this little darling is niffty!

here’s a little tidbit i don’t think i’ve actually mentioned before—

if you ship Vaggie with men and/or you interpret her as bi/pan/straight rather than a Lesbian, please unfollow me!

Fidgeting intently with a needle, she almost didn’t catch herself posing the question. Flick. The sharp point sends some grains of carbon flying off the pad of her finger. Flick, flick.

❝I don’t care about the principle.❞ Her hands burn under the weight of her own gaze. ❝And I don’t think this… will pan out. No ill will towards your brother! But, really,❞ A ghost of a smile flickers for a moment, having just processed the last of Molly’s statements. A giggle. ❝Heehee, flatterer! No, no, no, nothing’s fair. It was hard enough discerning what sins would 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 in life, now this little antichrist wants us to rise once we’re already damned? Silly. Silly, silly.❞

An absent blink (wink?) and a scoff.

❝Well, then again, I certainly hadn’t expected to fall to Hell, either! So who’s to say what’s real. If we know of it, it probably isn’t.❞ Flick.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

Your pain takes the shape of flowers, or something else beautiful and free. You can't help but see what you don't have in the beautiful thing, can't help but feel pain as you see what you're missing out on. Maybe you even wish that you could just be happy and surround yourself in flowers, but you can't, because each time you see them it's like a reminder of the empty hole you carry. They say that pain is beauty... Right?