end of the line

A personal blog for Eli owner of captains-ads.

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Love Birds

Writing prompt

He saw her, walking, why he didn’t know, but she was walking. He wondered why she’d chose to walk when she had wings. So he swooped in, landing beside her in the snow, and he knew. The cold wetness under his talons was so soft it was like walking on the clouds. He knew it wouldn’t last long. He didn’t like the cold, but if it meant he could be with her, he would wait it out. She was his mate after all.

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She’s Missing, Not Dead

“She’s missing, not dead.”

It's what they kept saying. Incessantly. Yet it never caught. It never registered, not with me. I still found myself unable to fathom the idea. I heard it repeated, countless times. Every day, for how long? I don't know. As each day passed, I believed it less and less. I felt myself fading. Barely able to hold on, but I did. For them. They needed me, I could not sit by, and let them hear, 'she's no longer missing, but dead.' So I fought.

Day, and night, they ran together like time was irrelevant, and for me it was. How long was it? Days, weeks, months, I'd lost track. Until, finally, finally it was all over. They did not have to hear, she's dead.. Two weeks, that was all my eternity lasted. Two weeks of watching them, suffering with them, because I was unable to comfort them. I was forced to watch them, unable to be seen or heard. I was, like a ghost to them. But I returned, I returned to my children, no longer missing, and not dead. Not yet, I couldn't abandon them for good.

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Internal Chaos

He sat there staring in front of him. Hand resting on the arm rests of the chair. The smell of it made his stomach churn, but he couldn’t move. His knuckles were white from clenching the arms so tightly. The smell singed his nostrils. A wave of nausea washed over him and he found himself being sick. He was frozen, frozen in fear, frozen in shock, disbelief. What had happened, he did not know. He had to get rid of the smell, but he couldn't move. For days on end he sat there, as still as a statue blankly staring ahead of him at the disturbing site before him. He didn't move..

He awoke by a light being shined into his eyes. He let out a terrified scream that caused the light to disappear. They were moving him, talking around him but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He couldn't see who they were. He didn't know where he was. He heard a loud banging noise that startled him and he yelled out again, flailing weakly. He didn't have much strength left.

He was alone, cold, his feet exposed no socks. He lifted his head and looked down at them. He tried to sit up all the way, but he couldn't. Something was holding him down he looked at his wrists. They were restrained. He let his head fall back weakly as he started to cry out. He was afraid, alone, and cold.

They came in at the sound of his cries. A fat man and a skinny old lady. The fat man looked down at him with sorrowful eyes. Was that pitty? Why did he pitty him, what had happened. Then the smell hit his nostrils again. He wanted to be sick. He sat up slightly, lifting his head over the side of the bed. The fat man slid a bucket under him. He was sick again. The fat man patted his head like a child.

The scene flashed before his eyes. He shook his head and cried. "No no no no no no!!!" he struggled against his restraints. "I love you! I love you baby!! Please listen to me! I love you!!! I beg you hear me out!" he screamed.

The nurses eyes widened and she darted off the the medicine tray. He looked over at her, no longer seeing the nurse. "Don't leave me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean the things I said! Don't go please baby I love you!!" he screamed at her. The nurse picked up a needle and flicked it pressing the syringe up to remove the excess air. He didn't see a needle.

"NOooo!! Please! Don't hurt me! I swear I'm sorry!! Nooo! Nooo!!! Baby, I love you! Don't kill me! I swear nothing happened nooooo!!!!" he struggled against the restraints in vain as the nurse approached him. She slid the needle into the catheter attached to his chest.

He continued to scream and cry out as the sedatives slowly took effect. They listened to him from down the hall shaking their head in shame. The orderly looked at the nurse. "It's a shame really. She was crazy, now he is too." the orderly said.

"Poor guy." the nurse replied.

She was there, in the corner, looking at him. He smiled at her and tried to go to her but he couldn't. Something was holding him back. He couldn't see what it was. "What's wrong baby, don't you love me anymore?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"I do love you, more then anything in the world!" he exclaimed, but he still couldn't make his way over to her.

"Then hold me love. Take me in your arms and show me just how much you love me Brune. Show me that you love me more then HER!" she yelled at the last word.

"I don't love her! Nothing is going on between us, we're just friends, baby I love you. I love you and nobody else, please please believe me!" he pleaded with her. He loved her, he wanted to hold her so badly, but he couldn't.

