Milo, please, stop making cool merch, please, i can't buy any o that, please........
Gonna make this rat wear it. And as of myself.. gonna be silently crying into my pillow.
I wish I would post some actual detailed art but that will go against the idea of this blog that nobody cares about anyway but I do so have milkman
Sure thing, pardner, hop right in!
Just sitting in my (new and wonderful) chair, editing a video and listening to Welcome to Discopolis by Discoholic, having a wonderful time.
Hi I am here to take your candy! And your blood! Uh- I actually only have like two sweets, I don't think any of that stuff in the pumpkin is edible, so please, I need more!
AWWW well here is a treat (snippet from an old fic I never posted.)
Sleepy davesport..
Jack was probably awake, the sneaky fuck. Just way too emotionally bottled-up to lucidly admit he wanted someone to hold while he slept.
Dave, on the other hand, never had that problem.
All the same, Dave prodded at the forearm which was tightly looped around his shoulder, seemingly with no intention of loosening.
“‘Sport,” he whispered, still poking at him, because he felt he should let him know he was betraying all his hard work of shutting people out. At the very least.
Jack didn’t shift at all, instead croaking out a curt, “What?”
Dave said nothing. He’d get it eventually. And he could feel Jack’s eyelids flutter against his shoulder, probably as he tried to process what, exactly, he was doing. He must’ve gotten it eventually– poor thing– because he mumbled out, “Oh, whatever,” and tucked closer to him.
Oh holy Dee don't take away my right to post! And yeh HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRLY MY FAVOURITE. And I know I'm late(probably), sorry sorry