I Think Is Ironic To Think This On Valentine's Day, And Is My Saint At The Same Time
I think is ironic to think this on Valentine's day, and is my saint at the same time
I'm tired of this fucking world, i really want to kms
More Posts from Tiredofeverythingandmyself and Others
𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶It's Christmas morning at the Munson's and Adrie has a small request.✶
NSFW — slow burn, fluff, lovesick yearning, very light angst, 18+ for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use
chapter: 7/? [wc: 3.4k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07
AO3
Chapter 7: Breakthrough
Dreams of sleeping in were crushed one tiny footstep at a time.
Morning broke through the burgundy bed sheet hung as a curtain in the window. Slivers of blue fought away the slumbering gloom clinging to the peeled wallpaper, invading the small bedroom in drowsy clock ticks. Murky wine-colored shadows caressed the bundled comforter, crowded the pillows, soothed closed eyes into sweet dreams. Darkness cradled his head and sold him a lullaby fantasy. An aching yearn of a dream where the cold penetrating the thin trailer walls was kept at bay by more than his own body heat. Arms encircling him, a kiss behind his ear, a gentle wake up call. An idyllic rapture easily woven from the fibers of his unguarded heart. An aspiration quickly escaping his wishful fingers at the sound of running, and the vibrations of the trailer shaking, and–especially–the little voice yelling at him his five extra minutes were up.
“Daddy! You have to wake up.” Adrie jumped knees-first onto the mattress, and bounced her way over to him. “It’s Christmas, you have to get up!”
He grumbled from his warm pocket of air under the covers, and she whined.
“Please,” she begged, crawling towards him.
He winced, and hissed, “Ow-ow-ow, watch the hair. Miss Mouse won’t like me if I go bald.” He dropped his head back to where she sank her mighty fists into his pillow, and she apologized by putting all her strength into shaking his shoulder instead.
Wayne called from the kitchen, “I’m gettin’ started on our famous Christmas casserole.”
“Now that,” Eddie said in an upbeat tone, “I’ll get up for.”
“You’re mean,” Adrie pouted, scooting until her knees dug into his spine, and added on to it by saying it wasn’t fair he was making her wait to open presents.
Eddie twisted around to see her manufactured sad face (practiced over the years to elicit the strongest pity in him), and he snaked his arm out of the blankets to hook it around her, bringing her wriggling self in for a sloppy kiss on her forehead. She made a ‘yuck!’ sound and pushed away.
“Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Willfully, Adrienne slipped from his hold and sprinted the length of the trailer, rattling the metal window panes along her way.
In the following moment of quiet, he inhaled deep, and sighed through his hands scrubbing over his face. The oil in the electric radiator popped. A bird chirped. Music blasted from a neighbor’s home. A faraway bike skidded, spitting up loose rocks from the trailer park’s entrance.
Eddie rolled onto his back, and blinked at the stained ceiling. He tried to not make a habit of sleeping in Adrie’s bed now that she was older, but sometimes his back cried for a break from the lumpy couch cushions.. His back, his hips, his knees, his neck. All of it. Every now and then he needed the relief, to flatten himself out on the mattress after several long days of work wearing down on his body, even if it was considered weird or wrong by others.
Swinging his legs over the short drop to the floor, Eddie straightened out his thick knit socks, sweatpants, sweatshirt. He rubbed his knuckles against his dry eyes, stinging a line of water along his lashes. Flipped off the switch to the heater. Ran his fingers through his tangled hair, mouth tasting of stale beer from drinking last night with Wayne.
He stepped out of the room that used to be his, and staring at him down the hallway, past the kitchen, at the other end of the lousy home, was his little girl. She sat crisscrossed at the stout tree smelling of fresh sap, illuminated by colorful strands of lights, and backed by old ornaments previously stored in cardboard boxes. Her eyes sparkled with silver tinsel happiness, and her springy curls bounced with the excitement of her wave.
Wayne wrung a damp dish towel around his hands as he and Eddie made their way to the couch, and he gestured at her. “Alright, darlin’, you can go.”
The sacrifices were worth it.
