gar0uu

[gar0uu]

tw: mental health issues and sexual assault mention.

hello.

so, posts like these are never easy to draft up or write and honestly i’m already mortified thinking about posting this.

recently, my life has taken a nosedive down and i’m making this post asking for help.

in december, my sister started displaying some mental health issues and while some of the symptoms weren’t anything i haven’t seen before (she’s dealt with major depressive episodes in the past), there were two days that spooked me to my core. she was curled up in the fetal position in the corner of her room, and didn’t recognize our family members. she thought we were strangers.

she was then put on a 5150 hold, and from then she voluntarily left to a group home. the diagnosis given was schizophrenia, and was given medication that to this day has given her neurological problems.

she has difficulty holding her phone, walking, talking and i can see she’s fighting with herself, desperate to just speak her mind.

unfortunately, at the group home- she was assaulted.

i would like to take a break and just breathe- because after reading all of that, and especially since it’s such a heavy subject; i know it can weigh heavy on someone’s heart and mind.

continuing on, i would like to offer some insight of my life- i’ve been adverse on doing so in the past, but i hope this won’t be taken advantage of.

i moved out when i was 16, and since then i haven’t relied on anyone financially. at 18 i was granted guardianship to my 3 siblings, and at that age i was responsible for a 16, 14, and 12 year old(s).

i’d like to say i’ve done a pretty good job at raising them. they’re my pride and joy but unfortunately i wasn’t born with a silver spoon… or any spoon for that matter lol.

right now, i know everyone is going through financial hardships but i am in need of help for my sisters physical and mental therapies.

i’ve exhausted my savings and while i would do so in a heartbeat over and over, i just need help.

if possible, i’ll leave my cashapp; i also have zelle but i can provide that with a dm for anything anyone would be able to spare.

once again, i know things are difficult- but if you can… it would be an immense help, and that’s something i really need at this moment.

i know i don’t have grounds to stand on, i haven’t posted in a long time. but if my works have ever entertained you, caused you comfort, or have been something to just pass the time- i would appreciate a reblog or any help.

thank you for your time, and i promise- i’ll come back to you all with works to keep bringing you joy and giggles when i can.

cashapp: $minsins

zelle: available upon a dm

[gar0uu]

I too would die for my cat

[gar0uu]

rafe (raphael) cameron?

when i first heard of rafe Cameron, my brain immediately went to the christian angel, Raphael, one of the seven archangels. Raphael was a holy thing, shining like the sun, no less. he cleansed the earth of fallen angels, leading them back to heaven.

rafe Cameron, on the other hand, led people to hell and he did not feel bad about it.

the heaps of cocaine, weed and alcohol he ingested was anything but holy. he was evil. less like an angel and more like god's enemy.

not even his father noticed, giving his son such a Christian name and birthing such a devil.

although, ward, his father was just as much as wicked. he let his son spiral down into a hole, inescapable, void and filled with nothing but bloodshed. I've always wondered what rafe would've been like if his father said "I love you," a little more, and his mother wasn't six feet under. also, i wonder what i would be like if i didn't love him.

thinking of continuing this, possibly??? just wanna get some feedback first :)) lemme know what y'all think

[gar0uu]

[gar0uu]

sebby with a very lonely reader? angst please

Alone[Sebastian Michaelis]

Angst

Loneliness, a feeling that plagued you in and out. You never had anyone to talk to, comfort or hold you, understand you or listen to your feelings. You were a completely isolated individual, cut off from society.

You had always wondered what it felt like to have friends, a family, a lover. You would always crave someone's company, though it seemed like you weren't lucky enough to ever experience that. Which was, until, you met him.

Sebastian Michaelis. Such a perfect man he was. He proposed that you could ask him for whatever you wanted to, and in return he would have your soul. He also told you that he was 'attracted' to your rather peculiar soul, which came as a shock to you, because you didn't really 'attract' much things.

Slowly, he became everything to you. Your lover. Your friend. Your family, or whatever one may say. He would comfort you, and was loyal and by your side at all times. For what felt like it was the first time, you felt happy. You felt contented.

Illusions break at some point, however. That time had come, where you would have to complete your end of the bargain. You realized he did all of this for nothing but your soul. You were never a friend to him, you were merely just food.

He just stood there, not moving, not saying a word. Almost as if he were unwilling to have his part of the contract. Slowly he walked over to where you were seated on the bed. He kneeled before you as you just sat there smiling.

"(y/n)"

If you had told him to stop, he would've stopped right then and there. Instead, you leaned in closer to him, and planned to kiss him goodbye.

He kissed you back with so much love, so much care, that it became quite clear that demons could indeed feel emotions. To you however, it was just something that he had done as an obligation of the contract. If only you knew.