"LIAR!!!" she screamed before coming after him with a knife.

It was dark, the sound of shuffling filled his ears. He sat up as best he could with the restraints on his wrist. He looked to the corner of the room and saw it. A young girl, wearing a hospital gown, her head hung, long black hair over he pale face as she shuffled forward towards him. She flickered as she moved, like an old movie. Brune yelled out in fear as she drew nearer. Nobody came. He screamed louder, the girl disappeared.

The orderly came in followed by the nurse. Brune was panting, sweat running down his brow as his heart raced. "There was a girl, a girl in the corner!!!" he cried out looking in the direction where the girl had vanished from.

They turned to look behind them then back to Brune. "There's nobody there Brune. Just go back to sleep." the fat orderly said patting his arm gently. "Go back to sleep."

They left. He was alone again. Still cold under the one thin blanket. The sound returned. Brune looked up and he saw her again. His eyes widened, but he couldn't scream this time. Her hands were around his throat.

"You son of a bitch! You killed me! You killed me because you love her more then me!" she yelled as she shook him.

"Noooo!!! I don't love her! I never loved her, it was always you! Please don't kill me! I didn't do anything I swear!!" Brune yelled.

The nurse and orderly returned. He was flailing, trying to break free of his restraints. The fat man held him down while the nurse sedated him. They couldn't see her, they couldn't feel her like he could. The room went cold. Their breath came out in gusts of smoke and they looked at one another. It was the middle of July in Louisiana, why were they seeing their breath.

"Nooooo!! Don't hurt them, Nooo they didn't do anything!!!" Brune cried out as she approached them hands outstretched. She got the nurse first. She was pinned to the wall struggling for her life. The orderly stood there, not sure of what to do. He ran to her, tried to pry her free, but is launched across the room by a backhand.

"Nooo!!!! Baby please!! Please don't hurt them! Nooo!!" he cried as the nurse's body fell limp and was released. The fat orderly slowly rose to his feet and made his way over to the nurse stumbling like a drunkard.

It was his turn next. He was pinned to the wall, his feet dangling, kicking as he struggled clutching at the unseen hands around his neck. Brune cried out as he watched the life leave the mans eyes. He joined the nurse in a crumpled heap on the floor. She went back to Brune, she undid his restraints and smirked at him, then she was gone.

Security came in, he was sitting in shock once more. Covered in sick, looking down at the limp forms of the nurse and the orderly. They put the jacket on him, dragged him out, his feet sliding across the cold floor.

The room was bare, white, and dark when the lights went out. He stayed bundled in the jacket curled up in the corner. The smell hitting him again. He couldn't hold it in. He was sick again. He cried out in the night, but nobody came. He was alone, scared, he wanted to die, but she wouldn't let him.....

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Goodbye to Love

Desperation, it's what I saw in her eyes. From the moment that door opened, there she was. Pleading in silence at me. How could I turn away, how could I tell her no. I had no choice. My eyes dropped, shaking my head as I turned, arms coming to rest over my chest, hands upon my elbows. She didn't understand, just as I had expected. I never wanted this for her, for us. It was not meant to be, but why did it have to hurt so badly? "I'm sorry. You're going to have to leave." My voice did not sound like my own. It was as though someone were speaking from a mile away. Her voice came back garbled, like she was whispering into a funnel through a brook. I had no idea what she was saying, so in response my head shook. "Just go. I don't love you." The words I never wanted to say, the worst most potent lie I have ever told in my life. I did love her, I loved her far too much.

Pain, excruciating pain, was all that I felt at the sound her of her cracking voice. The teary pleas of her trying to get me to turn to face her again, but I couldn't. I could feel her hand on my arm now, but I pull away. "I SAID GO DAMN IT! I DON'T LOVE YOU! GET OUT OF MY LIFE!!" It took all my strength to say that with a steady voice. The door slammed finally, and I was left with only the sound of my own breaking heart. Then, only then did I let the anger show in my face. Sharp pains shot up through my legs as my knees hit the cold hard floor. She was gone, I had saved her, now was the first day of the rest of my lonely life. And I was broken.

