#sonda walkin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boonki · 3 years

Note

“You look absolutely horrible.” For the prompts!

OKAY I KNOW YOU ASKED THIS LIKE THREE HUNDRED YEARS AGO i am so sorry ive had to work a ton lately and have just been so tired, i havent written at all recently

BUT

here you go!! some nice sleepy vibes from yours truly at 2:20 am, apologies if there are any mistakes

_______

The only light on in their shared kitchen space is above the sink, drowning the space in a burnt orange color, like the warm glow of a fire. As he stumbles into the room, Obi-wan nearly misses Anakin sitting at the table, fiddling with droid parts, back curled over and head drooped to study a piece of machine in his hands. How he’s even able to see is far beyond Obi-wan, but he’s learned to let it go throughout the years.

Obi-wan turns the knob on the stove and shuffles the kettle to check for water, startling Anakin out of his meditative state.

“Oh, Obi-wan.” Anakin looks up at him and squints, exhaustion forming neat lines around the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

Before reaching up to the cabinet for a well-loved mug, Obi-wan catches how pale Anakin is, how dark purple blooms around his eyes like bruises, how he seems to shrink into himself. Obi-wan has seen Anakin look tired before, especially when he was younger and put so much pressure on himself to perfect his schoolwork, but this is on the particularly bad end of things. Anakin’s hair is greasy, the long curls pushed back and tucked behind his ears, and the small blanket draped around his shoulders does nothing to hide the fact that Anakin is still wearing the same shirt from two days ago. He looks absolutely horrible.

“You look absolutely horrible,” Obi-wan says, the mug settling on the countertop with a clink. “Have you even tried to sleep?”

Anakin frowns. “Hey, you don’t look much better. We’re both awake at what,” his head swivels around as he looks for a clock, and finding none, guesses, “four in the morning? What’s your excuse, old man?”

Obi-wan hums noncommittally at that, amusement assuaging the growing worry nagging at his chest. He pulls a tea bag out of the flimsy cardboard box left out on the counter, and rips the packaging open, letting the sachet dangle into the cup. He lets the silence linger.

With a softer tone, Anakin tries again. “You can’t sleep either?”

Obi-wan pours the boiling water into the mug, watching the color turn into a deep shade of purple, and he gently bounces the bag up and down, encouraging it to steep. “I think you’ll find, my dear padawan, that I’ve evolved past the need for sleep.”

Anakin’s eyebrows flatten, and he snorts. “I’ll make sure to pass that along to Cody, I’m sure he’ll agree with you.”

A smile tugs at Obi-wan’s mouth. “No, I,” he pauses, taking a breath, “I keep waking up. Figured a cup of tea would help.”

All of the mirth vanishes from Anakin’s face, leaving only unadulterated worry. Obi-wan looks down at his tea. They both know a euphemism for nightmares when they hear one by now, considering they’ve created half of them on their own. Fighting a gruesome, bloody, and endless war will do that to a person. Fighting a gruesome, bloody, and endless war where a good portion of the deaths are on your hands, on your conscience, even more so.

The air is still between them, but dense with emotion. Obi-wan rarely admits his nightmares to anyone, and by the myriad of expressions racing through Anakin’s features, he can tell Anakin is struggling with the right response.

Obi-wan sips his tea.

“Sometimes, I,” Anakin starts, clearing his throat, “I wish I knew them better, my men who died. I see them in my dreams.” He’s staring down at his hands, either as a distraction or remembering the blood he’s washed off. The droid parts sit motionlessly beneath them.

Obi-wan leans back on the counter, holding the steaming mug up to his chin. “So do I,” he nearly whispers, grateful for Anakin’s admission, his attempt to empathize with Obi-wan. He wants to say more, wants to sit down and let out the demons haunting his dreams, but he’s afraid that they’d rip all his bandages on the way out and tear him apart completely. It’s easier, he thinks, to keep it all inside, contained, controlled. But in the dim and molten light of the kitchen, with his face hidden in the shadows, he wants to be vulnerable. He also wants Anakin to get some rest.

“Do you want to come sleep with me?” Obi-wan asks, eyes darting up to Anakin’s face.

Anakin’s eyes go wide, and he straightens up in his seat. “What?”