"Thank you so much for everything Sebby", were your last words, words that would haunt him for the rest of his immortal life.

Reluctantly, he devoured your soul with nothing but shame and guilt. Looking over to his beloved dead's body lying down, he laughed. Not out of joy that he had fulfilled his hunger, but because he felt. He felt exactly like you did before you met him, he felt lonely.

[gar0uu]

you’d still love him (arne johnson)

To love a hazel-eyed boy is to love things everyone else turns their heads away from, to desire after things undesirable, to love things too late and forget things way after they should be forgotten. But you’ll never love a boy like him, ever again. An angel-(devil) standing in the middle of a pool of shallow mortals, whose souls have an ending; a sudden, blunt ending that makes you smack your teeth but go on with your day. His soul is never-ending, never-ending, like the number of pi, like the many questions of how the world ends or begins.  

Plato would stare in astonishment at his soul; ceaseless questions yet no answers. Your heart forms a question mark towards him but you’ll leave his questions unanswered as long as you get to love him for eternity.  

Even as his eyes go empty, you find yourself unafraid. The milky-white-ness reminds you of that morning when he poured milk into his Frosted Flakes. 

You remember joking with him as you two sat at the small table in the middle of the kitchen, trying to ignore the lawnmower going on outside. You remember seeing the milk dribbling down his chin and he giggled like a schoolboy. 

It must be good, you thought and you laughed with him, your heart swelling inside your chest so much you though you might explode in the middle of breakfast. 

You had remembered that you wanted scrambled eggs, but he had forgotten about them when he went to the store the other day. He had pulled the milk out, asking “cereal?” 

You nodded. As long as you got to eat with him, you didn’t care what you ate. The cereal was a little bit stale, but laughing with him at 9:38 on a Saturday morning, his hair messy from sleep, his voice rough...well, the stale cereal tasted like gold.

To simply exist with Arne Johnson was to be alive as you never had before. It was to live a dream and at times, you formed your hands in prayer to a god you thought staler than that morning cereal: I want us to exist forever. I want to live the dream of him everyday, I want to stare into his warm, caramel eyes as I fall  asleep and find them again when I awake. I am free with him. 

Well. Perhaps god was bitter. How dare you love with all your being, as if he couldn’t be gone in a second. It doesn’t really matter how it happened. 

The devil had questions about his soul too, and he wanted to find all the answers. As if that would be an easy feat. 

[gar0uu]

soooo I did a thing.

[gar0uu]

adiiiiing i’m in love with inumaki🥺

Understandable, Ate Dani. No one can resist Inumaki <33

Click the picture for better quality! You may download them also <3333

send me your fave jjk or haikyuu character and i'll make a quick sketch of them :DDDD

[gar0uu]

a helpful passerby 

for @aonetakanobu-week day 4 (free day)!

[gar0uu]

hollyhock

(crop of june’s patreon illust)

twitter | ig | inprnt | patreon | store

[gar0uu]

keishin ukai but with his hair down 🧡

[gar0uu]

for twenty-year-olds who have never been loved

All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a lover’s sweater or “forgotten” it at home in your bedroom just so you would have an excuse to see them again. You have never even stood face-to-face with someone who makes your hands shake so hard it feels like they’re both having a separate anxiety attack.

This causes you much guilt and self-blame and sadness but above all, an overwhelming curiosity. Are you really that ugly, that unwanted, that uninteresting, that boring, that no one, absolutely no one, has ever looked at you like the only thing on earth?

The answer is no. The better answer is that someone out there, somewhere in the world, is “wondering what it’s like to meet someone like you,” and they have two decades worth of love stored in their veins like a shoot-‘em-up drug, and they’re just about ready to inject it into someone else’s bloodstream. All you have to do is roll up your sleeves and wait for it to happen.

At times you felt so lonely you could stand at the edge of a cliff with nothing beneath you but air and grass and a long, long way down, and you’d still feel emptier than that canyon itself. Maybe you even danced with yourself alone in your room a few times, arms outstretched around a ghost, pretending someone else’s hands were on your waist, someone else’s eyes boring into yours.

Or maybe you fell temporarily in love with strangers on public transportation, fell in love with anybody who so much as accidentally brushed your hand on the way past. For you, falling in love with dozens of people a day was a coping mechanism for not having anyone to love you in return. But people are not eggs and falling in love with a dozen of them does not mean your shell will remain uncracked. One day you’re going to hit the point where you’re so desperate for human contact that you’re going to snap in half and all your love will bleed out like egg yolk.

