cannibaldowntown

[cannibaldowntown]

i Imagine texting Lawrence n asking him for a selfie …. he would be too self-conscious and just ignore the request. but after pestering him for a bit, he’d begrudgingly comply.. he would take several different photos, attempting to look less pathetic but end up disliking all of them, thinking “ugh … s-she’ll hate these. I’m n-not handsome…” finally hesitantly sending one before putting his phone back down in shame , too nervous to look at the reply

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Arts :@jope0o || Momokarun 👓🍑

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A couple years ago, my family (Me, my mother, and my cat) over the summer got the wonderful experience of somehow contracting a lovely species called bed bugs.

While very lucky to be dealing with it outside of school hours, it was horrific regardless. Everytime something happens to me I always think, "Well, at least it isn't bed bugs."

In this time, though, of laying on my plastic wrapped bed that stuck to my sweaty summer skin, I turned back to Popee the Performer for entertainment. Perhaps there is some psychological reason for that, especially considering I followed this up with playing BTD for the first time, but that's not the point.

I went through many Popee sprouts, I even wrote fanfiction for it when I was probably around 11 years old. The sprouts happens every now and then still, obviously. It's like a hyperfixation booty call I guess. Through this yearly re-emergence, I discovered other Ryuji Matsuda projects. One in particular, Funny Pets.

That fffucking show. I can't stand it now, I can't watch it because every time I hear it start up it's like getting slammed in the face with a hammer that takes me right back.

It's hit me, then suddenly I'm under the only blanket I was allowed to have, with my one pillow I was also allowed to have, in my room stripped bare. The plastic is sticking to me, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I can smell it, but it doesn't stand out cause it's been there for months. It crinkles as I move, it presses to my face, it practically is my own being as that's where I spend all my time that summer. In that damn bed, watching that show.

And yet the memory smells like my old friends trailer. It's strange.

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CHAT. CHAT POPEE THE PERFORMER MERCH IN 2025 FOR THE 25TH ANNIVERSARY. POPEE THE PERFORMER MERCH OFFICIAL. NEW BRAND NEW. YOU'RE KIDDING ME.

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Catboy lawrence

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grief

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There's no intro post on this blog I just realized

Uhhh basically this is my sideblog where I get wacky and looney. I can't keep a journal for the life of me so it doubles as my diary. You'll quickly learn I am manic with the epic highs and lows of my vague posts

I don't USUALLY tag my posts with TW's unless I feel that it's 100% necessary.

I repost pretty bloody images/gore (if you can call it that) at times, as well as suggestive material so please do not follow if you cannot handle that. I don't particularly tend to censor myself at all, this is my page I'll say whatever I want

Treat my account like you would a dead dove do not eat fic. If you can't handle it, don't eat it! The sign is right here because I do not wish to cause anyway distress or harm over a post. Take care of yourself people

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"Anti kink this" "Anti kink that" my brother in Christ you are so obsessed with what people are doing in the bedroom it comes off as voyeurism

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Francine moments

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i hate it when i call a character adorable and someone says something like it’s going to change my mind “uhhmm Lawrence fucks dead bodies btw ✨” yup and i get hot n bothered thinking about it. what now

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SAVE ME AUGUST UNDERGROUND PENANCE SAVE ME

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Quick reminder that it's always morally correct to punch nazis.