♥ liked by @unchainedDecay
up at 3:15 am playin the wheels
morevening kris.
Soup.
I lik£, totally lik£, always look lik£, so cut£ in lik£, £v£ry photo, lik£, OMG!! Lik£, LOL!!<3 Lik£, r£mind£r that lik£, JILARVA£ ch£ki is lik£, totally lik£, availabl£ at lik£, any of our lik£, shows for lik£, only lik£, 10 ca£g£rs!!! <3 ;D https://cdn.imgch£st.com/fil£s/06b47d2afcf9.jpg
[It's a video upload. Lily is standing facing the camera in front of the absolute disaster that is her office/lab. She's wearing the same uniform from her headshot, and her eyebags are extremely visible.] [She clears her throat.] "My name is Lily Green, I head up the biomancy team here at Clockwork. This is a public demonstration of something I've been working on." "When you think of the natural advantages of god tiers, what's the first thing that comes to mind? Conditional immortality. The fact that they're immune to dying in ways arbitrarily deemed 'narratively unsatisfying.' There's two ways to level the playing field here. Clockwork has already demonstrated god-tier-cancelling effects in a live combat setting. But the other thing you can do..." [Lily uncaptchas a cylindrical object with a few exposed PCBs on the outside. She straps a sensor to her arm and attaches it to a port on the cylinder.] "Now, I do believe an ex-coworker of mine had a suggestion for me, hm? Something along the lines of 'cull yourself'?" [She grins ear to ear. Her expression is very much that of someone who hasn't gotten much sleep in a while.] "What do you say I give them what they want, hm?" [She uncaptchas a blade, takes a deep breath,] "KALNIA-SAMA THIS IS FOR YOU--!" [and slashes her own throat. She crumples to the floor, blood pools out of the wound, and the camera is treated to a full view of her body shutting down in real time -- upon which an indicator LED on the side of the cylinder flashes, and it suddenly discharges, glowing pale green as Lily's throat knits itself back together. Her eyes refocus, she blinks a few times, and she shakily stands back up, absolutely beaming.] "Fahaha, you see that? I'm not a god tier, and I didn't use my own Life powers at all just now! It's powered by pure, simple nuclear fusion! What you just saw is a mechanism that CONVERTS electricity into Life!! You don't need a god on standby to resurrect people, anyone anywhere can automate the revival process!! And of course why stop at immortality when you could use this for regenerative armor, geoengineering, giving your enemies cancer, anything that a Life player can do we can reverse-engineer for our applications! The possibilities are endless!! The future is ours!!" [The video cuts off here.]
<action; statement input; statement: maybe there is a |esson you can |earn here about not being awfu| />
ouppy clips compilation #413
>=>}Todays Message Of Today... Women That Is All -9-
im mf ouppy
hell fuckin yeah dude
its a terrible night to be uncursed.
> "ah ye2, fre2h ga2ol1ne made from the 2oul2 of the damned" - me (GregTech new Hor1zon2) <
--E√ Only in modded Maulcraft is "My signal frequency is lever/cod" a normal staʇement.
/.sudden.influx.of.official.content.for.metal.sonic.\ \.this.might.be.the.best.night.ever./ /.only.to.be.topped.when.the.rest.of.his.shit.comes.out.\ \.you.humans.need.to.work.towards.him.faster./
they've got allen wrenches, gerbil feeders, toilet seats, electric heaters trash compactors, juice extractor, shower rods, and water meters walkie-talkies, copper wires safety goggles, radial tires bb pellets, rubber mallets, fans and dehumidifiers picture hangers, paper cutters, waffle irons, window shutters paint removers, window louvres, masking tape and plastic gutters kitchen faucets, folding tables, weather stripping, jumper cables hooks and tackle, grout and spackle, power foggers, spoons and ladles pesticides for fumigation, high-performance lubrication metal roofing, water proofing, multi-purpose insulation air compressors, brass connectors, wrecking chisels, smoke detectors tire guages, hamster cages, thermostats, and bug deflectors trailer hitch demagnetizers, automatic circumcisers tennis rackets, angle brackets, duracells and energizers soffit panels, circuit brakers, vacuum cleaners, coffee makers calculators, generators, matching salt and pepper shakers #lyricposting #yovaha #smellslikedickfourinhere @
uuses my p0wers (hannds) t0 tilt y0uur screenn very slightly.
