nor did he have any sufficient means of closing such a distance THAT fast. so how did he know to go to the ledge and observe below?

either those on the field told him where izuku was, or he heard izuku scream for all might. or BOTH - which is more plausible, because yes, he can trust izuku will win, but with all might in danger and dragged toward ua by all for one, it put everything in jeopardy.

and so what do you mean katsuki bakugou, dynamight, symbol of victory, likely heard izuku's cry for help from below, and charged straight to him - trusted that he would be pointed in the right direction? what do you MEAN he probably heard the desperation in izuku's voice the moment he breathed life again, and his first thoughts were; izuku is in trouble. all might is in trouble.

katsuki didn't even give himself time to live again before he went into another life-or-death fight, because what follows is that he doesn't just save all might from all for one's clutches. he goes to end all for one so he'll never achieve his goal.

because those two people are the largest testament to the man he's become, and he'll defend them with his life - like he did before.

i am unwell.

[swiftfootedachilles]

ok i left the servers im in. ive decided im just done trying to interact with most people and im just gonna stick to the like. 8 people that still follow/positively interact with me. if youre seeing this youre okay but fuck everyone else i guess

[maudlxne]

Going to bed but goodness i am gay for her.

[cunninghamchrissie]

i'm stuck in limbo and i can't get out and i'm tired of being told i should just try harder