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The Walking Dead FF

We'd always grown up knowing that one day, the human race would cease to exist. All things must come to an end, and there are many theories as to how this, apocalypse is going to come about. The bible foretells of many warning signs. Science fiction talked about plagues that turn people into zombies. The sad truth of it all, the science fiction writers had it right. It was the zombies.

It started so suddenly that people began to panic. The dead started to rise, and when they did, one bite was enough to turn anyone into a drooling meat bag with a hunger for human flesh. They had many names. Walkers, biters, undead, zombies it's all they were. Then we learned a cold hard truth, we were all infected.That's right, we were all just giant petri dishes of walking disease ready to fall into the perpetual darkness of eternal hunger.

I first saw it when someone I knew got shot, and there were no bite marks. After that I was alone for the first time in my life. No parents or family just me trying to make it on my own, to survive and not find myself becoming one of the mindless beasts of eternal gnawing hunger, for I knew that's all they had to feel anymore. Insatiable hunger, the instability of only ever wanting to feed.

Just when I was about to give up, throw in the towel and lodge a bullet right into my cerebral cortex, I found them. Their leader had been a sheriff, and a father. A man born to lead in the wake of Armageddon. He was somebody that could be looked up to in a time of crises. Rick Grimes, it had a superhero ring to it didn't it? His son Carl had been the most hardened teenager I had ever known in my existence. It was a given however, seeing what the child had been put through in such a short amount of time, and so rapidly as well.

I wasn't much older then him, seventeen, but it was the youth that was harder to come by. They had become all but extinct in today's time considering how difficult it was to survive when you were weak and vulnerable. It'd have been enough to drive even the most steadfast adults to the brink of insanity. This sort of life, would make a human being do far more inhumane things. We were left with the dirtiest of the lowlifes of the human race, and it was a fight to survive, kill or be killed. Dog eat dog, or you'll be supper for the biters. But Rick, he was a changed man yes, but he still had a few things that most of our kind lacked, a spinal cord, and a heart.

They came at us from nowhere, silent at first before rushing at the scent of us. It was hard to stay clean after all, with no water or electricity. We were ripe for the picking, but we were far from easy targets. The silence turned to the sound of battle, no gunshots, just the grunts and sickening squish of the blades passing through the rotten layers of what used to be human flesh. The pile behind us now as we make our way on to the next safe zone, if such a thing even exists.

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The Number 3

It was the middle of the winter in California, which in that state didn’t mean much. In a large estate a lone man stood in his kitchen slicing tomatoes. The sun was shinning brightly through the window above his sink and he was lost in thought about his children and his wife who had gone out to the park for a girls day out. The radio played Hound dog and the man bobbed his head along to the tune. His wife would be happy, she loved Elvis. She’s always telling him just how much he looked like him when he’d scrunch up his nose and say, “Thank you, thank you very much.” he smiled at the thought of being compared to the young good looking rock star. He had a feeling that man would be legend one day. Being the son of a talent scout, he knew talent when he saw, or heard it.

He danced about the kitchen taking the tomatoes to the pot and dropping them in singing along with the man on the radio. “You ain’t nothing but a hound dog! Cryin’ all the time.” he shook his hips to the music using a wooden spoon as a mic as he sung. He heard the sound of a chuckle and looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway. He smiled broadly and made his way over to her hugging her around her waist.

“Welcome home gorgeous. Where’s my angels?” he asked his wife.

“They’re outside. What smells so good?” she asked as she pulled away. They made their way back into the kitchen and smelled the sweet smell of the lasagna he was preparing. He pulled his wife to him once more kissing her cheek softly before whispering in her ear. “I love you forever my beautiful queen.” She giggled and kissed him back. “I love you too my king.” she said before patting his cheek and darting off. He shook his head and chased after her letting the lasagna finish cooking in the oven.

The sound of crashing in the living room awoke him that night. He got up, and made his way down the stairs with his Louisville slugger raised high over his head. He didn’t make it far into the living room before the next thing he knew he woke up in the hospital with a massive headache.

They told him they were gone, gone forever, that he’d never see them again. He could see their pale faces swimming before his eyes. They were still beautiful, even in death. He missed them ever so much. He picked up his bottle and downed it before throwing it into the fireplace. The fire flared for a moment and reflected off of the knife that lay on the table beside him. He turned and made his way to it before picking it up and sliding it slowly across his neck. He couldn’t live without them, not anymore.