Rise up. You got this. Kick fate in the bulge. Believe in yourself and you can make the impossible happen.
Thanks, Kris.
[/-∊n♱rΩpy gr-∊yƗng Ωu♱./] -- yΩu |⟨nΩ屮 mȺyb-∊ Ɨ♱ dƗd fΩr Ⱥ gΩΩd r-∊ȺΣΩn. -- [/ΣȺmΣȺrȺ'Σ Σ屮ȺnΣΩng./]
helping clockwork with a blood aspect thing so they dont like. kidnap and torture a vantas or something. not on their side ok
feheheheh
Sort of? Let's go hang out at the diner or something so we can talk about it more.
One thousand Kris barrage
understandable. i often also have morbid curiosity about the game.
Not sure what the on-site record is, but I'm pretty sure I've heard of 48-player sessions. Successful ones, even, somehow.
that Casspeer feella'ss run had likee ssomeewheeree around about 28 peeoplee?
i had a bad day so i get to eat a hedgehog cakepop
HALF OF THE SITE ISN'T ON THE SITE WE'RE ALL JUST BLOCKING THE FEED. -YALDABAOTH
Crucible has a pizza to deliver, I see
Q36: "Name everyone on the site you’re into now!" (anonymous "Anonymis") A36: i feel like if i did that then several of them would deem me as parasocial and hate me, but given this is the only new ask submitted, i will humor it partly- by instead naming everyone i find even remotely physically attractive, off the top of my head, rather than any particular feelings i feel for any given individual, such that the vast majority on the list will never know if the attraction is anything more. unless i guess they ask. for the vast majority of them though, it isnt anything more. deva. nepeta. dean dracon. jinx. bec noir. calamity. calliope. calderus. caliborn. lord english. sylink. roro. jill. petroa. karama. ciel. haruko. the kharnate. angstrom. laika. curree. hephaestus. chuimi. karkat. rose. kris (not that one). kris (that one). noelle. dess. zeke. karma and myself (perhaps a bit narcissistic. ashven. jade. roxy. meenah. jake. florid. evidet. fours. casper. dirk. that one pathetic dave. kurloz hobbes. carol. sara. nyrita. rorian. mike. cami. daraya (who doesnt?). cara. bug. rosesprite. kankri. jade alaxensis. jasmine. aradia. ruby. dagger. xennox. mistress frame. vestra. feel free to pick yourself out and ask, or dont i dont care.
*「 don’t be sad. fight. do spin attacks and bite people. 」
fuck you
// btw. me switching between accounts right now https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/e60f4e6e08bb.jpeg
I ReScind my p★ST Ab★uT neveR h★STing An★TheR SeSSi★n, I will be d★ing iT AgAin ★uT ★f SpiTe
takin commfishions you give me 500 currency and i go get a burger and pocket tha rest
skin colours finally fully back. new casual outfit. alchemized it from my previous casual outfit and my masquerade one. the sword is my soul, by the way.
Ask them t☘︎ play w☘︎nderwall a 4th time
#yearningstill
prꙮ tip: anytime sꙮmeꙮne annꙮys yꙮu, tell them they're fake and sꙮme sꙮrt ꙮf allegꙮry. - The Non-Mystical Regular Guy Man
ive wanted to go back for a while. and it reminds me of christmas colours.
The whole feed is just slithering with Amporas is like a personal sort of hell of cigarette smoke and pomade. Eugh.
