#definitely will be adding this

[welcome-to-the-districts]

New Concept

The higher ups of the Apollo Victoria train yard would definitely collaborate with certain hotels so guests can get a really interesting experience. They know Greaseball and Rusty are a big draw for tourists, so they would definitely want to cash in and probably offer an alternative to tours of the yard.

The hotels have exclusive access to the property of the train yards, offering a view in the train yard letting people watch the rolling stock, which could be a potential dream come true for train spotters or potential fans of Greaseball or Rusty as a whole. It will definitely be expensive, but worth it. Rusty is the most engaging with guests, often trying to play with them on the other side of the glass. Greaseball does enjoy the attention, but he’s not too interested in interacting with hotel guests, but if there are kids in the hotel room, expect to see Greaseball spending hours by the hotel room and basically becoming a teddy bear of a diesel. Greaseball loves to interact with the kids and is known to be gentle and rather protective over them, so kids are definitely going to have a blast, especially if Greaseball calls his gang over, cue a bunch of intimidating diesels becoming absolute softies towards the kids.

There are definitely options for free tours if the guests would prefer. The tour is essentially a VIP tour, which would cost extra without the hotel room booking, possibly allowing guests to potentially interact with the rolling stock, but it’s not exactly guaranteed as their schedules change frequently. Most of the tour guides are rolling stock handlers, people specifically trained to handle and monitor the rolling stock during events. Mike was one of the favored guides when Greaseball was given the day off, giving people a chance to ask Mike questions and if they’re lucky, interact with Greaseball himself.

Literally and shamelessly based off of this, specifically the first and second lodges:

[abnomi]

been trying to get back into animation

original gif below ^^ teehee!

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike and Michael meet their younger selves..

[yeoldenews]

A selection of strange and cryptic personal ads from The New York Herald, 1860s to 1890s. 14/?

[nytephox]

Oooooo the fandoms this could work on seem endless. 🤣

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic: 1/3

-> Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: lots of head trauma/brain injury/recovery stuff.

Steve wakes up in the hospital with someone snoring loudly on his leg, mouth open, drool getting soaked up into the scratchy hospital blanket over him.

Steve just stares.

It’s… Freddie? No, that’s not right... Eddie! Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, known delinquent and drug dealer… resting his head on Steve’s lap.

What the hell…?

Steve reaches up with a wobbly, IV-ridden hand to clumsily pat along his head, but instead of meeting messy hair, he meets a thick wad of bandages. He flinches when he hits an especially tender spot.

It’s not much but it’s enough to wake Eddie Munson up with a jolt, and a random jumble of words that sounded something like, “the dice have spoken!”, but Steve can’t be sure. Not with the sharp ringing still going off inside his skull.

“Steve? Steve! Oh thank fuck, Jesus H. Christ, you scared the ever loving shit out of me.” Eddie stood and grabbed at one of Steve’s shoulders, shaking him enough to elicit another wince.

“Oh, damn, sorry. I’m like a fucking bull in a china shop here, man. There’s way too much expensive, breakable shit here. I’m not used to it. I accidentally ripped your IV out the other day... Fuck. The nurses hate my guts.” Eddie chuckles, eyes wide and solely on Steve, talking like they were old friends or something.

But that can’t be right. Steve doesn’t remember saying more than two words to Eddie Munson during the entire time he knew he even existed, and even then it was just to discuss weed prices.

“For real though, talk to me Harrington, how you feelin’, hm? Loopy? Gonna yak again? Apparently they got you on the good stuff,” Eddie flicks a liquid filled bag hanging above Steve and shakes his head, “but they keep cutting you back. Dicks.”

Steve’s eyes try and follow Eddie’s erratic movements but his eyes ache the more he moves them. He blinks against the harsh fluorescents and tries to open his mouth. And thank God, Eddie Munson seems to take this as a sign and shut up.

“What happened?” Steve finally croaks.

One of Eddie’s brows jumps. “You don’t remember?”

Steve gives his head a small shake. Did Eddie hit him with his car or something? Is that why he’s sleeping at his bedside and talking to him like they’re buddies?

“You fell, Stevie.” Eddie makes a whistling noise and mimicks something falling with his hands, then makes a crashing sound when his hand lands on Steve’s bandaged head. “Like a coconut out of a tree. Landed right on that big ol’ melon of yours. There was blood everywhere. It scared the shit out of me and the kids. Especially when you wouldn’t wake up.”

