Scruffy Puppygirl Who You Liked The Vibe Of So You Invited Her To Hang With You Then At The End Of The

"all these people have adhd all of a sudden" honey the french have been drinking espresso after dinner since they first encountered stimulants, we've been here the whole time.

that guy who was really focused on being considerate at all times is now a puppygirl who will bark for anyone if they ask her to.

me impatiently to the little french cat boiling me in a stew: chat am I cooked

-literally any sentence- "anyway stream left right goodnight"

PUPPIEST FACT 008: Puppies used to live in Heaven until God passed Divine Judgement on Puppies for their Cruelty.

She never was able to sleep very easily.

No matter how hard she tried, her mind always dredged up some embarrassing memory, or started imagining hypothetical scenarios, or decided to overthink every last detail of the day she’d had.

Now she stands - well not quite.

She’s suspended in the air by an assortment of chains, wires, tethers, ropes, and more. Her arms are held above her and pulled apart. Her legs do not hang limply beneath her. They too are embraced and held.

In particular, the tightness around her ribs, the back of her neck, and her waist paradoxically seems to relax her.

If she were able to move in any significant manner, she would notice how none of the things keeping her in the air dig into her, or restrict circulation, or otherwise hurt her or cause discomfort.

She is held.

Nothing more, nothing less.

That is, until something else is brought down by a set of ropes.

Is positioned in front of her.

Is moved slowly backwards to cover her face, hold her lips closed, ensure that all she can see is a deep shadow.

Her restraints seem to tighten. Only ever so slightly, but it’s enough.

As she hangs there silently, she drifts off to sleep faster than she ever has before.

For once, she dreams.

And when she does, she dreams of beautiful things.

is there such a thing as "should have been shipwrecked after seventeen months on the high seas" dysphoria

foreman. babe. we’re at the bottom end of season 8. you have worked here for almost a decade. why are you still surprised there's medical malpractice going on at the medical malpractice department that you, personally, used to do medical malpractice at

*tugs you around by our red string of fate like you’re a dog on a leash*