#ghosting sucks

[vozart]

he just needs them to get together or something

based on <3

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Into the pit got William Afton a new hater..

[radiance1]

"You fight against a god!" Said the eldritch, nearly undecipherable being that's body twinkled with stars that the JL/YJ (Your choice) had found themselves fighting against after having been sucked into a world not their own. "Do you truly believe yourselves capable of-"

A green sticky note appeared in front of the figure's... Face? They honestly didn't know, seeing as they couldn't tell where exactly this being began and ended.

"Oh- Oh uh." The figure said as its voice lost that booming, echoing quality as it started to shrink. "I gotta, like. Uh." Said the boy that took the being's place, sticky note in hand as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. "Sorry, can we, uh. Continue this later? I gotta walk my dog-"

A moment later, a loud bark broke the new atmosphere, and the child beamed. "Cujo!" He said, holding out his arms as the dog barreled into him. "Okay so I'll just, uh. I'll be right back, okay? Just stay there!" He said, before falling through a portal and leaving.

"So does this mean we technically won-"

[al4thea]

"Why do you put up with me? Because you're fire... And I've been cold my whole life." - A.R Asher

You don't need to change for the right person, you're enough.

[ghouljams]

Ah dammit. Fauxcest cw

Becoming part of the 141 and you're so worried about how they'll treat you, you know how women in the military are pushed around and you refuse to let that happen to you. Except they're so welcoming and kind, escorting you around the base and introducing you proudly as the newest member of the team. They share jokes with you and crowd around you in the scran hall to make sure no one bothers you. They treat you like a brother- no like a sister, Soap even jokes about it.

"Nice havin' a little sister, eh Ghost?" He says with a wink as Ghost checks over his rifle. Never getting more than a grunt in reply.

You carry it like a badge of honor. Call your comrades your brothers, joke with them about Price acting like a father. Never seeing the hungry looks they fix you with when you turn away. Never knowing just how badly they want to put their "sister" on her knees, and coo at her that this is just what big brothers do. You want to be good for them don't you? Then be a good girl and let your new found family stretch your holes.

[galactic-rhea]

More silly Luke Skysilverfoxwalker doodles

in my mind, almost nothing of the sequels is canon, but Luke is still grumpy and somewhat depressed, his dad tries to help tho

[bribinart]

vincent price meet vincent price

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake had a lot of free time.

In between the time little Timmy was deemed old enough to not need a nanny and his ninth birthday when he got his first film camera, Tim Drake had so much time after school to explore his big, empty house. And so he did, hours upon hours were spent exploring his house.

Mansion, Tim corrects himself. His house isn’t a house. It’s an abandoned mausoleum disguised as a mansion. He intimately knows every creak of the floorboards in the out of the way galleries, every heavy weight curtain shut closed so what little sun that makes it way through Gotham’s gloom is reflected in order to protect the artifacts stored within the walls. Tim probably knows the exact amount of fleur-de-lys on the fourth sitting room’s wall paper- by extrapolation from preexisting data and personal data collection. Basically, he laid on the floor and counted.

Tim had a lot of time. He also had a lot of artifacts to pore over, making stories as he goes and double checking the actual history of the object.

Tim thinks he’s an artifact, almost. To his parents, at least. A child, a thing, they collected at one point in their lives and put on display at the galas they deem worthy to return to Gotham for. Perhaps he’s worth even less, had his parents bothered to look at him more than the lesser art pieces in their storage-mansion. The story everyone knows about him is prerecorded by people who weren’t really there.

Regardless, Tim Drake knows every single corner of his prison mansion. He’s catalogued everything, after all, on a nice spreadsheet. 

And that’s why, as he entered the fifth- and least used- guest bedroom, Tim’s attention immediately cut to the wrong bit of detail. Eyes flickering between the indent on the bed, the mussed- but not terribly dirty- state of the sheets, Tim slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed on the spot on the bed, he called out a soft “hello?”

He immediately cringed. He’s not an amateur, and that little “hello” was a mistake that might get him killed.

Tim trembled as the panic set in, tears pooling at his eyes. He wished Batman and Robin were here, they’d know how to-

There’s something appearing on the bed. Tim Drake stares as a glowing figure with white, wispy hair and a black hazmat suit appeared sitting cross crossed on the guest bed. His gloved hands were held out in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Don’t- don’t panic!” The thing said, looking rather panicked itself. “I’m, uh, Phantom.”