(( shrug, i mean im glad that ignore all is there now at least, honestly i should be using that more lol
It has been told to me that it is unfair that I speak to and about Alternia without offering you lot any insight into myself. I suppose it is time that I engage in such radical behavior. Although I come from no creed that could possibly be considered a species, despite the innumerable doppelgangers you may know in regard to me, I am still aware and capable of having the semblance of a culture. I will now inform you that I possess a peculiar system of categorizing bonds. It is not too dissimilar to the idea of Quadrants that I had imposed upon Alternia, and had subsequently affected the Carapacians. This method is known as my Pocket System. It is not romance. I am incapable of such warm emotions as love, or true fondness. Rather, it is your relationship adjacent to me in a functional sense. This is accommodation through classification. There are six pockets. There are fifteen numbered balls. Individuals may occupy the same pocket where appropriate, though solids and stripes are never permitted to coexist within one. The distinction is important. Solids denote those upon whom I exert the greater influence. Stripes denote those whose presence requires a degree of accommodation on my part. The number is the indicator of the severity of that imbalance. Higher numbers place the advantage more firmly with me. Lower numbers indicate a greater willingness, on my part, to permit the individual to dictate the terms of our interaction. The eight-ball, naturally, is an exception. And before some particularly pedantic human attempts to inform me that this does not correspond precisely with the numbering of a regulation billiards set, I assure you that I am aware. I am describing an interpersonal metaphysical framework. I am not beholden to the manufacturing specifications of your sporting goods industry. You have quadrants. Humans have constructed an exhausting assortment of labels for essentially the same purpose. I have billiards. Mine happens to be the most elegant. I should also clarify that occupying a pocket does not mean I am "dating" someone, "in love" with them, "crushing" on them, "pining" after them, or any of the other juvenile descriptions I have seen applied to the matter. I cannot feel romance. I cannot feel love. I do not possess some secret reservoir of tenderness which merely requires the correct person to pry open. There is no tragically neglected little organ beneath my waistcoat waiting to discover that, against all odds, I was capable of affection all along. How embarrassing that would be. What I possess is purpose. There are things which must occur. There are conditions which must be satisfied. There are individuals whose continued presence, cooperation, obedience, opposition, survival, suffering, development, or simple proximity contributes to those outcomes. Occasionally, one such individual becomes unusually compelling. I may wish to speak with them more often. I may prefer their company to that of others. I may arrange circumstances so that our paths continue to intersect. I may become irritated when someone interferes with them. I may devote a disproportionate amount of thought to predicting their behavior. I may indulge them in ways that would be strategically unnecessary for anyone else. I may even, under particularly unusual circumstances, alter my own conduct in anticipation of their preferences. None of this is romance. It simply means they have become deeply relevant to my objectives. The fact that an individual may remain deeply relevant after their immediate utility has expired is not evidence to the contrary. It merely suggests that my objectives are more complicated than you understand. The pockets exist because relevance comes in different forms, and because I prefer to know precisely what sort of bond I am dealing with before it has the opportunity to become inconvenient. A table is much easier to manage when every ball has a position, every position has a name, and every possible collision has already been considered. That is all this is. A means of determining where people belong in relation to me. A means of measuring how much influence may safely travel in either direction. A means of distinguishing a useful attachment from a dangerous one. A means of observing when someone has begun occupying rather more space on the table than circumstances reasonably require. You may call that romance if doing so amuses you. You will still be wrong. It is categorization. To dig into this further, I suppose I can elaborate somewhat upon the truest natures of the pockets and the balls. There are six pockets. The first Head Corner is my Instrument. They accomplish something for me. Employees, agents, collaborators, useful obstacles, sources of information, and any individual whose presence serves some identifiable component of my greater architecture