Open to: m/f/nb 21+!
Buck gets a date on the job.
“Okay, awesome! I’ll see you there!” Buck internally cringed at his over enthusiasm.
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Open to: m/f/nb 21+!
Buck gets a date on the job.
“Okay, awesome! I’ll see you there!” Buck internally cringed at his over enthusiasm.
Oh no! Something has happened to Imbibitor Lunae (all versions of them) and they're now miniature versions of their normal selves. Until they return to normal, they'll be stuck as cute and tiny (and a bit stabby).
Send a like, your muse and mine, and an Imbibitor Lunae will trot into your inbox! If you don't want to choose, just say "surprise me" and I'll do a random generator of yours and mine muses. >:333
“You would think that having a near-death experience would change me, but you thought wrong.”
“her name was Rae and she was my best friend before i fucked everything up.” they’re holding a picture that’s them as a child, with a girl standing next to them {she’s tall and looks more reptilian-esque than human honestly}.
"I am needy!" Connor announced, his face molding into a cringe right after. Regret gently beat through his chest. His announcing voice slowly died, lowering to a louder-than-average whisper.
"...someone please pay attention to me..
It was another day, hour after hour Connor works at his terminal. He’d only just gotten home and removed his shoes when someone knocked on his door.
Deeply set bone tired waves fell over Connor, and a quick debate rushed through his head on whether or not he really should open the door. And yet the android turned to open the door.
“Hello.....oh?”
Connor gently took the offered object, his scanners quickly delivering the type of material he was in possession of.
“A....mother’s day gift?” He asks, confusion laden on his tone. There’s something else carried through his voice...appreciation? Care? It doesn’t matter really, as Connor brings the package close, as if he’s embracing it.
“Thank you. I truly appreciate this gift.”
“I made cookies because i was BORED but i made too many and now I have a P R O B L E M.”
“I don’t take kindly to attempted stowaways. What’ll it be; coin for passage, or a cold swim back to land?”