#before i crawl off to bed
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nihilaraarchived · 7 months ago
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kuro's unabashed nihilism & severe lack of faith, vs people who are deeply devoted to their god, and have things that make life worth living ---
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screamingcrows · 7 days ago
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please someone, anyone, lend me your excitement that I might actually finish a wip today
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jimmyspades · 9 months ago
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benevolenterrancy · 10 months ago
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been trying to help a colleague with some set design pieces so enjoy some Vaguely Sinister Nature
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garrettwrites · 5 months ago
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I see so many posts about cats being dumb that I honestly question if the countless cats I've been around my whole life are/were real or not. I've only ever met one dumb cat. Every single other one would win at chess if their far superior brain, geared towards bigger achievements, could spare time to comprehend the rules.
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cypric-rat-hyperfixation · 1 year ago
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coping with the fact that there's a bug in my room but it's 2:00 a.m. so I can't just go get my neighbors like I did last time >_<
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bookclubforghosts · 11 months ago
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Depression is really kicking my ass recently but I will persist regardless
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ear-motif · 1 year ago
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what is burnout and is it real
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depresseddepot · 2 years ago
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not to sound dramatic or anything but magic is real and I know its real because I swore a contract w the spiders in my room about a year ago to never purposefully harm them or let them come to harm so long as they ate all the other bugs in my room and now anytime someone purposefully kills a spider near me I am momentarily possessed and have to literally restrain myself from tackling the person who did it
#this post is meant to be silly but to be clear i am AFRAID of spiders#so for me to now have a knee jerk reaction to injure MYSELF to protect a spider as a result of an ''agreement'' is. fascinating#like. did i make an actual contract w these spiders? im cool w it if so but i didnt think bodily possession would be included#the agreement is like a year and a half or so old at this point but honestly 10/10 would reccomend. i have almost no bugs in my room now#and i actually see LESS spiders than i did before#we are now Allies#anyways this post was prompted by finding the biggest fucking spider crawling up my sock#and having the mental fortitude to force my fear down like i literally swallowed it and took her outside#normally if they're small i just let them disappear (out of sight out of mind)#and if they're big (wolf spiders are common here) the rules are: if you aren't bothering me i won't bother you#like i had a spider (not wolf but similarly big) that lived in an unused closet for a while#and every morning he would crawl across my sharp shitty ceiling very slowly and then crawl back#and like. he wasn't bothering me. he was just going for a walk#however: touching me or my stuff is off limits#my bed and my desk and my body are places they are Not allowed#i dont kill them still obv but they will be escorted outside#the big big ones i always take outside bc they would die indoors anyways (not enough birds? or whatever they eat. theyre huge)#sorry i got carried away#swear agreements with the spiders in your house and profit#get possessed occassionally but its fine#i also have an unspoken contract with yellowjackets but nothing formal yet#one day when i have a yard ill have contracts w lots of stuff. yellowjackets and bees and stray cats and snakes and possums#i don't like talking to people but i do like creatures (so long as they aren't touching me (<- prone to the heeby jeebies))
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dekuneho · 3 months ago
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no one else's ☆ ( ​thirdyear!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | suggestive
Kirishima taps Katsuki on the shoulder very gently, looking embarrassed as he chokes out, “Your girlfriend fell asleep on the couch.”
Katsuki would’ve brushed it off with a snap that anyone could use the fucking couch who gives a fuck, but his eyes slide to Kirishima’s other arm holding a disgruntled Mineta up. Immediately, Katsuki’s gut twists in displeasure, the pencil in his grasp snapping in half.
“Did you fucking do something?” Katsuki hisses out, yanking Mineta’s collar to face the full brunt of his sneer.
“No!” Mineta cries out, having the nerve to sound disappointed. “No, I didn’t, dude. Get off me.”
And before Katsuki could kill Mineta right then and there, Kirishima swerves him out of the way. Don’t get your hero license revoked over him, Kirishima’s eyes seem to say.
“He’s telling the truth, man, don’t worry about it.” Kirishima then glares soundly at Mineta, disappointment evident. “He was acting weird, though. That’s why I got him.”
“Traitor,” Mineta says, wriggling uselessly mid-air.
“I’ll kill you,” Katsuki swears to him, before storming off, each step heavy with pure murder.
The rest of the class is smarter than Mineta. They avert their gazes and mind their business — or it could be that they can sense the unadulterated rage emanating from every pore of his body.
Yet as he reaches you, every trace of that same rage dissipates into the air. His eyes outline your body, dead to the world, shorts hiked up with one leg curved — laid unaware. No wonder some freak like Mineta wanted to prey on it.
Katsuki sighs. "Always giving me damn trouble," he mutters to your sleeping figure, snorting when there's an answering snore.
He heaves you up and off the couch, arms hooking under your neck and the back of your knees. Katsuki pushes past the living room, ignoring the curious stares of his classmates. They all know where he's headed — straight to his room.
You awake to a pinch on your thigh.
When you come to, Katsuki is staring at you heavily, hovering above you with your head between his hands.
"Kats'ki?" you croak out, words stringing together. "Wha's…"
Katsuki begins to crawl down, and down, until his knees hit the floor; until he's face to face with your legs. You're still swimming through the sluggishness limbo of being half-awake, lagging behind only moments after Katsuki. You feel his grip on your ankle; it tickles, it's warm.
He lowers his head and pins your knee down with a searing kiss. The sensation spreads to your entire body. You shudder, toes curling. Katsuki smiles against you, his hands sliding up to your thighs.
"Too early," you whine. But you don't push him off; you press against him closer.
