I'm eating right no, so I'll pass.
art blog(derogatory)
Today's Document

pixel skylines
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Claire Keane
tumblr dot com
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

Kaledo Art
RMH
Three Goblin Art

blake kathryn

shark vs the universe
$LAYYYTER
One Nice Bug Per Day

Janaina Medeiros
i don't do bad sauce passes
AnasAbdin
hello vonnie

Product Placement
wallacepolsom

seen from T1
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Poland
seen from Brazil

seen from Türkiye
seen from Lithuania

seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Greece

seen from United States
seen from Belgium

seen from Argentina

seen from Argentina
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@levonhardy
I'm eating right no, so I'll pass.

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If you're crashing my place to line dance you have to each bring me a pack of menthol cigarettes.
There’s a thick silence in the moments after she confirms your insane suspicions. Your temples roll against your fingertips as you grind your teeth together — what the hell does it mean?
"I dunno, Annie…" Your voice is tired, weaker than the ticking of the clock on the wall. You feel hollowed out and frightened. "I dunno why. I dunno why I thought it would. I dunno what we are."
You’re a monster and you deserved it.
"I dunno—" You begin to move your palms to cover your drooping eyes, but Annie reaches for them, and holds your hand kindly and carefully. You look at her. You could cry.
"I don’t know what to do—"
And then you fold, and you curl over on yourself and bury your forehead into her shoulder. You’ve always been too big and now you want to be too small — you want to disappear from the hospital room and from the remnants of your body, from the incident and all the incidents to come. You close your eyes against Annie’s hoodie and press your thumbs into her palm, focusing on the small sound of her heartbeat and the feeling of her pulse against your temple.
His voice is enough to make your heart break. Seeing tough, smiley, loud Reiner like this makes you want to cry. But you rub his hands with your thumbs, watching them before you glance up to meet his eyes.
"I don't know either, Reiner..." That doesn't help. But you don't know, and you know that both Reiner and yourself are... different. Since you met him, you both clicked right away, it was scary. You've always felt drawn to him in a way you never really understood. Even last Thanksgiving he knew something was up, he knew what you were feeling, unlike everyone else.
What we are.
That phrase lingers in your head. Stuck in there, repeating itself. What exactly are they? Human, yes, definitely. But you think about the nightmares, think about your conformation with Auruo about them... you're a monster in your nightmares. Does Reiner have the same ones...?
"We're... different." You say after a while, quietly, half mumbling into his shoulder. "Very different. But I don't know exactly what we are."
The bigger blond curls himself around you, squeezing his hands lightly before you move to wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. You're quiet, thinking as you hold onto Reiner as if he'll disappear if you let go.
Ymir ruined Uptown Funk for me.
fixed up my theme ;) dont like blingee ;) then dont look ;) lol
Wow.