60 YEARS LATER…..

They walked through the foyer of the house in awe. Even though it was old and run down, they could still see the beauty of it under all the cobwebs and peeling paint. They had wanted a fixer upper, and that’s what they got. The kids darted in behind them laughing and giggling.

"Hey would you two settle down!" their dad called out as the family dog darted between his leg. "Whoa! Easy there boy!" he called out after the K-9.

"Dadddyyyy!!!" came the cry of a young girl behind them. He turned immediately and lifted his youngest up holding her to him.

"What's the matter sweetie?" he asked his daughter.

"Joey and Mikey pushed me down." she cried clinging to his neck and hugging him tightly.

He patted her back and called out to his sons. "Joey! Mikey! Will you come down here please?!"

The two boys clambered down the stairs and looked up at their father innocently. "Yeah dad?" the eldest asked.

He was a boy of 13, a strapping young lad as they would have said back in the day. His father shook his head and gestured to their little sister. "Will you two please apologize to your sister." he said looking at the boys.

"Sorry Lillybelle." the eldest said.

"Sorry Lil." the 12 year old replied.

Lilly nodded but continued to cling to her father's neck. "I'll get the groceries first." his wife said before kissing her husband on the cheek and heading out to the car.

"Boys, will you go get your things out of the car? Then you can find your rooms. There are plenty to chose from so no fighting please."

The boys darted outside at their father's request which got Lilly to calm down. Her father set her down on the floor and patted her head softly. "Can you go get yours too please?" he asked her. "Just your overnight bag. Daddy will get the big stuff okay princess." he said before bending over and kissing her forehead.

"Okay daddy!" she said before darting outside. He watched his 9 year old daughter run out to the car for a moment before turning his attention back to the foyer. It was definitely bigger then he remembered it being from the first tour. He knew it'd be big enough for him and the kids. He'd have plenty of work to do on it of course, but that's what he did in his free time. It was a good hobby, renovating houses. He could afford it, that wasn't the question at all. With a little time and a lot of elbow grease, this house could become a home.

Supper had been eaten, showers had and teeth brushed. The kids tucked into their beds and the first night in their new house had come to an end. The Criso family were settled into their beds, with only one still slightly awake, the other working a night shift at the local hospital. John Criso tossed and turned in his sleep, thrashing about having a nightmare. He woke up with a start and looked around his darkened room.

With a yawn and a stretch he looked over at the alarm clock beside the bed and turned it so that he could see it. It was 3:00 in the morning. He shook his head and pulled the covers back before going to the bathroom rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He absentmindedly flicked on the light and walked to the sink half blinded and splashed some cold water on his face.

He reached over and dried his face with a towel before tossing it to the side and heading for the door. However something caught his attention out the corner of his eye. He stopped, his hand hovering over the light switch. Was that blood? He looked at his hands and saw nothing on them, so where did it come from.

The sound of metal on metal caught his attention. He turned in time to see the shower curtain swaying slightly, and then he saw the words.

'Get out!' John's heart began to race and he stumbled backwards tripping over his own feet. He fell onto his backside and scrambled to his feet before darting down the hall to his eldest son's room. He shook the 13 year old awake and was answered with a blank stare.

"What is it dad?" the boy asked groggily sitting up and looking at his dad with concern.

"Are you playing pranks again?" he asked the boy finally calming down.

Mike shook his head and looked at his dad bewildered. "What's going on?" he asked.

John helped his son out of the bed and led him down the hall to his bathroom. He looked inside of it only to see that not only were the words gone, but so was the shower curtain.

"You think I took your shower curtain?" Mike asked with a raised brow.

John shook his head, not wanting to startle the boy he said, yes. Mike shook his head and patted his dad on the arm. "I think I'm a little above that level now dad." the boy said before heading back to his own room.

John took in a deep breath and crawled into his bed pulling the covers over him tightly. He stared at the green glow of the clock as the numbers changed over to 3:05. He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

He was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard the sound of a little girl giggling. "Chewy." he muttered thinking that the chow had woken his daughter and she was now playing with him.

John once again made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to his daughter's room. He cracked the door open and saw to his surprise that she was still in bed, and Chewy was curled up on the foot of it as he usually was.

A flicker of movement caught John's eye and he turned around just in time to see a blonde head disappear down the stairs. He shut Lilly's door and headed down the stairs himself looking for the owner of the blonde head of hair.

