This Is Not Okay, Please Share Guys.

Ok so, this was on my FB and I recorded it on my phone cause it was just too cute I could not not share this. And so, I resent to you...!

Dancing Robot Noodle!!!

I love him💜💜💜

When you have a bad writing session and someone asks how it went...

On the Internet, there are spaces that are moderated and meant to be safe for kids, and spaces that aren’t. Nintendo has very strict content rules and adults that play games like Splatoon are expected to follow those rules. When I was 10, my Mom found a lovely Animal Crossing fan forum that was run by a dedicated team of moderators who kept all content safe for kids. These kinds of spaces are deliberately carved out to create fannish spaces that are safe for child fans where adults are welcome to participate but must follow the content rules.

Tumblr and Ao3 are not spaces like this. Adults are allowed to post what they want so long as appropriate content warnings are attached. While Tumblr desktop is open for teenagers under 18 (the mobile app is still 17+) it’s a good opportunity for them to learn how to police their own consumption of content, respect the boundaries that adults set for that content, avoid things that bother them, and start to see people in different age groups as peers rather than authority figures. Don’t like it? Go back to a forum where there are adults who are willing to filter content for you. Think their content rules are too strict? Well, learning to moderate your own fannish experience is part of growing up and handling the maturity required for having your own freedom.

what if empyrean suite was just caramelldansen

Can you do a rung x femme reader where the reader is one of rungs patients. Preferably nsfw but fluff is cool too.

Rung X Reader - Immoral

A/N – I played about with this so much I my head, and I can finally say that I’m happy with the end result.

Warnings – NSFW / SMUT

Rating – M

How did life come to be this way? For Rung things had never been simple, but he couldn’t ever remember life being so hard either. As you laid back on the small sofa that he’d gotten for you, telling him about any problems you were having on the ship, he could barely concentrate. Instead, he was staring at your face, your eyes, your soft skin, all of your human imperfections that to him made you perfect.

‘I love you,’ he thought, and it was that single thought that caused him so much pain.

Rung had always had trouble defining the line between patient and friend, but this was far worse. He wanted to be your everything. He wanted to be your friend, confidante, only love, but all he would ever be was your therapist.

“Are you okay?” You asked and it took Rung a minute to realise that you were talking to him.

His cooling fans clicked on in embarrassment and he blushed somewhat guiltily. “Ah, yes, yes, I’m perfectly alright. I was merely reflecting on your current predicament.”

You had a feeling that wasn’t true and that Rung was distracted, though seeing as this was a first, you didn’t press the matter. “Great, then if you don’t mind, I’ll give you time to further reflect on that and maybe we can talk later… Say over drinks at ‘Visages’?”

Your invitation did nothing to sooth Rung’s tumultuous thoughts and he had to force his mind away from the possibility of a stronger relationship with you. “I’m sorry (Y/N), I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

You smiled sympathetically jumping down from his desk, “You know Rung, life will only be lonely if you treat everyone as patients instead of friends outside of work. Whether you decide to come or not, I’ll be waiting. Think on it.”

With that, you left, and Rung was sure he would be able to do nothing but ‘think on it.’ How could he not, when the possibility to be something more to you than just a therapist loomed over him.

———————————————————————————————————–

Rung stood outside “Visages” for an uncomfortably long time, wondering what he was even doing there. On one servo, he shouldn’t indulge himself by spending time outside office hours with one of his patients, but on the other servo, you were right; his life was very lonely. He paused to clean his glasses, using the time to think further on the matter.

To be fair, he could just walk in and give a cursory visit; it wasn’t as if it was forbidden to speak to you, especially after he had been invited. He did wonder however, if you would even still be there; you hadn’t specified a time, but this was extremely late organic standards.

Rung put his glasses back on with a sense of finality. He would go in, go to the bar and order a cocktail as a special treat for himself, then he would survey the area to see if you were there. If you were, he would accompany you for a short while, because it would be rude to do otherwise, and if you had already left, then Rung would be left in his own company as usual.

Rung entered the club, trying not to appear too nervous as he scanned the dim room for you. He was about to go to the bar when he spotted you in one of the corner booths. You were dancing on the table, surrounded by laughing mechs, while Getaway pushed an alcoholic drink towards you, saying you had to strip for it.

