seen from Canada
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Australia
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seen from Portugal
@darlngdearestdead
‘ OH, GOD. ‘ the wide flutter of sam’s emotive eyes is comical. the sureness in his stance melts into wiggly gelatin. were it possible, he may have shrunk a few inches in his chagrin. he holds his hands up submissively, a shiny silver-barreled pistol pointed loosely up at the sky. ‘ i’m sorry! this was--a minor misunderstanding. ‘
darlngdearestdead said: “this happens every time we get together.” / clara
my own private idaho ( 1991 ) sentence starters
“Is that a complaint, Oswald?” For some reason, they always managed to find eachother while hiding out or on the run. It was becoming a pattern. A strange one. It was very likely they had the similar sources in shield. “I thought you were starting to like me.” It was easy to say that sarcasm with her came pretty easily.
@toofckngtiny
darlngdearestdead said: “fuck you—-now come over here and let me patch that up.” / Jane
I can’t find this meme.
She just raised her brows at the other, her head tilting a little to the side. “That’s unnecessary, I have a very advanced healing factor.” She lifted her shirt a little to show her the gash she’d gotten that was already scabbed over and a bit smaller than before. But that just made a twinge go through her back and she frowned. So, reluctantly, she sat down in front of Jane and tugged off her shirt--feeling it try and stick to her back. “I think there’s shrapnel in my shoulder.”
@motherfckngroundhog
darlngdearestdead said: “jesus, the things we’ve seen.” / clara or jane
my own private idaho ( 1991 ) sentence starters
“We could write a novel.” They could make up an entire library, It was startling to think about just how much their collective existences made up. How nearly all of her’s was war. How this woman was functionally immortal. By all means, they used to be roommates together in an abandoned warehouse, now Clara was just dropping by this apartment that was given to her under fake papers. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some bulgogi in the fridge.”
@toofckngtiny
darling--dearest--dead started following you
Was that...Beatrice? Had to be. A face like hers wasn't very easily repeated.
Olaf felt like he should've been angry to see her alive, but he wasn't so sure she was even there. She could've been a ghost for all he knew. The way she was looking at him was vacant and meaningless, like accidentally meeting the gaze of a complete stranger on the bus. Her eyes were without anger or fear or hate or even the slightest glimmer of recognition of the man who had murdered her (or at least tried to). For a moment Olaf thought maybe it wasn't her after all, then something occurred to him, and his shiny blue eyes flickered with malicious excitement.
She doesn't remember me. He thought, grinning internally. She doesn't suspect a thing.
"Good evening, miss." Olaf said, smiling and extending one hand towards her. "My name is Count Olaf, how do you do?"
darling--dearest--dead started following you
Kit was shocked. Terribly shocked. She practically froze at where she stood as she saw the all-too-familiar woman before her and Kit couldn't even find words to say. How should she react? How did she....how did she survive the Baudelaire fire?
"B-Bea....?" Kit called hesitantly with a shocked expression on her face.