Once downstairs John quietly called out, "Hello?" but the only response was a little girls giggle from behind him. He turned quickly and saw a little girl, younger then his own, dart off into the kitchen. He followed, curiosity getting the better of him. What was there to be afraid of? It was just a little girl right?

He walked into the kitchen and stood frozen on the spot when the little girl turned to look at him. The side of her face was covered in blood and was bashed in. John wasn't sure what he was seeing.

The little girl giggled again. "HI daddy! Come play with me." she squealed but wasn't looking at John, but behind him.

John's brow rose and he turned just in time to see a man standing there with a knife in his hand. He darted to the side just as the man's knife hand swung after his head. John noticed a large cut across the man's throat. He knew now what was going on, or he thought. Either A he was hallucinating, B, dreaming or C he was seeing ghosts.

The sound of heavy footsteps followed John as he ran quickly up the stairs to his children. If there was a an in his house with a knife, ghost or not, he didn't want his children in there with him.

He darted into his daughter's room first and shook her. She didn't move. "Lilly! Lilly wake up sweetie, wake up!" he pleaded with his daughter.

"She won't wake.." Came a man's voice from the corner.

John looked up and saw the man from the kitchen standing there holding the knife that was now covered in blood... "Noo.." John pulled the covers off of his daughter only to find her limp body covered in blood. He looked at his hands and saw that they were too.

"Joey, Mikey!" he cried out hopping off of the bed and running down the hall to check on his boys.

His screams could be heard from across the yard. Nobody listened to him. They had become routine, he was a mad man, and nobody paid any mind to a mad man. The screams were followed by the thumping. It was the ritual every night.

Harvey Keens slapped his poker hand down on the card table and scooted his chair back. "I guess I'll deal with him, Again. Thanks for nothing guys." The orderly said before heading down the hall pulling his keys to him.

He made his way to the door and unlocked it before going to the High level wards. He pulled his flashlight out of his scrub shirt as he approached the door to room 305. He flashed the light on through the small bared window. The man sat in the corner of his bed, banging his head on the wall yet again. His arms wrapped around his legs as he blinked at the sudden brightness from the flashlight.

"How many times are we going to go through with this Criso? You bang your head again, I'm going to have to dose you." Harvey said holding up a pill bottle.

"They're all gonna die, all of them.. they're all gonna die!!" John called out looking at the fat orderly with red bloodshot eyes. His shaved hair growing out and sticking up every which way.

Harvey banged the flashlight on the bars loudly. "Hush it now, you'll wake the whole damn Ward. Go to sleep, it's after 3 am for shit's sake." Harvey said before turning to go.

"No sleep, no sleep.. can not sleep, or they will die. Can not sleep or they will fly. No sleep No sleep, Never ever sleep again." John sang out for the remainder of the night.

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Restful Watcher

There it sat, as if it were mocking her. A constant reminder of her failure. Light tears rolled down her darkened face, catching the late evening sunlight. It would be dark soon, and it would come crashing back once more. Everything she had fought to fight off, to forget, every night she was bound to see it all again. There was nothing that could be done for it.

The sun set and the water rose, taking the boat along with it. In it's boughs sat the boy. He was smiling. Standing up watching the shore without a fear or a care in the world. The tiny sailor, bound for the middle of a tiny lake. It happened in a flash, the boat stopped suddenly and the boy lurched forward. Flying out of the boat and straight into the water.

There was a the sound of bone on stone, the splash of water as he hit. She was helpless to stop it, helpless to save the boy. Though her arms reached they would never be long enough. He should have never been out there. Now he was stuck out there, doomed to relive his death every night and sundown. After all the ghosts did not like the sun as she had.

The sun helped her grow, but it could never help her forget. Long ago she was made to stay here. It was the destiny of her people. To watch, to remember, but never to interfere. How could she? She was unable to even move how could she save this child. This boy who only wanted to be a sailor like his late father. Oh how his mother must have wept. If she'd have seen her, she would have wept with her as well.

Her tear had gone unnoticed, just another leaf in the cold Autumn air. Just a red tear, for the lost boy from decades past. The lost boy she had been forced to see die every night for the past sixty years. He was a child, something that she would never know. Never be able to hold, to have them look upon her with the love a son bears for his mother. She'll never know love, or the touch of a loved one. Be it blood or be it true love, she would never know it. This was her burden, this was her curse, she would live for ages, knowing what others did not.