He suddenly realizes what he’s said, and he can feel his ears burn. “No, not like that.” He dips the tea bag in and out of the mug, and Anakin relaxes a bit, though still wary, looking somehow disappointed. “When you were a youngling, you used to crawl into bed with me when you couldn’t sleep. You thought I never noticed.”

“You remember that?”

Obi-wan smiles to himself, gazing wistfully down into his mug. “Of course, dear one. You weren’t the only one who slept better.”

Anakin’s eyebrows are knitted together, his lips parted. “Oh.” He looks thoughtful. “Sure, then. Your room?”

Warmth floods Obi-wan’s chest in anticipation, not at all feeling guilty about his careful manipulation. He knows Anakin could never turn down helping others, it’s in his nature.

Anakin’s little droid project is completely forgotten as Anakin stares at him for an answer.

“Considering I don’t quite feel like tripping over half an engine, yes, my room.” Obi-wan takes one final sip of his tea and sets it by the sink, treading over the cold floor back into his room.

With a scoot of his chair, and loud, heavy footsteps, Anakin follows, sliding Obi-wan’s door shut behind him, leaving the pair in complete darkness. Obi-wan is still in his sleep shirt and shorts from before, so he slips into bed, pulling back the covers for Anakin to join him. He hears the soft thump of clothing dropping to the floor and then a dip in the mattress next to him.

Obi-wan lays on his back, as he assumes does Anakin.

Then there’s a shuffle as Anakin readjusts, and with a slight startle, Obi-wan feels a bare arm rest against his chest, a face in his neck, a leg thrown over his. It’s odd, but rather nice. Obi-wan doesn’t remember the last time he felt so safe.

“Is this okay?” Anakin mumbles into the crook of his neck, blowing hot air over his collarbones.

“Yes.” Obi-wan faintly wonders if Anakin can feel his heartbeat.

“What were your nightmares about?”

Obi-wan considers this. Blood, so much blood, headless bodies strewn over a hopeless landscape, their heads coming to life and blaming their deaths on him, his call, his decisions. Qui-gon, standing in the flames, yelling at him to be better, to have saved him, saved his men, to save Anakin. Stillness, as he stands utterly alone and deserted, everyone finalizing realizing they were better off without him, because he is worthless, unlovable, tainted-

“The war.” Obi-wan answers, his voice cracking. “And you?”

When no reply comes, Obi-wan wraps his arm around Anakin’s back, tracing his spine, the flesh warm and smooth underneath his fingertips. Anakin’s breaths come slow and even, and his hand twitches once.

Already asleep, then.

Obi-wan bites a lip to keep from chuckling. Maybe this is the trick to get him to sleep. He rests his cheek against his hair, presses a light kiss to the top of his head.

“I dream of losing you, dear one,” he whispers out to no one, letting the honesty linger in the darkness above them. He trusts the nighttime to keep his secrets.

When they both wake up in the morning, Obi-wan is sure there will be some level of embarrassment from cuddling, from cracking open their hard exteriors to each other. They’ll probably be sent out to the frontlines and never speak of this again.

He feels the sturdy muscles of Anakin’s sides, the dip of his waist and rise of his hips.

For now, Obi-wan holds him, keeps him safe from the torment of his own brain, and lets him get some much needed sleep.

___

Light billows out from underneath the door when Obi-wan wakes, morning having come and gone long ago.

Anakin has curled further into him, practically seeping into his bones. There’s a leg thrown over his waist, face completely smooshed in his neck, and his arm drapes over his chest, Anakin’s palm cupping the side of his face. Delicate snores come from Anakin’s nose, and Obi-wan’s neck is hot from Anakin’s breath. Obi-wan’s hand is settled in the small of Anakin’s back, the other arm thrown up above Obi-wan’s head.

A languid grin finds its home on Obi-wan’s face, sleep tugging at his edges. He hasn’t felt so well rested in years.

Not wanting to wake Anakin, Obi-wan flutters shut his eyes, and lets himself drift back off, soaking in the feeling of love and security that pool together in his heart.

He can feel Anakin breathing steadily on top of him, peacefully.

The war will have to wait.

