#this is nothing sorry
Text
why so flaccid? -the jacker
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
wizard drake you used to call me on your spell phone
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
taggy trying to flirt with naily: heyy girl are you worth $0 because you're priceless *sprays breath freshener directly into their own eyes*
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
@thinkingabout-girls heeeey pspspspspspsps
tw: second person, implied suicide, lots of crying. oli orionsound but more dramatic than silly. takes place in his "i joined empires smp" video. u know the one.
also loosely based off of this art
//
The world is not the same as you left it.
It's hard to think. You get lost in your own mind far more than you'd ever admit, but it's hard not to when you're the only one left.
When did you last see them? Their homes are empty. Shelves and trinkets gather dust, stores of food go uneaten. Your new powers are unfamiliar and unappreciated.
Where did they go? Felled by monsters, by stupidity- you can see traces of their demise everywhere you look.
(Your own demise was an accident.)
(Mostly.)
(You miss being enderian, is all.)
(Eventually you have to settle for something- something that'll get you there. To heaven.)
Your wings are too small to provide you any semblance of safety. You know he's up here, you watched him leave, you sang to him as he was leaving. He's up here, you know he is, (he has to be), your wings buzz faster than they've ever buzzed before and you rise to the heavens just as he did months ago.
For hours, there is nothing. Only the sun, a white-hot brand at your back. Your wings burn, your heart thuds at your ribs, your hands, your feet, your head. Every breath is too little, a gasp, a wheeze. It's so cold up here, but you're burning-
What if I'm like Icarus? you wonder as a storm begins to brew-
(And you are.)
//
When you come to, you're face-down in the mud.
You sit up slowly, bracing yourself on trembling arms, falling forward again and again as your palms find no purchase on the slick surface of the puddle.
You're still burning. Your head pounds as you finally manage to push yourself upright, settled on your knees. Each blink is harder than the last.
It's so bright here. Your eyes burn, your back burns, and you burn, and burn, and burn-
(Your wings are feathered. You don't know how that happened. They're caked in mud, and you are not cleaning it out.)
Is this heaven? You pick up a handful of mud and squish it in the palm of your hand- watching as it crumbles away. You dare to look up, (you're burning, still), and find yourself before a castle of sorts, high in the clouds.
Heaven, then. You push yourself to your feet, wings flapping to keep you balanced. You've made it. He's here. (He has to be.)
"Sausage?" you croak, your voice faded. Your arm flinches upward to block the light as the door opens.
And there she is. The sun herself- the moon, light spilling from her hair, her wings, her eyes. You can't look at her. You try. (You have to.)
"Sausage?" you call, using your arm as a shield, (He's here, he has to be), "I sent- I sent him up here," (it's all your fault), "have you seen him?"
"Yes, yes I know him," there is a smile in her voice, fond and familiar- your heart swells in relief.
"He's-he's a lovely fellow, isn't he?" you laugh, despite yourself, climbing up the steps with tears in your eyes, "can I- can I have him back, please?"
The goddess' smile turns sad. Starlight ripples across her wings, "afraid not, mate. He's sleeping."
"Sleeping, like in a coffin?" you ask, pressing forward, despite the way she burns, "or sleeping as in-"
"Sleeping in a bed," she laughs, her voice sweet as a lullaby, "we have plenty of beds."
Relief swells in your chest again, your voice comes out quieter than you mean to, "can I see him? Please?"
"Alright mate," she smiles, opening the door, "come in."
//
He's here.
He's sleeping.
"Sausage," you whisper, knelt beside his bed, holding his hand, tears rolling gently down your cheeks, "Sausage, please wake up."
He snores. Loudly. It makes you laugh, despite everything, and you lean forward until your forehead is pressed against his and your tears spill onto his face. His hand is warm- (bigger than yours. Your fingers slot together just as you remember, comforting and safe and home-)
There's a gentle hand on your shoulder. You're burning again- even more as you look at her- as her radiance overtakes the room.
"Please," you choke, pulling away, still holding his hand as you sink to your knees beside the bed, "please- please wake him up."