Steve’s throat feels like sandpaper, but he manages to swallow, his throat clicking as he did, and gets out, “The kids?”

Eddie seems to notice, even before Steve can ask, and reaches for a water bottle with a straw already in it, and half chewed. Eddie’s own, no doubt. Against his better judgment, Steve accepts it when Eddie offers it to him. He was just so goddamn thirsty.

“Don’t worry, they’re all fine. They were just shaken up. I’ll radio the little gremlins and give ‘em the good news in a sec.” Eddie’s smile falters a little, seeming lost for words. Like he wants to say something, but can’t quite get it out.

Steve finishes swallowing his few, meager gulps of water before he asks, “What is it?”

“Don’t freak out—“ Eddie begins.

And, okay, that’s exactly the thing you tell someone before they freak the fuck out. Steve’s stomach is subject to a growing, sluggish panic. “What? Dude, tell me—“

“It’s your hair.” Eddie seems genuinely pained at having to deliver this crushing of a blow to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

Steve can hear the beeping from the monitors he’s hooked up to begin to pick up speed as his heart begins racing. “My hair?”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, it’ll grow back! They just had to take a little bit off where the stitches went, you can hardest notice it—well, that’s a fucking lie, you could spot that landing strip from space—but I think if you part it to the other side it won’t look so… y’know.”

“No, dude, I don’t know.” Steve says, eyes wide, brows pinched.

“Like a drunk toddler took a pair of rusty kitchen shears to your mop.” Eddie says, huffing out a nervous sort of laugh.

Steve groans, half due to the bastardization that’s happened to his favorite feature, and half due to the migraine that’s looming on his horizon.

“You’re still pretty, Stevie, don’t worry.” Eddie grins, eyebrows raised, like he’s trying to be cute or something.

That weirdest part is, it’s kind of working.

Steve must have hit his head really, really hard.

The doctors eventually come in and perform all sorts of tests, and he tries his best to comply with them and jump through whatever hoops they make him jump through. He just wants to get the hell out of this hospital bed.

Unfortunately for him, Steve hadn’t exactly aced any of the tests.

In fact, he had failed most of them pretty fucking dismally. He couldn’t remember the date, who the president was, where he lived, couldn’t say the alphabet backwards… although, who the fuck can do that? He stands by that failing grade.

A couple of CAT scans later and it’s clear that Steve’s brain got smacked around a little more than they had originally thought.

Among a pile of other stuff, the thing that sticks out the most to Steve is his diagnosis of something called short term amnesia. They explain it like the past 2 to 3 years has just been wiped from his brain. The last clear thing he really remembers is getting the shit beat out of him by Billy, and then it all sort of gets jumbled. Fragmented. The doctors explain that this is pretty typical for head trauma patients.

He’s a head trauma patient, now.

It’s normal for memories of trauma to link, creating spiderwebs throughout your brain.

Which, that’s great. So when he gets beat up again, there’s always a chance his brain will try and erase his easy, happy years and revert back to a trauma default. Really helpful brain, thank you.

And the thing that sucks the most is that his years after the Billy beat down sound pretty great. Traumatizing, sure, but great. Once the Upside Down shit was locked up, with every scary nightmare fuel monster inside of it, life in Hawkins didn’t sound all that terrible.

He lived with Robin, who’s his best friend, (his ‘platonic soulmate’ even, as she explains it), he’s working a retail job, (also with Robin), and coaches the high school basketball team during the evenings. He’d even been talking with Hopper about joining the force.

Well, he was. Now he’s more or less useless, working full time at re-learning his life, along with a couple of fine motor skills that got glitchy after the fall.

And then there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s apparently also his best friend, only their soulmate link isn’t platonic at all.

The strange and weirdly exciting reality was that Steve Harrington had woken up from his 3-day medically induced coma with not only a full fledged relationship, but a boyfriend.

It’s a lot to digest, and part of him still doesn’t even know how to process it, but hearing the stories being told around him, seeing how Eddie is practically living in his and Robin’s two-bedroom apartment, and just… the way Eddie looks at him?

