What If Instead Of Creepypasta It Was Called Eepypasta And Instead Of Killing People They Just Napped

the “gender is what is in your pants” rule doesn’t apply to me if I’m not wearing pants.

just a thought.

ꪖꪶꪑꪮᦓꪻ 📻🌹🥀

᥅ꪖᦔ꠸ꪮ᥅ꪮᦓꫀ

(fluff/angst)

It felt like a sunny spring day on earth.

The birds were chirping, and the sky was almost blue. It was hot, but the cool breeze made it feel just right.

The grass was almost green. Butterflies fluttered around. The two lay on a picnic blanket, on an almost green grassy hill.

Alastor was half asleep. The only kind of sleep he had been in for the past 6 months. Rosie was right next to him, smiling, looking up at the almost green trees.

It was an almost perfect day.

Rosie turns to Alastor. “Al.” She whispers.

“Hmmm?” He replies.

“How does your chest wound feel?” Her hushed, almost motherly tone can be heard.

“Numb.” He replies, groggily.

His exorcist wound. The one he got from foolishly charging at Adam, only to be beaten to near death. He’s been fairly anxious, tired, and sleep deprived since then. It was stinging, but now it’s not. Likely a good thing.

Well, Rosie considers it a good thing. It’s really freaking Alastor out.

Rosie smiles. “At least it’s not stinging.”

The world sounds earthly and peaceful when Alastor’s eyes are closed, but the moment he opens them, he’s met with different shades of red, everywhere he looks, unable to catch a break from the mean, taunting color. Disappointment floods his body more than blood ever could, as he looks up at what is almost home.

“I’m just hoping it’s not poisonous, or has some kind of mind eating parasite in it..” Anxiety circles Alastor. What he just said, didn’t sound like an Alastor thing at all.

Rosie frowns. “You’re being paranoid again.”

“I know.” Alastor responds in a tired tone. So much energy has been lost since the fight. Dizziness meets Alastor, so he shuts his eyes, to pretend that his almost perfect day, is a completely perfect day.

His dear “friend” holds his hand, massaging his knuckles.

A new feeling creeps in, but only attacks his heart. Tingly and feeling happy, he can’t put his finger on what this feeling is.

The two hear an explosive go off in the distance. Not even a hint of surprise passes by.

“It would be an almost perfect day… if we weren’t.. well.. here.” Rosie sighs.

Alastor nods. “Mhm..”

Rosie leans her head on his shoulder, and he can’t help but blush. A tired feeling passes by, and he closes his eyes once again.

“I’m so happy for Sir Pentious. So happy for Charlie and her hotel project, so happy for the future patients who could come a little closer to earths beauty by finally meeting Heaven.”

Alastor listens to Rosie’s talking as much as he can. He leans his head into hers.

He really likes the way she sounds. He could almost listen forever.

He listens to the chirping birds and the whistling wind, and the bugs buzzing. “It truly is an almost perfect day, isn’t it?” He finally speaks up.

“Yeah… yeah it is. It really is an almost perfect day.” Rosie replies chuckling.

Alastor feels his whole existence float away from him, as his mind starts to go white and blank. He can’t even feel sad, but instead feels satisfied. At least it ended in a useful way, as he 𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 survived a poisonous angelic attack.

Rosie continues to talk on.

“I wish every day could be just like this one. Just you, and me, and an almost perfect day. Right Alastor?”

His grip on her hand loosens, as she’s now the only one contributing to their hand holding.

No response could be heard from Alastor.

Maybe he just didn’t hear her.

“…Right… Alastor…?

A panic starts to flood her chest, but she still calmly calls to him.

…

“…Alastor?”

Just so that y’all get less confused

I changed my name from octopie-cherry to cacao-snorter. 😋

surrounding yourself with too many suicidal people (and what it does)

hello.

my name is moll. I need to talk to you. And before I do, I need to put a trigger warning on this post. I will be discussing mental health and suicidal topics. If these trigger you, do not continue reading ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

most people have that one friend who isn’t doing so well. Most people have a friend that is not doing so well and obviously needs comfort and reassurance from friends. That is okay. Some people have friends with serious issues or mental disabilities, causing them to not act like the social norm for people. That is okay.

it becomes a problem when you’re in fear. You’re in fear that you could wake up tomorrow and they aren’t here anymore. It becomes a problem when you have to always make sure that they don’t go off the deep end on you. It scares you, right? And I’m not saying you should not be friends with people when they become suicidal, I’m saying that there’s a problem when it feels like your job to make sure they don’t do anything stupid. When it feels like it’s your responsibility to make sure they’re alive. When you feel like you have to be friends with them BECAUSE they’re suicidal. You can be there for them when they are suicidal without leaving them, but there’s a problem when their problems start turning into yours. You’re scared of them. You’re scared because they refuse to get help. You’re scared of them dying. Your friendship, is fueled by fear.

It’s a huge problem when you surround yourself with an entire group of people like this. Being in an entire groupchat or friend group with people like this is harmful to not only their mental health, but yours too. People always talking about how they want to go off the deep end, talking about the drugs they’re doing, showing pictures of their self harm to you. An entire group of people, and then other suicidal people you may know outside that friend group or group chat. ⚠️Not all suicidal people are like this, I’m talking about when they are VERY suicidal⚠️

I’m going to speak from experience now. I have been surrounded with suicidal people for god who knows how long. Having a ton of friendships with people who are about to go off the deep end, and having to constantly make sure they don’t, scars you bad. I have a feeling it’s going to stick with me forever. At first I thought, “I could help them.”, but now I can’t get a good nights sleep praying that they are alive and breathing tomorrow. I’ve been vented to, I’ve seen peoples self harm, I’ve let people over share about their lives to me. So many people, all the venting and the sadness. They say the same things every day, you don’t know how to respond anymore, and they rarely respond to your vents. I thought it was okay. But what has it done to me?

It manipulated me into thinking my problems don’t matter, because all of my friends have it worse. They can tell me anything, even if it affects me badly. I’ve never been able to fully talk to them about it, hopefully one day I can. But for now I’ve dug myself into a huge hole, it’s so hard to get out. I am on so many waiting lists for therapy, nobody is available. I wish I could’ve told my younger self to not do what I did. There’s a huge messy ball of depression and anxiety hanging over me, with the right help I can cut it open, but the right help is just out of reach for now.

You don’t have to be like me. You don’t have to pray to god you get help, you don’t have to go sleepless nights hoping your friends are here tomorrow. You don’t have to be like me. Surround yourself with people who have a good influence on you.

its okay to be suicidal, its okay to have suicidal friends. It’s okay to vent and it’s okay to be vented to, but it becomes a problem when your whole social life is fueled by fear. Be there for your friends when they’re not doing okay, but let them know when you’re not doing okay either. Make sure they care.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading.

I'm still not okay after reading the Playlist for When Your Boyfriend Stops Breathing by @sunsetplums, still listening to the playlist too ˙◠˙ p.s. Birb’s name is Mango, she used to live with the fic’s author but passed away just a couple days ago so now Jayce is looking after her. Faint music on the bg is My děti ze stanice Bullerbyn by Květy

Who is Lucifer phoning to? maybe 📻?

chat tell me how many likes for the continuation don't be harsh

[BG's practice 2#]

natalie and jane doodle 😛

People don't actually grow out of their emo phases. People are forced out of their emo phases by employers who get a raging boner over controlling how their employees dress, cut their hair, whether they mod their bodies and so on