She was rooted, bound to the earth by the spells of her ancestors. No longer a free spirit, no longer the nymph that once protected all those who had entered her domain. The place where she now resides. The little shallow pond where a boy once lost his youth and innocence and became her immortal son. Sleeping in the shallows of that which watered her roots and kept her growing over the years. She could not save him, she could not even save herself. Now she would remember this for the years to come, for all eternity. The nymph tree, that failed to save the child of earth.

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Ash and Brimstone

(This image courtesy of @writeworld image prompts inspired this piece)

Ash, dust, fire and wind. All around, no escape. Metal on metal, shouting and screaming. The sounds of a thousand warriors fighting for their lives. The rocks surrounding quivered and trembled, falling to their demise at the base of the mountains. Unable to sustain the rigorous sounds of battle kilometers below their peaks. The ground shook as the winged beast made it's landing. An epic roar, littered with brimstone left it's mouth. Flames scorching anything in their paths. Few escaped from the downdraft, the wrath of the dragons were upon us. Not even our magic could save us now.

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When It Matters

When it really matters, you can count on me. When it really matters, Only then you'll see. When it really matters, You'll be there for me. When it really matters, I won't let you be. When it really matters, It may just be too late. When it really matters, I will draw your hate. When it really matters, Can you see past the lies? When it really matters, Does it count that time flies? When it really matters, I will have to say goodbye. When it really matters, You won't get to see me cry. When it really matters, You'll be dead and gone. When it really matters, I'll be left alone.

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Silent

Standing alone, no one around. Dead silence at hand, not a single sound. A light breeze, a whistle here and there. Nothing is stirring, nothing nowhere. Ripples on the water, waves on the shore. Breeze chilling everything, right to the core. Crackling and creaking beginning to rise. Footsteps stomping revealing the size. Monstrous it looms, nearly sky high. Silence again, then broken by a cry. Crackling and creaking again as it leaves. In and out of the trees as it weaves. Silence again, and as quick as it came. This creature that left, leaving no name. Moving as quickly as it possibly can. Leaving everything untouched, including the man

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Pain

Drowning in sorrow, misery, dying internally. All the wounds that should last eternally. Hurting inside the heart that weeps. Strong inside the mind, the memory keeps Never easing, never passing. All this pain that is everlasting. Drowning in sorrow, misery, dying internally. None of the wounds gone, there eternally. A weeping heart, dying mind, pain constantly. Memories of hurt, coming, going inconsistently. Physical pain, self inflicted, anticipation waiting. Growing in darkness, pain easing. Yearning for comfort, down in the darkness. Drowning in sorrow, in the mind's abyss. Pain is passing, no longer lingering. Onto life, the soul is now clinging. Regret, now rising, fighting the mind. Hidden in darkness, light, falling behind. Drowning in blood, misery, dying physically. New wounds now there, forever eternally. Passing into shadows, dying alone. The true feelings, forever unknown.

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Dear Daughter

(This poem was written by teen aged me. It’s my oldest one still in existence.)

Dear daughter, As I sit here beside your bed I pray that you will live. Why did this have to happen. I know you didn't get to graduate from high school. They just ripped your life away. They shot you down, just like a dog, not even caring who you were. And dear daughter. Why does everything go so wrong. First your mother, and now you. For fifteen years I raised you, Dear daughter. As I stand here by your grave, I wonder why I never cared about drive-bys. But now one has taken a life I care about. And dear daughter. The boy who killed you is walking now. I can't stand life without you. As I pull this pistol From my pocket, I think about you with your mother. Dear daughter. I know I've made a few mistakes, but not enough to deserve this pain. I'll See you soon. Dear daughter.

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UPDATE

UPDATE:  I have turned this into my personal blog so that the email doesn’t go to waste. If you have a personal blog feel free to follow me on here. I’ll be posting my writings here but please don’t take them and credit them as your own. Not that I plan on like publishing them but yeah.

if you were following for Bucky I no longer am writing in the RP community. Sorry.

[death-strandings]

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My nerd church is epic.

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I found Trooper!Bucky.

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Don’t shoot me Jarness!!