In this lousy home filled with overdue bills and underprivileged struggles, was an abundance of love and awe. Eddie sat at the edge of his make-do bed with scratchy cushions that chafed his skin raw, and brushed his shaky fingers over his lips. “Yeah? Is that the one you wanted?” he asked, grinning so wide his puffy sleep-deprived eyes nearly closed from the unbridled joy he felt watching his daughter tear into the Rockin Robot cassette player and recorder; a toy which had an attached microphone so she could record herself singing onto blank tapes. “Wanna make music just like me?”
“Yes! I love it!”
It didn’t take long for Adrie to open her presents in the established order–smallest to largest. Stocking stuffers first, which she dumped out onto the pine-needled carpet, and snatched all the chocolates to put on the coffee table next to the plate of cookie crumbs and empty Looney Tunes mug. Tossed the pack of new socks and dress into a pile, but wore her pink rain boots. The talking Barney the Dinosaur doll, cassette recorder, and Barbie Fold ‘n Fun play house were placed aside for assembly and batteries later.
Wayne gathered the ribbons and bows she discarded to be saved for next year, and said, “Okay, Miss Adrie. Looks like you have one present left.”
The forest green bag with a portrait of Saint Nick sat propped against the tree, nearly as tall as Adrie when she stood and grabbed the handles. She peeked inside, and in one motion, dropped to the floor, and dislodged gift after gift. An eight-page book with reusable stickers she could move around to create scenes of dinosaurs roaming the land. A big box of 64 crayons with two coloring books. A plastic jewelry making kit. A puzzle. Containers of Play-Doh. And the very last item, turned over and shaken out from the bag, was a unicorn.
Adrie squealed, and swept the stuffed animal into her arms for a merciless hug. “He’s so cute!” she said, burying her face in the powder blue fur.
Eddie stopped tracing his lips. Wayne tilted his head at the scene, confused.
Spotting a small red envelope amongst the torn newspaper her presents were wrapped in, Adrie picked it up, and mouthed out the handwriting she wasn’t familiar with. “Santa left this for you.” Adrie held it out for Eddie to take.
Prying his gaze off the unexpected hoard, he accepted the envelope with his name on it, not uttering a word, nor reacting more than necessary. She bolted for her toys, and Wayne’s scrutiny was hot on the side of his expressionless face, watching him slide his finger under the corner of the flap and break the seal gently, avoiding tearing the paper.
He pulled out the card to reveal an illustration of two cardinals in a pine tree flocked with white glitter snow with a generic greeting on the front. Certain words were underlined in pen afterwards.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
He opened it to see if anything was written inside.
One glimpse.
He smashed the card closed and turned his face away from his uncle.
Collecting himself, Eddie sniffed and ran his knuckles along his jaw until he reached back and wrung his nape as he stood up, and walked to the coat hooks, slipping on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots without acknowledging his family.
“Where’re you–?” Wayne stared at his back in quiet bafflement.
“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he answered, and shut the door behind him.
~~~
Tree branches stilled after the delicate breeze knocking them together ceased. Hungry dogs went inside for kibble and warm blankets. Kids stopped riding their bikes when their moms called their names. Humidity dampened the crisp air. Everything hushed.
Eddie sat on the frumpy loveseat on the porch built onto the trailer. His forearms laid on his thighs, and the card remained clapped between his palms. He took a shaky breath. Exhaled. Or tried, anyway, to breathe despite his nose stopping up.
He opened the card again and read the message spanning the entire blank space available.
merry christmas eddie,
i hope adrie likes the gifts!
i know it’s hard for you to find peace,
so i tried going for quiet things that would
keep her busy, like the puzzle. it’s double sided!
that’ll keep her entertained. and i loved
play-doh as a kid, so i hope she does
too. & i can get her more coloring books if
she doesn’t like the animal ones. i know
Continued on the other side–
the bracelet kit says ages 7+ but maybe
you can supervise her. i remember having
one when i was little, before parents cared if
we choked on the beads.
SEASONS GREETINGS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR
if she’s not still in her unicorn phase, spare me!
it was too cute to pass up.
anyway, please get lots of rest over the holidays.
you deserve to relax.
