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01 August 2011 @ 02:20 am
The Tim/Kon Meme  
Tim/Kon Prompt Post



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♥ This meme is for Tim/Kon prompts. Gen prompts focusing on the friendship between Tim and Kon are also accepted. The relationship between Tim and Kon should be the main focus of the prompt or fill.

♥ Both anon and signed-in posts are welcome.

♥ One prompt per comment. You may post as many comments as you wish.

♥ All canons and continuities welcome. This extends to games, movies and television, be it animated or live-action.

♥ When filling, add the word FILL to your subject line. When prompting, try to include keywords in your subject line.

♥ Warn for anything that could be triggering. For those who do not want to use specific warnings, please warn for ‘no warnings’ or ‘disturbing content’ as applicable.

♥ Be respectful and warn for spoilers!

♥ Please report your fills. Multiple fills are encouraged.

These are an extremely condensed version of the rules. Please try to take the time to read through the full rules when you can. If you have any questions, let me know here.
 
 
 
ayziliaayzilia on August 11th, 2011 12:45 am (UTC)
Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
The negotiations had progressed at a glacier’s pace off and on for months. Three months, two weeks, four days to be precise. Tim felt his brow pinching up and his lips twitching into a frown. He inhaled and consciously relaxed his facial muscles—tried to exhale his unease and simply enjoy the feel of Dick’s protective arm slung across his shoulder after so many months apart. He couldn’t quite manage it.

Tim, Jason, Cass, and Damian had received Bruce’s summons yesterday evening and while Dick had pretty much assaulted all his siblings with physical affection the instant they disembarked the Wayne Jet, he’d latched onto Tim like one of Poison Ivy’s vines and hadn’t released him since. Now in the tense silence of the limo bearing his family downtown to the repurposed Daily Planet building, Tim bit the inside of his bottom lip as Dick used his one-armed hug to pull Tim even closer and press a kiss into his hair.

“Everything is going to work out,” Dick promised before resting his chin atop Tim’s head. Tim for his part looked straight ahead, watching as Cass’ eyes narrowed further.

“Dick, what’s going on?” Tim asked softly, “You’ve got me sc—ah, worried. A bit.”

Dick straightened up. In his peripheral vision, Tim could see Dick glaring blue death in Bruce’s direction.

Bruce frowned, “We concluded the negotiations with the Kryptonians.”

“No shit,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms over his broad chest against the coming explanation for Bruce and Dick’s increasingly troubling manner, “We figured that one out for ourselves.”

Bruce quelled Jason with a strong look then plunged on, “We wanted the family here when the finished document is signed. To support…”

Worryingly, Bruce’s expression shifted. Just the tightening of a few muscles around his eyes, but suddenly Bruce looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Bruce?” Jason barked.

Dick brought his free hand to Tim’s chin and turned his head to look Tim in the eyes.

“I don’t think Bruce can say this,” Dick sighed, “We fought them on this, but the Kryptonians wouldn’t change they’re—well really his—position.”

“Kept invoking the importance of family,” Bruce grumbled to the tinted glass window. “Like I don’t understand—”

“Clark wanted insurance. Apparently we’ve made him a shade cynical over the years,” Dick smirked, but his eyes didn’t dance with their usual mirth.

“You’re staking around the issue,” Tim frowned. “What sort of insurance did he want?”

Dick’s hand flexed on his shoulder before he explained, “He wants you to marry his son, Kon-El.”

Tim blinked several times. Dick watched him closely with a concerned expression. Tim hardly heard Jason’s indignant squawk of “What the fuck?” and saw but didn’t truly register Cass’ bared teeth. His focus was turned inward, a deluge of a thousand rationalizations, possible contingency plans, and future projections all blurring into a hum of images and thoughts and worries and—his stomach felt—his chest felt tight.

“I understand,” Tim distantly heard himself say in a dull flat tone, “There is a long history across many cultures attesting to the use of arranged marriages as a guarantee on treaties or similar arrangements.”
Bruce nodded. “A measure of each side’s commitment.”

Then his panic rushed in like color and the world refocused.

