Womp Womp! - Tumblr Posts
Unfortunately, I was born a thought daughter and life has turned me into a thot daughter.
Honestly yeah
@sorenissuffering this is what I will put on your grave your welcome đ
rip regulus black you wouldâve loved saying âwomp wompâ
i was gonna draw something but i lost motivation then forgot what i was gonna draw
womp womp
errrrr this is an alt acc to Molten Lavair so ye (low baller pfp made by me) even tho its a sub badge on my twitch- anyways he/they i am 18 now this is fine errr yea i like toontown corporate clash cogs LANDON LANDON LANDON FUCK AAAAA HE CUTE *explodes* HUNTER HUNTER HUNTER GRGRGRGR <3 counter: 401 that was me fan boying abt landon orden and Hunter Fortune from @creator-indy errr PIPIS
Jason and Piper = A lesbian and a gay man in a relationship for no reason
Reblog if you think itâs okay to platonically say âI Love Youâ to your friends
Fuck your Roman Empire.
What do you think about when youâre on the toilet?
POV you accidentally drew one of the best pieces of art youâve ever drawn for a class projectđ« :
And before ANYONE asks, itâs a guy! (Iâm not good at drawing men okayđ„Č)
Can't find you on insta
womp womp
Hey!
reminder to check up on your friends
reminder to get help if that one suicidal person suddenly acts happy all of a sudden with no explanation
reminder that you are worthy of love and to not let people tell you otherwise
reminder to drink some water today
and last of all, bite people who try to tell you you aren't valid :)
this badge isn't for everyone
bridgerton fans when the show has more than one plotline
Ive just kind of been in the mood to draw gravity falls stuff lol
(This took way too long to do lol)
Snow Cones
Perfection meets Perfectionist #5 | copyright to saturnfairycat
Author's note: this one is definitely heavy. and VERY taken out of context, it is a continuation of the current storyplot, but just very well ahead into the story. enjoy!
Snow Cones
----------------------
It was 2 am, when I heard you scream.
I could tell that it was from the top of your lungs. As if all the rage and frustration finally let itself free from years of resentment.
My body shook to the core, the feeling of my hairs standing up at the back of my neck made my blood turn cold. I was beyond afraid, but the thought of you in danger wasn't the only thing that came across my mind. There was a hint of insanity in your shriek, the echo afterwards screamed "revenge". Legs shaking, weak to the bone-- it took a lot to get me to move.
Will I be able to save you? Was the question. Will I be able to stop you? Was the answer.
If you continuously smash against a mirror, cracking it to pieces⊠at what point, do you stop? At what point, do you apologise and mend your wounds? If all the reflections were painted red, what's the difference in living now than being in hell? Your hatred can be smelt miles away. The crunching noise of your shoes under sharded glass as you kick and fling your arms to the ground with rage. The odd placements of hair was soaking under the blood that poured from your scraped skin. The skin on your arms was like a cracked mirror, in sections of shards threatening to break off completely. You yelled as you flung yourself on your knees, your eyes squinted as you winced at the cuts and impalement-- but still determined and blinded as you throw your hands up to the heavens. You looked down before you, at the frame of which held a quarter worth of what was left from destruction, hands clenching to one big, tight fist.
If a prayer wasn't suppose to be passive, this was the best demonstration I have ever seen. I could barely move. You were in a completely different world, and it felt as if I was just watching through a window, like some sort of sick movie. Do I have to smash through windows to reach you, too? I try to take a step forward, fighting with my voice as I briefly let out a peep of sound. Nothing was heard from you, I bet not even the sound of your heart banging on your rib cage could be acknowledged by you. Will I be able to stop you? The answer was also a question.
You closed your eyes for a brief moment, as you let your fist ride the heavens down to earth, gaining purposeful speed as you opened your eyes. The crashing sound of flesh and bone against glass was sickening, like listening to a bone saw cutting through someone's skull. There was a moment of silence. Where you stayed still. It appeared that you were enjoying the quiet, or perhaps, the sound of more blood gushing out of yourself.
It was the perfect time for me to move.
But how can I? When I have been watching this whole time? How could I find the audacity to save you now, when I couldn't even stop you?
Then there was a sound. Not a very loud one, but it grew in intensity as you threw your head back to the starry night. You laughed as bloody tears poured down your face, as a pool of your own blood surrounded you like a ritual circle. You laughed even when your voice cracked, you laughed even when you saw me. What was the look you gave me as you laughed at my face?
"Pathetic."
You eventually stop laughing. Your face turns cold as you continue to stare at me.
"Leave, February." I step a step back on instinct, the shock of your seemingly normal voice made my finger tips feel like ice. "I said go." I look with desperation in your eyes, they appear⊠normal. Have you realised I was here the whole time? Just⊠watching? Words finally escape my throat. "Etta, please-".
"I said leave, February. You saved me once, and I am thankful. But you can't save me for the second time, so just let me go."
I love you. And for the longest time I did not know whether it was platonic⊠or, something more. The conflict of the choices-- legally, I can't just let you be. But in terms of bonds, this is probably aligned for us at the get-go. The feeling I felt when I was around you, like I was able to help-- like I made a difference in your life and you felt the difference. If the effort and time I spent was really worth it, then how come it all came down to this? Haven't I given enough? All this time, when I thought I was being selfless-- have I truly been selfish?
"Etta, look⊠I. I don't know how to convince you to let me stay by your side. H-however, I do know that we're in our twenties. We're p-proper adults! We can make heart shaped pizzas around this time of night when we have watched too many movies, or eat snow cones earlier than we usually do-- or buy all the available awful muffins you like at the cafe. We can go climb snowy mountains or attempt to find Atlantis. We're not 17 anymore, we can do anything we want by our comfort levelsâŠ. a-and, I can't do all of this if you bleed out slowly, in the front of the abandoned building behind our apartment complex. I cannot fix you. But I can convince you to do it yourself."
I have managed to walk slowly towards you while I blurted out sentences from the back of my mind. My eyes hovering above yours as tears drop down to meet yours on your bloody cheeks.
"Just let me in that big broken mind of yours, and I promise it will get better." I cup their cheek slightly, determined and shaking. You close your eyes for a moment, eyelashes fluttering from my breath blowing onto your face. My heart pounds in my chest as I nervously survived through the long silence. The longer, the better. I swore I heard sirens in the distance approaching, though it is too soon for that just yet. I called as soon as you left my apartment, because the deranged look in your eyes made me think of death himself. I just need to stall as long as possible. I may not be able to stop you, but I can still answer a question whose answer is also a question.
"Alright." Your eyes met mine once more. The look behind your eyes was good enough for me to stand back and sigh with relief. I turn around for a second, avoiding to grit my teeth in front of you as I fought back tears. I may be selfish, but it is love's doing. I heard scraping noises behind me, in which made me smile because it sounds like you were slowly standing up. One baby step at a time, darl.
"You know how we always have snow cones on your birthday?"
I turn around as I hummed my answer, in which I forcefully stop as I gasp in horror. You have scraped all the small broken glass from the concrete, and cupped it in your sore hands levelled to your mouth.
"Looks like your birthday has come sooner than expected."
When you move to a new school the millisecond you started adjusting to your old one and now you have to start over:
IM MUNCHING ON THE BARS OF MY CAGE WHY ISN'T HE REAL AHHHHHHHHHH
screaming crying sobbing throwing up kicking my feet