–♡–
mouse
His daughter came dashing out the door, and ran up to him with her jacket flapping around her arms. He shoved the card under his thigh, and shifted his focus to zipping it up for her to silence his emotions from surfacing, not having the energy to risk shattering the facade of the morning by explaining why the unicorn she galloped up his leg meant more to him than it did her.
“You like what Santa got you?” he asked, running a heavy hand over her hair.
“He knew exactly what I wanted,” she rejoiced.
With the temperature dropped, and her boots shiny, she raced the stuffed animal up to his hip, and left him to babysit it while she played outside in the frozen-over yard.
Gladly, he tucked the unicorn companion under his arm as Wayne pushed open the squeaky side door and joined him.
Under normal circumstances, Wayne’s old man stoicism worked wonders on getting Eddie to talk. It was a sure thing. He’d see him come home with red-rimmed eyes, or that far away gaze on the worser days, and he sat in earnest patience, knowing his nephew needed the cool down time to organize his thoughts, and then he’d explain what had him upset.
It worked less well in the years following the incident which led to Eddie’s ostracization from Hawkins, but he just had to be patient. It would work. Eventually. Just had to be patient.
And when his nephew refused to speak, Wayne sparked up a cigarette, and ventured, “I don’t, uh, remember us buyin’ those last presents.”
“They’re from the receptionist at work,” Eddie stated. He didn’t move his gaze from staring holes into the worn down floorboards, but he did sink back into the couch, combing his fingers through the unicorn’s white mane.
“Oh,” Wayne said in genuine surprise. “That was nice of her.”
Treading carefully, his uncle spun his hand as he thought of the best way to approach the real conversation he wanted to have. “She seems nice.. To you, and to Adrie.”
That was when Eddie shook his head. “I know where you're going with this,” he warned, absent of any real threat behind the words.
He went silent in stubbornness.
But Wayne just had to be patient.
“She’s very.. uh.” Eddie sighed. He started again, this time looking up at the rusted awning as if it had all the answers to his love life woes. “She’s very vibrant, y’know? From the city, lives a big life, loves performing for people. She doesn’t need a gray cloud like me hanging over her.” He laughed a hollow laugh, and bumped his shoulder into Wayne’s, pretending their conversation was of the light-hearted variety. Like admitting these things aloud didn’t cause a devastating blow to his neglected self-esteem. “Doesn’t need someone like me tying her down to a place like this.”
Wayne scanned the same trailer park in the same small town with the same curse of bearing the Munson name, but he viewed them with less disdain. Less animosity. “You used to be vibrant too, kid. Used to always be talkin’ about your hobbies, playing music too loud, sittin’ out here with your guitar. Always bringing your friends over. What happened?”
Too many things happened, and they were not the kind he verbalized often, so Eddie chose the most obvious.
The corner of his mouth twitched at the joke flashing through his mind. He got in real close to Wayne’s face, raised his hand, and directed his attention. “My vibrancy’s currently ruining her new shoes.”
Tracking his finger, Wayne slowly turned his head in time to see Adrie crack the ice barring her from a puddle, and stomped it into smithereens, sending mud up her pajama pants and into her pretty pink rain boots. She jumped, and jumped, and giggled, and jumped, all over her dad’s heart.
Satisfied, Eddie hugged the unicorn to his chest after making his point.
“Have you considered maybe she likes gray clouds? Or she’s the type that looks forward to the rainy days?”
“We can drop the weather analogies, Wayne,” he said in a curt tone, cutting off his uncle's incessantness. “It’s not that, anyway. I know she likes me, I’m not that dense.”
Wayne didn’t put much effort into keeping the humor out of his voice, “Then what are you being dense about?” The contemptuous head tilt and accompanying eye roll were earned, but not regretted.
“She might be moving away at the end of summer.”
