Helluwu She/her, weird, writer, poet, and an animation student irl So basically this page is full of original writing and art, and any other thing I find fascinating while floating around this hellsite.It’s a mess, so tread carefully wuw Check out the tags #midnight writes for original written content and #witchhourartistdraws for art. *nervous mumbling* I can’t maintain multiple blogs. So I tried.
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You Dont Want People To Leave, Especially If You Feel You Havent Been Given Enough Time With Them. But
You don’t want people to leave, especially if you feel you haven’t been given enough time with them. But they do leave, and their presence ages sweetly, like fine wine. But just how sweet can a frail acquaintance get, until it’s sweet enough to be poison?
-S.G
Excerpts from a story I’m working on
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More Posts from Blackcat-midnight-thatsme
I found new things
New gestures which I adore now.
How sometimes when we look at one another
And We see silhouettes of past memories
Yet still I see you. And you see me.
And therein lies everything.
-S.G
Excerpts from original poetry | From Me To You
I usually don’t answer but oh sweet summer child, welcome to the end depths of the rabbit hole
Hannibal
So I’ve recently joined the Hannibal fandom, just started watching this glorious show, so quick questions for those who have been in the fandom longer then me.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Just for the sake of that roast. Lovely.
call me bi phobic or wuteva but i would never date a bisexual. theyre just gonna cheat smh
Anon, there are approximately 390 billion trees in the Amazon rainforest. These trees vary widely in species and size. The chemical reactions that occur in these trees in order to produce organic compounds and oxygen from carbon dioxide and water are complex and require a constant supply of energy to be generated by the plant. One of these 390 billion trees works hard to replace the oxygen that you breathe. Anon, I want you to find this tree deep in the Amazon rainforest and apologise to it for wasting the oxygen it works so hard to produce.
I’m dying of laughter I can’t
It will be my mission in life to find all the Chris Evans laugh edits and apprehend the crafty son of a bitch that keeps making them.
She handed me the thick rimmed book, with the golden title happiness shining in the light. With a grin she pressed it closer to me, then proceeded to point towards the golden lettering in red background, the biggest of smiles on the face.
I bent forward and pet her hair softly; if only happiness could reach me in the a simple way, I thought, as she looked at me like a lost dog and tried to wipe away my tears.
-SG
Excerpts from an original short story