But someone out there is eating a bowl of Ramen noodles right now, or putting on slippers, or settling into bed. They are doing all the normal things that you’ve done in your own life. They are just like you. They have cellulite and extra fat in all the wrong places and goals and fears and doubts and bad handwriting.

The truth is that they are just like you, and being just like you, they’re looking for a lover too. They’re what you might call a soulmate.

They think they’re all alone in feeling the way they do, but you’re really both two halves of a whole.

And one day you’ll meet them, bump into them on the street, and your two halves will be put together, and you’ll make one.

[gar0uu]

yet another recent commission! i got a little experimental with the colors on this one ☆

(do not trace or repost my art to other sites)

[gar0uu]

it's always been you (namjoon)

"Like a child, I picture opening his skull, unspool­ing his brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down his thoughts. What are you thinking? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?"- Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn, 2014*

tw: mentions of murder, arguing, verbal abuse

With every insult he throws at me, I imagine a flower growing into his face.

"Annoying."

A lily crawls out of his mouth, as if trying to reach me, trying to save me from (his) my demise.

"Cry baby."

A Baby's Breath shoots out of his ear, it swaying back n' forth with the frantic movements of his head. Angry movements.

And then, and then, his face is nothing but a small garden; I hear his breathing, but he seems less alive now.

He is nothing but a face-garden, and I find my shoulders loosening.

The fragrance of the flowers calms me, yet makes me terrified. It's him. That fragrance is him.

Will I ever be free? I am not a gardener, you know.

°°°

"You're always doing this!" He yells like he has dreamed about it for days. Maybe he has.

"I'm not doing anything," I mumble. I've learned to lower my voice, as if I speak too loud I might break something in him. Or me.

"You've gotten so...sad."

He spits out the word like venom, and I feel it.

I laugh, a bitter thing, like darkness crawling out of my mouth, latching onto the air around us.

"You care enough to notice; I'm quite surprised."

He scoffs, folding his arms around him like he is protecting himself, from what? I don't know.

He's right. I am sad. I am more sad than I love him.

I take a deep breath, which makes my chest feel like a void. "I am too sad to love you, Namjoon."

The air around him changes immediately. His face melts from anger to sadness to confusion to sadness again. Then anger.

"What?" Disbelief graces his voice. "You can't...you can't just..."

I hear his ragged breathing, and the rage hovering around him.

"Say something! Say something, you fucking..."

This is the loudest he's been the whole argument, and I flinch.

"Fucking what? Fucking what?! Bitch? Slut? Cunt? Say what you really want to say, garçon!"

My whole body is hot; like a walking fire and my fingertips are numb. My eyes feel like they could fall out of my head at any moment, and I'd just be an eyeless-sad-thing. Angry thing.

"This whole relationship has been about your accomplishments! What about mine, huh? It's always me praising you, never the other way around," I say the words fast, as if I'm running out of time.

I stare at him, and his eyes are burning, dark, like the devil stands in his pupils, watching.

"What accomplishments?" There is pure malice in his voice. It's so there. Like it's an actual thing and not feeling.

The bad, bad part of me- the dark object growing inside my brain like a tumor, goes to...murder.

How dare he? All this time I've tried to love him through this night-time that is my brain. And all he's done is bully me, all he's done is get on to me on how sad I am.

His flower-face comes back into my mind. It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

My hands hurt, like I've held them in fists at all times.

"Namjoon, I've known you for...what, two years?" I smile and it hurts but, who cares.

"I know everything about you. We were in love. We were love itself. Where did that go?"

He shrugs, so nonchalantly, that the rage bubbles farther up my chest; any more farther, and it will fall out of my mouth.

I stare at him, waiting for him to say anything. When he doesn't, I say, "I've grown to hate you."

I hear his intake of breath, and the bad, bad part of me wants to laugh.

Instead I continue, "I didn't hate you at first, of course not. And it didn't come suddenly, like a spur of the moment thing, it grew. Like a poisonous bush in my chest, it grew. That makes it seem worse, doesn't it? That every single day, it grew an inch, while you were in bed next to me. Did you even notice, or were you too busy thinking of yourself?

"Your presence felt like a thing I had to endure, to power through. Love isn't that. You know it.

"So as this poisonous bush grew, it stabbed the insides of myself, and I bled every night while you were asleep. And you woke up, thinking of yourself, you went to sleep thinking of yourself. So you never noticed the blood pooling out of me. The sadness you see, it's not me. It's not my brain, or my circumstances, nor am I ungrateful like you claim. It's you."

You know how in the romance books they say, "it's you. It's always been you." It's quite romantic, isn't it? I agreed at first. Namjoon made me happy. It was him.

And then, it was him. Not in an 'I've always loved you' way, but in 'I've always despised you' way.

