#maybe I'll do the whole thing eventually. maybe

[gallawitchxx]

hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙

Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]

"How are things going so far?":

It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.

I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.

"Playtester's advice":

I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.

To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]

I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]

"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":

As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.

I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]

[buildarocketboys]

Some Team Castle shenanigans for @mygangtome day 2024. Written in an hour on my lunch break, unedited, Allan, Marian and Guy go out to the tavern, semi-crackish

"Allan," Marian hisses from the end of the corridor. "You need to help me sneak out of the castle."

Allan sighs and rolls his eyes. "You know I can't do that, Marian. Giz banned the Nightwatchman."

Marian huffs. "I wasn't going to sneak out to be the Nightwatchman."

Allan eyes her dubiously.

"Well, all right, maybe I was. But I just want to get out! Take me to a tavern or something, I don't care! I just need to get out of this damn castle."

Allan raises his eyebrows. He doesn't think he's ever heard Marian swear before. "All right," he says, hands on hips. "But I'll have to ask Giz for his permission. And you never know, he might want to come too."

"I don't care," says Marian. "I'll go to the tavern with the Sheriff if it'll get me out of here for five minutes!"

"Fine, I'll ask him," says Allan. "No promises, mind." He looks at her sceptically. "Have you even been to a tavern before?"

"I can hold my wine, thank you very much," Marian says, which means no.

Allan smirks. "We'll see," he says.

Gisborne is horrified at first.

"A tavern? Lady Marian?"

Allan pleads her case pretty well, especially since he's not quite sure he believes it himself. He's not convinced that Marian won't run off to the forest or start giving alms to the poor the minute Guy's back is turned.

He can see Guy starting to waver.

"Very well," he says eventually. "Under one condition."

"Yeah?" says Allan. "What's that?"

"I will accompany Lady Marian to the...tavern," he says, as if the word is an unpleasant bite of food.

"Yeah, great," says Allan. "I might head down too."

Guy looks strained. "Allan, you don't have to-"

"Yeah, but I want to. What, are you gonna ban me from going down the pub?"

Guy bears his teeth at him. "I should do." He sighs. "Fine. You may come."

"Didn't actually need your permission, but thanks Giz," Allan chirps, then leaves before Guy starts throwing things at him.

The company isn't exactly diverting to start with. Guy buys the first round of drinks, looking suspiciously over his shoulder at Marian and Allan the whole time. He sets them on the table and they sit in silence.

"So, Gisborne," Allan says. "How's the leather working out for you? Look still in?"

Marian hides an undignified snort of laughter in her hands. Guy looks at her sharply before turning to Allan. "It's comfortable," he says.

Marian raises her eyebrows. "Is it?"

"Yes, actually," Guy says, drawing himself up in a dignified manner. "And protective. Much less cumbersome than actual armour, but it does the job."

Marian looks surprised. "Well, I never knew that."

"Me neither," says Allan.

They lapse back into silence.

By the second round of drinks, however, everyone starts to loosen up. Allan plonks them on the table.

"Cheers, Giz, Maz," Allan says, raising his tankard, and neither of them tell him off for the nickname.

"What should we call you?" Marian says. "Al? Az?"

She lets out a snort and Guy joins her in laughter, to all of their surprises. 

"I'm gonna use that from now on," he says, gesturing towards Allan.

He sets his tankard down. "I shouldn't drink anymore, the Sheriff wants me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

"C'mon, live a little, Giz," Allan says.

"Yes, Guy, you need to loosen up," Marian says, bursting into giggles for no apparent reason. Allan had known she'd be a total lightweight.

Guy rolls his eyes and sighs, then drains half the tankard in one. Allan cheers while Marian laughs in delight, attempting to copy him and spilling half the pint down her dress.

"Oh drat!" she says.

Guy shakes his head fondly and offers her a handkerchief.

"Thanks Guy."

By the third round, both Marian and Guy are well and truly drunk, and Allan's well on his way to tipsy.

"Sure you don't wanna go home already?" Marian teases Guy.

"Nah," he says, taking a big gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck the Sheriff."

Marian howls with laughter and Allan can't help but join her. People are starting to look in their direction, but Guy and Marian don't seem to notice.

"Fuck the Sheriff!" says Marian, raising her tankard and clinking it against Guy's, then Allan's. 

"To drinking!" says Allan.

"To ale!" says Guy.