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Annie grips the handle of the door and you grip the blanket covering your lower half. You wish you hadn’t been under it when she came it — it makes the reveal seem melodramatic where you wanted frankness. You want to get this over with. You don’t want it to happen at all.
"Annie—" You answer; your voice quavers so you shut your mouth and swallow, but there’s relief in it. Real relief. You’ve been more lonely than you thought.
"M’sorry for bein’ vague. That wasn’t fair. I just—" You lift your hand in some kind of ineffectual gesture. How do you even tell her? You look down and your fist falls against your thigh. It hurts.
All at once you shove the blanket away from your legs, as though it had burst into flame. You push it nearly off the bed and tuck your good leg against your chest, toes gripping the sheets. Below the other knee is a bandaged stump: it’s closest to her, you know she can see it. But you’re not looking at her — you’re staring at what isn’t there, thinking about how much your future will change and what the hell happened in your past.
You dig your fingers into your scalp and bark out a desperate sort of choking laugh. “It didn’t grow back—!!”
Closing the door behind you, you step inside, light footsteps as you make your way over to him. He's alive, and that's what's important, but you have a million questions to ask, and you have no idea where to begin. He looks worn out, tired, and that uneasy feeling you have still hasn't gone away. You offer him a small smile when he says your name, hearing the relief, it makes you feel a little bit better, but...
You shake your head, stopping beside the bed. "No, it's fine. I'm just as vague." He knows that all too well, but he's always good at getting information out of her sooner or later if he really tries. You're about to reach for his hand, you want to show that you're here for him and you're not going to press the issue, and he then shoves away the covers.
Glancling over, stopping at the bandaged stump, going cold at you stare. "Why hasn't it grown back--" The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself, and you look at him. You're confused, for multiple reasons now. Limbs don't grow back, you know that. But you think back to every time you were injured in some way; you always expected smoke and for the pain for disappear almost immediately.
You feel like his leg should still be there. It should have grown back. No matter what had happened to him.
Swallowing, you sit yourself down on the edge of the bed, reaching up carefully to take his hands.
That hospital smell always sort of bothered you. You don’t like waiting around under harsh halogens, and you hate the constant bustle of people around you. You hear commotions in the hallway, you hear the steady drone of your television. Your leg itches and you move to scratch it, but it’s not there — and you can’t imagine when you will grow used to that. The bottom half of your leg is gone. You’re not whole.
You roared like a cornered animal when they told you it couldn’t be saved. You thrashed and kicked and swung your fists, and you roared louder because in your idiot rage you jostled your useless splintered leg and the pain was like nothing you’d ever felt. “Wait!" You screamed, because you knew it should start growing back any moment now. You’d see that smoke and you’d be alright, and then your body would be perfect. You’d stand up taller than the buildings and smash them when they tried to hold you down—- — -
You don’t remember much after that. Apparently your parents were phoned. Apparently you’d spoken with them, but you can’t remember what was said. You remember a roaring in your head and strange, gore-splattered sights behind your eyelids…
In any case, you were wrong: your leg didn’t grow back. It’s confusing, but what’s even more baffling is why you were so convinced it was coming back in the first place. You are miserable and confused, and your parents visiting you was only a momentary reprieve; they brought you homecooked stuff and your favorite snacks, and a book you’d asked for specifically.
So you read, moving sporadically to squeeze or scratch a limb that isn’t there. It hurts, sometimes more than you can bear, but they tell you it’ll go away in time. You’re scared of “in time”. There are things you’ll have to deal with that you wish you didn’t.
At the moment, you’re waiting for Annie. They’ll let in more than just your family now, and Annie was the person you needed to see most. You want to see Conny too, you wanna see his thousand watt smile and kiss that laughing mouth, but Annie is privy to things you don’t want Conny to touch. You remember the car, last Thanksgiving: you know that Annie feels the guilt, knows the beast. You can make sense of at least that much. You know that she knows you better than those who raised you.
And so, you wait, cold dread in your chest. You wish she didn’t have to see you like this, you wish nobody would have to see you like this, but you can’t delay the inevitable… You’ll have to face her, Conny, Bertholdt, Ymir… Levi…
Your fingers drum nervously on the steering wheel, cigarette burning in your free hand, glaring at the red light as you wait for it to change. You're so close to the hospital now, but this drive seems to be taking forever; with your mind racing, there's dread that burns in your stomach. Why is Reiner in the hospital? He's alive, and you're relieved at that fact. He's alive, but is he okay? He's messaging you but he's not telling you anything.
It makes you nervous.
Chain smoking the whole drive there, you hit the gas when the light finally turns green; going perhaps a bit over the speed limit as you make your way to the hospital. Pulling in, you ditch the cigarette butt in the ashtray, locking up your truck before you quickly make your way inside; girl on a mission, one track mind. Heading straight to the desk to ask for Reiner Braun's room, once given directions, you give a nod and a quick 'thank you' before heading to the floor he's on.
You maneuver past doctor's and patients, hands balled tightly in your hoodie pocket. You hate hospitals, can't stand them. Being here makes you antsy, but you need to see Reiner. It feels like it's been so long...
Now you're at his door, and you stop. Biting down on your lip, you stare at the handle, heartbeat echoing in your ears, nails digging into your palms. You're scared. Afraid of what you'll see once you open that door, you have no idea what you expect, but you know he's alive, and really... really that's what matters.
After a minute, you take a deep breath before you reach up to knock, "Reiner, it's me." Keeping your voice steady as you grip the handle and open the door, stepping inside.
[ Text: Dollface ] Hey Im in the hospital. Dont worry its okay Im not dead
[ Text: Dollface ] I need you. Im bein selfish and Im sorry but I need you
[ Text ]: The hospital? What?
[ Text ]: Why are you in the hospital, what happened?
[ Text ]: I'm on my way. I'll be there shortly. I'm allowed to see you right? Tell them I'm coming. Please.

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levonhardy replied to your post:Shreks on TV. Feelin pretty good about life right…
Are you feeling like an All Star?
ANNIE KNOWS WHATS UP
I just know you so well.
[ Text ]: Happy birthday. Do I need to free up tomorrow to help take care of you and your possible hangover?
[ text ]: awwwwwwwwwww thanks babygirl //3
[ text ]: YEAH
[ text ]: keep ur plans tentative theres no tellin if, when, or in what state i might show up at ur door at sum point 2nite
[ Text ]: Ooooh, you're welcome.
[ Text ]: Figured.
[ Text ]: Noted. I'll prepare for the worst, in that case. oLo
» makes a face.
"you’re great and all, but … yeah, nah."
> Scrunches nose.
"How about we just continue watching bad movies and not work on making this a three way?"
» smooches annie. because it makes sense.
> Smooches back. Blinks.
"Hm... Nah."

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because we need to know what to do when the birds attack
We're half an hour into the film and the bird have yet to show up.
Sharknado sucked but it was moving faster than this.
BIRDEMIC WITH ANNIE IS A FUCKING TRiP THOUGH
Why are we watching this again?