"long story short we fucked on a park bench"

a girl at walmart


I kind of like this, but not really. To be honest I think I just look too tired.

I kind of like this, but not really. To be honest I think I just look too tired.

today was just so

today was just so

  • *at the international airport*
  • lady: whats with the intercom lady saying everything in english and then in like 5 other languages after?!? >:(
  • me: you do realize this is an international airport right?
  • lady:
  • me:
  • lady:
  • me: *walks away*

Why so glum, chum?

you don’t need to cross your arms

nobody’s trying to steal your nipples.

The Medic

she walked across the vast snow covered field as the snow fell soundlessly, feeling small and vulnerable, as she usually did- a simple medic she was, with no gun or weapon. she is dressed in a dirt-brown woolen hat, gloves, and an old, ratty jacket that looked at least 3 sizes too big, as it extended far below her thigh, almost to her kneecaps. the sleeves had to be rolled up quite a few times, just so that her hands were visible, and able to be used quickly. just below the hem of her jacket, you could just see the frayed threads of a blue skirt, and black stockings. She walked briskly, but cautiously, her blue eyes darting from side to side with accute alertness, hyper-aware of every snap and crackle her boots made as they crunched into unseen twigs and rocks beneath the deepening layers of winter snow.

 all she could hear was the sound of her shallow, frozen breaths, and the hardened snow crunching below her feet. there was a faint whistle of wind as it blew through the circle of forest surrounding the clearing, and a cold shill shuddered through her body. she looked up and saw a small shredded ribbon of red tape warped hastily around one of  the branches of a tree just ahead, signaling the path to the safety of the fort. she breathed a relieved sigh and held her med kit close to her and trudges on, not daring look back, for fear of catching a fleeting glance of one of them.

she knows she’s close to the safety of the trees, and yet every step seems to take her further away from the path. Suddenly there is a change. Something has shifted, something has moved. A person. she slows her pace and listens carefully, trying to control her breathing-to keep it steady and consistent- and resist the urge to bolt for the woods. A snap of a twig. Not too far behind her. She tries to remain calm, steady her breathing, but the small crunches of footsteps draw steadily nearer, gaining slight speed, like a cat stalking it’s unwitting prey. 

Only a few more yards to the woods. A few more steps to safety.

She realizes her breath had gone ragged and strained, and she began to panic, sure that whoever it was who was behind her had heard her shallow, terrified breathing and had sensed her fear and weakness. She breathed in sharply just as the person pressed something cold and metal to the back of her head. A gun.

  • *bumps into table*
  • me: "Sorry"
  • table: