“Come on, you don’t actually mean that.”
seen from Australia
seen from Belgium
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Germany

seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
“Come on, you don’t actually mean that.”
“What do you want?”
nitesky | open para
Cross pushed on the window, the glass swigging outwards and letting a draft of cold air into the silent corridor. Pushing it open a little more, Cross climbed out of the building and onto the roof, the night air nipping at his cheeks and musing his black hair. From up here he could see the forbidden forest and the great lake on either side of him, and the fading lights of Hogsmede past the water.
Walking along the spine of the roof, keeping himself low so that he wouldn’t become unbalanced if the wind blew harshly, he made his way to approximately the middle before carefully sliding down a metre so that he was sitting on a wide dormer window that could easily fit five people on it.
Lighting a cigarette he looked over the lake and followed it to the ground. He thought about how much easier it would be for his family if he simply jumped off the roof. They wouldn’t need to deal with his bipolar, wouldn’t burdened with him when he inevitably became depressive. He always thought about things like this when he was alone, how much of a burden he was. Taking a long drag or his cigarette he blew the smoke into the cold night sky.
This castle is boring tonight.
“What could you possibly want from my life?”
Thus, no matter what you say, Batman drawings are art.
What’s your problem?