It’s with love—Steve can see it. Feel it. Eddie’s practically vibrating with it.

What’s even crazier is that when Steve looks at Eddie, he feels the exact same way.

It’s like looking at the stars. Steve’s heart skips a beat when those dark eyes of hit him, and Steve wants nothing more than to make Eddie smile—no, better than that, to make him laugh, just so he can watch Eddie’s adam’s apple bob up and down and hear that manic, unhinged cackle. It’s downright delightful. Steve loves being in relationships like this, where it’s all consuming.

Steve may not have the memories of falling in love with Eddie, but he has all the feelings.

No one talks about it with Steve, of course. Maybe they think it’s going to be too heavy for him to process that he’s into dudes now, but Steve isn’t a big dumb baby. Sure, he’s got a pretty severe brain injury, and yeah, alright, it takes him a minute to remember people’s names sometimes, and he has a harder time controlling his emotions, but he isn’t a complete invalid. Only a little bit of one. He’s working on it, dammit.

And Eddie is so painfully, frustratingly patient with him. He never pushes. He’s clearly letting Steve retrieve his memories before he makes a move, because despite his whole outward appearance, Eddie Munson is a goddamn gentleman. He never so much as reaches for Steve’s hands, but Steve can tell by the way their pinkies graze when they watch movies late at night that he wants to.

Steve can tell by the way Eddie teases him, the way he’s there with him through his recovery, that he doesn’t ever make Steve feel stupid when he asks the same questions over and over again, when he cries at the drop of a hat or when he gets sort of confused about the lay out of his apartment—he doesn’t care about that of that.

Because he’s in love with Steve. It’s so painfully romantic, it brings a painful lump to Steve’s throat every time he thinks too much about it.

The two of them are driving to one of Steve’s therapy sessions, Eddie in the driver's seat, Steve in the passengers, listening to a low racket of some kind of heavy metal music. Eddie always keeps the volume low now, for Steve.

He’s just been so intensely good about everything that Steve needs to try and do something good for Eddie in return. He needs Eddie to know that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel that they’re both currently lost in.

“I’m sorry about this, y’know.” Steve says when they finally pull up the building that has ‘Brain Injury Recover Center’ written on the front. So all the boys and girls with scrambled eggs for brains know where to converge.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I work the evening shifts, remember? My days are free.” Eddie explains, and Steve wonders if he’s had to be told this bit of information a couple of times now. Sometimes it takes a few times before something sticks to his brain now. His short term memory is still majorly flighty. But no, Steve remembers that Eddie bartends at a local bowling alley most evenings. He’s gone a few times. Not to bowl, of course—too much hand eye coordination involved—but just to hang out with Eddie. He’s pretty decent at Ms. Pac-Man though.

Steve shakes his head. He knows his mind must have wandered because there’s been a lull where no one’s spoken. Eddie never seems to care about that though. “I don’t mean about the drive. I was talking about… y’know.”

“Wha’dy’mean?” Eddie mumbles as he backs into his parking space, hand on the back of Steve’s headrest.

Steve sighs and decides to just come out and say it: “I mean having your boyfriend forget everything about you and your relationship. I just… that must be really tough.”

Everything in Eddie Munson comes to a jarring halt, hand frozen over where he’s turned to ignition off.

It’s sort of unnerving—Eddie is always moving, fidgeting. Damn near bouncing off the walls. But now it’s like someone hit the poor guy with a freeze ray gun.

Steve chuckles softly as he reaches out and touches Eddie’s arm, giving him a playful jostle, to loosen him up a little, “it’s okay, Eddie. I know. You don’t have to keep going easy on me. I’m gay! Or, bi-sexual. Whatever.” Steve shrugs, “see? Not falling apart. I can handle being in love with another dude. You don’t need to keep babying me.”

The side of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a downturned smile that he seems to be trying to hide.

“I know, I know. Not just any dude.” Steve rolls his eyes, a smile still firmly on his face. He takes Eddie’s hand from the steering wheel, and Eddie seems to watch it go in a detached sort of awe. Steve wonders if Eddie’s proud of him for being so cool with it all. “In love with you.”

