Picnics
“I will pull this car over right now!”
“Apologising is a sign of weakness”
Blowing dandelions
Swearing in a foreign language
Refund
“Please can I have it? It’s the last one”
Cobwebs
“Just jump! What’s the worst that could happen?”
The final existential crisis
Meet cute
“They think they can just replace me”
The roar of a crowd
Robins
Heirlooms
Claustrophobia
“You haven’t gone outside in weeks” “That’s an exaggeration”
“Not everything has to do with you!”
Companion
Exaggerating
Broken glass
“That could’ve ended really badly”
Salvage
Old drum kits
Anatomy
The smell of sweat
“When was the last time it rained?”
Sinking your fingers into dirt
Shattered sunglasses
An underwhelming haircut
“Believe me, I’m holding myself back right now”
Also see:
May writing challenge 2021
Writing challenge masterlist
Prompts masterlist
I made a shitty meme. Enjoy.
I think Basso is going mad from the amount of cutlery he's supposed to sell.
He didn’t expect this to be his end. Red dotting the ground beneath him as he numbly watches the next drop fall. And the next. And every one after that. Until a glimmering pool has collected in the dust and filth. The torches hung on the wall flicker in the rippling red, reminding him of the way a well-polished ruby would put on a show with only a mere ribbon of light.
He was cocky. Too damn cocky. He should've known. Should've expected it really. As soon as everything starts to go too well, it all comes crashing down again.
But still… he had hoped. Hoped that after all the time, all the effort and the pain and the fear, that he made something of his gutter-born life.
But no- it ends as it begins for him. As a struggle. Strung on a razor wire trap. Body dangling in the metal like a fish on a hook. Only shock keeping him alive.
The ruby red spreads a little further and dancing stars leap across his vision.
He wants to shake off the numbness, the unfeeling, he wants to be angry. All the life he has lived and he wants more. There is still so much life to live and more yet to steal. He wants. And thats killing him more than his broken body.
But now. To put aside all the glisting gems and gleaming gold, he would take back what the Reaper has stolen.
It won’t be long now.
A red threaded smile weakly spreads. It was not a good life per say. But it was interesting. Fun once he found his way. Despite it all, he wont let himself regret a moment.
So let that be that then. He has lived. Now he shall die. Where once red coloured his vision, now only black.
Now.
me: yeah i really like reading fanfiction because the similar characters and tropes are comforting for me
*screams at screen*
*throws phone across the room*
*fills folders with screenshots of the most heartbreaking literature ever written*
*cries violently*
*throws up*
See a lot of whumpees who resent being put on bedrest, who are restless and itching to get back up and get involved again. I need to see more whumpees who welcome the chance to bury their face in their pillow for a good long while
Me trying to leave a comment on a fic I love but not knowing what to say
I like to write fics sometimes. I'm on ao3 too with the same name :)
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