Rung flushed with fury, deducing that the crew had probably lulled you into a false sense of security, giving you drinks until you were too overcharged to say ‘no.’ It wasn’t surprising that a group of overcharged mechs would take advantage of you in such a way. Many had little experience with organics and would do just about anything to toy with the fragile beings, but this was too much. One look at your mussed-up hair, unfocused eyes, and definitive wobble and you danced was enough to tell anyone that you weren’t doing anything of your own volition anymore.

Before you could reveal any more of your stomach, Rung marched over to the table, shielding you with his servos as best he could.

“Gentlemen,” He said in his sternest tone, though it would be considered rather soft by anyone else’s standards, “I think it’s clear that (Y/N) is in need of some rest now.”

“Oooh, big talk from such a wimpy mech,” One of the voices chimed in, though the mech in question was clearly too drunk to pick a fight past rude insults.

“Yeah, come on Reng,” Getaway slurred, “She was just giving us a little show.”

“Well, the show’s over now,” Rung huffed.

“(Y/N), come on, tell glasses here that you don’t want to stop. We were having fun, weren’t we?”

You groaned, the alcohol finally hitting your system now you had stopped moving. “I don’t feel so good.”

Rung wanted to say that he was going to send a strongly worded message to their communicators and to Ultra Magnus the next cycle to punish the five mechs for their brutish behaviour, but that would have to wait because you were his first priority.

He took you from the club, carrying you carefully to your room, flinching whenever he moved to sharply causing you to groan sickly. Once in the safety of your hab-suite, he laid you down on your plush blue bed, moving your hair from your face and grabbing a glass of water for you. He was thankful for the years spent making model ships, for they gave him the grace required to use your considerably smaller items; he was also glad he had taken the time to study up on human behaviour and needs from the few mechs that had encountered organics in the past.

“(Y/N),” Rung said gently, offering the glass of water to you. “Please can you drink some of this? I think it will make you feel better.”

You murmured something that Rung couldn’t make out, reaching out for the glass of water and taking a few small sips, bringing some of the colour back to your cheeks.

“That’s a good girl, keep that up.”

You snickered, placing the glass on the bedside table, and pushing your hair out of your eyes. “Am I your good girl, daddy?”

Rung frowned, missing the organic humour, “Excuse me?”

“Rung… Why didn’t you come earlier?” You whined, momentarily forgetting your previously playful mood.

“I’m sorry I was late (Y/N). If I’d have been there- Well, I’m here now and I won’t leave till you’re well.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Overcharged is a type of sick, though I’ve heard it is easily fixed with some rest for humans.”

“We could fix it faster,” You grinned.

“Oh yes? And how do we do that?” Rung asked sweetly, all ears for anything that might make you better.

“You could fuck me.”

Rung looked at you solemnly, not getting flustered like you had expected. As a psychiatrist, he was used to the effects high-grade energon had on some Cybertronians, and he knew from Ratchet that humans weren’t much different. It was no surprise your libido was up, considering how much you had drank. He tried not to take it personally, though it hurt him to think you would have probably offered yourself to any mech that had taken you home from that god-awful abuse.

“I would say it’s better that you rest now (Y/N). Some sleep would benefit you wonderfully.”

“Aww, don’t be shy. It’s okay to have sex with someone you love, silly.”

“I beg your pardon?” Rung blushed, his cooling fans clicking on.

You flopped down on your bed exasperatedly. “Tailgate told me. He said, ‘Rung and (Y/N) riding in the ship, if he proposed it would be hip.’ And he’s right, that rhyme was dope.”

Rung sighed, wondering how many other mechs knew of his feelings towards you, other than Tailgate.

“Buuuuuuuuut,” You drawled, “When you are right, which is always, then you are right. And that means that consent is important. Whatever you wear an wherever you go, YES MEANS YES AND NO MEANS NO! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

Rung grabbed a Cybertronian sized chair, sitting down whilst sighing deeply, his processor whirring through methods that might help the situation, though he came up empty. “(Y/N), please…” He begged brokenly.

As if his sheer tone soothed you, you gave him a thumbs up, “Okay, got it. Sleeping the night away. You don’t like the nightlife, or to boogie. I get it, and I will sleep with or without you, beautiful.”