“But what about—? Dick told me last week you got the ‘No Kryptonians in Gotham without my express permission’ clause! I’ll have to stay in Metropolis. With a guy I’ve never even met. What about Gotham? What about my responsibilities as Robin?” Tim couldn’t stop the rush of words from escaping. In his mind’s eye he could see his family, all suited up in their protector’s garb, walking away. Heading back to Gotham, to his home, and leaving him behind.

He hadn’t felt this sort of panic constricting his rib cage since his parents had been trampled at a demonstration turned fear-crazed mob protesting the very first wave of Kryptonian colonization.

“Damian can take over as Robin.” Bruce announced, answering all of Tim’s fears in six simple words, one sentence, one moment. “He’s ready.”

ayziliaayzilia on August 11th, 2011 12:53 am (UTC)
Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Tim felt rage flush through his bones, congealing in his joints, making him ache. His fisted his hands in his lap. Damian straightened up from where he’d curled into himself at the far end of the limo. Jason continued to curse a blue streak.

“Really?” Damian asked, sounding more his ten years than he ever did.

“Bruce,” Dick growled. “Now is not the time.”

Bruce nodded again and trapped Tim in that intensely blue gaze. His eyes said so much more than his words ever could, but Tim found himself wholly unable to decipher the present message.

“Tim,” Bruce said gravely, “This is as important a responsibility as Robin ever was.”

~*~

Lights moodily off, Kon sat in the empty conference room idly dissembling and resembling a sleek fountain pen with his TTK and thinking much more deeply than he normally allowed himself to—as deep thoughts in his mind unavoidably led to brooding alone in dark rooms (check), awkward lagging conversations with Clark, teasing from Kara and Karen, or on especially epic occurrences, all three. Really he was just one stray thought fragment away from a full existential crisis, which he also fought tooth and nail to avoid.

All in all, he’d much rather be out partying in some manner or another than holed up drowning in his own stupid angst.

But today… he didn’t see any way around it. As soon as Wayne’s limo returned from the airstrip he’d be binding himself to the son of the man in control of one of the last entirely human (anti-Kryptonian) cities (factions) remaining. Kon got why this treaty was important—Wayne’s influence and suspicious nature had made life on the planet difficult for colonists for years. Not that he’d publically said much on the subject, but his actions sent a clear message: the Batman chasing every Kryptonian out of Gotham, pulling support from the Justice League, stockpiling Kryptonite, the list went on. Well, Bruce Wayne had his own stupid rationale, but Kon… Kon had some legitimate concerns in regards to dealing with humans. After all, they’d grown him in a test tube as an experiment to try to ‘further understand’ what they were ‘dealing with’ (a displaced people, not an invading force, jeez) and Kon thought he was allowed to maintain a certain degree of resentment as a result.

Clark had rescued him. Given him a name. Made him family. Locked Lex Luther (sick fuck) up for playing God with sentient life. So what if he wasn’t human? Or even born? He thought…and therefore he was. Right? Of course it hadn’t helped species relations when a rogue Kryptonian assassinated Luther upon his release from prison, but Kon had felt safer with the guy gone. More like a living being.

Now Clark was trying to secure him a future. Kon understood that.

But this whole situation still really just sucked.

~*~


More to come! Promise!
Does all her own stunts: Tim/Konairawyn on August 11th, 2011 01:13 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Very interesting start! Can't wait to read more.
ayziliaayzilia on August 11th, 2011 01:18 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Thanks! At least a bit more will be up tomorrow.
We're only several miles from the sunanimegoil on August 11th, 2011 01:47 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Ooooh, love the attention to detail and they way you're really taking your time setting this up ♥ Loved Tim's inner panic too, even as he tried to be calm and rational at the same time.
ayziliaayzilia on August 11th, 2011 02:11 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Thank you for such a lovely comment!
(Deleted comment)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?) - ayzilia on August 12th, 2011 01:49 am (UTC) (Expand)
Salmon Pinksalmon_pink on August 11th, 2011 06:50 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?)
Oooh, deliciously intriguing! Love the world you've set up, the tensions. Looking forward to more. ♥
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (1/?) - ayzilia on August 12th, 2011 01:48 am (UTC) (Expand)
ayziliaayzilia on August 12th, 2011 02:21 am (UTC)
Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?)
Tim’s first impression upon entering the conference room filled with (apparently) his future in-laws surprised him. As a member of Gotham’s most elite family of protectors Tim was unaccustomed to being intimidated, but whoa big. And intimidating. Superman (and really Tim knew both Dick and Bruce thought of him as Clark, but Tim found it hard to do the same with the way power just seemed to emanate off the guy) stood half a head taller than Bruce. Tim had lived and worked alongside superbly fit people his entire adolescence (had watched for longer still), but he boggled at the sheer size: thick neck, broad shoulders, huge arms…

