Artist/writer/fungi enthusiast
He/they
Making people suffer through late stage terminal cancer, unable to eat properly or swallow, in constant paint and drugged out of their mind, is incredibly fucked up.
Making people suffer through late stage terminal cancer, unable to eat properly or swallow, in constant paint and drugged out of their mind, is incredibly fucked up.
April 15,1947
April 15,1947
Day 1 — Soft dom/ praise
"Fuck, Eddie, please."
Steve’s own voice sounds strange to him, like it’s coming from a distorted tape or an EP played at the wrong speed, all high pitched and whiny. There is sweat pooling on his forehead, he can hear
Day 1 — Soft dom/ praise
"Fuck, Eddie, please."
Steve’s own voice sounds strange to him, like it’s coming from a distorted tape or an EP played at the wrong speed, all high pitched and whiny. There is sweat pooling on his forehead, he can hear
Was a really slow day so I was chilling and chatting with some people by the service desk, and I'm eyeballing this phone on the counter. Has a whole bunch of buttons on it. One says page. I'm thinking "oh, page down" NOPE
Was a really slow day so I was chilling and chatting with some people by the service desk, and I'm eyeballing this phone on the counter. Has a whole bunch of buttons on it. One says page. I'm thinking "oh, page down" NOPE