Sausage sitting in a pew in his cathedral, hands clasped together tightly with a sunflower rosary between his palms.
He's not praying, not actively, but sitting in his church gives him comfort. There's actually no thoughts swimming around his mind for once. His head is an empty echo chamber with no sound to echo.
His eyes are wide and his whole body is shaking. He's crying as well, a steady stream of hot tears run down his cheeks and drip from his beard.
There's no way he just met Santa Pearla. His Saint Pearl. And she's a janitor?
The lady in a silky soft green dress - blooming with fresh sunflowers and vines - looked so much like her. Saint Pearl. But this lady from a foreign world insisted she was not a god. She said she handled trash all day, cleaned floors with a mop and a dirty pair of overalls.
Sausage sobbed, bowing his head behind his clasped hands.
Her name was Pearl though. Just not his Pearl. She looked so much like Santa Pearla, she sounds like her too. The resemblance was uncanny, terrifyingly so.
When she stood at the head of the church, in the sunlight, she looked beautiful. She was breathtaking with her crown of sunflowers catching the light and illuminating the petals like a halo, and the way her hair fell around her face and practically shimmered in the light.
Sausage had fallen to his knees and wept over her beauty - or maybe it was because he had convinced himself she was his god. That he was seeing his god in his church, speaking to her.
What a foolish thing to believe.
Sausage's hands fell. He curled in on himself in the pew. His rosary fell to the ground, around his feet.
Were his beliefs founded upon a false god? Had he somehow convinced himself such a woman was worth worshipping? Was everything a lie? Had he been praying to, believing in, raving about a lie? Was his church built for a lie?
He was going to puke if he didn't stop thinking. He needed a distraction he needed to talk to someone he-
He needed his religion. He needed his Saint. He couldn't lose his faith. What - or who - would he have left then?
Sausage leaned down and picked up his rosary, still shaking, and held it between his palms once again.
And he prayed.
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In response to @janaispunk’s shitty little anon,
sorry you’re mad that a fat girl could (and would, frankly) pull your fantasy man before you ever could. You can’t blame him though, I mean look at us—our fat bodies are lush and our face cards don’t decline. Oh, and you know why most of all??? Because we aren’t shallow, closed minded assholes. A fat girl would pull ANY PPCU character before you and your shitty attitude ever could.
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I think it'd be funny if someone showed their non-Ninjago friends season 2, episode 25, and then instead of the finale, they jumped into season 10, leaving them with no context. It'd be so funny only for the Garmadon stuff, because the last time they saw him, it was about his Satanic possession, and now they're jumping to him in jail for some reason.
Bonus points if you lie to them when they ask "what? He never said anything about 'them coming' ever!!!", and say "oh he did in the finale I won't show you".
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I got a tiktok on my fyp the other day abt how u shouldn't go in the paris catacombs bcs there are ppl who live down there and will steal ur map/light/etc bcs they don't like anyone outside their communities wandering around and the whole time I was thinking abt diamond league
NO THAT MAKES DIAMOND LEAGUE SCARIER I DIDNT KNOW PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIVED DOWN THERE 😭😭
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thinkin bout a human au where the disassembly drones are demons
like, dead guys :D
may braindump bout this au tomorrow idk
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n evn tho satan is blonde hes actually so lana del rey bookish loser doe eye v siren eye bows in his hair depressed brunette girl to me jus so u know
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Me when I can get through seminars without having to actually read the texts 😏
Me when I realise I'm paying 10k for classes that are so undetailed that I don't need to read the texts 😏
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