You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.
Yeah you could say I’m doing numbers on tumblr. And that numbers? One
The full thing for anyone who wants it!
just a michael drawing I did for a friend. I might try and redraw it with the hands a bit bigger.
meme I made while listening to season 1 of TMA that I'm sure has probably been done before
Also, he’s a little bit dead.
Agnes Montague is sitting in the coffee shop again. Same table, same black coffee, same routine. She wraps her hand around the mug, feeling the heat bloom under her palm. It’s better than burning people, than having them as a sacrifice to prove her warmth. She’s grown out of those fits of anger, and now she sees herself as more of her destiny than the flame borne from it. That’s what it is to be the light in the lightless flame. She wants to be kind but she can’t. She’s a creation with a purpose, and that purpose isn’t kindness.
Everyone else in this shop is human. Completely human. They were born in hospitals, probably, and not within someone else’s – her mother’s – sacrificial funeral pyre. Everyone else in this shop has friends. Everyone else in this shop can find their own purpose. And Agnes just heats her drink, the steam barely bringing up the temperature of her burning skin. She’s the sunlight, just bringing heat down on everyone with her touch. She can burn, but she is essential. She’s not sure who told her that. Something that has to be wrong within her tells her that it was her mother.
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just a sad double drabble of me thinking about agnes too hard!! she thinks about her mom regularly imo,, i consider her thinking about her mom's (voluntary) sacrifice as justification that she has to follow her destiny :((((
I am aware that my blog is an eyesore and I love it | she/they | queer | minor
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