#just leave him bald

[jingle-jangle-spurs]

Jeannie May Crawford watching the Courier equip Boone’s beret after being asked to stand out by Dinky the T-Rex at 3am

[cherryzombiezz-art]

you guys like this right

[unexpectedbrickattack]

get normaled, idiot

[dandylion-s]

This is a hymn to me. I wish I could kiss you on the lips L Black. I'm sending you my warmest regards across the aether.

[ikram1909]

Gavi went to the sports city today driven by his friends ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[qrevo]

i was thinking on two more fursona designs, and i had this neat little idea of giving each of them an uncharacteristic set of horns/antlers, but a problem has arisen

*cat with deer antlers *racoon with ram horns *deer with ??????

[your-talos-is-problematic]

Beat Baldur’s Gate! It’s amazing how appreciated it makes you feel- catching up with your companions, the letters about side quests, the news articles, having your allies come to support you before the final battle. It’s awesome. Also beat the final boss first try!

[stressedjester]

I just found him walking around unsupervised???? Is this normal??

[seahdalune]

[meowmeowmessi]

chelsea fans moving like true coolers during the burofax drama icl

[vampyroteuthid]

most breakable plant on earth omfg. all i did was brush it with my hand on accident 😐😐😐😐

[muirneach]

rafa is bald as fuck for someone who is only 37

[5arcasmw]

the more i learn about the american revolution the more hamilton: the musical infuriates me

(read tags for context pls i go off on a mega tangent)

[livelaughlovefootball]

don’t mind me, it’s just another eric garcia

[taemin-eternal]

[united-under-skyfall]

growing up in a small town is like. i want to get as far away from here as humanly possible and never look back. i've been sorted into homeroom classes with at least seven of the same kids from kindergarten through graduation and i don't know that we've ever talked longer than five minutes but i'd probably die for them. this would be a nice place to live for the rest of my life, i think. you know everyone in town by their family name even if you don't actually know any of them personally. i'm tired. everyone i know is tired. i hate it here. i never want to leave. we have nothing to do here and the boredom gouges tracks in my brain. i am personally offended by anyone not from here who says there's nothing to do here. everyone here knows too much about me. i know too much about everyone here. how does it feel to start from a blank slate? i would never know. there is a quiet, hidden sort of rage that everyone plants in their gardens. the lemonade at the market tastes like five-year-old laughter, the library smells like paper and the hot chocolate they used to make for events in the basement. the local history room hadn't changed since they installed it because there's nothing else to add, nothing else to know. i am tired. they're developing things and too much is changing too quickly and this has been the same unchanging neighborhood for fifty fucking years and now it's utterly unrecognizable from the place i knew barely a decade ago. i am never sure how much this change is a good thing, how much is too much. it feels like someone is peeling back my wallpaper skin when i'm not looking, painting different shades over what i thought should be there. i'm not the only person in this place but it feels strangely like they should have asked for my permission first, like i am part of its foundation, or maybe it's part of mine. (do we ask the bricks what they want the wall to look like, too?) we all share layers of the same memories that are slowly shifting and eroding, and you can see it everywhere you look, viscerally, physically. i think it is impossible to escape this place unless you are willing to bleed, and make bleed. it would be so, so easy to just disappear. the air feels fresher here than anywhere else, simply because it is the baseline my body has learned and my lungs have loved. i am so very, very tired. i think it's this place. i think i like it. i don't know. i don't know how to be anything else. i learned from brick and mortar, from pavement, from parks; buildings that served my mother as a child, graves no one visits anymore, trees older than my family line; everything sags, the colors washed out. they are tired, too.