“Steve, I don’t think—

“Wait, just let me finish.” Steve asks, and Eddie blinks and works on closing his mouth. Knows it’s important to let Steve get his thoughts out quickly, lest they be lost to the giant black hole inside of his beat-up brain now. “I know that I don’t remember any of the important stuff with us. Our first date, or our first kiss or, y’know, any of our other first firsts. So maybe it feels like you’re cheating on the old Steve with me? But… Eddie, I know it’s crazy but even though my brain forgot all of the specifics; my heart didn’t. I look at you, and it’s all there. I’m still so into you, dude. I can feel it, even though I don’t remember how I got here. I’m in l—“

“Steve! Stevestevesteve wait, holy shit—!” Eddie’s eyes snap up from his intense stare at the place where their hands are linked. “Steve—”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts when Eddie doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. He runs his thumb gently over Eddie’s knuckles. It feels so nice to finally be able to hold his hand again. They fit together so well, and Steve wonders briefly if it’s some kind of muscle memory.

Eddie opens his mouth a few more times before he remembers how to make the words come out.

“Steve. Buddy. We’re… we’re not dating.”

Steve’s face falls, and he can feel a lump form in his throat, but he keeps a firm hold of Eddie’s warm hand in his own. “Yeah, I know, I know. We haven’t had any time to be a couple. And it’s probably been torture for you, man. You’re so busy taking care of me and making sure I don’t freak out over everything that you’ve clearly been neglecting your own hierarchy of needs.”

Eddie raises a brow.

Steve chuckles, “Shut up. It’s a therapy term.”

Eddie laughs in his throat. “Steve, you gotta slow down and listen to me.”

He turns his shoulders so that he’s fully facing Steve while he reaches his free hand over and tugs at one of his earlobes. “Got your hearing ears on?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods just the same.

“We… we weren’t dating before your accident,” Eddie speaks slowly, his voice warm, gentle. “Hell, I didn’t even know you were, y’know, into dudes like that. Much less me.”

Something throbs dully behind Steve’s eyes. It’s the start of a migraine—the one that makes it hard to process much of anything. Steve squints, trying to make sense of what Eddie’s saying. “…you’re not my boyfriend?”

Eddie shakes his head very, very slowly. “No.”

Steve snatches his hand back like he’s only just now noticed how burning hot Eddie’s hand is.

He settles back in his seat, staring out the front window. The sounds from the outside world are muffled, and everything feels far away and sort of… Made up. Just like everything he’d imagined was going on between him and Eddie. Not real.

He feels painfully detached from reality. Unmoored. Maybe this was the disassociation thing the doctor mentioned might happen…

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, risking another glance over to Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off him for a second.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.” Eddie snorts.

“Oh, God. This is… I’m—sorry. I’m so stupid. Fuck, I gotta—“ Steve suddenly attacks the door handle with a clumsy fury that has his hand fumbling with the handle for way too long. Fucking busted up, bruised as fuck fucking brain-!

“Steve, it’s okay, dude,” Eddie says from behind Steve, but that’s easy for him to say; he didn’t just humiliate himself in front of his not-boyfriend, definitely-crush, possibly ex-friend—“Steve, wait!”

Steve flees the van on unsteady feet, not daring to look back.

[shadowgale96]

A Game Between Ghost Kings // Amonimy's Official Heaven Official's Blessing Book 2 Trailer

[eriochromatic]

winter outing featuring cross guild and company 🌨️🌨️🌨️

[pokimoko]

If you're still doing the pride flag animal things..

Could you do an aroace Jaguar or Raven?

I just thought they might look cool.

An aroace raven is very cool, I agree. Here ya go!

[the-artist-grimm]

COTLTOBER DAY 21- "Lanolin"

During that first Winter's Solstice within the cult Anthea learned that Narinder had long neglected the holiday, and with the twins' having been enchanted by stories of a longer night where gifts were exchanged and bonfires were held, hastily made a few gifts last minute.

For the boys their first proper toys-soft, stuffed kitten plushies filled with wool and weighted with dried beans to make them comfort items.

(Narinder of course got something too, while the lamb would've preferred making him warm, clean robes, the amount of wool needed would've been too much. So he got some homemade pomegranate cookies instead after the lamb read that the fruit used to be a common offering left for him)

Prompt List!