Tim Drake’s curiosity and mystery-solving mindset slammed down on the toddler’s mind, quickly banishing the fear and panick in favor of interrogating this new, exciting thing.

“I’m Tim. Are you…” Tim frowns, wishing he had Batman’s intimidating growl. “A ghost?”

“Got it in one, kiddo. I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything! I just wanted to rest.”

Tim blinked. He decided right then and there that he likes this person. This… Phantom. If his trust was based on the fact that the loneliness was worse than a dead person, no, it wasn’t.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead..?”

——

Danny stared at the child in front of him, watching the kid- Tim- pout at something. Danny is distracted from the staples holding his ghostly guts from falling out of his non-consensual vivisection when the kid asks him if he’s a ghost.

“Got it in one, kiddo!” Oo, he should tone down the energy. Danny’s too tired right now to maintain that level when speaking to Tim. Now, gotta reassure the kid he means no harm before he reports Danny’s presence to whatever authorities around.

His parents, at best. The cops, at worst.

“I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything!” He could tell he landed in some richie rich mansion by the opulent decorations in a seemingly impersonal room alone. “I just wanted to rest.”

Ancients, that had been more honest than he’d wanted. He really was out of it.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, but you can almost never have enough sleep, you know?”

The toddler looks unsure but nods anyways.

“Listen, would you… not tell anyone that I’m here? I’ll be out of your hair soon, promise.

Tim looks like a smart kid. There’s no way he’d fall for-

“Okay.” He fell for it. Danny blinked, stupefied. “My parents won’t be home for a while.”

“What.”

Tim shrugged. “You can stay. The housekeeper is only around a couple of days.”

“You… are you supposed to tell me that?”

Tim sent him a derisive look, clearly bolder now that Danny made no moves to hurt him.

On his cherubic but skinny face, the effect is both adorable and absolutely devastating.

“You’re hurt.” Tim fidgeted with his hands. “I can… I can get you water…?”

His core purred.

“Please. Thanks… Tim?”

The kid beamed at him and left.

Crap. New fraid member it is.

——

Danny, naive: “Surely him trusting strangers is just a one time thing, he’s so well behaved”

Tim, staring Danny in the eyes as he jumps out of the window to go stalk his vigilantes: “I’m gonna go take a walk in Crime Alley”

——

Tim gets Danny water, but it’s tap water from Gotham and is infected with both an ungodly amount of toxins (that doesn’t affect either of them bc one’s dead and the other had been chugging it since they were a baby- Gothamites get bottled water or from Wayne Foundation’s Clean Water Stations) and also like trace amounts of ectoplasm.

Danny: woah this is so healthy water!

Tim, pleased because Danny ruffled his hair: yes, I’m perfect

The rest of Gotham, if they knew: making warding sigils against these two eldritch gods

——

Basically, Danny gets attached and stays mostly because of said attachment but also Danny could see Tim’s budding world dictator tendencies and went yeah gotta curb that

[ghcstao3]

johnny has always known simon to be quiet, introverted. it’s possible to get him talking when they’re alone, sure, but generally simon happens to be content listening to johnny speak, more than anything. a man of few words, as all the privates would say.

he expects it to be the same way when simon is at home, with family—but dear god, was johnny wrong to assume so.

it’s a whole new side of simon, when he’s with his family. and johnny kind of adores it.

simon complains when his mum asks for the nth time when’s the wedding? and looks pointedly at johnny. simon gets into lighthearted brotherly spats with tommy about the most insignificant things. simon and beth exchange their dry wit and shitty jokes. simon is loud and lively when he plays with joseph.

it takes some adjustment for johnny, at first, to get used to this strangely extroverted version of simon. but he certainly doesn’t hate it—if anything, it has him feeling inspired by simon’s mum by the end of the night.

maybe he’ll start asking simon when the wedding will be. perhaps that’ll speed things along.

[itsbeesknees]

I’m not being normal about this.

[tb-png]

drunk on love 🍾- 👻 🧼

the after party is just them… walking home… to their shared flat… in silence… while they just enjoy each other’s presence…

[ogerpwned]

The idea of ghost obsessions is so funny id be so pissed if I died and it just made me somehow more autistic

[fallenneziah]

Summary: Ghost's breeding instincts kick in on a cold night at the fire, and tension-turned arousal leaves you with one more body to feed.