He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Might be?”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
He watched Eddie’s expression slacken to stark blankness again–face and posture wilting, weighed down by his fate–already resigning on a relationship he hadn’t yet given a chance. “Don’t you want to at least try? I mean, you never know. What if she–?”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Eddie interrupted, growing annoyed at the topic and allowing it to seep into his temper. “Don’t you think I’ve sat here, day after day, and thought about it from all angles? Over, and over.” He became more animated as he spat out questions rapid-fire. “What if she stays? What if she leaves? What if things work out? What if they don’t? Do I deserve it even if it’s short term? Can I handle it when Adrie asks me why she’s not around anymore? Like, fuck. It’s all I think about. Constantly! Just again, and again. She could move back to New York and live her accomplished life without ever giving me another thought, but what if she doesn’t want to go back? What if she wants to stick around? What if she wants to work with me at the garage forever, and we get married, and buy a small house with a white picket fence, and live out our textbook dream together with 2.5 kids and a dog. Who knows!” Done ranting, Eddie ended it in a full bodied shrug, and collapsed into the cushions, releasing the most cathartic, yet dramatic sigh Wayne had ever heard. “She’s all I think about. Drives me insane.”
Wayne held out the pack of Camels to him, but it was rejected in a limp wave.
“I..” Eddie’s mouth hinged on the words, bottom lip quivering as the questions he posed washed over him as an exhausted, watery-eyed truth, “I didn’t even realize how bad the stress had gotten until she just..” He motioned. “Fixed it.”
Acknowledging the bitter reality, Wayne nodded. “You are much nicer to be around since you two started hanging out.. Adrie sees it, too.”
Not that Eddie meant to be an asshole, but after grueling hours of hard labor, he had little tolerance for the arguments before bath time, or the meltdowns before school. Months prior, he was alongside his daughter, crying harder than she did when the smallest inconvenience set her off, ending with both of them huddled on the floor; one of them screaming to be understood, and the other in a hopeless heap of a man who reduced himself to a shitty father who couldn’t do anything right, drowning under the pressure, anxiety, responsibility to not fuck up again.
Now, he was able to swim to the sun glimmering on the surface.
Wayne landed his rough palm atop Eddie’s untamed bedhead, and soothed him, “You should give yourself a chance at something great. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out.”
Eddie sniffed, and wrung his lips to the side. “You gonna pick up Adrie’s pieces too?” he asked softly.
“I will, son.” Despite the rocky times in their relationship–the slammed doors, the yelling matches, the coming home with a newborn and no money to afford baby formula–Wayne promised him, “Whatever it takes to make you happy. I’ll do it.”
The egg timer in the kitchen dinged.
“Breakfast’s ready,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and giving the quick-nod-with-a-flattened-smile older men were known for after confiding in one another, and he went inside.
There wasn’t much time for Eddie to process the weight of his internal decision before Adrie was climbing onto the loveseat. And if she noticed she left a trail of mud up his pant’s leg on her way to kneeling beside him, she didn’t care. All that mattered was her icicle skin melting in the warmth of his heavy arm wrapped around her middle; and effortlessly, she fell into the comfort of his embrace while working her hands beneath his hair, untucking it from his jacket’s collar, and hugging him back.
Eddie stashed the card in his pocket, and grabbed the unicorn by the back of its head, putting the nose to her cheek and pretending it was giving her kisses. “Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling strands of his curls around her fingers while her cold nose was pressed to his throat. “Can Miss Mouse come over to play?”
“Not today. She’s busy with her own celebrations.”
It was weird how calmly he could answer her. No twisted tongue sitting in his mouth like lead, no tensed stomach from an assault of nerves, no racing thoughts of you and Adrie becoming too close before he was ready to disappoint her. The fear was still there, of course. But he didn’t dread it. He held his daughter tucked against his body, and whispered into the unruly hair she inherited, “But she will soon, okay?”
“Yay!” She showed her excitement by constricting her arms around him in a perfect vice.
He wedged the unicorn between them and scooped her onto his hip. “What say you, Princess Adrienne? Shall we go in for a bit of Christmas morning casserole, and partake in reindeer games after getting you into your winter attire? Hmm?” She wasn’t responding. “Adrie?”
Her mouth was hung open, and her hand out, palm turned upward, making a grabby motion at something over his shoulder.
Eddie listened to her, and turned.
Snow fell, fell, fell from the low hanging clouds smudging the sky in shades of gray, bestowing the trailer park with fat flakes drifting beyond the safety of the porch, melting onto the dead grass and brushing past his car’s mirror. Pretty, pretty things of childlike magic Adrie caught on her fingertips. Special things floating to the edge of the wobbly floorboards, and sticking to his hair for her to laugh at.