Rung said nothing and simply waited until you did as you promised and went to sleep. He remained there all night to keep an eye on you in case your intoxication caused you any further problems, and all the while he feared what your relationship would become in the morning. It was bad enough you pitied him enough to offer yourself for a night, but what would you say when you were sober? One thing was for sure; he couldn’t go back to calling you his patient ever again. Rung took off his glasses, and with one cursory check to make sure you weren’t going to wake up, he turned off his vocaliser and began to cry.

———————————————————————————————————–

When you awoke, you were glad not to have a hangover, remembering the copious amount of alcohol you had consumed the previous night. Although your head was alright, you still had to wrinkle your nose in disgust at the awful taste lingering in your mouth; there could be no doubt that your breath was strong enough to kill a horse.

You didn’t dare get up just yet, remembering with great regret the way you had acted the previous night. It was horrifying that you had let Getaway and his gang take advantage of you in such a manner, but what was worse was the things you had said to Rung. How would he react, you wondered, when you were to next speak to him? You tried not to cry, thinking that you had probably ruined your relationship with him forever. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and naturally, you had feelings for him, but after acting in such a crass manner you were sure Rung wouldn’t want to have anything more to do with you; he was so genteel and chivalrous.

The gentle hum of a fan slowly caught your attention and you turned your head to find an exhausted looking Rung sat watching you from his chair next to the door.

“Oh God,” You cringed, pinching the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. Of course he was there. He was a gentleman, and he would never leave you in a moment of need. Well, at least you didn’t taste vomit which meant that you only had to deal with your drunk horny vulgarity without adding gross organic matter to the list as well.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Rung asked quietly, putting your needs before his own as he did with anyone.

“Physically, I’m peachy. Emotionally… Rung, I am so sorry for last night. I would never have said those things like that if I hadn’t been-”

Rung held up his servo, acting as maturely as ever, “It is quite alright (Y/N). I am sure there will be some repercussions about last night that we can discuss later, but for now… Well, we don’t need to discuss the matter any further.”

He got up to leave, only stopping at the door when you called for him to wait. He faced you, waiting for whatever was to come, however unpleasant it might be. You had already broken his spark upon telling him you never would have said such things sober, what more damage could you possibly do?

“I cannot let you put this conversation off Rung. I think we need to talk about this right now… Actually, in five minutes when I’ve brushed my teeth, but I can put that off if you’re going to leave.”

Holding back a sigh, Rung sat back down in the chair, allowing you time to freshen up first. Once you were reasonably clean and dressed, you sat back down on the edge of your bed, respecting the boundaries he had laid out, though you longed to be closer to him.

“Okay, so…” You swallowed somewhat anxiously. “I um- Well, I already told you what Tailgate said, but I never asked you how you feel. I’m going to ask now, and please answer truthfully, Rung, are you really in love with me?”

After everything that had happened since Rung set foot in that awful club last night, he found no point in lying and further making the situation worse. He took his glasses off to look you directly in the eyes, answering solemnly, “Yes.”

“For how long?”

That was a more difficult question for Rung to answer. How did one truly tell when fondness became affection, and affection became love? He supposed it must have been during your sessions together, when you would often speak not as a patient, but as a friend. All the same, Rung found an answer forming on his lips, “Since you started staying over in my sessions, even though I didn’t ask you to.”

“Right… Then can I say just one more thing to clear things up?”

Rung gazed at you with optics filled with melancholy, wondering just how long you could prolong his suffering.

“Here, now, sober, I want you to know that my heart belongs to you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Rung’s mouth hung open.

“I don’t know if you believe in soulmates, but I do, and I can tell you, even before we met, I was yours.”

Rung shook his head, repeatedly whispering “no,” whilst trying not to cry again. It couldn’t be true. It had to be some residual effects of the alcohol, and yet there you were, telling him that you loved him back. “(Y/N), this is wrong, we can’t- I’myour psychiatrist- I-”

Rung wasn’t sure when you had approached him, but he was silenced when you climbed onto his lap. Reverently, you pressed your lips to his, not lingering too long.

“Did that really feel wrong to you, Rung?” You asked.

He shook his head, yet still finding an argument in him, he pleaded with you, “But, my ethical code…”

“Go against your ethics. Let me love you.”