may find themselves here. Importantly, developing a preference for an Instrument does not necessarily alter their classification. Enjoying the company of someone who performs useful work is perfectly explicable through utility. There is no need to make it embarrassing. My other Head Corner is my Charge. This is someone for whom I have assumed responsibility. Protection, cultivation, education, maintenance, rehabilitation, custody. A Charge does not necessarily work for me. Indeed, they may accomplish nothing useful whatsoever. The defining element is that I have already determined their continued welfare, development, survival, or proper management to be my concern. The first Foot Corner is Fascination. Somehow, I continue engaging this individual because I find them compelling. Their mind, behavior, contradictions, potential, unpredictable nerves. Perhaps it is none of these things. Perhaps there is simply some quality which continues to reward observation. This bond does not necessarily further my objectives in the strictest possible sense. Although continued observation may, of course, prevent the Fascination from interfering with them. Conveniently. The alternative Foot Corner is my Adversary. A rival. A foe. Competition. An ideological obstruction. Someone whose continued opposition has developed sufficient structure that simply eliminating them would resolve less than continuing the contest. It is perhaps the closest analogue to a kismesis you will find within my system, though naturally without that dreadful affection you insist upon attaching to the concept. The two Side Pockets are Obligation and Indulgence. The first is someone to whom I am bound. A promise, office, cosmic function, debt, contract, prophecy, hierarchy, or inevitability. It is the only pocket in which the continued existence of the bond inherently constrains me as well. I may dislike the arrangement. I may manipulate every available term within it. The fundamental obligation nevertheless remains. The latter is my most dreadfully embarrassing pocket. Indulgence. I have no sufficient strategy in mind for this individual. I simply seek their company for my own selfish purposes. I may make exceptions for them. Grant requests I am under no obligation to grant. Remember little preferences which have no appreciable bearing upon anything important. Arrange circumstances simply because I believe they will enjoy them. Permit interruptions. Encourage their return. I insist that this remains categorization. Now, the balls. The pocket tells me what the bond is. The ball tells me which direction the bond bends. A striped ball indicates that I accommodate the individual. A solid indicates that the individual accommodates me. The farther the number travels from eight, the more severe that arrangement becomes. The first seven are stripes. The 1-ball is Precedence. The individual's wishes take precedence over mine within the scope of our bond. I may interpret their instructions. I may decide how best to execute them. I may even manipulate the circumstances surrounding the decision. But when our intentions genuinely conflict, I yield. The 2-ball is Deference. I ordinarily abide by their decisions. My influence remains considerable, naturally, but I offer counsel rather than command. Their refusal possesses actual finality. The 3-ball is Accommodation. I reorganize myself around them to a meaningful degree. Schedules alter. Methods change. Plans acquire additional considerations. Their comfort, intentions, or preferences become substantial enough to modify my conduct even where modification is not strictly necessary. The 4-ball is Concession. The individual possesses legitimate leverage. Neither of us receives precisely what we want by default. I compromise. They compromise. Their objections can materially alter an outcome. The 5-ball is Consideration. Their opinion carries unusual weight. I remain perfectly capable of ignoring it, but I would prefer not to. Approval, satisfaction, cooperation, or comfort becomes a factor worthy of consideration rather than an incidental benefit. The 6-ball is Allowance. I retain the greater hand in most matters, but I permit liberties from this individual which would become irritating very quickly if attempted by someone else. They may inconvenience me. Contradict me. Distract me. Demand things. Within reason. The 7-ball is Favor. The lightest stripe. I remain unmistakably the controlling presence, but if there is no compelling reason to deny them, I tend to let them have what they want. I believe the human word for this is "being nice." I would prefer you refrain from using it. Then comes the 8-ball. The eight-ball is neither stripe nor solid. It is Impasse. There is no reliable direction of precedence. Authority shifts according to circumstance. Attempts to establish a permanent hierarchy repeatedly fail. I may control one aspect of the bond absolutely while discovering