welcome to beautiful amporacest!
in case you're interested in joining-there are rules. i know, they suck, but sometimes they're necessary.
~1. NO HATIN', you'll be blocked whether you're a member or not!
~2. PUT YOUR ART IN THE RIGHT FOLDERS. i cannot stress that enough!
~3. DO NOT SUBMIT TO FEATURED unless you're positive your work is beautiful and had 100% effort put into it. this is for your best work only.
~4. WANNA RP BUT CAN'T FIND A CRONUS? note us, and we'll post a blog entry for you!
~5. AMPORNACEST MUST BE TAGGED!! we don't wanna traumatize the little ones!
~5. HAVE FUN!!! omfg, we're here to love amporacest, so let's do it!
well, that's it! now go send us things!
greaseHe pulls you off the couch by your hands, much to your displeasure, and you roll your eyes as he holds them captive and gives you that fucking look.
”Oh, come on,” You complain. He grins and kisses you once, swinging your arms around. “You make the best Sandy, you have to.” You huff and roll your eyes again. Only because he was your boyfriend. That was the only reason you put up with this shit.
“I got chills, they’re multiplyin’, and I’m loosin’ control! ‘Cause the power you’re supplyin’, it’s electrifyin’!” He starts singing along with the TV in the background and Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. You huff again and reluctantly pick up where he left off. “You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man, and my heart is set on you…”
He’s fucking dancing and for some reason you’re going along with that, what even kind of dance is that some kind of fifties-like thing th
humanEverything hurts. The room is spinning in dizzy circles and everything hurts and burns, the pain burns burns overwhelming pain.
You just want to be human.
You know you’re supposed to be human. You just know it. You have to live with the thought that this wasn’t what you were meant to be, you’re stuck in a body that’s not your own. You need to be human like you were supposed to. If you were human then everything would be okay.
Your one broken horn rests in your hand, or maybe it’s on the wall, you can’t see it very well, your fins dribble blood all over your shoulder staining your shirt, your gills struggle not to pull it in and make you choke as you breathe, each lungful painful, so painful, delicate flaps of skin pressing against tight, messy stitches.
You’re panting, lumbering over to the couch, crashing on the purple velvety thing, it doesn’t stop the pain but the room’s a little straighter now. You whimper uncontrollably, little
you're beautiful, Ariel //amporacestYou’re not sure if you can do this.
It’s your first day of high school, and you’re in a skirt and sweater, purple backpack slung over your shoulder, all the hair you grew out over the summer tumbling into your face and down your back. You’re nervous, so fucking nervous…
Everyone you were friends(or enemies) with last year knew. They knew you wanted to do this; they didn’t question you. Encouraged it, even.
But your enemies were a completely different matter.
You have no idea who said what and that’s what’s eating you. They could’ve told everyone, or they could’ve kept their mouths shut, you didn’t know, and you were scared to find out. You were so, so scared.
You gulp, take a deep breath, and walk into the doors, telling yourself not to be such a whiny pile of chickenshit. You got this. None of the seniors and all the other guys even knew who you were. You were good. You were invisible to them, right? Right.