CW: Dubcon, handjobs. Morbidly gross. Monsterfucking, Zombie! Ghost, breeding, cock swelling, deteriorating body parts, spit, Simon tries to be gentle, Ghost is there to breed. Cum inflation, cock warming. Slight angst. He tries to take care of you, but it's not really his main priority.

The zombie apocalypse has taken over the world. And you are stuck in the middle of nowhere. With no telecommunications, you were left to your own devices when your mission was sidetracked by the affected. You happened to be out with Simon when it happened, which ended in him getting bitten while you both were caught off guard.

And now you were stuck out here. Having moved from another safe haven from a lack of supplies and shelter.

Simon moaned from his broken maw, reaching out his hand lazily to the warm, crackling fire. His cold skin longed for warmth, the dark, bleak night providing you both no comfort. You gently moved his hand away, placing it back down. "Don't, You'll hurt yourself."

Simon moaned again, shifting and slouching, his glazed-over eyes staring into the fire hopelessly. Like he was lost. Feeling anxious again. He felt more anxious than you most times. But how could he not after the bite didn't fully rot away his brain?

The sound of wind and fire crackling filled the silence.

Simon huffed, his cold hand finding his slacks, still gazing into the fire as his palm dug against the seam along his crotch.

If he had done this when he was fully intact, you probably would have found it much hotter. But you knew Simon did this because he was anxious. You weren't entirely sure why he was anxious, but you gave him his space.

His hips shifted, whining against his palm while you pulled your jacket on tighter, feeling the fire whip and crackle.

‟Easy buddy, you're ok.”

Simon whined again, this time shifting his whole body as he pressed his palm harder into himself, almost like he wanted to tear his dick off. You got up and walked over to him, pulling his hand away. His head snapped at you, growling lightly. You ignored him, reaching over to rub his shoulders.

"It's alright, I'm here."

You felt him tense up a bit as you rubbed before he began to relax.

"I'll take care of you," you whispered, rubbing the back of his neck, making sure he could feel your touch. "Don't worry."

You reached down to his slacks and undid them, pulling down his zipper and letting his cock free from its confines.

He whined, squirming against your warm hand. You just wanted to help him. Seeing his swollen, puffy cock. Dripping with stagnant, thick white goo from the head of his cock. Black veins puffing out from the length and twitching.

You gripped it softly, feeling the cold, leathery skin in your hands. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back against the tree behind him. You rubbed the precum around with your thumb, feeling it stick between your fingers as you did.

You had to admit that it was kinda gross, but at the same time, you couldn't deny how much it turned you on.

Simon's glazed eyes followed you, trying to hump into your hand, needing the release. He was anxious, wirey, he wanted it out of him so badly. His instincts and his body told him.

Slowly sliding your hand up and down his cock, pulling the skin down over his head and then dragging back up. He moaned, his broken jaw lolling against the stretched skin. Watching with heavy, unfocused eyes as you stroked his puffy cock.

His cock twitched, dripping more ooze down the shaft.

"Good boy, Simon." You said softly, continuing to rub him. "Just let it all out."

Simon's breathing quickened, his hips moving erratically, trying to get as much friction as he could. His head lolled to one side, a cold hand grabbing your shoulder, the warmth of your palm was intoxicating him. He wanted you so badly. His cock desperately weeping from build-up and frustration.

You tried to keep him still, but he still struggled each way he wanted. His broken jaw hung, and moans flooded from his exhausted, deteriorating vocal cords.

He whined.

His hips jerked again, and you knew he was close.

You continued to stroke him, feeling the heat build in your stomach, making you feel flushed and warm. His glazed eyes searched around, humping your hand with vigour, breathing heavily, one hand digging his blunt, black nails into the dirt.

You squeezed the head of his cock, your thumb rubbing the leaking precum around so it would flow freely.

"Let it all out. Just release."

He whined, his cock twitching and bobbing as you squeezed the head tightly.

"Just let it all out. I'm here to help you, Simon."

The pressure built, his cock throbbing against your hand.

Spurting from the head in a stream of thick, white goo. He moaned and squirmed, gasping for air as his body slowly let him relax. The cum dripped from his cock to the ground, a large puddle growing around it.