[violent138]

I feel like the Robins probably watched horror movies to really up their game, taking notes on the gestures and body language that would creep you out. "Criminals are a superstitious lot", so yeah the guy in full body armour that could beat you up would suck, but a small child, somewhere in the dark, with an echoing laugh all around you as you fire off a hail of bullets, somehow dodging everything and gleefully messing you up. That's psychological warfare.

[bakedbakermom]

"Magrat says a [witch's] broomstick is one of them sexual metaphor things."*

*Although this is a phallusy.

god fucking dammit terry

[shotmrmiller]

personal sperm donor soap x reader because IVF is expensive (craigslist ad. everyone else thought it some FBI scheme but you just want to start a family minus the male relationship) thank you but once the dick appt comes, it turns into ghoap cuz johnny just had to bring his boyfriend to donate sperm too. higher chance of a baby

[thebramblewood]

When you're engaged in an intense stare down with damn near every vampire in town - and probably losing.

Featuring vampires by @itcrescentcrow, @fallstaticexit, @simsdaughters, @antiquatedsimmer, @vicciouxs, @moonwoodhollow, @skyalenesims, @living-undead, @moonfromearth, @queenmabsim, @mosquito-cove, @raye-sim and @evilgoof. Thank you so much for your contributions! I hope you don't mind my embellishments. And to everyone still waiting, I appreciate your patience and there will be several future opportunities! 🧛

Previous / Next

The Top Dog

Vladislaus Straud:

Founder of Forgotten Hollow, de facto ruler

Lilith’s estranged (it’s complicated) sire

Enjoys lurking (read: eavesdropping) from afar

Cagey about his past, claims not to recall his years as a human (if he ever was one?)

Rumblings of discontent with his antiquated  ways

Empire may be crumbling (if rotting, junk-filled castle is any indication)

(Lilith: And that god awful crow! It’s got to be as old as he is. Christ, the racket it makes!)

Veronica Aurelius:

Straud’s new protege (niece?)

Related through a distant bloodline (Lilith: Allegedly.)

Accomplished artist, historian, medium

Dreams led her to Forgotten Hollow (Lilith: Doubtful.)

Lilith’s replacement? (Lilith: He wishes.)

(Caleb: She looks sweet, but there’s a vicious streak beneath that glossy veneer.)

-

The Old Guard (Lilith: In other words, Straud’s minions.)

Elle DeVampiro, Inna Cents, Vlad Bloodvein:

aka The Nobles (Lilith: Fossilized Bitch, Slightly Less Fossilized Bitch, and The Inferior Vlad.)

Council of ancients who guard town’s borders from human trespassers

View vampirism as elite society: only most deserving should be initiated

Have hazing rituals to weed out weaklings

Never-ending blood supply flows from mysterious sources

Eternal life of ease has left them physically weakened, social status protects them

(Helena: Hazing rituals?

Caleb: Mind tricks. Intimidation tactics. Like humans, newborn vampires can be manipulated.

Lilith: Stop scaring her! A strong breeze could knock them over.)

Claudius and Marie Bouvet:

aka The Occult Hunters

Hunt spellcasters for their power

Hunt “exotic” occults (mermaids, aliens, fairies, etc.) to siphon and sell blood, consumed as an indulgent luxury

(Helena: Wait, you’re telling me mermaids and aliens are real?

Caleb: We exist. Is it really so hard to believe they do too?)

Hunt werewolves for sport (owing to centuries-long feud)

Sometimes hired to kill vampires if deemed a threat to community’s existence

(Helena: Werewolves!

Lilith: They smell like wet dog and taste awful.

Caleb: That hardly gives us the right to kill them.

Lilith: Oh, so we should just let them kill us?)

Elizabetha Bathoris:

aka The Gossip Hound (Lilith: She deserves a far nastier title. Sanctimonious cunt.)

Forgotten Hollow’s premier shit-stirrer

Rumored to bathe in virgins’ blood

Delights in spilling secrets that aren’t hers to tell

Loudly claims to be Straud’s “one who got away,” though unconfirmed by man himself

(Lilith: [scoffs] There’s only room for one delusional narcissist in that household.

Caleb: Lilith, please. At this rate, we’ll never finish.)