#boonki writes #obikin #obiwan #obiwan kenobi #anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars #prompts #ask #sonda walkin #i hope this makes sense #i wrote this at 2 am whats good #fanfic #hurt/comfort #sleep deprivation #obiwan & anakin #obi-wan/Anakin #THEY JUST NEED SOME FUKIN SLEEP DUDE #let them cuddle

192 notes · View notes

sonderwalker · 3 years

Note

Sonda walkin

hell yeah dude fuck the police

#I HAVE HAD SEVERAL DRINKS #asks #answered

6 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Note

“It’s freezing. Come here.” from the prompt list please~!

okay same thing as the other one, i know you asked this like five billion years ago, but life has been A Lot recently so i’m sorry this is late!! but here you are.

this one features anakin being a little shit, while also Hopelessly Pining~

enjoy, my dear!! ❤️

(also, all the science in this? fictional. would a space heater be picked up by scanners? would they be able to exist without life systems on? idk bro, just avert your eyes for the sake of the plot)

______

Ilum, despite its significance for the Jedi Order, is a horrible planet. Anakin shivers in the small space of the command room, his bedroll and blankets doing very little to keep him safe from the cold seeping in through every crack in the ship. Beside him, Obi-wan sits cross legged on his own bedroll, rubbing his hands together, buried under layers and layers of material. A large thermos of tea sits in front of him, shut tightly to keep the heat in; it has to last through Ilum’s long, thirty six hour night.

Rumors of Separatist forces stealing bits of kyber from the crystal cave had snaked their way back to the council, which had been received with profound distress; the cave is sacred to the Jedi, not to mention a large component in making weapons. Anakin, nor the council, doesn’t think Separatists are making lightsabers, but the fact is, he doesn’t know. No one knows why they would be here.

Thus, Obi-wan and Anakin, The Team, had been sent to investigate.

Investigating looks a lot more like parking outside the entrance of the cave and sitting inside of a cold, nondescript shuttle with the engine and life support systems turned off, to ensure no scanners or droids would pick them up. The only light in the shuttle streams in through the transperisteel viewport from Ilum’s two moons, casting most of the command room into shadows. At least they had brought plenty of blankets, warm clothing, and a small radiant heater that had been charged prior to landing.

Anakin notices Obi-wan shaking, his many layers and fur-lined jacket doing nothing to hide the tremors. His fingertips are pale around the thermos when he pushes the lid off, bringing it to his hooded face to let the steam waft up into his chin. He takes a small sip and closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth flooding his chest. He looks miserable, and Anakin feels helpless in making it better, cheering his old master up. He knows it isn’t his responsibility, and that Obi-wan is more than capable of taking care of himself.

Still, he wants to do something.

They’ve been sitting in silence for the better part of the night, having run out of conversation hours ago. When Anakin speaks, his voice is scratchy, like he had just woken up.

“Hey, it’s freezing, c’mere,” he motions for Obi-wan to scoot closer to him.

Obi-wan’s eyes blink open slowly, full of caution and distrust. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but absolutely not.”

Anakin scoffs. “I’m not planning anything, just get over here.”

“Anakin I practically raised you, I know when you’re up to something.” Obi-wan is still holding the thermos to his chin, huddled into himself. He closes his eyes again, and if Anakin didn’t know any better, it would look like he’s meditating. He does, however, know better.

“Just, get over here, will you?” Anakin makes an exasperated noise and pat pats the space next to him. “Let me warm your hands up.”

Obi-wan sighs, as if the universe had cursed him with such a nuisance of a padawan, and peels his eyes open again. He pushes the lid of the thermos closed, disgruntled, and scooches closer to Anakin, pulling his nest of blankets with him. He begins to hold his hands out, but pauses, eyeing Anakin intently for any hint of mischievousness, and finding none, offers them to him fully.

Too easy, Anakin thinks.

He grins like an imp and darts his hands out to grab Obi-wan’s wrists, pulling Obi-wan’s hands up his shirt and into his armpits, where he squishes them into place and fortifies his grasp, prepared for Obi-wan’s initial recoil.

Obi-wan flinches, and screws his face up in disgust, trying to tug backwards. “Anakin, don’t be vile, let me go.” But Anakin is giggling like a schoolboy, clenching his arms down on Obi-wan’s hands, his grip on Obi-wan’s wrists impossible to break out of.

