You are in our homes. You are in our beds. You are in our hands. I only hope, you have not infested our brains. For there, I hope is still electricity free.
Poetry fanfiction: Tony Stark was a child who could listen and talk to machines.
A curious rumor is flitting around the city underneath the 1st floor... Help might be coming today.
Part 17 of The Island.
Note: To start from the beginning, go to this link: https://commaful.com/series/xtrole/the-island/
50 years later too everything was same for her. Same as before.
Rain...the thing Naira loved the most. Rain, the only thing that helps to increase your happiness and cover up your pain. It is great isn't it. And that's why Naira loved it. And that's how God helped...
When it's time to trade cargo shorts in for black Vans and band tees.
You are in our homes. You are in our beds. You are in our hands. I only hope, you have not infested our brains. For there, I hope is still electricity free.
Poetry fanfiction: Tony Stark was a child who could listen and talk to machines.
A curious rumor is flitting around the city underneath the 1st floor... Help might be coming today.
Part 17 of The Island.
Note: To start from the beginning, go to this link: https://commaful.com/series/xtrole/the-island/
50 years later too everything was same for her. Same as before.
Rain...the thing Naira loved the most. Rain, the only thing that helps to increase your happiness and cover up your pain. It is great isn't it. And that's why Naira loved it. And that's how God helped...
When it's time to trade cargo shorts in for black Vans and band tees.