And at Superman’s side—shorter jet black hair, same facial structure if still softened by youth, same unsettling blue blue eyes, same musculature, several inches taller than Tim and obviously still growing—stood a glaring Kon-El.

Tim’s eyes skittered over Kon’s form before glancing back up at his face and catching. Like a mirror image Tim vaguely felt his own eyes widen in time with Kon’s, who no longer glared. Rather, he now looked surprised with his wide eyes and slightly agape mouth. Then Kon smirked and Tim yanked his gaze away, pretending instead to watch Bruce and Superman exchange grim handshakes and set smiles (they had been friends once some calm part of Tim’s mind informed him) and then Dick briefly hug Superman (Dick had once called Clark uncle, Tim recalled). At the forefront of Tim’s mind however, anxiety rushed in circles with panic, stopping only occasionally to flirt with betrayal or abandonment. Tim breathed deep through his nose and robotically sat between Dick and Cass when everyone else sat, calling on his Robin (not his anymore) training to keep the breaths steady. Bruce sat on the other side of Dick; Jason and then Damian on the other side of him. The Kryptonians settled across the wide honey-colored expanse of the table-top: Superman across from Bruce, Supergirl across from Dick, Powergirl across from Jason, Superboy across from Tim.

Tim pointedly did not look back at his future husband. Had his eyes really flashed red in the instant before that smirk? Tim had studied Kryptonians—Bruce hadn’t even had to insist the way he did with Jason and Damian. Tim had learned the language, understood what was known of the physiology. He knew laser vision was triggered by lust or anger. At the moment the idea of Kon-El acutely experiencing either of those emotions as a result of locking eyes with Tim…

Anxiety rose sharply from Tim’s twisting stomach, threatening to choke him. Tim fisted his hands in his lap and stared down at the wood grain of the table.

“Well, now that we’ve all been introduced,” Superman’s huge smile didn’t seem forced, but juxtaposed to Bruce and the Bats’ stoic demeanor (especially Jason’s outright hostile one) and even the other Kryptonians, Superman’s cheer came across as over the top and set the room on edge. On an even sharper edge that is. “Are then any amendments we need to discuss, or are we ready to throw open the doors to Lois and the reporters and get this thing singed and done?”

“Any amendments,” Bruce replied evenly, “Would mean another week at this table.”

“Right,” Superman agreed, still grinning. “I’ll take that as a ‘Get on with it Clark.’”

Bruce nodded in response and Superman looked significantly at Powergirl, who sighed and stood to fetch the press.


We're only several miles from the sunanimegoil on August 12th, 2011 02:37 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?)
♥ Timmaaaay, I love youuuu ♥ You'll get through this and you and Superboy will fight and get on each other's nerves and find out you're the perfect fit for each other so don't fret (or, well, please do fret, it's delicious, and I totally want Kon to get all anxious over Tim being anxious and just *squee*)