“No, I’m warming your hands up.” Anakin teases, and takes in Obi-wan’s outraged expression, his murderous glower a stark contrast to the fluffy pile of blankets that hang off him, and can’t help the bubble of affection that expands in his chest. He used to love pranking his master, used to love setting up harmless traps to gain a reaction out of Obi-wan Kenobi, the perfect Jedi. It’s been years since he’s had the chance to laugh like this.

Then a corner of Obi-wan’s mouth tugs back in a devious grin, and the bubble of affection pops, leaving only pure dread. Anakin immediately regrets his little stunt.

Obi-wan manages to squirm a little in his hold, rotating his hands enough so that his fingers can poke into Anakin’s armpits, tickling him. Anakin vaults backwards, but Obi-wan stays with him, tongue poking out in between his teeth, a full smile on his face.

“No, stop-” Anakin is suffocating with laughter, trying, and failing, to shove Obi-wan off.

Obi-wan shoves him back and hooks a leg over his stomach, straddling him. “But, dear padawan, my hands aren’t warm yet.” He’s snickering, all of his blankets pushed to the side in the tousle. Anakin’s shirt is pushed up to his chest as he lays on his back, exposing his skin to the cold.

Anakin knows he’s making obscene noises as Obi-wan tickles him, aborted laughs and high pitched yelps, and a string of incoherent no, stop, please, get off is bubbling out of his mouth before he can even think about it. Obi-wan’s eyes are alight above him, twinkling, full of glee.

After what feels like years, Obi-wan relents, coming to rest his hands on the broad plain of Anakin’s chest. They’re both heaving air, breathless from all the play fighting and laughing. “And here I thought you were actually going to be nice to me, for once.” Obi-wan leans down towards his face, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Anakin lets his head thump onto the ground, exposing his neck, and rests his hands on Obi-wan’s. “I’m always nice to you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Shoving my hands into your armpits is you being nice, then?” Obi-wan snorts, and his eyebrow somehow hitches further up on his forehead. “If only that were true, darling.”

Despite the cold, Anakin feels himself reddening at the pet name, and his rather compromised position underneath Obi-wan. Their faces are only about a foot away, which feels like inches to Anakin. If he propped an elbow up, he would be close enough to close the gap and kiss him.

Sensing the sudden shift in energy, Obi-wan stiffens, as if suddenly aware that he’s straddling Anakin’s bare stomach, alone, in a dim and freezing ship. He clears his throat and awkwardly climbs off Anakin, gathering the mess of blankets left in the wake of their skirmish. In a better light, Anakin would’ve been able to see the blush burning away at Obi-wan’s ears, practically melting them.

Anakin sits up, yanking his shirt back down. “Do you want to-”

“We should-” They speak at the same time, and Obi-wan stops, gesturing at Anakin. “You first.”

“No, you go.” Anakin can’t quite look him in the eye, and he focuses instead of wrapping himself in his blanket again.

Obi-wan makes an exasperated noise in the back of his throat. “Anakin.”

“Maybe, we should, I mean only if you want to,” Anakin fiddles with the corner of the fabric, “huddle for warmth?” It feels as ridiculous as it sounds, and Anakin regrets it as soon as he’s said it.

“Oh, so you can maneuver my face into your smelly armpit?” Obi-wan jests, his tone laced with mirth, and he reaches for his thermos, always finding calm within his tea.

“Hey!” Anakin’s mouth drops open. “I don’t smell.”

Obi-wan’s eyebrows jump once as he pops the lid off and takes a sip, shrugging. “Maybe not to you, my dear.”

Anakin, offended, pulls his knees to chest, resting his head on his kneecaps. “I was being serious,” he mumbles into the material of his pants. He’s freezing from being subjected to the cold air for so long, all of his body heated lingering in the air around them. “What were you going to say?” he asks.

Obi-wan makes a hm? noise as he lays down on his bedroll, and then says, “Oh, right. I was going to say we should try and get some sleep.”

Anakin half heartedly nods his head best he can against his legs. A shiver tears through him, and he hunches into himself, wishing they could turn the ship’s heaters on. As fun as their shenanigans had been, it left them both significantly colder than before. He reaches out to see if the radiant heater will go any higher. It won’t.

