FOR a drawing request could you do this silly? (for context its a roleswap of evillious chronicles where nemesis and gallerian swap teehee)
MODS, add Cat boy Gallarian to the MyWaifu.Net list !!!
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FOR a drawing request could you do this silly? (for context its a roleswap of evillious chronicles where nemesis and gallerian swap teehee)
MODS, add Cat boy Gallarian to the MyWaifu.Net list !!!
was gonna do a redraw of this screencap but then i got way too focused on the face way too early and im too tire to finish it but look at it
I just want Bucky to hold me and call me doll. 😭
This is how I've felt 99 percent of the day (and everyday)
But also-
Bucky finally getting peace and being able to wake up in the morning to his sleepy smile. Both mumbling ab plans for the day as his fingers ghost over any exposed skin he can find. All because the need to know that none of it is a dream and you're actually there with him sticks with him all day.
For the fanfic word game: love? Hurt? Blood?
Thank you so much for sending this in, Kyler! 💞💞
Blood:
He remembers Cold Oak, remembers Sam’s still and cold body against him, his hands wet with blood and thinks, this is worse. (SPN)
The teacup is shattered. Jagged lines where it unbecomes. Skin is cut and blood drips. (HANNIBAL)
Sam swallows, wipes his sweaty, shivering hands on his thighs and moves closer to Jack, curls a hand around Jack’s neck and—god, he’s so hot. Is he supposed to be this hot? Sam feels like he’s touching the Impala out on a Texas heatwave day. Feels like his hands are burning (Jess on the ceiling, wide eyes and screaming but he can’t hear anything and there’s blood and fire everywhere—) (SPN)
Shaking off some of the adrenaline now, Dean realises that he’s covered head to toe in blood and other stuff he really doesn’t want to know. And Christ, he smells. The beauty of Purgatory, he grimaces. (SPN)
Instead, Sam hears a blood-curdling scream, feels the familiar burn of light against his eyelids. (SPN)
Jack is in pain, coughing blood, clutching his chest, looking at him with those eyes. Those pleading, please make it stop eyes. And—Sam can’t do anything but watch. (SPN)
Blood. Jack’s blood. God, he can’t do this. (SPN)
The flash of dimples, how Sam brightened (if only for a moment) and oh, this spark—Sam had only been this abomination so far, the brother of the righteous man who had the vile blood of demons within him, who was destined to let the devil walk this earth—but Castiel realises how could Sam be anything evil? Be anything like abomination he heard of when he burns so beautifully and bright. (SPN)
Hurt:
He wakes up, painfully, to the feeling of sharp, clawed cold under his skin. It hurts to move, to open his eyes. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. (THE ORIGINALS)
Everything hurts, the world is so loud, ringing— Jack staggers back, clenching his head. (SPN)
Sam specifically said the archives in the Bunker are forbidden, believes that it’s too dangerous, that there is stuff in here that could hurt him. Jack thinks otherwise but didn’t voice it because Sam looked worried and Jack hated making Sam’s shoulder’s hunch, even more, adding another line to his forehead crease, so he nodded and said, okay. (SPN)
Hands come to touch his face, a gentle caress, so soft it aches. I’ll never hurt you. Sam goes weak. Allows himself to fall on Castiel’s shoulder. (SPN)
There’s a person dead because of him. Not hurt, not like the Clarks who got patched up. He’s dead. Gone. Like his mother. Like how Castiel was. (SPN)
Jack stumbles back, grabs his head. It hurts—pain, his mom said that Castiel would protect him— (SPN)
He breathes in. His mind is muddled up. Strange. He can’t grasp anything. Everything is all foaty. Missing. What? There’s—missing. Something is. Something is missing. Someone? He clenches his teeth. Teeth, he still has teeth. That’s good. Important. He can’t remember why. It hurts to think. Where is he? (SPN)
Love:
I...want to get better. Okay. I love you! I don’t think I am worth all of this. Really? You and Sam are all my family. All I have. (SPN)
She whispers, “I love you, Jack,” a lot. It’s fierce, and Jack feels strong, yellow so bright and beautiful pulsing around him. And he wants to reach out. (SPN)
They never know
How much energy it can take to get up in the morning
How hard it is to sleep at night
The struggle to take care of yourself
How much you have to hurt people around you just to feel better
How little things can make you happy
How much they can hurt
How interpreting things make them worse more often than not
How your heart will ache when it’s too full
How your heart will hurt when it’s empty
How a stone heart will only last so long
How being kind and being mean can both be defense
Why tears don’t come when you need them
Why they never leave when you don’t
Why love isn’t always what you see on tv
Why you struggle to be who you want to be
Why when the earth says you can do it you say not today
Why when you say you can the earth says no
How many times you haven’t wanted to wake up
How many times you haven’t wanted to sleep
How many times you’ve feared for your life on a perfectly normal day
Why you question if you’ll make it through the year or month or week or day
Why you think it doesn’t matter if you stop breathing
How much you wonder about how long it will take before you can go a day, a week, a month, a year without that pain
How much you’ll be able to survive that pain
How you feel like nobody else feels that way
How you feel too scared to voice it
Why you don’t understand that you’re not alone
Why you don’t just get help
How difficult it is to get help
How difficult it is to even ask for help
How easy it is to help others when all you want to do is cry
How difficult it is to hold back tears
Why it’s so impossible to stop holding back tears
How one bad thing could make it worse
How many good things it would take to make it better
How difficult it is to truly feel loved
What it feels like
Because anyone who doesn’t feel it, who has never felt it, doesn’t love someone who feels it, will never be able to know.
Will never understand.