“I love you,” he said in a kiss to her bitter cold cheek.
“Love you too, Daddy,” she replied in the same fashion, with an additional kiss from the unicorn to the tip of his nose.
Doors around the trailer park opened. Wide eyes of wonder gazed up, and around, searching for friends to celebrate with. Eddie felt exposed in his all black outfit against the growing landscape of white. They were looking at him. Judging him. Munson. But, unlike any other day, the desire to bolt from their intrusive stares dwindled with each graze of his thumb over the card in his pocket.
My tent was damaged due to the high summer heat.
The tents were worn out, and yesterday a little rain fell on me, destroying all of my mattress. The cost of the tent today exceeds $750.
I'm really sorry to say that, but your donation, even a little, saves my family
Can you help my family, which consists of two children, my elderly parents, and me and my wife?
🔗https://gofund.me/2adde3d1🔗
Please share & donate to Zinh!
I’m gonna say this ONCE MORE with feeling because somehow it’s still a surprise to people apparently...
I am a proshipper.
All that means is that I do not support (and will actively fight against) judgment, censorship, or bullying over fictional content. It does not mean I condone immoral things being done in real life. In fact, it means the opposite— that I will never harass real people over fictional content or allow threats or suicide bating to occur because of it.
If anyone has told you that proshipping is something else, you’ve been lied to. You do not have to read/write/draw dark content in order to be an adult and curate your space. If you don’t enjoy a specific thing, you filter/block/move on without calling anyone names or accusing them of being a horrible human being. It is that simple.
Censorship of immoral content is a slippery slope and has historically been used to hurt the LGBT+ community. Don’t buy into the idea that erasing things you dislike is a better solution than just choosing to look away if something doesn’t appeal to you.
I’m not even going to go into the argument of people using this sort of content to cope with trauma because nobody has to prove anything or have a reason for engaging with fiction, but maybe hold off on assuming you know why anyone chooses to engage with something others might find disturbing.
I’ve read hardcore dead dove fics that are less disturbing than things I’ve experienced in my actual life. Nobody gets to tell me how to cope and heal, thanks💛
im making this post to help support the fundraiser of @falestine-yousef, a 36 year old woman from gaza who is trying to save her family.
falestine's home was destroyed by the idf and her and her family have been made homeless. she recently gave birth to her son yousef during the war and had to immediately move into a tent where there is no access to clean water, food, sanitation, or really anything that a newborn child or mother need. so many women in gaza have had to give birth in the absolute worst conditions that are extremely dangerous, so it is urgent to raise money for this family. prices for everyday items like food and clean water are exorbitantly high and every donation can make a difference. her elderly parents are both suffering from health issues and need treatment that is simply unavailable in gaza right now. its so horrific that so many people have lost everything, so please donate and help this family.
this is a verified fundraiser. falestine is the sister of a few other people who have been fundraising on here for their families, and that is why they have photos of some of the same people in their posts. ive seen some confusion about her campaign so i want to make it clear this is a legit campaign and you should not hesitate to contribute. more information here on her family members campaigns, which you should donate to also
$10,729 raised of $40,000
#i have a dinosaur, a penguin, a strawberry and a round satoru gojo :3
If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.
My friend is embarrassed and thinks she’s the only one and I said id prove her wrong.