His eyes fluttered, looking at you with a glazed expression. His cock didn't go down at all, oozing a little more. His fist came up, dirt-covered hand grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him, craning his head up toward you. You leaned back a little, his cold breath coming out ragged. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, looking at you with an almost human expression. One he'd been lacking for months.

He let out another inhuman noise that strained your heart. He pulled away again, his cock still desperately hard for your warmth. He wanted you. He's always wanted you. And yet he's ended up here. He released your hand, palming his crotch again as if telling you to leave. That you could go now.

You were tempted to pull away. You could leave him. Let him deal with himself. But, you also didn't want to do that.

You sighed.

"Alright. You win." You said, getting up and going over to your pack.

You sat back by the fire. Pulling out a ration of canned food, cracking it open and pouring it into the old pot you had rummaged from an abandoned house.

Simon watched you from by the tree. His insides wanted you so badly. His cock twitched, throbbing from being unattended. He wanted you. Your warm hand on his cold, dead skin. He felt no warmth anymore, and he wanted it. He craved it.

And his resolve crumbled quickly when he found himself struggling with the open buckle of his tattered military pants. Crawling over to you and whining, nuzzling against your side.

He couldn't communicate, only make those horrible, grotesque noises.

But you understood what he wanted. You knew he was begging you to help him.

His cock dripping, humping his cock into the air, just shy of your body. You looked at how desperate he was. Gurgling and whining, fists clenching in the dirt. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his cock again, but you could tell he wanted more.

His cock twitched, pulsating, desperate for attention. He grabbed the pot, throwing it aside as he climbed onto your lap, straddling you. He pushed your head up, forcing your gaze to his face. His eyes were still glossy, his jaw hanging, his face still grey and rotten.

He was still dead.

But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to be dominant.

You didn't fight back, allowing him to lead.

He held his cock in his hand, stroking it, moaning as the head rubbed against your lips. You opened your mouth, feeling the cold, leathery skin on your tongue.

He was shaking as you found yourself sucking on his cock. Letting his precum dribble down your throat, making your throat burn. His cock grew, throbbing against your tongue and the back of your throat.

He was gentle, forcing you down further on his cock, making your throat bulge.

You gagged, your eyes watering, your throat burning.

And he released your head, letting you up for air.

You coughed, taking stock of the situation. He'd forced you down.

You relaxed, letting him push you back down again. And again.

A warm, wet place to empty himself. And he needed it. Badly.

In the back of your mind, you knew that he didn't mean to be forceful. He was just so desperate to get his human warmth. To get his sexual release. He didn't know what he was doing. He was just following his instincts.

His cock glistened in the firelight, throbbing as it leaked that thick, white goo.

He tugged your hair, moaning as you felt his cock press against the back of your throat. He wanted to cum. He wanted to flood your mouth with his dead, thick cum.

You gagged, pulling off his cock. You'd never gone blowjob far with him before. You just jerked him off or let him hump you, never actually sucked him. He didn't seem to mind, taking this as permission to fuck your face.

His cock stayed firm, the head brushing against your lips as he jerked his hips.

"Come on," you said, swallowing his precum, "cum for me."

You opened your mouth, letting him push the head of his cock inside. It was big. Bigger than anything you'd ever taken. His hand fell to one side again, his helmet slipping a little, tight slacks pulling up his thighs, boots chaffing his ankles. He growled hollowly, another orgasm spurting from his cock across your face and into your mouth.

You probably should have been prepared for it to taste disgusting, but you hadn't.

You gagged a little, spitting it out as much as you could, having to swallow the rest, your eyes watering a bit from the taste.

He moved one leg off you, you attempted to roll over and get up, but he grabbed your belt. You grunted as he pulled you to the ground, dragging you back over to him. He leaned over you, hooking his leg back over your thighs, cock pressing to your ass. His hands dug into your stomach, pulling you back up into him. Getting you under him, he blindly and desperately tries to find your belt.

You're not sure how to react.

He finally grabs your belt and starts yanking it, trying to force you onto your hands and knees.

"S-Simon… what are you doing?"

He grunted, yanking again.

You pushed him away.

"Simon! No!"

He grabbed your shoulders, forcing you back down.

He's too strong. You can't stop him.

