Okay But Like The Inside Of A Washing Machine Sounds Like It Would Be A Fun Place To Hang Out

it’s just so

the most scuffed dsmp alignment chart

take me

Take my lungs. watch me as I slowly.  Gasp for breath.  Have me begging for air.  while I slowly start to suffocate  my lungs start to cave 

Take my bones.  replace them with glass.  watch me as I shatter and break.  look at the crystal stained crimson  step on me while I'm already breaking  listen to the music of my whimpers of pain,  mixing with the sound of shattering glass 

darling

Darling, I see your eyes sparkle with the light of a thousand stars  They shine light in my darkest night.  Darling, I see the gold in your veins  It glows with the ichor of our old gods.  Dripping down your fingertips From the gashes,  you made into them.  Darling, I see the night sky in your hair  the way it shines and moves with the utter darkness of the stars  darling, I see the sea in your mind  the way your mood changes like the tides  You rage like the sea.  And you hold your desire like the sea holds the creatures.  

commissions sheet!

hi, here's the deal: i'm a young mixed muslim with chronic anemia taking care of a kid, along with being in intensive treatment 20h a week. i literally don't have the time to get a job of any kind. so i'm opening commissions!

starting at sketches, lined is +$5, flat color is +$10, and shaded/lineless is +$20.

here's some more examples of my art!

i'll also be doing $10 traditional sketches like this:

i have the right to refuse any request, and please remember that i am a minor!

i'll only be accepting p*ypal and vnmo for now, sorry for inconvenience.

PM me for more info if you're interested, and reblogs are appreciated!

update: i've been discharged from intensive, but i'm still looking for a job, thanks for all the reblogs!

WW111 by grandson is the perfect song to describe c!tommy. the lyrics of the song describe war from the point of view from a young kid, it really screams tommy, who throughout the canonical story is still just a kid. the parallels are astounding. tommy is just a kid and has gone through so much. idk this is just a brain dump. /dsmp/rp

side show mirrors

You call me an attention whore.  Only because my heart screams out for any type of love  something you never gave  look me in the eyes.  And tell me. "I'm always craving attention."  All I could do was Laugh.  what you call craving attention I  call a cry for help.  Haven't you noticed that?  You never taught me.  how to ask for help

To Adora, From Elliott

To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking up all those far away dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all

All those years you spent taking care of everyone else Watching your siblings,  making sure that they had the childhood you never had. Giving up on all those dreams you had made for yourself Handing them over to your siblings,  thinking that maybe they could let them grow. Planning on becoming their superhero, Ready to save their day, Shielding them from all the screaming, The sharp words being thrown like knives. Giving them a haven from the flying fists and broken doors.

But darling I promise you Your life will not have been wasted. I will following your footsteps saving the kids  from those monsters that lurk around them. I will keep themself, and make sure they grow

Remember all those nights you would make promises Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong

Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together

you were right when you said you’d never see twenty-seven You weren’t even able to see yourself as a teenager The image always seemed so far off, Just out of reach  a dream you always had each night but always leaving in the morning light Leaving you with just tiny pieces of it.

You had been off by a few years though There was never a sweet sixteen for you No birthday presents and a new car. You had been long gone before that.

You had barely seen fourteen, Eighth grade was your last.  But I think you knew that. I think you had come to terms, Knowing that you would die soon. But that’s how you were always giving, giving, and giving. So I guess it wasn’t that big of a surprise.

What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, That I was able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?

Because for me to make it, You had to die, I had to kill every part of you. I had to be the one to hold that pillow over your head, I still have the scars from those scratches you gave me. I carry them like war paint, showing the world how I was born.

I had to burn that name you carried for years,  Burning it to ashes, spreading them to the world. The name you carried on your back like a shield or a burden Depending on how you looked at it.

I cut off those beautiful brown locks that you loved. Those curls littered the floor of the bathroom,  while chopped them off with some old kitchen shears. That beautiful brown color was bleached and turned any color besides that natural tone.

Your skin that was then envy of your family I covered in scars and marks, making it match the way we both had felt. Making your family no longer love it, turning it into something they no longer wanted to see.

I took the breasts that you had always hoped for, And had chopped them off, leaving your chest barren and scarred making it easier for me to live, no longer have those things as a reminder as to who you used to be, while it had made you cry out in shame, for you had lost the things you had been hoping would make you feel as if you belonged in your skin.

but my dear adora, I hope you realize that nothing I had done to this body, that was once yours, was in malice or hatred.  it was just something I had needed to do, for me to live happily. please remember I’ll love you forever, my little girl of grey. rest well knowing will live this for the both of us, taking those chances you never did.

always and forever, Elliott Mars Parker.

her cravings

The girl craved depravity. She loved it in her twisted way. Loved how it made her feel The way it felt as the darkness consumed her. How it crept through her veins stealing its way into her heart making it's self its own little home inside her heart. Whispering their tales of the demented and cursed screaming the depths of its madness into her heart. Corrupting her, molding her, stealing her Twisting her into a demented shell of her once pure self.

i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands

i love you

I have loved you since We were young. barely old enough to even understand what love even was. the feeling of pure and utter devotion I had felt for you before I fully realized How much love would ruin me. How much it would kill me Tearing me apart, never letting me go Stealing away my heart, never giving it back