Okay yeah, loving the development and details. And LOL, so Tim knows some Kryptonian... I bet the Supers don't know that *grin* Tim's can totally eavesdrop without them knowing they can understand XD
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?) - ayzilia on August 16th, 2011 08:39 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Deleted comment)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?) - ayzilia on August 16th, 2011 08:31 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Salmon Pinksalmon_pink on August 12th, 2011 07:27 am (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?)
Damn, there's something delightfully squirm-inducing about Kon's eyes sparking red when he sees Tim for the first time. I'm loving how you keep adding all these little world-building details, like their various relationships the Bat-clan have, or rather had, with Clark. I swear, everyone is in character, with Jason's open-hostility, and Dick hugging Clark despite everything that's going on, and Power Girl's edge of exasperation over the proceedings. Continuing to adore this fill.
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (2/?) - ayzilia on August 16th, 2011 08:29 pm (UTC) (Expand)
ayziliaayzilia on August 16th, 2011 08:21 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?)
Sry for the delay. I've moved into a new house and the internet hasn't been hooked up yet. I couldn't stand it any longer, so today I took a break from unpacking and ducked out to a cafe with WiFi. Glorious, glorious internet! I've missed you so! But, anyway, onto Kon's thoughts on his new hubby...


The last time Kon had been surrounded by this many humans they’d all been wearing white lab coats (except for Luthor in his purple suit jacket) and poking at him and jotting down notes on electronic tablets. And while dress jackets and evening gowns had replaced the lab wear, Kon felt just as observed and uncomfortable now as he had then. Only two things kept him at this stupid “Successful Signing” reception: Clark’s steady presence, fortifying even from across the room where the guy was still doling out sound bites for a gaggle of human (and one or two Kryptonian) reporters, and Tim. Not that Tim’s presence helped ease the nervous energy buzzing just under his skin. Just the opposite. But to his great annoyance, Kon couldn’t take his eyes away.

His new husband seemed to push every one of the buttons Kon didn’t even know he had, just by standing there (or not looking at him from across the table). Kon swept his eyes over Tim’s lean fit form again and had to bite down on the inside of his lip against the surge of want that spiked through him. Totally unaffected, Tim continued conversing softly with his two older brothers. Kon shoved his hands in the stupid dress pants Kara had blackmailed him into. Did Tim not feel it? This stupid spark driving Kon stupidly, annoyingly, freaking crazy? Tim had only looked at him once the whole damn stupid day (wide blue eyes in a pale fine-boned face) and his apparent shyness—which at first had seemed endearing and lit up every protector instinct in Kon’s copy cat DNA and generally made him act stupidly puppy-eager—was starting to make Kon suspicious. And pissed off.

Did he not live up to the little Gotham prince’s standards or something? Too good for a clone? Kon felt his nostrils flare a little and glared at Tim’s half-turned back. Well, too bad. They’d both signed the damn treaty and the additional marriage contract and the freaking marriage license—Tim was his now. Kon nodded to himself. He always got who he set his sights after, he would this time too, and when Tim was all starry-eyed and charmed by his awesomeness… well then Kon wouldn’t have to worry about the sneaky little human being up to anything nefarious. And Kon totally wouldn’t let himself get blinded by Tim’s hotness (really, being human and all Kon hadn’t been expecting much but Tim was smoking in the most unassuming of ways) and if he tried anything that would hurt him or Clark or Kara he’d sic Krypto on the stupid bat. Yes, good plan. Kon nodded to himself and watched how Tim’s soft black hair flopped into his face when he shook his head minutely at a beseeching Dick.

As Kon watched the middle brother, Jason, scowled and punched Dick in the arm. Tim brought his hands up in a placating gesture.

Really the little dude was adorable. Kon smirked.

No, Kon frowned. He had to stay alert for sneaky behavior. Not get distracted by floppy hair… or beautifully dexterous fragile pale hands…

Oh shit, Tim was making his way across the room, painfully conscientious not to touch anyone even the slightest bit. Blue eyes flicked up from the floor to pin his and Kon felt just as winded this time as the last. Tim had his lips all pressed together in this thin tense line and what looked like a semi-permanent furrow of concentration or worry between his brows. Kon had to work to breathe deeply. He really wanted to run his fingers over those cheekbones, to smooth out that worry line, to trace that jaw line and tilt that perfect face up for a kiss.

