I'm shaking. I'm fucking shaking. I never wanted to breed with anyone more than I want to with Nolan Grayson. That perfect, shredded body. The perfectly trimmed mustache. The planet conquering skills of a literal god. It honestly fucking hurts knowing that I'll never mate with him, have him pass his genes through me, and have me birth a set of perfect offspring. I'd do fucking ANYTHING for the chance for Nolan Grayson to get me pregnant. A N Y T H I N G. And the fact that I can't is quite honestly too much to fucking bear. Why would Robert Kirkman create something so perfect? To fucking tantalize us? Fucking laugh in our faces?! Honestly, I just fucking can't anymore. Fuck.
๐๐ ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ช๐ป๐ฎ๐ผ๐ฝ ๐ซ๐ป๐ธ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ป, ๐ ๐๐ป๐ฒ๐ฝ๐ฎ ๐๐ธ๐พ ๐ฒ๐ท ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฎ๐น ๐ถ๐ฎ๐ต๐ช๐ท๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ธ๐ต๐. ๐๐ฝ ๐ช๐น๐น๐ฎ๐ช๐ป๐ผ ๐ฝ๐ธ ๐ถ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ช๐ฝ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฎ ๐ฒ๐ผ๐ท'๐ฝ ๐ช๐ท๐ ๐ฌ๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด ๐ต๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ฝ