Aug 10, 2014
KISS + atrumstella
"Never in a million fucking years."
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KISS + atrumstella
"Never in a million fucking years."
00:00:00 [[ive come to screw up your life]]
Chris let out a sigh as she sat on the roof of the academy, watching the sun set like she normally did, just on a higher roof this time rather than just a normal house or building down below.
She had come up here to calm her nerves of the numbers on her wrist being so so close to zero. She was in no way ready for this to happen. She didn’t want to be with anyone. She didn’t want to be friends with anyone, let alone have a soulmate.
Chris felt a tap on her shoulder and she took one last glance at her wrist before turning around. 00:00:00. This was him and she wasn’t the happiest about it either.
"You have got to be kidding me."
atrumstella replied to your post:shoves like 3 burritos in my mouth
pffff i read that wrong omf
.........
stares at u
atrumstella answered your question:mmn want to thread multiparaaas ;-; anybody up...
i ammmm. you can choose the blog idk there’s this one, lanie, and ayano vuv bc i make bad decisions]]
whispers i dunno
whatre you feeling rn
im good with whatever
atrumstella replied to your post:atrumstella replied to your post:((when people...
[[I LIKE GAY. I, MYSELF, AM VERY GAY. LET ME HER THE GAY, OGAY?]]
((HHH maybe iF I FIND ONE OF THOSE VOICE MEME THINGS AND PEOPLE SEND ME QUESTIONS))
atrumstella replied to your post:((when people call u she cause of ur voice do...
[[NOW I WANNA HEAR YOUR VOICE JEEZ DUS.]]
CRIES NO U DONT ITS GAY))
Strength of Heart ~ @atrumstella
Crona stood on the pavement clutching a ball in wiry arms. The others made this look so easy, how could one possibly learn to play this impossible game? It was beyond the sword wielder's comprehension, though that hadn't caused their determination to waver in the slightest. Crona was not leaving until everything was perfect. If that meant an hour, a day, a week, or even a month- giving up wasn't even an option. The meister wanted so badly to fit in, that nothing would stand in their way. They would rather collapse from exhaustion than admit defeat. The teenager dribbled past imaginary opponents, dodging and weaving around the court. Although they tripped time and time again, and nearly lost the ball multiple times, they always got back up with a new determination. Crona took shot after shot at the basket, growing more and more frustrated as each one bounced off the rim, the backboard- or even worse, missed completely. By the time the afternoon came to an end, and the sun began to give way to the moon, Crona still had not scored a single point.
A strangled cry of frustration rang out as the meister took one last shot, putting all of their anger and loneliness into the throw, It bounced back and hit Crona in the face, adding injury to the insults that were already being felt. The teen cried out and fell to their hands and knees, looking smaller than ever. Why couldn't they do it? Everyone else made it look so easy. Was Crona always destined to be the odd one out?