figment

      “Perhaps you would want to…try—for yourself—or for somebody else…before certain death is—acquired?”

"I would say no--indeed, a no is my answer. How am I to be so sure that there isn't cobwebs adorning the inside or how awfully lacking it is of a plush bottom? I'd rather put myself to eternal death in something comfortable rather than cold and dreadful."

e.f.b. (via somniloquencee)

          “Boy oh boy are you preaching to the choir right now. Alcohol has always been the best escape.” A thought came to him. “We should drink together.”

"Where would you suggest we take our shots? Nearby pub? Bar? Club? What might it be?"

              |{|☼|}|  The deer’s speed scared the poor child. He thought for sure he’d fall off if his grasp slackened at all, and so he held onto Elliot with all his little might— until the speed was reduced, and his eyes cracked open to reveal a cave. It was dark, but it wasn’t that bad. Carefully, the child slipped off of the deer, padding around the new area in search of anything cool or neat.

˛≈¸After a few deep breaths she let one hand blindly crawl across her skin to search for any wounds. She may have forgotten how to walk properly but falling is second nature to her. “Mr…” She mumbled to herself when her hand discovered that she had taken a male form. When a sweet scent tickled her nose her hands were quick to tap the ground around her hoping that there was something edible. Pale hues became a bright blue when her hand found the familiar berry shape. Once it was eaten she started to search for another.

He didn't wait to look over to see how they'd react, only keeping his eyes shut(a bit worried for what was to come).

          “Anything’s good really. I’m not a picky drinker.”

          “Mmmh,” he tilted his head back and forth as he thought. “Guess it depends on my mood. Like tonight is a shot night, but the other night I felt more wine, etcetera. I’m more specifically feeling a tequila shot.”

          He’s trying his damn hardest to not ask if he could see. “My fiance would kill me if I had alcohol in the apartment, so I have to stash whatever I’ve got in my car.”

          “Bro, you’re the first person to ever agree with me on that.” He’s amazed.

"And there should be many more, definitely. I keep my very own cellar in the basement of my home."

          “Thank God drinks are still a thing I can have.” 

Deep Blue | Simon Roy

"Yes." That was the only answer given in response at the others proposition, even if it were a mere idea — Momo wanted it no matter what it was. He does not want these wings on his person as it goes against his very nature, his very creation and plus it was causing his insides to scream and hiss at the very thing. Even when he watches the other male stroke one of those disgusting feathers that made a wing what it was, those cyans of his were incredibly empty. Hollow. No longer holding the brightness that used to reside inside of them from the start.  There was only hatred, self loathing and indifference.  As he watches the other lower their hand from touching those pristine white feathers, he awaited the other to respond or to tell him what this idea was. It could have been such a suffocating suspenseful moment if it weren’t for the fact he had been extremely patient. Patience in waiting or expecting the worst — that’s what the clone was only good for.  A simple twitch of his skinny frame as those wings seem to stretch themselves out once more, as if wanting him to take airbone to the bright coloured skies above them. Too bad he wasn’t feeling the need to go sky high.

His foot hovered over one of the larger-set puddles, ready to step in it once the other did. It had to be in sync for such a plan to unfold correctly;otherwise, the both of them could get lost, which wouldn't suit well for either of the two.