“Anakin,” Obi-wan says, softly. “Come here.”

Anakin is dubious. “Why?”

“You’re right. Body heat is probably our best option right now, given the circumstances.” Obi-wan unwraps his blankets and begins unzipping his thick jacket, holding the space open for Anakin. “Here, before I get cold.”

Anakin’s heart stutters in his chest.

He crawls over to Obi-wan’s bedroll and sheds his jacket, tucking himself into Obi-wan so that his back is flush with Obi-wan’s chest, Obi-wan’s breath hot on his ear. As Obi-wan snakes a cold hand to rest on his chest, Anakin pulls his jacket on backwards so that his arms stay warm, and spreads the blankets out on top of them evenly, best he can.

He feels...at home in Obi-wan’s arms, he thinks, and mentally kicks himself. Obi-wan is only doing this because of the impending frostbite if they don’t.

Silence settles over the pair, only the sounds of their slow breathing to keep them company.

“Do I really smell, master?” Anakin whispers into the dark.

Obi-wan snorts into his neck. “Always, dear one.” He pats Anakin’s chest to console him.

Anakin turns in place, lifting his arms above Obi-wan’s head, shoving his face into his armpit. “How about now?”

Needless to say, they sleep on separate bedrolls.

Anakin shivers with regret the rest of the night.

#boonki writes #sonda walkin #obikin #anakin/obi-wan #obi-wan/Anakin #prompts #fluff #star wars #fanfic #ask #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #anakin: here i need to make obiwan feel better #also anakin: >:)#just boys being boys yknow #idiots in love

169 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Text

was tagged by my beloved @sonderwalker 💕💕💕

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

links on the titles will take you to their corresponding ao3 post!

1) all that and a cup of tea

The first time Anakin notices a boy, he is nine, and fascinated by the way it feels to touch. The other boy, eleven, also part of the free after-school program he belonged to, had leaned against him during reading time. It had been early summer, and both the boys were wearing tank tops. The surface of Anakin’s arm felt like fire where they touched, and the rest of him had melted.

2) like a petal, i fall

Obi-wan throws a side kick that lands square in Anakin’s stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. He rolls over a shoulder, ready for the next attack. He blocks a fist to the face, and counters with a punch to Obi-wan’s stomach, which is easily batted to the side.

3) my heart is buried with you, hold it for eternity

Grief needles into his heart, and like a nasty splinter underneath a fingernail, the pain spreads, transmuting into dripping anger the further it seeps into his body: the devil’s alchemy.

4) with love, from m6

Anakin can count on one hand all the times he’s witnessed Obi-wan voluntarily work on a droid. And yet, however unlikely, the scene before him in the dim evening light of their quarters is undeniable:

5) wanted, needed, loved

Anakin can hardly feel the sharp edges of the chair beneath him, his anguish and rage drowning out his senses as he waits for Obi-wan to return to their quarters.

6) your heart as a pillow, i finally sleep

7) the heart knows no devotion, like a shore upon the ocean

Snow dots Obi-wan’s eyelashes, holding perfectly still as the pair weaves their way through the crowd; the Christmas festival had just begun, gloriously donned trees and handcrafted, larger-than-life gingerbread houses carefully placed through the city like a treasure hunt for Christmas spirit. Obi-wan, a native to the city and a long time participant in the festival, drags Anakin, a new initiate and boyfriend of a few months, behind him by the hand, their fingers intertwined through thick gloves.

8) i’ve got auditory issues, a heart full of love, and some hot chocolate baby

“You’ve never” --she halts in place, skittering to a stop on the broken pavement of the sidewalk and staring him dead in the eye-- “I’m being serious, Skyguy. You’ve never had hot cocoa? Obi-wan loves hot cocoa.” Her face is painfully earnest, and Anakin doesn’t know what to do with it, but an odd tendril of guilt for never having tasted this drink is coiling around his insides.

