Late Night Rambling


I swear to Christ Jesus, or whatever god might actually fucking exist, if I ever turn out like my parents, I want to be beaten with the business end of a broken bottle.

Reblogging so that if and when I take a broken bottle to your head, you will have no complaints. <3

I have been following you for as long as I've been on tumblr, I love your writings and even though everything is literally a wall of text, I cannot stay away from it. You write with intelligence and your diction is literally perfection, I wish I had such talent. Do you currently have a girlfriend?

Thank you so much, but I don’t think that I’m very talented at all. I’m glad you enjoy it, hopefully I can start writing again soon. As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend. She’s the best.

That is some of the shittiest writing I have seen in a long time oh my god. "honeybunch" what the actual fuck i'm going to be sick. Please do us all a favour and S T O P

I am so glad that I took time away from Tumblr to come back to such an adoring fan! As per your request though, I believe this explains everything. 

"sure I feel the emotion of happiness, but it’s not what consumes me" OH GOD THAT'S IT i literally cannot read any more it's like an autistic twelve year old trying way too hard to be deep and poetic


That one chump with his ninetails

Look how protective my Ninetales is of me.

What uni do you go to?

I went to University of Arizona. 

You make pretty writing :) What do you major in?

Why thank you, Anon. While I haven’t kept up on it recently I’m grateful people still enjoy it. I actually majored in Pre-Med/Pre-vet and I only took a few courses in writing, though I wish now I had taken more.

Wolf Operated Human Ball Mode

Also titled: My Last D&D Session.

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Melted Cheese

Is it odd that I’m reminded of you by the smallest of things already? Take for example, when I go to shower when I wake up. I’ve mistakenly grabbed two towels for the both of us only to realize I’m alone. Or how on these now cold nights on my drive home with my windows down, I can smell distant fireplaces being used. I’m then brought back to us falling asleep in front of my fireplace as you tickle my back and I drift into sleep. Though, probably more than anything, you make your appearance the most when I get home at night. As I prepare myself an awesome meal, you know, one consisting of me melting cheese over something. Because that’s the extent of my cooking prowess. I remember the first time you had me help you cook, and how happy I was to do so. No matter how utterly horrible I am at doing so. So at night when I’m waiting for the microwave to melt cheese over stale chips, I want nothing more than to be with you preparing one of our ludicrous 3am snacks that toes the line of unhealthy. Because honeybunch, I want nothing more than to be with you.