whumpbee

[whumpbee]

once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (positivity is cool) 🌈🌈

okee, let’s see...

1) I’d like to think I’m a pretty funny person, and I love seeing other people laugh.

2) I’m really good to go to for advice or support - I will be there for you if you need it and talk or listen about any of your problems. 

3) My ability to see the best in people kinda makes making friends a really fun thing for me, even if I’m crazy shy at first.

4) I do really like my body and my face, although I might sometimes say otherwise. I’ve accepted my acne and my glasses and my weird single dimple and now have occasional days where I can look into the mirror and smile at what I see.

5) I am trustworthy and loyal as heck. If you tell me a secret, I will keep it until the day I die. 

So this was strangely fun - thanks so much for sending this to me reiven

[whumpbee]

My lovelies <3 I’ll tag @bemusedlybespectacled @whumpershaven @whumpified and all my other whump chat sweeties. You guys are honestly amazing!

Hey, I know nobody really likes me, I always feel real bad about it. So I wanted to try and start something. Reblog this and tag it with somebody on tumblr you really like, just to let them know that they aren’t alone and they are loved. I’ll start @smol-little-shortcake

[whumpbee]

It's the middle of maths and I'm sick and I get a text from a friend in the class next door. I apparently sneeze like a damn elephant.

#sick #my friends are great

[whumpbee]

Reblog If Your Blog Is Safe For

Transgender people

Homosexual people

Bisexual people

Genderfluid people

Asexual people

Pansexual people

Autosexual people

Demisexual people

Bigender people

Agender people

Polysexual people

Straight people

Cisgender people

Straight allies of the lgbtqpiad community

ANYONE

[whumpbee]

Was it me?

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

I’m not sure where it went wrong. Where did it go wrong?

There is blood on my fingers, under my nails, under my skin. My hands run down my arms of their own accord, scratching, scraping, trying desperately to cleanse my body of the the filth and the guilt.

“Please. You can stop this now. Nothing needs to happen. You can still walk away.”

He looks sad. Broken.

“How can I walk away? What you’ve done. I can’t- I can’t just turn my back on that.”

His eyes are just as bright as ever, but the life, the constant curiosity that had always lingered there, has disappeared. He is still.

“It’s not my fault.”

It’s not like I’ve been told. Death, that is. He doesn’t look at peace, doesn’t look like he’s simply fallen into a slumber. His body is twisted oddly, leg at a strange angle, and all I can focus on are those unblinking eyes.

“Not your fault?”

I swallow.

“He was dying. And you did nothing.”

He bites the last word out with disgust in his voice.

“I tried.”

I whisper the words again, trying to inject some kind of power into them.

“I tried.”

It sounds pitiful. Some tired excuse that means nothing because here I am, standing, alive, and he’s dead and his brother’s dead and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“You were going to kill me.”

I say it aloud. Am I trying to convince his lifeless form that his death was somehow justifiable?

“Liar.”

Of course I am.

He lunges. I dodge.

“Please.”

He’d always been the stubborn one.

We circle like wolves around a carcass. The tip of his sword scrapes along the ground.

His brother had become my brother. He’d filled the space of my absent father and I saw him as the man I could become. The man I still could’ve become, before this.

It’s all him attacking and me blocking, the harsh melody of metal against metal, fury against desperation.

He went down in battle, like a true man should. Cut down while I was too busy saving myself.

He throws a wild swing and when I block it our swords slide against one another and I’m jolted forwards by the momentum.

My selfishness had killed him.

The sword slides in so smoothly I almost don’t realise what I’ve done until I look up at his face and see the blood that stains his bottom lip, running down his chin and down his neck in strings.

No one had seen my cowardice except one person with wide eyes and shaking hands. No one had seen except him.

“I’m sorry,” I cry. “But I tried. I swear I tried.”

Blood bubbles from his lips as he slides to his hands and knees. His sword clatters against the ground beneath his hand.

But it doesn’t matter now. The evidence is gone. Taken away to another world. All that’s left is a body and the bloodied sword that I still hold loosely by my side. It suddenly feels wrong in in my hand and I drop it.

“Please. Please. Was it- was it really me? Was it me? Tell me!”

I kneel beside the body.

I kneel beside the the life I took.

I kneel beside my guilt, and I feel empty.

“Was it me?”

He’s looking at me, but he can’t see me. Not anymore. And he breaths out a final breath, a hushed word on the edge of torn lips.

“Yes.”

#short story #writing