I love being the youngest person in the rheumatology waiting room. It's definitely not isolating ande embarrassing, and totally doesn't contribute to the little voice in my head that says I'm just being dramatic.

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Maldives
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from China

seen from United States
seen from China
I love being the youngest person in the rheumatology waiting room. It's definitely not isolating ande embarrassing, and totally doesn't contribute to the little voice in my head that says I'm just being dramatic.
Do you guys ever think about how Leo's favorite franchise is sci-fi and how much the prison dimension looks like space and that he probably can't watch the Jupiter Jim movies anymore without getting PTSD and-
I love when I make plans to write all day and finally catch up on my WIPs, and then I wake up with a pain flare. And by "love", I mean "hate with the firey rage of a thousand white hot suns".
Is it good? No.
Is it getting written? Yes.
Hey, insurance company, why do I HAVE to take testosterone for you to approve my (currently hypothetical) top surgery? I'm not a man. I just don't want tits. Get with the fucking program.
I love when my brain is like "Hey, we wanna write tonight, yeah?"
And I'm like "Yeah! 🥰"
And then my brain goes "Too bad lol" for a week straight.
Abby who pulls the seat out in the back of her jeep Wrangler that she loves almost more than you, forcing you to lay down as she spreads your legs, looking at the soaking wet spot on your crotch. Palming your pussy through your pants, soaking in all those moans and please for more. Kissing you til you can't breath before she unbuttons your jeans, pushing her hand down inside and rubbing you through your panties, watching your eyes rolls back as the windows fog up.
Silly me for thinking I could do any writing after my autism assessment call.