myself hopelessly beholden in another. The relationship cannot be made neat. This is precisely why the eight-ball is dangerous. A properly ordered table is built upon knowing who is striking and who is being moved. The remaining seven balls are solids. The 9-ball is Guidance. The weakest solid. I lead, but lightly. Advice, suggestion, expertise, favorable positioning. The 10-ball is Direction. I establish the general course. The individual may object, negotiate particulars, propose alternatives, or occasionally persuade me toward another method, but there is an understood expectation that I am the one determining where we are going. The 11-ball is Authority. My judgment ordinarily prevails. Resistance is permitted. Debate may even be entertaining. Ultimately, however, I expect my decision to be accepted once I have made it sufficiently clear. The 12-ball is Governance. I actively structure the individual's circumstances. I arrange resources, opportunities, information, environments, and limitations. Their life remains theirs, of course. I simply happen to exercise a substantial amount of influence over what that life is permitted to contain. The 13-ball is Custody. Their autonomy exists within boundaries I establish. They may possess tremendous freedom inside those boundaries, but I consider myself entitled to intervene when they exceed them. Their conduct, safety, usefulness, or development has become something I believe I possess standing to regulate. You may notice some overlap with the Charge pocket here. Do try to keep up. A pocket describes the nature of the bond. A ball describes its balance. A 13-ball Charge and a 13-ball Instrument are very different arrangements. The 14-ball is Command. Obedience is expected. Requests are very often instructions which I have been polite enough to phrase pleasantly. Initiative may be encouraged. Eccentricity may be tolerated. Disagreement may even be useful. But the underlying hierarchy should not require explanation. The 15-ball is Possession. The extreme solid. At this point, I do not merely expect obedience. I consider the definition of the individual's role to be substantially my prerogative. Their purpose, position, acceptable behavior, and relationship to my greater designs are matters over which I exercise overwhelming authority. There are less delicate words for this arrangement. I am choosing not to use them. You may now understand why merely knowing someone's pocket is insufficient. An Instrument may be a 15, a perfectly obedient tool whose purpose I have already decided. An Instrument may also be a 2, which produces the considerably more amusing circumstance of someone ostensibly working toward my objectives while I continually reorganize those objectives according to their judgment. A 14-ball Charge is someone I protect by controlling nearly every variable around them. A 4-ball Charge is someone I have declared myself responsible for and then, rather inconveniently, discovered can tell me how that responsibility will be exercised. A 13-ball Adversary fights me within a contest whose boundaries I control. A 3-ball Adversary has somehow arranged matters so that my opposition to them dictates my own behavior more often than theirs. A 10-ball Indulgence is someone I spoil while maintaining the comfortable fiction that I remain entirely in command of the arrangement. A 5-ball Indulgence is apparently what several of you insist upon calling a "crush." It is not. And a 1-ball Indulgence would describe an individual for whom I repeatedly, voluntarily, and substantially alter my behavior for no sufficient reason beyond the fact that they desired it. Such a classification would be absurd. I am certain no such individual exists. There. I have now exposed more of myself to you than was strictly necessary. And I would appreciate it if you stopped asking whom I am courting. Simply because I do not court. This is not any semblance of romance. It is a one-sided categorization of our impermanent relationships.
blocking isn't enough, i should be able to explode your palmhusk with a thought.
Dream not of a brighter future if you are unwilling to wade in the murk and the mire to do what needs to be done to bring it about. Either put the gun to their heads, or your own.
nope! that'd be a normal dollar used to replace scratch's millionth dollar. and coral blue number 3!
curaaazyyy hamburgor.
Something they don't tell you about trauma is that after being traumatised enough times it starts to get really. Fucking. Annoying. Yes yes I'm shaking and terrified despite absolutely nothing happening, yes I'm reliving the same moment in my head, yes the thought of anyone even coming close to me is making me feel ill, yes my emotional processing feels stunted and everything is like pins and needles in my pan. Can we move on already? Do you mind? Get out. Get the fuck out of my head already. I've done this dance before and it's boring now. LEAVE.