Carmela Castellano:

Owns sprawling private vineyard in countryside where Forgotten Hollow and Windenburg meet

Crafts exclusive (and expensive) blood vintages

Known for frequently dipping into her own supply

Hoped to raise adoptive daughter Pandora as protege

However, Pandora’s rebelliousness has led to household tensions

(Lilith: Nothing rivals the rush of feeding, but her blends come damn close.)

-

The Enigmas (Lilith: No one knows shit about them, and that’s how they like it.)

Dorian Vasile:

Born vampire, not transformed

Agoraphobic recluse, never seen to leave ruined cottage

Once prominent member of vampire society with many friends — and enemies

Fatal end to human love affair rumored to have led to voluntary isolation

Griselda Oreolo:

(Caleb: I wouldn’t recommend wandering any graveyards at night unless you want to meet The Bride.

Helena: The Bride?

Caleb: She can be quite ruthless.

Helena: As if I don’t already have enough graveyard-related trauma.)

An aristocrat transformed on wedding day, fated to dwell forever on what could have been

Cemeteries are her favorite hunting grounds

Not one for friendly conversation

Defends self first and foremost, no allegiance to other vampires

Nyx?:

Origins, real name, language unknown

Lurks the forest like a cryptid - quick, silent, and deadly

Known to kill men, disposes of withered bodies like a cat leaving gifts of mice for its owner (Lilith: Honestly, good for her.)

Interrupt mid-hunt at your own peril

-

The Challengers

Emet and Maxima Galvus

Obscenely wealthy tech CEO and “granddaughter”

Whispers they’re both much older than they look, by hundreds or even thousands of years (Lilith: I’ve yet to see any proof of that.)

Seem to purposely cultivate air of mystery, socializing little

Keep small coven as waitstaff

Emet fiercely protective of Maxima, though is he protecting her from world or world from her?

(Caleb: Don’t be dramatic, Lil. Yes, that stare of hers is unsettling, but-

Lilith: There’s nothing more aggravating than a precocious child. I don’t trust her one bit.)

Ulric Blüt and Herta Nacht:

(Lilith: I can’t believe you think they warrant serious inclusion. A delusional brat and his pathetic enabler are hardly a threat.)

A supposed demon overlord in the body of a child and his “14th Seneschal”

Taken deadly seriously by himself and no one else

Boasts Grim Reaper fears him, many assassinations dodged

Except his strangely devoted companion

Companion stealthily observant, formulating plans of her own?

Details of supposed coup TBD

Countess Maria Francisca Flores:

Mad vampire scientist (Lilith: [scoffs] An old woman doing science fair experiments.)

Claims to have transformed herself via scientific methods

Seeks to grow her “House Flores” with new vampires devoted to pursuit of knowledge

Unpublished manuscript on vampire anatomy

Old Guard disapprove, but for now human academics remain steadfast in denial

Currently studying cowplants, which scholars can admit do exist

(Helena: If she turned herself into a vampire, can’t she reverse-engineer a cure?

Caleb: I’ve asked. She’s incredibly tight-lipped about her findings.

Lilith: Because they’re non-existent!)

-

The Next Generation

Beginning in ‘60s and ‘70s, an influx of new vampires into Forgotten Hollow

Old Guard bristle at modernism but grudgingly admit transplants necessary to keep town thriving

Recent turnees or experienced vamps who’d rather evolve with times than stay stuck in past

Tend to form cliques based on shared subcultures

Enjoy mixing with humans, easily mistaken as such by undiscerning eyes (often a deadly mistake)

Less concerned with secrecy, hedonistic, impulsive

(Lilith: “Not coincidentally, shortly after we returned, what was once a trickle became a flood.”)

Example: Grunge Gang

Kiona and Nikan: trouble-making twins, street smart, book stupid

Vonny: stoner type, prefers when meals come to him

Clarissa: paranormal investigator turned paranormally investigated

Tara: wants to be good, surrounded by bad influences

Pandora: favors rock concerts over wine-making

-

Lilith: Did you get all that down? Rest up! The hands-on portion begins tomorrow.

[uncharted-constellations]

Robins can be found with a variety of patterns, colors, and shapes. However trying to use their appearance as an indicator for their nature would not be advised. All Robins, in their own way, are capable of quite dangerous feats, and are not to be taken lightly.

[sherrymagic]

AOUBOOM'S WORKING GOALS 🌼🧸 #FEEDxAouBoom | translation cr. ©