"To friends," says Marian, catching them both in her little smile. Allan feels pleasantly numb, happy in the company of two people who have been enemies, allies and superiors to him, but who right now are friends.

"To friends," he repeats.

"To friends," Guy says. He's wearing an odd look on his face, one Allan can't quite read.

"On that note, I need to visit the privy," Marian says. "Where is it?"

"Outside." Allan gestures vaguely, noting the distasteful look on Marian's face as she gets up.

Once she's left, Gisborne rests a hand on his shoulder. Allan turns to him and is surprised to see his eyes filled with tears.

"Guy?" Allan asks tentatively.

"Allan," Guy says miserably. "Allan, what can I do to make her love me?"

Allan takes a deep breath. He should have known Gisborne would be a weepy drunk. "Well, she's your friend. That's a start, right?"

And then Guy is weeping into his chest. "Why won't she love me, Allan? I just want her to love me."

Allan pats the back of Guy's head awkwardly. "There, there," he says. Guy continues sobbing into his shoulder, but luckily doesn't say anything else.

"Allan, I can't walk straight," Marian says, tottering back to their table. Allan's almost surprised that she's come back - he'd half expected her to run off. 

Then she notices Guy weeping into Allan's shoulder. "Guy? What's wrong?"

Guy lets out another wracking sob and doesn't answer, which Allan is secretly grateful for. He came out for a relaxing night of drinking - the last thing he needs is for Marian and Guy to have it out here and now.

"He's just a bit drunk," Allan says, answering for him. "C'mon, help me get him back to the castle. We don't want the Sheriff to see him like this."

Marian nods, trying to look more sober than she is, and helps Allan get Guy up.

"Not the Sheriff, no, no, nooo," he moans. "Allan, you can't let the Sheriff see me like this, OK?"

"On it, boss," Allan says. Marian sniggers.

"Or Marian," Guy says. "She can't see me like this."

"Um," says Marian, her arm already around his shoulders.

"ALLAN!" Guy yells, giving him an earful about letting Marian near him in this state as they wrangle him out of the tavern.

"Jeez, a little gratitude would be nice," he says as Guy lapses into tears again.

They manage to make it back to the castle without being spotted. Marian helps Allan lay Guy down on the bed.

"Well," she says, looking awkward (and a lot more sober than she was half an hour ago). "Goodnight Allan."

"G'night Marian," Allan says.

"Goodnight, Guy," she calls, but Guy doesn't respond.

"Don't worry," Allan says confidently. "He'll have forgotten this by the morning."

"I hope so," says Marian. She smiles. "Thank you for arranging tonight," she says. "I had a good time."

Then she's gone. Allan is astonished. She really did just want to go out and spend time with them.

Maybe that'll be a comfort to Guy later, he thinks, as he helps the man undress and get into bed.

"Stay," Guy begs as Allan is about to head for the door. He pauses.

"Are- are you sure?" he says. "I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning screaming like a little girl about me being in your bed."

Guy snorts, the tears apparently over for now. "It'd take a lot more for you to make me scream, Allan."

Allan wonders if he realises how dirty that sounds.

Guy sighs. "I need you to wake me up in time to meet with the Sheriff," he says. "So I need you to stay. That's all."

"That's all," Allan repeats.

"Yes." Guy eyes him narrowly, then pulls back the covers. "Get in."

Trying not to smirk, Allan gets into bed next to Guy. "You had better not throw up on me, Giz, that's all I'm saying. Otherwise, you and me are through."

Allan expects some kind of response to that, an elbow in the ribs at the very least. He twists round to look at Guy and realises he's fallen asleep, gently snoring, pressed up against Allan.

Allan sighs and resigns himself for a restless night.

[butch--dean]

toxic destiel rights <3

[weird-an]

A stupid advertisement for Surfer Boy Pizza. Along Route 1, starting in San Francisco and ending up in San Diego. Photos in every city they have a store at. A job that pays ridiculously well according to Billy.

"C'mon, do you really want to spend all your summer here?" Billy waves at their tiny kitchen where he just had to fix the sink again last week.

"You'll die here in fucking Hawkins, if you don't get out, Harrington!"

Moving in a shitty apartment with Billy Hargrove was the worst and the best decision Steve ever made in his life after his breakup with Nancy. It never gets boring and staring at a nice ass and abs whenever Billy decides shirts are a nuisance definitely helps to forget about broken dreams of a white picket fence and six kids.