I SHOULD HᐛVE ᐛ GUN
alright, several things out of the way that had to be done. i would say i sent a message to at the very least their closest friends, but its been a while since i was them so maybe i missed someone. in other news, i have a new pfp courtesy of @itsDirk. i like it very much. see attached image. also. i finally figured out my own equivalent for the "paws on my job till im off" in my past selfs bio. "claws at my veins until it rains". i cant bleed, so its more for the aesthetic and the fondness for violence in several aspects, but still. and i guess its kind of for the edgelord aesthetic too, even though by this point most people know ive lost all the edgelord points due to trying to "be a better person". tch.
if you got that dog in you, get it the fuck out!!! it wont survive in there!!!!
habababa.
one hour until #applesliceaffair starts, house party for my friend's and whichever plus-ones they decide to bring anyone who isnt a plus one who doesnt think if themselve's as my friend WILL just get automatically tp'd out. therell be food, weed and alcohol, game's (mmmaybe. couldnt figure out jackbox last night so someone else might have to set it up), and music. designated area's for fighting and fucking and stuff too for if people wanna do that, outta the way so people dont see it
...i should message haru #dashwatching
You're not doing them any favors by denying them the opportunity to love you again
vaguepost man vaguepost man the context in the sand so he stands to not elaborate cuz he can
THERE’S GOTTA BE A BETTER WAY FOR ANCIENT EVILS TO FIND SUCKERS THAN THE SITE WHERE EVERYBODY POSTS THEIR FULL ASS DAILY, RIGHT.
Rexcellent.. (Excellent, also for dragons)
fair, yeah. i mean, the one i know seem's more like a massive cornball than anything. but maybe thats some kind of front. he has some kind of tie's to that demon cat, and something to do with the demon eye that possessed me, then became that knight by possessing the deer girl, and then i guess... possesses me in the future again to become "the darkheart". so maybe i should be less trusting of the guy too
Mediocre, Im gay though so that makes things ever so slightly better.
THIS IS WHAT I WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT EARLIER. YOU CAN’T BE A PLANET KILLER OR WHATEVER WHILE TYPING POSTS ONTO THE INTERNET.
thank's, dreemurr
i think im just gonna cope by. fuckin. whats the word. compartmentalizing? that mf as an entirely separate person from me
alright, do me a solid and vote for bummelBoogie and turntableGlissando. i was gonna rig the vote in the favor of those two, but even voting once for each of 'em was too much. thanks a million, kid.
I had a dream last night where Sandy Squirrel and Miss piggy taught at the same highschool and would constantly get into 50yr old married couple level bickering spots with each other in the teachers lounge. Not saying that someone should write this, but I AM saying there is quite some good enemies-to-lovers Yuri potential here. #Yuri #fanfiction
[WHEN THEYRE MEAN TO PIM ON $MILING FRIEND$...]
I think very few crowds appreciate yourChits if I'm beingRealWithYou
heh, good one.
how to delete someone else's chitt?
inb4 lord english call's this perverse or something
fuckin true that
yeah me and my roommate found it on an old laptop that had mspaintadventures cached so she started archivin it and started the whole mess we in https://mspfa.com/?s=68019&p=1
oh kris thats insane with us, the dynamic duo, being on here this site is already the coolest in all of the world wide web!
crazy how there's no berdly accounts on this site yet. there's an account for pretty much every deltarune character, except for berdly.