Even if they have felt it, or loved someone who felt it, there isn’t a guarantee they understand.
There’s no guarantee with any of it, the breaking points, the amount of love you can feel, the amount of bad things that can happen before you can’t feel at all, when you’ll be able to breathe again, when it will end, whether it will end through healing or not, and how long until this feeling goes away or returns.
There’s no guarantee you’ll be guided through any of it, there won’t always be someone holding you through it all. You’ll change because of it, you’ll need protection and a guiding light when there’s no one there so sometimes you’ll need to be strong when you shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t be a part of growing up, but sometimes there are no other options. Sometimes there are but the fact that those doors need someone else’s hands to open them leave them impossible or scary to even try.
I grew stronger when I shouldn’t have had to. I’m in a rut where I don’t feel comfortable asking for help at all. I feel guilty asking for things that make me happy and I feel terrible when I don’t sacrifice something I like for someone else’s happiness.
I know there are other people out there who probably share these feelings with me, and who have it worse than me. I wish I was alone in this because I would sacrifice my happiness and comfort for the world, I felt like I had to and I still kinda do.
I’m lucky I’ve never wanted to end my life, I’m lucky I don’t want to hurt myself, I’m lucky I’m getting out of a toxic environment. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay, it just means I’m on my path to getting better, and that my path isn’t as difficult as others. I hope I can help someone else out there through their path even if it’s just a little.
Know you’re not alone, and that even though it’s difficult to ask for help, it’s not impossible. Online, in person, anonymously, shouting your name to the sky, there’s some way you should be able to cry out for help. And sometimes it is a gamble if someone hears you or not, but when a good person hears you, they’ll try to help you through this.
It’s a cold morning, but that’s unsurprising. It was the middle of winter, after all. It was quite early too, crazy early; she’d been up all night, and it was now four am. Which again, wasn’t surprising either. Robin had a habit of sleeping all day and painting all night, and tonight wasn’t an exception. She couldn’t say it was her fault though, what with the amount of schoolwork she’d just gotten free from. Break was heaven, it truly was. No sleep schedule, no classes, just sleep when you’re tired, wake up when you’re not, and eat when you’re hungry. Although, there was the whole ‘must keep hydrated’ thing, but she couldnt complain about that. She did it to herself, so.
Two sharp taps on her bedroom door made her jump, tearing her from her thoughts and smearing the blue paint from her brush over the side of her flushed cheek. What, she’d taken a slight dance break, sue her. But anyway. Who’d be knocking? It was four am, everyone was asleep. Except Bee, and she’d be at work for another few hours. Even then though, the two shared a room, and a bed. Why would she knock, if it was her?
"Yeah?" she called softly, careful not to wake anyone. About two seconds later her door creaked open, and Bee’s head poked in, saying something about checking if Robin was still awake. A grin spread on the other girl’s lips, and she dropped her paintbrush into the jar as the brunette dropped her bag. They met halfway, cliched and dumb as it was, stifling giggles.
"Thought you’d be at work still," she said after the hug.
"Some idiot tried to drag me over the bar, so they sent me home early," Bee said, poking the painter in the side and laughing as she squirmed away with a squeak, "but it doesn’t matter, I’m back before you pass out for once. Does it mean you’ll actually go to sleep on the bed and not the floor this time?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Robin shrugged, attempting to wipe the still wet blue paint from her cheek before looking back into stormy eyes, fixing the other girl with a teasing look. “Make me.”
Bee grinned. Not the small, taunting smirk she pulled on sometimes (only ever for Robin. She could hide it as badly as she liked, but she was a pretty big sap), but a grin, stretching her lips wide and crinkling the corners of her eyes. Robin swelled with happiness. As often as her girlfriend of two years smiled like that, it never failed to fill her with a bubbly kind of warmth.
"Oh, I will."
And with that Bee was manouvering Robin away from her paints, ignoring the protests about having to put them away (they were all close anyway, there was about two splodges of blue and green left on the actual palette), and yanking the paint-covered shirt over the other girl’s head, shoving a clean shirt into her hands. “Here. I’ll get you a glass of water, go put some pyjama pants on and brush your teeth,” she said. Yes, she could have just told her to change her own shirt, but Bee knew she’d be wearing that particular sky blue bra, and she wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity.
Returning a few minutes later with the water (Hannah had woken, and the two had stopped for a brief good morning/hi before parting. But when Bee did return, with the lights still on, Robin was face down in her pillow, snuffling softly into the fabric. Bee smiled fondly, placing the glass down and watching as the other girl’s hand flopped out, looking for her beloved teddy; worn from years of cuddles, Robin still loved it and whenever possible, refused to sleep without it. She also refused to sleep without Bee, but that was more of a recent development, after she’d moved in with the hazel eyed girl. Bee pushed it into her hand from where it was just too far away, and Robin curled it close to her chest and continued on snuffling.
So the brunette (well, the awake one) changed into her own pyjamas, flicked off the light and crawled into bed, throwing the heavy covers over their bodies before curling close to the painter (blue paint still on her face, mind you) and slipping an arm over Robin’s waist. It had been so very long (well, three weeks. Long enough) since this; Bee’s work and sleep schedule was the near opposite of Robin’s, and they’d hardly had time to be close over those weeks. But break was here now, and they had all the time to themselves. Which Bee was thankful for.
"See you when the sun’s up," she murmured into Robin’s shoulder. She got a soft snore in response, at which she smiled, bsfore closing her eyes and letting herself fade away too.
pink-eyed-incubator replied to your post:Offline
You are great, friend! Never let anyone convince you otherwise! <3
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