You've always thought about this with him. But you were more worried about him in this form. Of what.. could happen. Worried about possible repercussions. But he kept you down, finding the buckle and struggling to get it off.

He whined, trying to tell you to relax, that you'd be okay, and he just needed this once, but he couldn't. He held you down, getting your pants down over your ass, cold hand digging under your panties, your scent filling him.

Simon had smelled your arousal before, but now it was closer. He could smell the arousal in your thighs and the warmth of your pretty cunt.

It made him want you. Made him feel a desire for you.

He was a bit clumsy, fumbling around and trying to get a grip on his dick.

You whimpered, reaching back and pushing his hand away.

His fingers wrapped around his cock, giving you a final chance to stop him. You whimpered, hoping he'd let this go.

But he couldn't. His cock grew, throbbing, pressing against your ass. He held you down, letting you know he wasn't going to let you go. You were his. His toy. His anything.

The head slipped into you, your soaking wet labia spreading around his cock.

He held still, cock throbbing and leaking precum. You let out a gasp of air, pain running through your body.

Simon whined in reply, wanting you to relax. To be ok. He wanted to breed you. He needed to fuck you so badly. The warmth of your insides was so intoxicating that he needed it. But he could tell you were struggling. He wanted to comfort you in any way he could.

He didn't dare try to push himself in further, his cock was throbbing and sensitive, and he didn't want to hurt himself. You didn't want to do this right now, but he needed a release. And you knew it would make him happy to cum. He'd be more docile afterwards.

He pulled out, rubbing the head against your clit, your body shuddering.

He knew this was what you wanted. He pulled out, body shaking as he grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. He pushed in again, grunting from the pleasure of feeling you, the warmth pressing to him.

He pushed into you, groaning as your tight walls pressed to him. He could feel every fold of your insides, every irregular surface. His cock throbbed, his body growing hot and cold at the same time.

He pulled out, groaning as your wetness dragged over his head and pulled you back into him. His cock thrusting, the warmth and wetness of you pulling at him. He could feel every inch of you throbbing against you.

He pulled out, groaning as your body brushed his cock. And rammed into you, your wetness coating him.

"S-Simon… don't…"

He grunted, slamming into you. Your cervix was the only thing left keeping him out. You moaned around his cock, back arching as his speed increased. His blunt fingernails dug into your hips, head lolling, grunting and making grotesque noises as his cock fucked deep into your cunt.

You knew you couldn't keep him away, and the way he plunged into you, brushing the sweet bud deep inside you slowly unravelled you.

His body was rigid, the only thing he was concerned about was getting off.

He didn't care how many times he came, or how many times he'd cum on you. All that mattered was fucking his cock into your cunt.

"Simon!"

He slammed into you again, grunting. You moaned, head falling forward, your pussy dripping with arousal. You could barely control yourself, feeling your orgasm building up inside you. His cock hit you right where you needed it. As if he knew you in and out.

Simon could smell your arousal. He could practically smell your orgasm.

His cock pulsated inside you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Your legs quivered, feeling your orgasm approaching.

His hands squeezed your hips, cock pounding into you, hitting your g-spot.

"Simon! I'm…"

He slammed in again, his tip brushing your cervix, your body tensing up, legs shaking.

Your body shook as you squirted, coating his cock with your juices.

The smell made his head swim, his hands digging into your hips. He fucked you harder, his cock losing control. Your pussy tightened, pulling at Simon's cock, spasms running through your body, hot fluids flowing.

His cock throbbed, pulsating as it slapped against your pussy.

You rolled your head, moaning and rolling in pleasure as he slammed into you harder.

And he held you there, his orgasm tearing through him. His arms quivered as he pushed into you, cum spurting deep inside you as his orgasm hit.

Your breathing was ragged, hips falling into his with each thrust.

He snarled and moaned with a hollow tone against your ear, breathing harsh, fingernails digging in deeper. He pressed you to the cold ground, hips plunging deep inside you without remorse.

You cried, your legs locking again as he drove you insane.

His cock pumped cum deep inside you, coating your insides.

He panted, his cock twitching as the last of his cum dripped from his cock.

Your legs were shaking, his cock twitching, still buried deep in you. He held you there. Your head fell to the dirt, tilting back to look at him. He stared off into nothing, whining and then looking down at you.

He laid down, cock still deep inside you as his chest pressed to your back. He laid his head in the crook of your neck, gurgling softly. An apology.

