SoulPancake007

Prompt: I always do the same thing on the first day of spring. March 20th. The spring equinox. The first day of spring. I always do the same thing on the first day of spring. This particular March 20th was warm, luckily. Although, no matter what, I would always wear my flower sundress this certain day, which I had inherited from my mother. Sure, I was on the chubby side, and hated how my legs looked, but it was nice to have something more open then my usual jeans. As I walked down the path in my beaten up converse, and my drawstring backpack smacking my butt with every step, it was easy to see that everyone was taking charge of this wonderf

Johnny started off. “What happened to you, boss?” (y/n) sat quietly, not entirely sure how to tackle the question. Would she tell him the truth, or just beat around the bush? “Do you mean, since you fake died? Well, yeah, my mood when down the drain. The only thing keeping me going was the idea of avenging your not-death.” Standing, Johnny felt really wrong for yelling at Pierce just to get in here and accuse (y/n). Stepping hesitantly, he reached the chair next to (y/n)’s bed and sat down, lacing his hands together and leaning forward. “So, why didn’t you come get me? Weren’t you happy to know

(For the record, you don’t get a choice in your favorite song. SORRY!~ The song is Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots.) Inspiration for this story here ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “No, stay away!” The words fell from my lips and I could see the shock on Sans's face as I said them. His face was a mix of disappointment, confusion, and sadness. I had no time to think about morals as I turned on my heel and sprinted away from him, ignoring how the tears falling from my eyes stung me in the cold air of Snowdin. I ran straight to Grillby’s, ignoring the looks I wa

Walk the halls, take a look around. Childish laughter and angry shouts. Sour moods, and boring days. Pestering voices that won’t go away. People thinking they understand. Losing my mind wasn’t a part of the plan. Walking the halls, what do I see? An apathetic school that's encasing me. ------------------------------------------------------------- (And then on my paper version I drew a school that had cracks and stuff with the Devil's horns and tail.)

Ruby red eyes opened, the irises like portals to a different dimension. Instantly, there was someone at the boss’s side to keep her from rising. “Pierce, release me please. I promise I won’t do anything.” Her voice was scratchy and defeated, sad and hollow. Pierce released her and watched -hesitantly- as she sat up. “I’m sorry.” Were the second set of words out of her mouth. Her rosy lips curved into a sad smile, giving Pierce a watery chuckle. “I just can’t deal with… him being back. I can’t deal with his grin and his glasses and just ugh.” The Boss was gesticulating now

As someone sat next to me, I turned up the volume in my headphones. No way I was gonna try and squeak out a conversation with this person. I heard slight muffled talking as they ordered something, but didn’t look up. The song switched to one I had gotten from a vine. It highlighted my favorite youtuber, Markiplier, and his evil personae, Darkiplier. ~I’m not sure what the vine title was, but the song was These Are the Lies by The Cab.~ I Ioved Markiplier for his caring personality and his great charisma. No way i’d ever be like that. I pulled out a rough sketch I had started and a pencil. The sketch was fanart for Markiplier

Get ready for this OOC madness! (Seriously like I couldn’t write a good fic to save my life.) ===> Be a narrator or some shit. Mark was going to a brand new PAX, PAX Central. It was taking place in Kansas City, Kansas. He was hyped. As Mark stepped off the plane into the Kansas City International Airport, he took notice of how… different the weather felt compared to LA. It was cold. Mark walked up to a flight attendant. “Excuse me, ma'am?” She turned around, smiling. “What is the temperature?” She walked up to another attendant, a male, and began conversing with him. After a few seconds, she walked back.

“Niffirg! Wake up!” I shot awake at the sound of a gruff voice. Opening my eyes, I was greeted with a searing white light, causing me to shut them again. The air smelled sickly sweet, and I had a strange feeling that I didn’t want to be here. But that was the problem - why was I here? I opened my eyes again, this time more cautiously. I first noticed the table I had been laying on. It was tall, metal, and cold. The chair I was sitting on was hard and wooden, square and painful to sit on. I tried to shy away from both. Next thing was the room. Bland and gray, with bright white lights gleaming into my eyes. The final thing I n

Nico was living with a ghost. Kind of. The person never left their room when Nico was around, but he’d hear noises. Footsteps. One night, the fridge was empty, then the next morning it was stocked. His dirty laundry was clean, folded, and in a basket on his bed when he came home from college every three days. Pastries randomly showed up in the fridge. And he didn’t even know what the person looked like! After a while, he just started calling the person ‘Ghost,’ because that’s what it essentially was to Nico. He started leaving notes about what to clean and what to wash, and told the person if he needed something

“Baymax, are we there yet? My legs are beginning to ache.” Baymax picked me up in his arms and carried me like a baby. “We are almost there. If anything, Cass will see-” “BAYMAX!” Cass Hamada came rushing out of the café, her apron flying behind her. “We’ve been so worried! We thought you had run off again to see the ocean. I promise, we’ll take you to the- Who’s this?” Her eyes landed on me, safely cradled in Baymax’s arms. “This is (f/l) (l/n), an (age) girl that has dangerously low neurotransmitter levels. Also known as: Depression. She was planning on jumpi