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#peter englert
rej11 · 3 months
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morvarin · 3 months
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there are no words in this world to describe how much i love and miss him
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athenascrime · 2 months
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Detailed showcase of Peter Englert's apartment
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klentupo · 8 months
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I feel like a monster
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satellitesketchbook · 2 months
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I swear, the more theories I read on here the more my delusion is set in stone
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virgil-630 · 9 months
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T. W. Guts!
When it all comes down
What will be the cost?
Cold hard grounds is refuge for the lost
Feed the flies, stave the hunger off
Breathe out lies, expel them with a cough
You'll never keep me safe from harm
The hurt just keeps on coming on
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astrandofgold · 1 year
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oh eyes like wildflowers
oh with your demons of change
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avalon-of-babylon · 2 months
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By far my favorite thing about Higgs is that there's a very good chance his ass has been dressing like that for years. Imagine being Fragile, you have a meeting with another porter who's apparently really good and everyone loves when this weird ass man shows up and at this point he's not insane
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artiiinae · 9 months
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𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵.
𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘰𝘩.
𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝙄 𝙖𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚.
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rej11 · 3 months
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morvarin · 19 days
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metamorphosis
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meusamatus · 23 days
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Do you think Peter was part of Coffin's extremist group at the same time as Coffin was raising the BB girl she rescued?
Do you think he was the one who had to carry that little girl to the incinerator once she passed away?
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klentupo · 10 months
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……I can feel myself rot, Sam
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satellitesketchbook · 21 days
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A close up of Higgs because 😭😭 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH
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savage-rhi · 2 months
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*yeets this at the Higgs Hoes*
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astrandofgold · 1 month
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The way he looks at her, with admiration burning in his blue eyes, it’s enough to send the world spinning. The way his kohl-lined eyes crinkle as he smiles when she speaks, the briefest touch of a slender hand against his shoulder. The feeling of being unseen in the meeting room with fellow porters, the gnawing, burning nausea when his eyes look over you with indifference. It’s so much. It’s too much.
You stand up, or maybe you were always standing, the ground rushes away from you either way, and you mumble out a quick apology to Fragile, your eyes never leaving the floor, and you rush out of the room. Down a hallway, around the corner, until you collapse on the floor, back against the cold metal wall. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
You wanted so much more, you wanted more than casual quips as you collected your orders, more than the occasional status calls on your cuff link, smoky voice lingering in your mind long after he hung up. You wanted more than the desolate nights in a random safe house while he slept elsewhere-in her bed?-you wanted him to see you. You wanted him to look at you with those blue eyes in a way that he didn’t look at everyone else with.
Maybe it was time to move on, you had heard Bridges was scouting out some of the talent at Fragile Express. Maybe you could start over, move away. The thought was like a cold shard to your core, never seeing him again. But this, this wasn’t sustainable. You didn’t dare think that some day he might suddenly notice you. That was too much to hope for.
You didn’t dare hold your breath with anticipation to see who belonged to the set of footprints echoing down the hall. You knew it would never be his. And yet, you know that pattern, that long stride, steps that were normally relaxed were now striking off the walls, a staccato down the hall. And it was his voice, worried and stricken with fear, calling out your name. It was him.
It was him.
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