"Why did they ask you to model for it? Don’t they have enough models in California?"

"Let’s just say I know a guy," Billy licks his teeth and winks at Steve. Sometimes Steve wonders if Billy really slept with all the guys he has been hinting at or if he's just a big fat liar - he tries not to think about it too hard though, because there is unreasonable jealousy hidden underneath these thoughts.

"And we both got the job."

"Both," Steve echoes. "I'm not a model."

"You've got a pretty face and I sent them the photos from graduation." Billy shrugs, but his ears turn a little red like always when he isn’t as unbothered as he seems.

Wait. Graduation. Billy isn't talking about the photos when they both put on his mother’s evening dresses after spending too much time at the keg stand with Tommy, is he?

"You fucking asshole!" Steve's cheeks burn, but its more because he remembers how good Billy looked in that flimsy blue dress.

"Takes one to know one." Billy gives him a dazzling smile like he's already on a poster. "So, whatcha sayin'?"

Steve thinks about the bunch of rejection letters sitting on his nightstand, his father’s disappointed rant about his son not able to get into college for another year and Robin's last postcard encouraging him to come see her in San Francisco.

"Fine. Whatever." Steve tries to ignore his twisting stomach when Billy's face lights up.

"Great, because I already signed us up."

Steve is sure Billy's name is just a synonym for audacity sometimes.

He rolls his eyes. "So thoughtful. Someone really needs to teach you some manners."

Billy laughs, all white teeth and sunshine. "You can try, pretty boy, you can try."

[yudol-skorbi]

i cant fucking draw real life people

[cornertheculprit]

something i think is equal parts funny and sad is that in the bad ending of 2-4 phoenix says that he never sees maya again, and then goes on to say that a few days later is when he hears the results of adrian andrews' trial. like if you look at the phrasing it seems to imply that he hit the streets the minute he left the courthouse and didn't see maya for 0.2 seconds and then was like "i'll never see her again" because she didn't magically show up in front of him and then started avoiding him to obviously deal with the fallout of an innocent person getting convicted for her sake. it's mostly sad though.

[supersymmetries]

i've finally reached the part in the semester where we're covering the second law of thermodynamics. matt bellamy we're in it together now

[chaotic-history]

The book I'm reading rn has a couple Bible quotes in French and idk what version they're using but the language is so like.. not casual exactly, but. Very 'normal' ig? Anyway seeing the Bible not in Distinctly Bible Language™️ is very jarring

[couldbebetterforsure]

Why the fuck you lyin'?

Why you always lyin'?

Hmmmmm Oh my god

Stop fucking lying!

[diabolikpersonals]

I wanted to ask you two questions if that's all right. I'm just confused. First question: are the Tsukinamis also related to Shu, Reiji, Subaru, and the Mukamis, or are they just related to the triplets? Second Question: Are the Mukamis and Sakamakis related? While the Mukamis weren't adopted by the Karlheinz, they still looked up to him as a father figure, even referring to him as such, and Karl even raised them, even if he was just using them in the end.

The Tsukinamis are related to the triplets (Cordelia, the mother of the triplets, is their cousin!) which makes them related to Shu, Reiji, and Subaru by marriage (Cordelia married Karl Heinz, who is their father).

The relationship between the Mukamis and the others is really up to interpretation! I'm sorry that's not a very strong answer but it's true. You could think of the Mukamis as Karl Heinz's adopted kids (which would make the Sakamakis and Mukamis brothers by adoption) or you could think of the Mukamis as some kids that Karl Heinz kidnapped for his weird experiment (which would mean they're not related, even if they saw Karl Heinz as a father figure).

On one hand, like you said, they weren't exactly ADOPTED by Karl Heinz. He took them in, but he had an ulterior motive. They wanted to see Karl Heinz as a father but in lots of cases, it doesnt end really end up that way; they have a certain amount of distance between them, like the Mukamis are aware they're just fulfilling a purpose for him. But on the other hand, the Mukamis very clearly see themselves as a family despite never having been adopted together, and it would probably mean a lot to them to refer to Karl Heinz as their father. I think both approaches are totally fine.

It's really difficult to prove that either interpretation is the correct one, so please just go with whatever you like better!

[afooldyedinfolly]

Bite, Stalk, Pirate, Mermaid

14. PIRATE - Which of your OCs is most evil?

So this is a great question.

My joke response is probably Foggy. My serious response is one of five candidates: Vasyl, Nicolai, Glyris, Arin, Kaya.

The first three are very much evil in very real ways. They're all deeply abusive and manipulative people that you can definitely find in the real world, in your normal day to day life.

Arin is also someone you can find in real life, but someone you are unlikely to actually encounter. Your life will still be influenced by his presence due to his position of power, but it's very unlikely that you will actually ever meet him face to face.

Kaya is evil in the way that fantasy embodiments of evil are.

STALK - God I cannot pick just one. Uhh a few off the top of my head include Johnathan Stroud, Harlan Ellison, Diana Wynne Jones, Richard Adams, Michael Ende, Lemony Snicket, Cornelia Funke, I don't know if Shakespeare counts but I'm counting him fuck you, and a whooole bunch of others.

BITE - Now I KNOW Geo sent this one and I will not accept you saying you didn't >:p

Uh, in canon, it's probably either Nikita or Katarina. Succubus and Vila and all that giving a +5 in charisma and whatnot. As far as people going .///. in response to them? Probably Dandelion, people love the buff goth girl, and honestly, probably one of the signs that good taste isn't dead. My personal opinion though? Uhhhh, I'm going to saaay, probably also Dandelion.

Mermaid - What about both?? Why pit two bad bitches against each other?

Serious answer, it depends. I like sci fi more when the sci fi is thematic rather than cosmetic. If it is a story less about the appeal of lazer guns and space and moreso poses questions about the repercussions of advancement of technology and such, I'm more likely to be invested in it than a fantasy. Sorry I think dragons are cooler than spaceships. If you are just or are primarily aesthetics I want the fantasy instead. Also if you are a sci fi that is more concerned with Hard Scientific Explanations about things than actually telling a story I hate you.

But also. Yeah. Both.

[dusterson]

i'm having adult!Dustin thoughts

So I'm thinkin my Dustin doesn't end up going to college. During late high school, he occasionally works at fast food joints, thrift stores, and the like. It lasts about as long as his temper could deal with the lovely customers he'd encounter on a regular basis (which isn't long at all). He does graduate, though, despite an increasing struggle to focus on school. But college? No. He doesn't want to keep that struggle going; he's done his academic time, and he's gotten really good at pilfering books.

Attempts by his mother to get him into psychiatric help are close to futile, with Dustin unable to convey to anyone the kinds of things he's experienced and the… dreams, he keeps having. Dustin's temper only shortens all the more. It breaks Claudia's heart every time he explains to her that he's not interested in college, seeing the spiral he's clearly going down but at a loss to slow its descent. And when he gets a job as a sanitation worker around age 19-20, she's terrified. He'd spend his first couple years as a janitor, then as a garbage collector.

Eventually, he starts looking for a place of his own, possibly someone to split rent with. So long as it's out of his mother's house, where she can't fret over his chosen job or his drinking and smoking habits or the fights he gets in or the petty theft or his late night walks into the woods...

Addition: He does get into mechanics, but mostly as a hobby. Whatever vehicle he ends up getting (either a pickup truck or a motorcycle I'm thinkin, maybe both eventually), it's probably acquired while a little... unusable, secifically so he can fix it up himself. Add a few lil custom things. Definitely not a rocket launcher. Of course not... don't be silly ahaha...

He also has a unibrow-- my Dustin just seems to have a unibrow regardless of age LMAO

[thepatchycat]

Last Sentence Tag Game

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip (or post where you last left off in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

Thanks to @existentialscientist for the tag! This is more than a line (felt odd not to have the previous paragraph for context) and not technically from the most recent thing I've poked at, but I need to motivate myself to work on this one again.

Padme steps carefully around the little speederbike parked just inside the entrance and then finds herself effectively in the middle of the apartment two seconds later.  Ahsoka’s apartment is… small.  Smaller than Padme’s closet.  The single main room is furnished with a bed, a tiny kitchenette, and a door that presumably leads to a refresher.

“Do you want any—well, uh, water?  I don’t have tea, sorry.”

– from Defiance, a Star Wars fix-it longfic that's been simmering in my WIPs for almost 2 years so far and is nowhere near finished

No pressure, of course, but I'll tag @squirrelwriter and @good-beans! And I know it's a cop-out, but if you're reading this and want to share something, consider yourself tagged as well :P

[angeltism]

hmph . withdrawals

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

i've been itching to redo my blog's theme and everything, i need to change things somehow in some way