Jun 13, 2020
I need my guts rearranged 🍆 ☺️✨✨
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Greece
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Indonesia
I need my guts rearranged 🍆 ☺️✨✨
"corro de sentimento mas contigo é diferente"
If you’re going out to protest today PLEASE be careful and safe.❤️❤️
So I turned 21 during Covid-19... the jokes really do write themselves...
Neck kisses are a must! ❤️
This strange tearboy randomly showed up in my ceramics studio
Chent Crustworthy, obligated oblate. Her nobleclown family traded her to the Church in exchange for a subscription to their home tear-delivery service. They planned to only do this for a month in order to take advantage of the free trial, but then they got too fucked up on tears and forgot to cancel it, so that’s that. Chent makes the most of her unplanned monkhood, regaling the other Tearboys with tales of her former wealth. The weepers sit transfixed on the chilly wet floorboards of their dorms, listening to Chent recount incriminating details of her tax evasion schemes long into their breaktime. Some take sneaky notes on the insides of their duncecaps.
got these three friends yellowed from cigarettes from a lovely older lady who called them “cute little things” I wonder what their story is????
This Is What Makes Us Clowns. avantgarde stubtype girlband, led by lapsed Tearboy nun Flora L’Arrangement. they’re sweeping the charts as quickly and sloppily as they once swept the floors of their abbey. youthful in appearance, but actually all middle-aged and frightfully jaded. listening to their records is either catastrophically heretical or mandatory, depending on the denomination and musical taste of your local Church of Tears minister.
faction: Stubtypes (formerly Tearboys)
St. Blood. not a real saint; his given name is Silly Tiny Blood, but he pre-emptively initial-ed it to get ahead in the Church. he suffers terribly from social anxiety and has developed a nervous habit of clicking his heels, blissfully unaware that the ruby plimsolls he sports were whittled by a Bastard and cursed to send anyone who hears them click three times to hell. the Church views going to hell as a learning experience, so they see no reason to step in.
faction: Tearboy/Small