#lyricposting :33 < where does a mind like yours wander when its sung to sl33p? :33 < mind the clamours of the restless bidders before you choose to w33p... :33 < and the hound is humming you a lie, a lullaby https://open.spotify.com/track/7K59Lt75PBN9VISevo3eYC?si=xOIs39oYRM-urfPM5xD1lQ&utm_source=copy-link
[now playing:] https://open.spotify.com/track/2ek4dtto17c8svprdgg5i6?si=jvc8afrdsyiynlz3in1vfa&utm_source=copy-link
♡⸝⸝ Duskie FAQ: Q: wha7's your deal? A: over a mon7h n a half ago i escaped 7he place i been imprisoned in for like a few sweeps. big breakou7, lo7sa people go7 ou7. cu7 7o a couple days ago an i find ou7 7here's a boun7y hun7er on my ass @hingedFang if you're curious lol. so he's go7 a lis7 of us escapees and he's comin af7er us or wha7eva. only a ma77er of 7ime afore i ge7 caugh7 bu7 7he big boss don7 kill his lil pe7s so i ain7 gonna die LMAO BU777 7heres no in7erne7 in da basemen7 village so im jus havin fun while i can <3 Q: are you in danger? A: YES and I always will be + I777S FUN so don'7 worry Q: any7hing we can do 7o help? A: prolly no7 Q: are u flir7ing wi7h 7he boun7y hun7er A: yes i7 makes bein chased more fun Q: are you doing all 7his on purpose A: YES i am always doing s7upid shi7 and i7's ALL ON PURPOSE unless i say o7herwise!!! Q: you know if you pos7 your loca7ion he can see i7 righ7? A: HE ALREADY KNOWS MY LOCA777ION DOG IDC Q: are you happy? A: happy enough LMAO Q: why are u so ho7? A: I JUS777 AM <3 If u go7 o7her ques7ions ask em lol. heres my profile piccy in full quali7y lmao ⸝⸝♤
Some Of You Would Benefit From Giving Your Mate A Bundle Of Roses, But The Only Roses Some Of You Are Familiar With Are Of The Toy Variety. There Is No Helping You. #nsfw #nsfc
Great, and we're back to the Caste thing. Never understood why exactly the discrimination on the blood colors ever formed in the first place, then again humans have done the same with other aspects of people so I guess not exactly one to judge. My two cents on the matter is, don't discriminate based off things outside of people's control. Don't discriminate in general is what I would say but for all you pea brained infants on here we have to start somewhere don't we?
arf, perhap's
Glad I don't live there.
Real talk, I don't think it's possible to call choices you made that define who you are now as being mistakes or not. I don't have the specific context of which of the dozen different things one of you could mean by freedom you're talking about, but like. You're not the Kris who made the opposite choice so there's no point in litigating whether you should have, you know? Your life is still going to keep happening anyway, whether or not it sucks marginally more or less. Admittedly this is partially the perspective of someone who interacts with the people with a morbillion alts a lot, in particular the Harleys. And also the perspective of someone who spent her entire childhood stuck by force of prophecy in a life she hated in a shitty small town, so the main thing I have to regret is whether it would be even POSSIBLE to have gotten out earlier. Things might look different on the ground when there's only two of you, but that's how I see it, anyway. ······································································ #mood: Tired #nowplaying: Suzumura Ken'ichi - With Broken Wings
people here need to be more whiimssiicaal cheer up daawg
The Average Lifespan Of Trolls Is Dramatically Lowered By Rampant Culling, But Even Then It Is Still Usually A Few Hundred Sweeps. Do Humans Know How Long Trolls Can Live? There Are Trolls Alive Today That Were Alive When The Signless Was Alive. Before That, Even.
IIf you ever ssee aa biitch wiith whiite or red laadder-laaced laacess on theiir bootss` RUN▪︎ Esspeciiaally iif they aare aa hiighblood▪︎ #iiykyk
it’s (alled soup be(ause when 7ou eat it 7ou’re so up
weed my one true love #substance
fucked up in the crib...
🤝
d/dx [ Look. ! smoke as much as the next guy. However, can we not do that in a communal fucking office space? ∫ome of us are trying to get work done here and it's distracting my non-smoking coworkers. #vagueposting #butalsoreportedtohr #becausefuckthatguyinparticular ]
Hehe, I have more snail jokes for you all! Ahem! How do snails celebrate? They always shell-ebrate with style! Why do snails love reading? They prefer slow-paced novels. How do snails get around town? They use snail transportation, of course!
That's okay! You're still my kid even if you're not exactly my Kris.
You'll always be my lil' sib even if we're not from the same timeline, hope you're doing well.
𓂃ֶָ֢ 🐁🐁🐁🐁 HTTPS://FILWES.CATBOX.MOWE/LNVYZWE.JPG
HAPPY 7 GRAND DAD DAY
What color are my eyes?
another failing of the system. more evidence to dismantle it.
Problem★tic ★ur★ g★p
beam and (heese burrito
At the beam attack factory, guy asks me if he can fuck the beams. Buddy, they won't even let ME fuck the beams. #nsfw