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.
CREWMATE? NAME ๐ EVERY ๐ฏ TASK ๐ ๐ซ๐ ๐ซ๐ ๐ซ๐ ๐ซ๐ ๐ซ๐ Where Any sus!โ โ Where!โ โ Where! Any sus!โ Where! โ Any sus!โ โ Any sus ๐๐ณ๏ธโ๐! โ โ โ โ Where!Where!Where! Any sus!Where!Any sus ๐๐ณ๏ธโ๐ Where!โ Where! โ Where!Any susโ โ Any sus ๐ฆ! โ โ โ โ โ โ Where! โ Where! โ Any sus!โ โ โ โ Any sus ๐๐ณ๏ธโ๐! โ โ Where!โ Any sus ๐ฆ! โ โ Where!โ โ Where! โ Where!Where! โ โ โ โ โ โ โ Any sus!โ โ โ Any sus!โ โ โ โ Where! โ Where! Where!Any sus!Where! Where! โ โ โ โ โ โ I ๐ฅ think
it was purple!๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐It wasnt me I ๐ was in vents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!๐๐คฃ๐๐คฃ๐๐คฃ๐๐๐๐คฃ๐คฃ๐คฃ๐๐๐