Kon liked to touch. Clark theorized it had to do with being made in a test tube or his first power being tactile or (hey novel concept) both. Kon theorized he liked to touch because it just felt really freaking good. Especially when the touching involved a really hot chick. Or, heh, a freaking seductive human guy now standing just a scant centimeter outside of arm’s length.

ayziliaayzilia on August 16th, 2011 08:25 pm (UTC)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?)

“You were staring,” Tim spoke for the first time, his voice clear and somehow sharp despite how quietly he pitched his words. “Dick said I had to stop being anti-social and come talk to you.”

Kon decided he liked Dick. And he really liked having Tim’s eyes on him.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest. Hugging himself subtly. The thought distressed Kon (dammit he was getting all puppy stupid again) and wouldn’t freaking go away now that it’d popped into existence.

Tim frowned, “You know there are ways of watching people without being so obvious about it.”

Oh really? That so?

Kon smirked (his no-fail, go-to flirtation tool of epicness, just ask the Kryptonian ladies of Metropolis), “Yah? Heh, that mean you were watching me back, but with like ninja stealth skills?”

Tim’s hands flexed for a moment before his eyes narrowed.

“No,” he spit venom-sharp, “I was enjoying my time with my brothers. I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again.”

“Hey. Hey!” Kon protested, taken aback. He wiped his no-fail (fail) smirk off his face lickety-split. “That’s not my fault! You can thank Papa Bat’s bigoted butt for that particular aspect of our situation.”

“Bruce is just trying to protect Gotham,” Tim returned.

“From us?!” Kon realized his hands were out of his pockets and fisted. He hated bats. He knew he hated bats. With their stupid human city and their stupid prejudiced paranoia.

Tim raised an eyebrow. How the fuck did he look so fucking calm (and gorgeous) when Kon could feel himself shaking with too much rage. His stupid grace and poise made Kon feel like an over-reacting oaf. Not fair. Not cool. Kon could feeling his anger ratcheting up with every beat Tim let placidly pass.

“Your kind does seem to leave a great deal of destruction in your wake,” Tim stated in the ripened moment.

“You—”

Tim cut his protest short, “On average, a Super causes 6.31 thousand dollars worth of damage to public property per arrest. Granted that’s an average. But your last battle with, Mammoth was it?, cost the city of Memphis 867,933 dollars when the two of you managed to demolish half a courthouse.”

“Go back to your brothers.” Before I slip up and punch you and mess up your pretty face.

Tim’s face, his voice, went frosty, “You don’t get to give me orders.”

Kon ground his teeth and reminded himself of the press. With cameras. And stupid electronic tablets to jot down notes. “We’ll see, little buddy.”

Tim didn’t move a muscle. He looked hard and icy and totally unmovable. But Kon could hear the racing heart and smell the apprehension.

Kon felt his anger ebb. He sighed, an angry huff of air, “Go. You want to anyway.”

Tim breathed though his nose and glared with his eyes. If humans had laser vision (and Kon weren’t like invulnerable) Kon would totally be a disturbingly small pile of ash.

“Oh really, stop being obstinate!” Kon bit out.

Tim just continued to hold himself statue tense. He raised a single eyebrow at Kon’s small aborted movements.

“Fine!” Kon hissed (totally taking pity on the guy he told himself, not because Tim’s unnatural stillness and tightly controlled anxious energy was affecting him), “I’ll leave.”

And for good measure Kon floated up a few inches and flew across the room to where Kara stood snickering into a glass of punch.


Now off to read all the backlogged fic! Squee!
(Deleted comment)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - ayzilia on August 16th, 2011 10:19 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - salmon_pink on August 17th, 2011 11:58 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - ayzilia on August 19th, 2011 07:51 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - (Anonymous) on August 17th, 2011 06:50 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - ayzilia on August 19th, 2011 07:55 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - ayzilia on August 24th, 2011 03:57 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (3/?) - ayzilia on August 24th, 2011 03:59 am (UTC) (Expand)
ayziliaayzilia on August 24th, 2011 04:00 am (UTC)
Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4)
Stunned was hardly a powerful enough word to encompass the feeling flowing through Kon’s veins, growing more intense with each pump of his heart, but Kon couldn’t call upon his more advanced vocabulary with the fog of emotion sweeping through his mind as he watched Tim’s shoulders slump ever so slightly in the wake of his family’s departure. Slump and, just barely, start to shake.