"'s already 6 AM," Katsuki says, pushing your legs open.
The touch of cold air and the sporadic puffs of Katsuki's breath have you sinking deeper into the bed, pleasure crawling in every part of your body that he's taking by force, in the gentlest way possible.
Katsuki latches his mouth onto the inside of your thigh, inching deeper at your gasp. You suck air through your teeth, taking every control you have left not to snap your legs shut and force Katsuki out. When he pulls off, your thigh is left with a clear bruise. He doesn't stop there — he dives in again on a different point.
"As soon as we get our ass here," Katsuki murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your evening-chilled skin, "I'm taking you out; we'll go apartment-hunting."
"W-what?"
"And you can wear whatever the fuck you want," he continues, licking at the mark, "or nothin' at all — I don't give a shit. No one else, just us. You hear me?"
You sit up, nearly knocking your knee against Katsuki's face. "You're asking me to move in with you?"
Katsuki scowls, the telltale sign of a blush creeping to his face. "You have other plans?"
"No, no," you cup his cheek, kissing the pout of his lips; "never, if it's not with you."
Katsuki appears satisfied, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You draw away from each other with a stuttered gasp, heat pooling in your stomach at Katsuki's delighted gaze. "No turning back," he whispers. "Got that? This'll be no one else's."
Dizzy with need, you can only say, "Yes, yes. No one else's but yours, Katsuki. Now, please go back in between my legs."
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sideeve · 11 months ago
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⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”
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﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru
﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban
﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well
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GOJO SATORU (3 days)
“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.
"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.
it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.
“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.
RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)
no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.
“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.
one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.
how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.
he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.
KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)
his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.
due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.
"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.
he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.
"seems like i have some things to make up for."
CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)
"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.
"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.
"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.
"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.
TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)
"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.
you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.
"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.
he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.
GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)
you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.
he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.
"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.
"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.
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simonbrain · 2 months ago
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it doesn't matter how quietly you attempt to get off at night; your lieutenant is always listening, always grumpy about the pretty sounds disturbing his slumber.
you were embarrassed when he brought it up to you (keep it down, can't fuckin' sleep with oll tha' racket), so you opted to not use your vibrator the next night, instead using your fingers like some lady from the 1800's. it wasn't as efficient, but it did the job, and you were knocked out after a few orgasms.
you think you're doing good, as he doesn't confront you about your nightly activities for a few days after that. not until one morning when he pulls you over to an obscured area outside, not paying any mind to your stumbling and hissing.
even with the mask on, you can tell he's scowling. "how many times do i 'ave to tell you to keep it down?" he grumbles, peering down at you through golden eyelashes. his head tilts as he speaks, and you have to force yourself to not squeeze your thighs together in front of your superior officer. "i can hear tha' wet cunt through the walls every night—are you tha' thirsty for it, pet?" a finger clips onto your belt loop, and you're being tugged closer, a chuckle rumbling from him when he takes notice of how flustered you're getting.
you've never wanted to explode into tiny pieces more in your life than this moment. your cheeks feel hot, and you can only stare up at him and watch as his gaze roams down your body. heated. predatory.
"i— i don't want—" you try to deny what you know is inevitable because ghost always gets his way, but it's thrilling to watch how he pushes his body against yours, the smell of him overpowering your rational thoughts. he only peels the mask high enough to free his mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat, a gloved hand finding its way to the front of your pants.
that night, when you crawl into bed with a fully charged vibrator, warmth already swirling in your belly, you think about how ghost's hands felt on your body. how he so meanly nudged the fat head of his cock in until he was fully sheathed, stretching you so thin you swear he was going to split you apart.
("there we go," he coos—or rather snarls at you, thick fingers filling up your mouth because you were whining too loud for his liking. "knew you wanted this fuckin' cunt stuffed full o'me," he groans while pawing at your chest, harsh pants hitting your ear. "tha's why you're so loud, innit? nasty fuckin' thing.")
how he kissed you like he was trying to consume you, licking into your mouth with such fervour, you were surprised he hadn't already burst into flames. he resembles a brick more than an actual human sometimes, but patience has always been his strongest quality.
you really shouldn't be surprised when ghost pours into your room while you're making yourself dizzy with thoughts of him, your brain liquifying on the pillow from the constant delicious vibrations against your throbbing clit. the sound of the door being kicked shut behind him startles you as he stalks over to your bed.
"i'm starting to think you like pissing me off." he growls softly, the bed squeaking underneath his weight. the vibrator is still buzzing against you, and you swallow when his eyes drop down to the soft, wet mess between your legs. "get on your fuckin' knees, girl."
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screampied · 2 months ago
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you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.
“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.
he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.
although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.
“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”
“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.
again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.
“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.
to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—
all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.
“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”
“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.
satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.
it’s moving slow. . just like time was.
whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”
you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.
as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.
“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.
the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .
it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.
life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.
“i . . won.”
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dialdrunk · 8 months ago
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ellie vs ticks and the no good very bad day
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rossithepixie · 8 months ago
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I am so fuckin eepy today.
I have asks I’ll respond to tomorrow. For now i gotta just toss myself into bed
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lilacxquartz · 15 days ago
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love you, love you, love you;
mr. crawling x reader
plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k
a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.
masterlist • ao3
Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.
Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.
And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.
Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).
So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.
You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.
Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.
You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.
You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…
That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.
That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.
So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.
You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.
The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.
Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.
Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.
It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.
Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.
Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.
“Close, close, close,” he repeated.
It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.
Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).
Words were never the problem, it seemed.
Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.
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