———————————————————————————————————–

Rung moaned as you rested on his chassis, sucking his lower lip in your much smaller mouth. He hadn’t meant for things to go so far so quickly, but after you reciprocated his feelings for him, he couldn’t bear to part with you. He had only meant to kiss you once, but after countless time yearning for one-another, neither of you could stop.

He shuddered as you stroked the sensitive casing of his spark. Did you know how crazy you were driving him?

“I love you,” You breathed between kisses, moving to the left so you could tug at his neck cables; you had heard somewhere or other that this was hot for Cybertronians and you hoped it was true.

Rung gasped, throwing his head back.

“Sorry,” You cringed. “Did that hurt?”

Usually, Rung would correct your behaviour and tell you that tugging neck cables was only for couples who trusted each other wholeheartedly after years of experience. Yet, feeling your small hands reach places he’d never considered being touched was unbelievably erotic and he found himself placing all his trust in you when he shook his head and spoke raggedly, “Please, do it again.”

You smirked, glad that the seedy talk of other mechs had paid off as you tugged at Rung’s neck cables again, running your tongue and teeth over them afterwards.

Wanting to repay the pleasure you were giving him in full, Rung dared to ask, “What feels good to humans (Y/N)? I want to please you.”

You tugged off your shirt and bra, leading Rung’s servos to your breasts, “You could never fail to please me, my darling, but here is a good place to start.”

Rung kneaded your soft flesh tenderly, delighting in the sounds you made when his thumb glided over your sensitive nipples.

“Fuck. That’s so good~” You whispered.

Despite your praise, Rung paused to frown.

“Rung, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just- I’m- Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you.”

You crossed your arms over your bare chest somewhat self-consciously, a light blush creeping over your cheeks, “Do you not want to do this with me?”

Rung cursed himself for hurting your feelings. There was nothing he wanted more, but the fear of complicating your relationship scared him. Instead, he took hold of your hands, removing them from your chest so he could admire you. “My spark, I want nothing more than to devour you here and now, but I need to know that you are ready for this.”

“Rung, I have a wetness between my legs right now that says I am absolutely ready for this.”

“Then please, allow me to tend to that, my spark,” Rung purred, switching positions so you were on the floor and he was looming over you. When you stripped the rest of your clothes off, Rung made sure you knew exactly how beautiful he found you, especially your beautiful organic valve, which he lapped at with the tip of his tongue. He was careful not to delve too deeply in case you couldn’t take his size, though he longed for a day in the future when he had prepared you enough to take not only his tongue, but his spike as well.

“Fuck,” You groaned as your hips bucked against his tongue, dripping your own arousal down your thighs. He was making such a mess of you already and you couldn’t even repay him in the state you were in. You managed to look up, finding that Rung had one of his servos on his spike, rubbing beads of trans-fluid from the tip while he serviced you.

“Please, keep talking like that,” Rung begged raggedly. “I need to know I’m doing a good job.”

“I want more of you, big boy. You better lap up all that cum if you truly want to devour me.”

Rung wasted no time, moaning as he lapped up your sweet juices. Tonight would be all about you; you had given him your love, so the least he could do was give you a good orgasm.

“Ahh, shit~” You bit your knuckles as Rung hit what he figured to be your anterior node. He grew ever more confident with his mouth as your legs started quivering around his mouth. “Fuck, Rung! You’re- Fuck- You’re finishing me off too soon.”

Granted, the two of you hadn’t been at it long, but Rung wanted desperately to see your face when you climaxed; he would be sure to hold that memory forever.

“Let go (Y/N). I want to taste your overload. Let me drink in your lust,” He smiled, going straight back to work on your clitoris until you were reduced to a squeaking mess, unable to say anything but his name.

You felt your body practically melt and you screamed in the throes of pleasure as you orgasmed against Rung’s mouth.

He dragged his tongue from your vagina to your thighs, drinking in the reward he had earned.

“Beautiful,” He purred, “As I suspected.”

You wanted to say something witty or charming in return, but you only managed to gasp as Rung went right back to work, playing with your breasts. He had only just got you, and he would be sure to show his love and appreciation for you all night long.

———————————————————————————————————–

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That post about death note being “everyone’s first anime” (untrue statement) made me curious and now I want to gather data for science

Can you reblog this and tell me where are you from and what was your starter anime?