Next to him Kara muttered, “You want an opening? There ya go.”

Kon turned to stare at her, wide-eyed. He might want Tim charmed (and therefore safely declawed, or untaloned, or whatever it was you did to dangerous birds, hooded maybe?), but he didn’t want to like take advantage of a shitty situation like this.

“Go!” Kara ordered, with a jerk of her head and quirk of her eyebrows, “Go comfort him.”

Right. Comfort. He could be comforting without feeling like a dirtbag. Could offer comfort without having sneaky motives. Theoretically. But as Kon studied the obvious gut-wrenching turmoil Tim Drake was trying to hold at bay—his eyes downcast, his body trembling, his expression pinched and hurting, his hands fisted and his chest heaving—Kon knew he honestly did want to help. So the guy was a bit of a tight-laced jerk, but… well, Kon didn’t want to see him hurt. He’d examine why later, now to just figure out how to do this comfort thing without getting his head bitten off in the process.

Kon approached cautiously.

As he came closer, the shudders wrecking Tim’s tense body became more pronounced and obvious. Tim glared at the ground intensely and didn’t acknowledge Kon’s soft landing before him.

Kon cleared his throat awkwardly. Tim just turned his head a bit more away. Nervous, Kon nodded to himself, put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest.

“Uh, hey man.” He started. No response.

“Um…” Kon continued, “Ah, Look I couldn’t help but notice… your family. Sucks, man. I—ah—well… Are you ok?”

That got a response. Tim raised his head, his beautiful blue eyes filled with unshed tears, and glared unholy torment at Kon. The trembling increased. Kon could hear Tim’s breathing hitch and his heart fall all over itself trying to maintain the jackrabbit pace it’d set.

Kon deflated and brought his hands out in front of him. He back pedaled swiftly, “Ah, no you don’t have to answer that. That was a really stupid question, I mean—ah…”

Oh God, he was rambling like an idiot, but he didn’t know what to say, but he really wanted Tim to stop looking so wounded and start snarking again and if he could just put his hands on Tim’s shoulders to settle the shaking that was really starting to look painful and oh, he was so screwed.

Suddenly Tim softened. He relaxed his hands and straightened from his hunched over position. When he raised his now open face to Kon—well, Kon stopped breathing. Without the glare in those eyes, Tim looked so… so vulnerable.

And yah, Kon knew he was so screwed. Not in the fun way. Well maybe, hopefully, in the fun way, but also (really) he wanted Tim to look at him—hopeful, open, needy—like that again and again.

“Can—” Tim’s voice sounded wet. He stopped and cleared his throat (brought a hand up to his mouth when he did so and Kon couldn’t help but find the polite gesture adorable where usually he’d have rolled his eyes)before continuing, “Can we just get out of here?”

Kon nodded and smiled cheerfully (comfortingly?) and Tim gave him the smallest possible smile in return before looking back down at the cherry wood floors, still shy, still trying not to cry.

Kon still wanted to get his hands on him. He wanted to show the dude how a Super hug compared to a stupid Bat hug. Wanted Tim pushing at Kon’s limits and making him lose his temper and looking at him with trust and making him feel like the World’s Greatest Hero (genuine, not cloned) and generally just as wrapped around Kon’s finger and he was fast becoming wrapped around Tim’s.

And yah, unless he could get this feeling under wraps, he was totally and completely screwed.


END! For now... Hope y'all enjoyed!
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - animegoil on August 24th, 2011 04:05 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - ayzilia on August 25th, 2011 03:11 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - thelobstermob on August 24th, 2011 08:41 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - ayzilia on August 25th, 2011 03:12 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Deleted comment)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - ayzilia on August 25th, 2011 03:13 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill-- My kind is not your kind (4/4) - sweety8587 on September 7th, 2011 04:56 pm (UTC) (Expand)