9) falling in a love in a-one, two, three

Obi-wan is grateful that he’s able to blame the flush of his cheeks on the wine cradled in his hand when Anakin strolls in through the grand entrance. The crowd parts for him naturally, his azure silk top with puffy, long sleeves and tight-fitting black pants allowing him to fit in amongst the senators and royals, the force creating the tiniest golden shimmer around the edges of Anakin’s honeyed curls. Anakin lifts his head to scan the crowd, a note of recognition passing through his features when he locks eyes with Obi-wan. He looks ethereal, a sight to behold--

“Come here often?” Anakin teases, lifting an eyebrow at Obi-wan, who is undoubtedly staring at him, blushing at him, even. He’s had far too much wine.

10) ginger tea

Obi-wan holds a hand to Anakin’s forehead. It’s hot.

OKAY I’m gonna stop there because this is already too long and the rest of my works are scattered about tumblr under the tag ‘boonki writes’ somewhere! thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far!

gonna tag (if you haven’t done it already): @xeniaraven @lynnpaper @rhea-imagined @jswander @obiwanobi @nixie-deangel 💕💕💕💕

#tag game #sonda walkin #trying to get through everything ive missed on here recently!!#this is almost just my works page on ao3 ahah #go read them #(●♡◡♡●)

4 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Note

friend!!!!!

FRIEND!!! FRIEND!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#am I missing something #I mean ily and I’m excited to see you in my inbox but 😂😂#HI FRIEND HOW ARE YOU #this is so cute aha #sonda walkin

5 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Note

YOUR SUNDRESS!!!!

AAAAAAHHHHHH FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND THANK YOUUUUUU I APPRECIATE YOU

THANK YOU FOR VALIDATING ME AND MY NEW DRESS I LOVE YOU

#sonda walkin #my beloved #🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#I am smiling #and doing a happy dance #ur so nice #thank u #❤️

3 notes · View notes

boonki · 3 years

Note

8,9,11,16 for the soft personal asks!

you’re a gem i hope you know that

8. tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good.

omg where do i even start, you, @shatouto, @chechilia , @tomicaleto, @jswander , @the-inevitability-of-death (i know we’ve never interacted EVER but i was a long time lurker during unus annus and i loved keeping up with your blog/ao3!), pretty much anyone on the obikin server tbh you all make me go !!! :D whenever i see/interact with y’all (even though I’m SO bad at remembering who is who on here), my heart is so FULL with love for everyone on there

and so many more that i’m just forgetting right now

@kickassfu , @sea-slug-dubstep seeing you both reblog my stuff straight in a row late at night for me always makes me smile :) its always like ‘oh!! i see you!! hello!!’

9. what calms you down?

The ritual of making tea. It can really be any flavor of tea (though peppermint is objectively The Best), but the process of putting water in the kettle, turning the stove on, ripping open a bag of tea, pouring the water in, watching the color of the water turn, taking the first sip... it’s incredibly calming.

A cup of hot cocoa is my go-to for super shitty days. Like, failing a final, breaking up with someone, having hard and messy conversations, crying driving home- those type of days. No matter what happens, I always feel more at ease with a cup of hot cocoa.

And the beach! Standing at the edge of the ocean, sand in my toes, taking in full breaths of the salty air makes me feel so much more rooted, whole, like exhaling after holding a breath for too long. Going to the ocean is like months worth of therapy for me.

11. what’s your ideal date?

Looking to take me on a date ;) lmaoo

I’m SUCH a romantic, like the #1 way to woo me is with love letters and small tokens of affection, but I’m also full to the brim of nervous energy, so anything that keeps me moving and laughing is a great date. I love high adrenaline dates, like theme parks, playing arcade games, going skating, or anything really where we have fun together. The whole idea of a nice dinner where all you do is stare at each other and talk makes me want to dig myself a cave and never come out, listen I have anxiety. I want to go on adventures :)

16. compliment the person who sent you this number.

Your writing is easy to read. And I mean that in the sense that I don’t notice I’m reading, which is like, one of the best compliments I can give someone because it means it flows and weaves so well that I’m fully immersed in the story and the feelings I’m getting from the story- no hiccups or awkward lines or weird grammar, just pure story. ALSO the sheer creativity???? hello?? i see you posting like sixteen new drabbles every night??? how do you do it??? pls share ur secret thank

OKIEE TIME TO GO WRITE YOUR FEVER PROMPTS WOOT WOOT

#ask game #sonda walkin #that is officially my tag for you lmaoooo #what does it mean #no one knows #thank you for the ask!!!

2 notes · View notes