I'm the Temple!

guys I made an ‘if you were a deity, what would you be the god of?’ quiz! it’s somewhere between the greek gods and astrology and hopefully it’s fun and a little weird :))

Joker sighed as he laid on the gurney. He was so sick of this. Of getting hurt in the most menial ways, then ending up in the medbay. It never got easier, just more and more boring. He groaned, gripping the side bar in frustration. He didn't know why he was there. It was just his arm. And not even his full arm, just his ulna. And his ulna wasn't even broken, it was just cracked!

"Calm down, Jeff. Let it go," he told himself.

He then took a breath and closed his eyes, laying his head back. He knew the rules. All injuries, especially his, needed to be reported and treated; no matter how stupid he thought it was. Still gripping the bar, he looked down at his other arm, stiff as a board and wrapped gently in a cast.

"Ridiculous. But I guess I could use a nap."

He had been overworking himself lately, which is how he fractured his arm in the first place. He'd earned a break, or at least that's how he justified it. He hated not working, not being productive, but it's not like he could do anything else. He wasn't cleared to leave, so he simply gave in to the fatigue.

Before long he was out cold, sleeping soundly. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but when he woke it was with a start. He'd heard a loud click that shook his dreams, but when he opened his eyes he was greeted with only darkness. That was disorienting, but he quickly deduced the lights must've blown a fuse.

No problem, he thought. He could fix that blindfolded. With a groan he moved to sit up, but froze when his legs and arm fought against him.

"What the—?"

He couldn't see, but he could feel. It took him a moment to realize, but his legs were tucked between the middle bars of the gurney, his uninjured arm handcuffed to the side rail.

"What the fuck?!"

His reaction was instinctual, but dangerous. Trying to brute force his way out hurt, his legs shaking as he tried to slide them through the gaps. After some wriggling he realized he'd definitely be able to pull his legs out, but only with the help of his arm.

He was stuck. A brief flurry of fear rocked his body, then anger. He tried to reach for the cuffs with his casted arm, but he could barely lift it. As he tried, his toes curled with desperation, his muscles flexing.

And that's when he noticed: his pants were gone.

"What the hell?! Doc, did you do this?! Is anyone there?! Hello?!"

He didn't get a response, but he did get an action. Fingers. He felt the shock of them touching his inner thighs, then slowly traveling upwards. The pit in his stomach returned as he was forced to accept this wasn't a medical examination, and whoever was touching him definitely wasn't Doctor Chakwas. These hands were rough, ragged, and clearly knew what they were searching for.

And they found it. Joker gasped as three of those fingers found his secret. His clit. They pinched it gently, sending a wave of pleasure shooting up his spine. He tried not to cry out, but he couldn't help it. It was so sudden, so unexpected, and it hit all the right nerves in his sensitive little cunt.

"S-stop! Get the fuck off'a me!"

He tried to pull at his cuffs, but the smallest yank sent pain radiating up his arm, and that pain triggered a horrible bout of clarity. Any attempt to fight back would do more harm than good, so he swiftly gave up. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew, logically, that he'd lose regardless. He could lose and remain mostly intact, or he could lose and break every bone in his body.

"Shit..." he sobbed, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his entire life.

And then, suddenly, he felt something cold press against his entrance. His eyes popped as whatever it was spread his crease, probing somewhere it shouldn't have. He reacted as if in pain, if only to prise some sympathy from his assailant, but they said nothing. They only pushed harder until the thick, metallic object slipped inside.

"Augh!"

Joker grit his teeth, his fingers squeezing the bar he was cuffed to. Something was inside him, stretching him, pushing deeper. He felt every inch rub against his neglected walls as they strained to adjust. He tried desperately to see who was doing this, but it was just too dark. Pitch black, even. But the fingers kept working his clit, rolling it in no particular rhythm as the object slipped deeper and deeper with the aid of his building slick.

"Ugh! S-stop..."

It felt so good. He hadn't felt this good in a very, very long time. But he still wanted it to stop. It wasn't right. It was rape. It didn't matter how good it felt—did it? He winced, his eyes squinting shut as the object reached its goal, slamming into his cervix.

"Ah!"

He was full. His whole pussy was stuffed by a complete stranger. Or perhaps it was someone he knew, which made the situation so much worse. Who on the ship was capable of this? He didn't have time to think about it before the rod, or whatever was inside him, began thrusting in and out. Slowly at first, then faster, before he was ready.

