You Know You’re Tired When You Double-misspell Your Own Email To Log Into Tumblr Fucking Hell

I had an idea for a story, here’s the rough draft

The angel fell. She stared up at Heaven and wept. She wept, and saw her tears streaming out above her. She reached out a hand toward the sky, but there was nothing she could do. All the angel could do was stare and weep. She felt something then. She felt the feathers being stripped from her wings. But she did not cry out. She felt her halo shatter into a hundred thousand pieces she felt those pieces sting her eyes and her back and her legs and her everything. But still, she did not cry out. She whispered something. She whispered “Why? What have I done that is so wrong that I have been cast out of Heaven?” The angel felt her wings begin to change and become leathery. She said no. She felt horns begin to push out from her skull and she said no. The angel felt something fade away from the hundred thousand pieces of her halo. It was replaced with something new and gray. She felt her wings break, and she did cry out, for she did not know what it meant. The angel’s wings healed into something new and gray. She felt the feathers grow back, new and gray, just like the rest of her. The angel felt the pieces of her halo pull themselves out of wherever they were and form anew. She no longer wept, for she had changed. She was stronger now. She smiled. The demon rose. She stared down at Hell and raged. She raged, and saw her tears streaming down into the abyss. She scrabbled for something to pull her toward the depths, but there was nothing she could do. All the demon could do was stare and rage. She felt something then. She felt the skin being stripped from her wings. But she did not cry out. She felt her horns shatter into a hundred thousand pieces she felt those pieces sting her eyes and her back and her legs and her everything. But still, she did not cry out. She screamed something. She screamed “Why? What have I done that is so wrong that not even Hell itself will have me?” The demon felt her wings begin to tear from her back. She said no. She felt her red eyes begin to fade into blindness and she said no. The demon felt something fade away from the hundred thousand pieces of her horns. It was replaced with something new and gray. She felt her wings snap at the joints, and she did cry out, for she did not know what it meant. The demon’s wings healed into something new and gray. She felt feathers grow, new and gray, just like the rest of her. The demon felt the pieces of her horns pull themselves out of wherever they were and form anew. She no longer wept, for she had changed. She was stronger now. She smiled.

if i don’t reblog this at least once a month, I have probably died

Not every tale has a happy ending…

loogi comin for da booty

sometimes i write stories and other times i go with ‘the trash giveth and the trash man taketh away’

don’t mind me just experimenting with my pronouns

mysterio is the best marvel villain fight me

Questioning My Gender

So Idk if I’m nb, trans, cis, fluid, or what. I’m a boi, and I’ve started wearing some more feminine clothes. One day when I looked in the mirror, I saw I looked pretty feminine and I got really happy. ＼_(^^)_／

why do i feel like my blog is going to end up having the ruins of a bunch of stories i never finished

this. this is why i’m here.

new job.

cloak girl, aka drum major in A Light in Darkness, if you see this, you’re cool and i was too fucking socially awkward to say anything to you at the bake sale so i just sat on my phone

A dysphoria venting poem

Again, and again / I find myself in / these places / and spaces / where I can’t help but almost stare / and compare / and silently cry in despair / because all the girls around me / are so pretty / and then you’ve got me / in my hoodie / who just got a haircut / which is ok but / i feel like there’s no way / anyone would ever say / that i look as good as they / do. Inside my little closet / my prison / that traps me inside it / and I have to hide / and lie / and say that I / am completely fine / but inside / I’m dying / and I want to start crying. / It’s awful. / And it’s all / around. The way / that they / just talk / and walk / and do anything / just makes me want to say something / but would they think / I was worth their time? / Would I even be worth a dime? / I cry inside my closet of pain.