She sits on the bed, above you, runs her fingers through your hair. She smiles again, all gentle concern- her radiance terrifies you- more than choking, more than dying, more than wondering where all of your friends went.
"We need to let him rest, love."
"But there's-" you grasp at the fabric of her skirts, clinging until your knuckles turn white, until your trembling form aches- from the longing, the love- you weren’t built for this. You’ve never been an angel, never met a god, (and she's burning you, and you hold on) "-there's nothing for me down there! They're all gone! They left me! He's all I have!"
Her fingers card gently through your hair as you weep in her lap. It hurts, it hurts, you hold Sausage's hand in your own, and it hurts-
"You could stay here with me?" she offers gently, "and be my new sparring buddy?"
"What, in heaven?" you spit, lifting your head. You squeeze Sausage's hand, "I want to be alive."
"Sausage isn't dead," says the god, the feathers in her wings puffing up, "he's just sleeping."
"Wake him up then! If he's just sleeping, then wake him up!"
She winces, pets your hair, "we have to let him re-"
"No!" you spring to your feet, release his hand and her skirts, furiously wipe the tears off your face, "no! I don't- I don't like this at all! You've done something to him! I need- I can't- I can't stay here, I have to- I have so much left to give!"
You run.
(He can't come with you.)
"Wait! You'll- I think you'd be happy here-! Wait!"
(You'll find a way to fix this.)
You run past sculptures and tapestries and paintings as large as worlds, wings beating behind you.
(You have to.)
You burst out the door with a goddess on your heels, shouting apologies, shouting for you to stay. You leap off her cloud, wings blistering behind you. The ocean glitters beneath you, blurred by your tears. You fly, faster and better, now that you have wings that are built for it-
You fall. You wings melt behind you. And you fall. (You deserve it.)
And you fall.
(Maybe you'll be enderian again.)
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
girlgug thisheherspring? is that what you said your name was bud?
#coping well with junior year coming.#fantasy high#this is nothing sorry#fh#i tried like ten jokes with his last name none of them worked. you guys get this instead
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
my feminist greek myth retelling where a woman named sharon ferries you across the river styx
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
understand here☝️in the car crash? understand in the car crash
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
is that a geiger counter in your pocket or is your penis so so scared and detecting unsafe levels of radiation
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Prompt: “would you like a hug?”
“Would you like a hug?”
Clint was startled into a laugh, and while he was scrubbing a hand over his face Bucky Barnes - tough guy Barnes, rumoured to carry a knife Barnes, kicked the ass of anyone who looked at Steve Rogers wrong Bucky Barnes - sat down next to him on the bleachers.
Clint looked sidelong at him. Barnes didn’t look back, staring out over the dusty track and hunching deeper into his hooded sweater like it wasn’t a million degrees out, but he gave a sideways sort of shrug.
“You got that look.”
“Like I need a hug?” Clint couldn’t help the incredulous note that’d crept into his voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he - what would that even look like, on him?
Barnes settled back against the cracked plastic back of the seat and looked at him, a slow once-over from grey eyes that always looked like they saw too much.
“Might be biased,” he said, the corner of his mouth crooking up a little, wry but kinda hopeful all at once. “You always look that way to me.”
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
my girl is like a car crash and brother i’m understanding
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
itd be cool if charles was a wizard
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
it is pride month orpheus you know what that means. what do you want us to have like. gay sex. wait that makes sense actually
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
letting the days skip by... letting the loafer hold me down
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yeah I made your boyfriend the antichrist of my apocalypse. Yeah sorry he’s gonna have god like powers now and use them to his whims sorry oh you’re into that? Shit. I mean that’s great!!! Happy for you really :) really wish I still had MY weird boyfriend but can’t win them all haha
Get out of my office
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
10 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lifestr3am
at the bottom
after-nine-at-the-oasis
it's after nine
nnightray
세븐틴
akpop-fanfan
k-pop fanfan
lil-demi-boy
#1 asdfmovie fan