Jan 26, 2021
ღ for an affectionate text, ϟ for a drunk text
To: brick wall
– ur reaaaall6 nice!!
– n not scaery like u look
– sory i got makup on ur shirt :((
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ღ for an affectionate text, ϟ for a drunk text
To: brick wall
– ur reaaaall6 nice!!
– n not scaery like u look
– sory i got makup on ur shirt :((
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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@leatherdisaster
Problems at home was an understatement, but he didnt care. It was Mortys birthday and he wanted to get out and he planned on doing everything in his power to do just that.
Jerry was nowhere to be found and his mom was in her usual spot, passed out on her bed. It takes some searching around, but he finds his yellow prize in a loose floorboard near her side of the bed.
By the time Morty shoots the portal gun, Jerry is at the door, confused. Before he could say anything, Morty quickly jumps through, not caring about how much trouble he'd be in.
Without much warning, he happens to land right on top of his alternate with a loud grunt "oof--- h-happy birthday!"
Aftermath of a Pocket Mortys fight :(
leatherdisaster liked your post “1s 1t s4f3 t0 c0m3 0Vt y3t?”
h3ll0 s0n
leatherdisaster replied to your post “PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER TAGGED: @billrick <3<3<3...”
what’s millennial pink?? Cuz I like hot pink n sims is my shit lmao also I didn’t know that was said but eh creators r shit what can u do :p
leatherdisaster replied to your post “PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER TAGGED: @billrick <3<3<3...”
also wow ur shorter than me! Amaze
it’s almost light pink? but it’s kinda peachy this is what google came back with lol
my bedroom is this exact color because I’m a fucking ADULT
wow i accidentally type el’s height i’m actually five foot two but still heckin’ short
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@leatherdisaster A scruffy man exited out of a bakery before closing time, waving off the owner as he passes by the window with a cake in hand. His pace was casual, slow but confident, something you see every day for the working class of his status. Saying hello to anyone passing by; his smile wide and beaming while doing so, but as the people he passed by got less and less, so did his smile. His pace became frantic and hasty, the businessman was late, he needed to meet him. He needed to get the stuff, it’s only been a few days since he had his last fix, but now? It feels like it needs to be a daily fix, sure his family was wondering where he’s going these days. But if he needs to function he gotta meet this being... The man checks his watch, 9:00pm, it’s time and he made it... There, the tall entity in the alleyway sitting on top of the dumpster looking back at the man, expectingly. He walks towards the entity while occasionally looking over his shoulders. “Well, shit, I didn’t think you’d actually come around.~ You even brought cake!” The creature, chimed while sliding off the dumpster and dusting himself off. “Y-Yeah. It’s chocolate-mint cake, I thought-” he stammers while Bor snatches the cake off his hands.
“Oh... Chocolate mint? That shit’s gross, I told ya not to get that stuff.” their mask grimaces while tilting their head to look inside at the cake. “ ‘suppose you don’t really need the juice. That’s good anyway, ya can’t have too much of it in such a short time frame.” “No-no nono!” He frantically looked at his empty hands and back up to the demon. “W-Wait, listen, the shop was closing and it’s all they had man... At least I made the effort of getting it, that should count! Come on, please, just let me in for a small dose...” he begs, “It’s all I ask...”
@leatherdisaster
morticia stood at one of the street corners in morty town anxiously gnawing at her lower lip as she religiously counted the brown bag lunches in the black , plastic , milk crate she cradled in her arms . every once in a while a morty would stop and talk with her for a moment before taking a bag from the crate , peering inside , and then continuing down their path . she would smile kindly and wave them off with genuine well wishes before nervously counting the lunches again like a worried mother hen . often opening the bags to make sure that every lunch had an apple , a pb&j sandwich , a ziplock bag with celery , carrots , and a ranch cup , a juice box of some kind , and a snack cake . she’d take a mental note of everything & relax momentarily until someone approached to take a lunch . . . and then the process would start all over again .
as the artificial sun hung high in the citadel sky morticia was starting to think that maybe she wouldn’t get rid of all the lunches she prepared today , and the thought made her frown . how horrible would it be to throw away a perfectly good lunch when a morty out there could very well be starving ? very horrible , in her opinion . and so , she stayed still and waited way longer than she usually did. her arms ache slightly from holding the milk crate in her arms for the few hours she’s waited there , but she doesn’t put it down . instead she places it under her arm and between her hip so that she could reach her free hand in her yellow , cardigan pocket and run her fingers over the rat sleeping there restlessly . quietly , she scanned the street for someone who could be in need of a meal .
@leatherdisaster
does the kid have a prayer?
He just couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get away. He knew life on the street would be harder than living at home, but it wasn’t something he’d really thought about. All he knew on his way home from school was that he couldn’t go back there again. His parents, or so they called themselves, we’re absolutely unbearable. His ‘mother’, or mommy as she preferred, was a dull and uninteresting woman who doted on her creep of a husband. The only interest of her own she seemed to have was that she’d always wanted a child of her own but couldn’t have one for reasons Kevin wasn’t sure of. She seemed to resent Kevin for this, yet at the same time, tried to win his affection and insisted on the childish nickname and kisses on the cheek.
His ‘father’ was not really a father at all. He treated Kevin more like a pet, observing him as if he were another species, or demanding affection when it was convenient only to him. He would even groom him on occasion, brushing his hair or teeth. Other times he was dismissed entirely. That wasn’t the worst of it, of course. The worst was whenever he was uncooperative, or deemed to be so at least.
He stared at his reflection in a store window. Bringing a hand to his face, he touched his finger tip to the deep purple bruise that covered his left eye and cheek, swirling across his features all the way down to his chin. At least it had served as a reminder to get as far away as he could. One thing he could have done would have been to be a little more resourceful. He left on a whim, he didn’t think anything through. Like how he would eat for example. Lifting his slipping backpack back onto his shoulder, he continued to trudge down the sidewalk. Observing the passerby’s, he wondered if anyone would take pity on him and offer some help. It seemed that would be asking a little too much of these people though. As he scanned through the crowd, he stopped on a couple of kids. Two things caught his eye immediately. One of the boys, he knew. Or at least, he recognized. Someone he’d gone to school with. And in his hands, something Kevin would have just about killed for at the moment. A sandwich. Looking from one side to the other, he slunk his way over, leaning against the bus shack they were all crowded around.
“Hey. Aren’t you Morty? We had class together last year....” He paused briefly, in case there was a reply. “So, where’d you get that?”