You sighed, reaching back and running your hand over his cold cheek.

"I-It's okay… I understand."

His breath hitched, his jaw brushing your neck. He was scared.

You gently took his hand, placing it on your stomach. "We'll figure it out. We'll work it out together."

He whined softly, nuzzling his face against yours. Nestling you close, staring into the still crackling fire as you rested on the cold ground. His cock was warm inside you, and he had zero intention of leaving so quickly.

[starry-bi-sky]

Stillborn danyal al ghul au incorrect quotes - dpxdc au

Vlad and Danny, fighting for the nth time this month: Danyal, exhausted: hey if i call you dad will you like. Stop. I have a test tomorrow. Vlad, has a parental bone in EVERY part of his body: *immediately stopping* Vlad: What do you mEAN YOU HAVE A TEST. WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAD WITH THAT-- Danny: BECAUSE YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL DR. FENTON AGAIN, VLADIMIR.

-------------

Danny, flopping into bed facefirst: i need sleep or rehab. again Tucker (maybe?? I haven't decided yet who he's friends with): i thought you were clean Danny, into a pillow: not if this keeps up.

-------------

Tucker: favorite superhero go Sam: Wonder Woman Danny: the Flash Tucker: Okay Sam's is obvious but, Danny I would've thought you'd say like, Martian Manhunter or Superman or Starfire. But Flash?? Danny: i had a foster in Central City for a few years and met him, he's a really nice guy. He made me promise to invite him to my high school graduation and is part of the reason I made it to rehab and ended up getting rehomed and picked up by the Fentons. Danny: I have a hoodie with his logo on it in my closet, i saved up to buy it and its the first thing I got with the allowance the Fentons got me

------------

Danny wearing three layers and a scarf in the middle of summer: *shivering* Sam: how are you cold you're literally made of lava Danny, hissing: lava cools at contact with the air and I'm trying to keep my body temperature at a reasonable level, SAM. Tucker, touching Danny: you feel warm to me Danny: to YOU

------------

Danny:...i could eat lava Tucker: Sam: Danny: Tucker: do it. no balls Danny, getting up: bET--

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Danny: Dash: The Both Of Them: *under the bleachers to smoke/vape* Danny, smokes: I wont tell if you won't tell Dash, vapes: ....deal

-----------

Danny, breaking into Vlad's lab: YOU FUCKER QUIT-- what the hell is that Vlad, working on his newest invention: Language. ....And it's something I'm working on, go away Danny: what? no, fuck you. You're trying to kill Jack again and this looks interesting. I was gonna come beat you but now I'm curious what the hell this is (Vlad spends a good hour explaining what he's doing before they start arguing and Danny starts a fight)

------

Danny laying on the ground staring the ceiling, feeling like shit: Jazz, popping by his room: ,,,what'cha doing, Danny? Danny: Danny, internally: 'Jazz says i should be more open' Danny: considering the benefits of relapsing Jazz, immediately stepping into the room: oh okay so lets talk.

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Danny, meeting Robin as Phantom for the first time unaware of his identity and his own birthright: Robin: Phantom: Phantom: fuck you Robin, a 12 year old: fUCK YOU

-----------

Vlad: Jack Fenton iced me out of my early adulthood and got you, his foster son, killed by his own invention. He is a danger to society and I personally want him dead. Danny: okay, cool motive still murder. Danny, louder: I DONT NEED YOU TO TAKE REVENGE ON MY BEHALF

-----------

Vlad, grabbing Danny's shoulders: aren't you tired of being nice Danny: Vlad: don't you want to go apeshit Danny, in the american foster system since infancy, was in rehab at 11 years old, has been fucked over metaphorically, emotionally, physically, ten times over: Danny: i feel like we need to have a talk

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DP/Regular DPDC Vlad: *gripping by the shoulders* DPDC Vlad: how Stillborn Vlad: what DP/DC Vlad: how are you getting him to like you. Stillborn Vlad:,,, well first off i don't torture him so jot that down Stillborn Vlad: second of all, like is a strong word. Stillborn Vlad: Daniel only likes me on tuesdays and when i show him how to make fireballs

[temeyes]

quick simon (cuz i didn't wanna draw the stuff i actually have to draw,,)

[snakeguy999]

OFFTOBER Day 23. "Good ending"