We were love itself, now we are hate itself.

~~~

*this quote isn't the exact quote but it's similar. also go read gone girl, it's amazing.

this is also nothing I've ever written like b4 so um I hope you guys like it 🫂

[gar0uu]

/softly but with feeling/ I love you, you dumb sweaty child 💥💥💥

[gar0uu]

it's always been you (namjoon)

"Like a child, I picture opening his skull, unspool­ing his brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down his thoughts. What are you thinking? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do?"- Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn, 2014*

tw: mentions of murder, arguing, verbal abuse

With every insult he throws at me, I imagine a flower growing into his face.

"Annoying."

A lily crawls out of his mouth, as if trying to reach me, trying to save me from (his) my demise.

"Cry baby."

A Baby's Breath shoots out of his ear, it swaying back n' forth with the frantic movements of his head. Angry movements.

And then, and then, his face is nothing but a small garden; I hear his breathing, but he seems less alive now.

He is nothing but a face-garden, and I find my shoulders loosening.

The fragrance of the flowers calms me, yet makes me terrified. It's him. That fragrance is him.

Will I ever be free? I am not a gardener, you know.

°°°

"You're always doing this!" He yells like he has dreamed about it for days. Maybe he has.

"I'm not doing anything," I mumble. I've learned to lower my voice, as if I speak too loud I might break something in him. Or me.

"You've gotten so...sad."

He spits out the word like venom, and I feel it.

I laugh, a bitter thing, like darkness crawling out of my mouth, latching onto the air around us.

"You care enough to notice; I'm quite surprised."

He scoffs, folding his arms around him like he is protecting himself, from what? I don't know.

He's right. I am sad. I am more sad than I love him.

I take a deep breath, which makes my chest feel like a void. "I am too sad to love you, Namjoon."

The air around him changes immediately. His face melts from anger to sadness to confusion to sadness again. Then anger.

"What?" Disbelief graces his voice. "You can't...you can't just..."

I hear his ragged breathing, and the rage hovering around him.

"Say something! Say something, you fucking..."

This is the loudest he's been the whole argument, and I flinch.

"Fucking what? Fucking what?! Bitch? Slut? Cunt? Say what you really want to say, garçon!"

My whole body is hot; like a walking fire and my fingertips are numb. My eyes feel like they could fall out of my head at any moment, and I'd just be an eyeless-sad-thing. Angry thing.

"This whole relationship has been about your accomplishments! What about mine, huh? It's always me praising you, never the other way around," I say the words fast, as if I'm running out of time.

I stare at him, and his eyes are burning, dark, like the devil stands in his pupils, watching.

"What accomplishments?" There is pure malice in his voice. It's so there. Like it's an actual thing and not feeling.

The bad, bad part of me- the dark object growing inside my brain like a tumor, goes to...murder.

How dare he? All this time I've tried to love him through this night-time that is my brain. And all he's done is bully me, all he's done is get on to me on how sad I am.

His flower-face comes back into my mind. It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

My hands hurt, like I've held them in fists at all times.

"Namjoon, I've known you for...what, two years?" I smile and it hurts but, who cares.

"I know everything about you. We were in love. We were love itself. Where did that go?"

He shrugs, so nonchalantly, that the rage bubbles farther up my chest; any more farther, and it will fall out of my mouth.

I stare at him, waiting for him to say anything. When he doesn't, I say, "I've grown to hate you."

I hear his intake of breath, and the bad, bad part of me wants to laugh.

Instead I continue, "I didn't hate you at first, of course not. And it didn't come suddenly, like a spur of the moment thing, it grew. Like a poisonous bush in my chest, it grew. That makes it seem worse, doesn't it? That every single day, it grew an inch, while you were in bed next to me. Did you even notice, or were you too busy thinking of yourself?

"Your presence felt like a thing I had to endure, to power through. Love isn't that. You know it.

"So as this poisonous bush grew, it stabbed the insides of myself, and I bled every night while you were asleep. And you woke up, thinking of yourself, you went to sleep thinking of yourself. So you never noticed the blood pooling out of me. The sadness you see, it's not me. It's not my brain, or my circumstances, nor am I ungrateful like you claim. It's you."

You know how in the romance books they say, "it's you. It's always been you." It's quite romantic, isn't it? I agreed at first. Namjoon made me happy. It was him.

And then, it was him. Not in an 'I've always loved you' way, but in 'I've always despised you' way.

We were love itself, now we are hate itself.

~~~

*this quote isn't the exact quote but it's similar. also go read gone girl, it's amazing.

this is also nothing I've ever written like b4 so um I hope you guys like it 🫂

[gar0uu]

a fashion ICON