"Oh guh—! Ugh! Ugh!"

He couldn't even try to keep quiet. The pleasure was unreal. This person, whoever they were, knew what they were doing. It seemed they even took his condition into consideration, knowing his legs were the most susceptible to injury. Perhaps that's why they weren't cuffed or tied down, just awkwardly trapped.

"P-please! Ugh! S-stop!"

Tears welled in his eyes as the thrusting turned into pounding. Hard, violent pounding. His hips bucked, his clit aching as it throbbed between the stranger's fingers. His mind began to blank as he felt a familiar sensation creeping up on him, his back arching. Familiar as it was, it had been so long it almost felt new.

The ecstacy of release.

"Aaaugh!"

Joker wailed as his first orgasm in years wracked his body, his hole pulsing rapidly. The rod, or whatever it was, was so big it barely left any room for convulsions. He wasn't even sure how it fit, but it was so good. Sweat rolled down his face, his chest heaving, his brain waiting for the pause, but it never came. The ramming continued, the brutal assault overwhelmingly fervent.

"Wait! Stop! I-I already—!"

But the stranger kept going, driving the rod in and out at a breakneck pace. If not for the soft cushioning of the gurney, Joker's pelvis might've been ground into dust, but that precaution was probably planned. Everything about this lewd act was clearly meticulously calculated.

"Oh God! I'm gonna—!"

As Joker's eyes rolled back, he heard a faint chuckle from the shadows. Impossible to make out, but he didn't care anymore. His hole was getting fucked. It was getting fucked hard. But for the first time ever, he wasn't worried about breaking every bone in his body. It felt incredible, his clit reeling and insides ringing with pleasure.

As if sensing the inevitable, the stranger squeezed and pulled at his clit, then rammed the rod in and out with the last of their strength. Joker's eyes flashed as he felt his hole cling to the metal, chasing the high he shouldn't have felt. It was so wrong. It was so wrong and yet...

"Aaaaaugh!"

The rod and fingers quickly pulled back, a stream of liquids bursting from Joker's core. His screams echoed through the room, so loud he wondered why no one heard it. A wave of white hot pleasure rushed to every point in his body, from his toes all the way to the tips of his ears. In that moment of timeless haze, he truly thought he'd pass out.

And then he collapsed, twitching and moaning as his hole spasmed, as if searching for the size that once filled it. Drool coated his chin, his eyes wandering but seeing nothing. He couldn't move, he could only bask in the aftershocks of pleasure. He did try to speak, but his mouth felt paralyzed, only able to make gross, pathetic garbles.

"Ugh..."

After a while, the door to the medbay swung open with a pleasant hum, the hall light pouring in. He struggled to lift his head, but it didn't matter. His vision was blurred, and all he could see was the unfocused silhouette of a man. Or was it a woman? He couldn't tell. He could barely breathe. The figure moved slightly, as if throwing something, and he soon felt something light land on his stomach.

Then the doors closed. The stranger was gone, but the lights switched back on, so blinding Joker groaned, squinting and blinking. Once he found his bearings, he looked down to see the key to his cuffs. So that's what they threw. With a grunt he grabbed it and released himself, which was difficult with his cast, but he persevered.

He was free. Weak and tired, but free. After a while, he managed to sit himself semi-upright, his legs still spread and trapped between the bars. He didn't want to look, but he knew he had to. Reluctantly, and after much hesitation, he looked down to examine his hole, and he gasped.

It was red and throbbing, still rife with pleasure and stretched wider than he'd ever seen. The damage that rod had done was undeniable, and yet every thrust felt like paradise. How was that possible?

"Oh God..."

He fell back again, melting into the sensation. He needed time to recover. Though as he laid there, his legs still stuck between the bars, a nagging thought crossed his mind. There were only so many crewmembers on the ship, and one of them had just raped him. He had no idea who it was, or even what species they were. They could've had five fingers, but he only felt three. Were they human, quarian, turian? He had no clue.

But he wondered if they'd do it again.

∞

Thank you for doing this! 💜

All Alone by Fun

"..And she sits on my shelf

It makes me think of you

The way she carries the things that remind me of who

We used to be before we became antiques.."

ask me about a film

never seen | want to see | the worst | bad | whatever | not my thing | good | great | favorite | masterpiece