#hopstial

[gerardwayspostnutclarity]

LETHAL long hair stubble combo right here.

[loudlyhappycupcake]

Danger Mouse Needs Comfort

I can only extract the text and identify some objects and public figures in this image.

The text in the image is:

CHELY AUDI: DANIEL, YOU GONNA BE OKAY. PLEASE? YOUR MY FRIEND.

DANGER MOUSE: I KNOW. I'M SORRY CHELY, I'M GETTING DARKER. 1002

It seems like the image is related to the character Danger Mouse from the animated series. Chely Audi is likely a character in the same series. The image appears to show Chely trying to comfort Danger Mouse, who is feeling upset or unwell. The number "1002" might be a reference to a specific episode or scene.

@shironezuninja @evander2511 @homuncvlus @billyjoelmutt @miniaturejudgeturkeytree @evaiskindaweird @untitled14360 @twiliartsdreams2017 @twinklemaddie @cartoonfan21 @wolfie245 @sakulovejulius12 @lillywhynot8098 @punk-63 @leo-x-u-raptor-fan @collector-noceda-clawthorne @aamericanotaku @pinkdiamondstar @chaodeknoi @clairaquos @bossbabyfan2 @bloodmoon24 @enchantedchocolatebars @niyatales4ever @jazzyrazzy157 @moonlighteclipse17 @dianathunderamazon-blog @gametoon @gamebruh12 @disneyblabberlover @buy-some-motherfuckin-apples-iv @butterfly7267 @roxxywolf-multiversa @ajaxus166 @sufan136 @freyzw0rld @princessfandom812 @broadwaygirl918 @princess-paige-place-of-fun @ellie67

[garbagedisp0sal]

[aj-ustice]

Haha not knowing how to talk to people is fun! I haven't been to the doctors for anything other than a extreme medical emergency since i was a baby. Soooo fun!!!

[moonfall666]

when r they going to invent a machine that lets u bleutooth ur period pain to ur enemies

[sansthebee]

Assistant: I got the kid knees from the transplant.

Surgeon: I said kidneys, not kid knees!

Assistant:...What am I supposed to do with all these kid knees?

[forever-aspiring-blog]

When something really shocking and life-changing occurs, it feels so surreal. You travel to this third place where only you and your thoughts exits. Nothing else matters. But the thoughts are overwhelming and devour your whole mind. You forget everything, I mean everything: where you are, who is with you; sometimes you even forget to breathe. This blanket of coverage conceals you and it’s impossible to escape. Then you snap back to reality quicker than the blink of an eye and everything hits with the most forceful smack you’ve ever experienced. You remember where you are and you don’t like it. Russet speckled tile floor and suffocating white. Mourns of despair and soggy tissues. Constant rolling wheels and frantic footsteps. Telephones crying for attention. Noise, lights. Noise, lights. Noise, lights. Every touch unreal, every breath feeling like the last, every thought racing to find its way.

My palpitating hand moves its way to where her heart should be beating. Cold chest motionless against my subsisting touch. Restless feet drag me to an aphotic hallway, empty of movement and sonority. Pictures of poorly drawn stereotypical “happy spring day” hang from the walls in wooden frames. One stood out to me: A father with black hair and bright orange skin; two girls, one slightly taller than the other, stand awkwardly above the green surface, brown hair almost to their waist. It was just like Leah’s family except for the reality being you would never catch the three of them together in a park erected with brown Crayola trees. That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t the only one loosing someone incredibly important in my life. Leah was a beloved sister and daughter, classmate and neighbor. I ran my fingers through my hair and grasped the concept of saying that she “was” a beloved so-and-so. I felt selfish for thinking I was the only one that mourned her death. Hell, even my own mother may miss her polite attitude and genuine laugh at her cheesy jokes.

All these thoughts had given me a piercing headache, so I walked out and took the elevator by myself, only to be found by a hectic, noisy ER waiting room. The selfishness overtook again as I looked at the numerous grieving families. I wasn’t the only one that lost someone today.

I reached the glass doors and exited the hospital, empty and drained. I was expecting outside to look like the depressing movies with a pouring rainfall and ugly sky, but it was a beautiful evening. Temperature just right and sky painted with hypnotizing swirls of color. Peaceful and incredibly breathtaking, just like Leah, and I knew this was the way it was supposed to be. I looked up into the sky and said goodbye to her for the first and last time. It didn’t feel right saying it to her lifeless body, because I knew she wasn’t there. But I knew she was with me now. She was in the wind that blew and the grass that lay. She was in the pastel color of the sky as the sun reached the horizon. She would never leave me. Convincing myself of that, I walked to my car and drove home in complete silence, because that was the way it was supposed to be.