bland & flavourful

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a/n : this didn't come out how expected but LOOK DUMB FUCKING ANGST-

3315 words (minus a/n)
cw : suicidal thoughts , death
wilnap with a dash of unhealthy

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the sky was a dark blue that was stained with black, stars could be seen but there wasn't many out tonight. it was like the sky was a canvas that someone always painted over in a loop, they'd paint it black and dark blue until decided they want it to be more bright with orange, yellow and a lighter shade of blue. clouds were like smudge marks and stars were simply the white spots they never painted over due to how small the spot was it simply because they preferred it that way.

it was funny in a way, the sky could be a canvas for the sky gods but to wilbur that idea was simply a quick thought. a thought that would enter but never be explored because it needed a mind that didn't go blank when trying to imagine something vividly. sometimes the thought would linger for a while but it'd often disappear. these thoughts weren't something wilbur could spend time learning small details about or researching about. the thoughts would come and go but never disappear fully, they didn't have a place to go besides wilbur's head.

the brunet sat on the rooftop staring into the canvas that had yet to be repainted for the hundredth time. he sat dangerously close to the edge of the roof, legs swinging mindlessly. he was tempted to jump off the roof, the height wouldn't kill him but it'd damage him enough to break his legs at least. every time he sat on the rooftop of the house he dared to call home there would always be that voice screaming at him to jump.

the voice would lie to him often, saying it'd be worth it and telling him it wouldn't hurt. course wilbur didn't trust himself. the teen spent years inside his mind and years speaking with so much thinking to know he was a liar. he would always sugarcoat it and his intrusive voice was no exception.

wilbur sighed.

maybe one day he'd jump but not today.


the sunlight that came into the room through the blinds always seemed to exist to spite the young teen who stayed up all night. the room was an orange hue then slowly became more blue until it was a strange white that he didn't notice, it did that every day and each time it did so it felt mocking. like the sky gods knew wilbur didn't sleep and wanted to make sure he knew it was too late to try.

nobody in the house knew about his lack of sleep besides the neighbour who often wandered around the neighbourhood in the middle of the night while listening to music. his hair black enough to mix into the shadows but normally wilbur would see him walking around in a way that the moon always lit his side. the way his neighbour found out was simply because the boy often caught wil when he was staring. the situation was unrealistic and the teen never even tried to ask for the ravenette's name. he couldn't be bothered to ask anyways.

for a few minutes wilbur's honey eyes stared at the ceiling, not moving his limbs or doing anything besides allowing himself to breathe. the ceiling didn't have anything going on that made it nice to look at but it the most interesting thing in that moment. his energy was lacking to even try to find anything else to stare at, so the ceiling will make do.

he could try to sleep but if he did someone would wake him up and his father would probably get upset for wil being in his eyes, lazy. so with a tired groan wilbur sat up and shuffled himself to the end of the bed. it was definitely too small for wilbur's height but he couldn't be a bother and ask his dad for a bigger bed, he has three kids to try to please and wilbur always knew he wasn't important enough to be the one to get the good things. perhaps one day the old hand-me-downs will be a home to bugs that'll eat wilbur slowly until he's nothing but dust.

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