you dont need chatGPT to get inspired to write a fic, you need to listen to a song from the climax of the first act of a musical and imagine an epic scene with your blorbos
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
researcher!satoru whose field is theoretical physics and talks about quantum mechanics and cosmology like it's the most common thing in the world
researcher!satoru who, despite his young age, is absolutely brilliant at his job and is fascinated by boundaries (or the lack of them) and is known for making sarcastic remarks in high-level conferences and sassing other scientists for fun by proving them wrong in the most dramatic way possible
researcher!satoru whose recent work involves quantum signatures on black holes and is invited to the annual summit on theoretical astrophysics and quantum mechanics as a prestigious exhibitor and doesn't have any particular interest besides exposing his research and then leaving
researcher!satoru who met you while you were posing with your first poster ever about anisotropic signal and black holes activity, which was your undergraduate thesis work and your first publication of your rising career as a scientist
researcher!satoru who immediately thought of you as someone particularly too cute for your own good, all nervous and still in that university hall in between all the other thesis students presenting their papers
researcher!satoru who accidentally stumbles to take a look at your poster, his six feet tall bending over to read with luxury of detail every line and graph, not bothering to occupy his space and make his presence seen
researcher!satoru who chuckles at your evident nervousness and looks at you through his tinted glasses, your bambi eyes betraying how wrecked you were for talking about your research to THE satoru gojo
researcher!satoru who, despite his usual genius demeanor, this time actually listens, asks questions about your thesis, and even seems impressed at how well you manage the topic. from seeing him from afar like someone who scared anyone with his doubts and remarks, suddenly he didn't seem so appalling, but appealing instead
researcher!satoru who subtly takes mental notes of your name and contact info on your poster and stalks you shamelessly when he's finally alone in the coziness of his fancy hotel room, craving to know more about his intriguing soon-to-be-colleague
researcher!satoru who reaches out to you and sends lots of emails with questions, suggestions, and even contacts that, according to him, might help you in the future. all of that just to have something to talk about and keep you entertained in his orbit
researcher!satoru who's so obsessed with you that for the next big conference, finds out you'd show up again-- this time with an oral presentation of your increasingly refined thesis—, and with that being an opportunity that couldn't be missed, he flew all across the country just to see you (his own attendance lowering to second-grade importance compared to the desire to meeting you again)
researcher!satoru who claims you and takes you with him as soon as he sees you, not wanting you to talk to anyone besides him. why would you need all those people? you have plenty of time to chat with them later, but god knows when you will see each other again, can't you see?
researcher!satoru who pities you when you admitted you were on the border of a nervous crisis for having to, basically, lecture renowned scientists about their literal research field, but with totally new knowledge because it was something you brought into the world
researcher!satoru who swears has a secret to release your nerves and dispel any anxiety or discomfort before public speaking and convinces you to accompany him
researcher!satoru who subtly takes your hand in his and takes you to the restrooms of the building, making you wonder what type of secret he was talking about
researcher!satoru who put the door on the latch after making sure you two were alone and now is so dangerously close to you that he admits how crazy you're driving him for finally having you all to himself
researcher!satoru who kindly asks if you'd let him show him how much he wants you and his eyes sparkle when you consent because you know you want him too and you want him bad
researcher!satoru who takes you by the strap of your credential, bringing you closer and closing his soft lips with yours, exploring your silhouette with his hands with smitten eagerness
researcher!satoru who pins you against the nearest wall and lowers one of his hands to make contact with your crotch, slowly teasing the hem of your undies and parting your folds slenderly while he is getting even more nervous to make you feel good. did he really get more nervous than you were at first?
researcher!satoru who whispers in your ear how good he's going to fuck the nervousness away from you, promising it'll work
researcher!satoru who spreads your legs a bit wider so he can pump his fingers in and out of you, your arousal and muffled whimpers making him groan into your mouth, giving you tender kisses on your cheeks, forehead, lips, neck, and everywhere he could reach.
researcher!satoru who lets you hold onto his broad shoulders while he quickly makes you cum on his fingers, adrenaline rushing through your blood because what would happen if someone tried to open the door right now?
researcher!satoru who helps you adjust your clothes before you go back to the main hall, just in time for your presentation, winking at you right before letting you leave the bathroom
researcher!satoru who follows after you to see your pitch, and kindly congratulates you on his social media after your oral presentation saying how you nailed it and how promising your line of work was (something he never did)
researcher!satoru who insists on keeping in touch because there was definitely something else happening in between and he wanted to do something about his feelings (and is the happiest when you reciprocate)
researcher!satoru who, hours after, absolutely denies the possibility of stealing your panties when you told him you lost them after your meeting at the restroom (while secretly saving them under his pillow to play with at night)
researcher!satoru who, the next day, invites you to collaborate on a research project with him and you just know he'll be the death to you anytime soon
went to this congress the other day and had this silly vision :3 Y'ALL HEAR ME OUT
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tiredofeverythingandmyself reblogged this · 1 year ago -
tiredofeverythingandmyself reblogged this · 1 year ago
