I feel like garbage.
we're not kids anymore.

titsay
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occasionally subtle
KIROKAZE

pixel skylines

Andulka

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

tannertan36

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styofa doing anything
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Xuebing Du
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Kaledo Art

roma★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

⁂
seen from Türkiye
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@sasssame-blog
I feel like garbage.
Freaking out.
Know what feels great?
My boss (of whomst I hate) will come visit me and even brought me cheap shitty delicious cookies!!!!!!!! But my now ex won't.
Sure, doctor. I’m crying from pain. Exactly.
@vaultfucker
When she's not being, well, you know. She's pretty good.
I forget how much I like Nisha sometimes.
I'm going to pull my hair out.
Triton Flats, Elpis Mid-Afternoon
Timothy hates Elpis. He hates that he has to worry about breathing, that if he jumps too high he can't control his limbs from flailing in fear, that kraggons are sometimes half lava, and that he can't go a five minute lunch break without getting shot at by scavs.
Hence why when he's shoving pieces of his ham and cheese sandwich in his mouth handfuls at a time, there's a pistol in his hand, and when he's not, a fanzy two handed laser instead. He's used to swapping guns so fast, at least. Wracks up the interest.
Going to hell for what I'm about to do.
Concordia, Elpis Night
Last thing he remembered, Tim was sitting on the edge of the hostel bed he and Rhys has been sharing. His partner sat on the opposite side of the dirty mattress, knuckle deep in his cybernetic arm. It made Tim ungodly anxious as he listened to the other fiddle with wires and other tech, checking over it obsessively as if he was convinced something, anything was wrong. Tim had to give him credit, though. Obsessing over something other than the danger that hung over the both of their heads was probably the more emotionally helpful choice.
Tim stared at the echo in his hands. He’d put on something for noise. A video teaching him how to make the perfect, quality omelette. Omelette du fromage. And like, ham or something else. The double was hardly paying attention. Just. Blank stare. Dissociating, if he’d known the word existed in the moment.
Then there were footsteps. Rhys’ fiddling stopped. Tim clenched his jaw. Just someone passing through. He released tension when the steps left. The door was locked. It’s fine. Tim looked back to the video. Cook on low heat for 3 minutes. Add a little salt and pepper. Don’t touch it.
His head snaps up when the door has flung open, off it’s hinges, just past the foot of the bed. Tim’s on his feet in half a second flat, making a move to digistruct the cheap gun he’d picked up in Concordia’s hub. Just a pistol. Hyperion made. It’s a habit.
Wilhelm terrifies him. He’s big, he’s full of cybernetics, and boy does he hit hard. And boy does he hit hard. Tim doesn’t finish digistructing the gun. All he can manage is to squeeze his eyes shut before metal connects with his nose.
When he opens his eyes, the hostel room has turned into a cell. His nose aches. He can feel blood on his upper lip. Blood on the floor where his head’s been resting. Tim makes a groan of a sound, and decides it’s better to just play dead on the cold floor for now.
I’m dead.
Liar
Just wait until New Years
#this picture has a lot of powerful energy
I need that much energy to balance ten hats on my head.
So the halloween party afterparty was fun.
Thanks man for having my worm on a string back
i love you man
thats gay
Thanks man for having my worm on a string back