sunnyspeaches - Tumblr blog

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Kinda feel like there's some untapped meme/reaction image potential from old horror movie trailers...

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SADIE SINK photographed by Damon Baker (September 2023)

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Sarah Fier’s Cursed Hand

— by Houston Sharp

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The Hazbin Hotel Valentine cards are WILD!

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

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2000s valentines nostalgia

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This is how I picture May and April's vibe in my May-hem au btw

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YOU should be at the club I should be in the arms of a fictional character

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A match made in hell ♥️

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my sweet bunny was such a trooper during that 10 hour long car ride home. i’d poke my fingers through the cage and pet between her ears, and tell her all my musings of my plans for the chapter ahead. at our new home i carved out a special corner of my bedroom just for her, complete with soft new blankets and fresh hay, but i was saving her christmas presents for the morning. i was able to hold her tight and pepper her in what i couldn’t know would be those last few kisses as i allowed my little siblings to meet her and pet her fur and murmur sweet words. i set up her leaf-shaped water dish, toys, a box for her to play around in, and i left the light on and closed the door. she was comfortable up until the end, i think. she knew she was loved. unfortunately, that wasn’t enough. i take solace in the thought that maybe she was meant to bring me safely home; and when the journey was over, so was hers. thank you, pumpkin. i’m sorry.

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“can i kiss you?”

you were not made to do things messy. you were not built for mistakes; to keep trying again and again—if it’s wrong the first time, it will never be right. you don’t know how to try with someone. not like this.

you are volatile. you are dangerous. the push and pull of the tide resides in your chest; your father’s anger and your mother’s spite. your emotions quick to surge, quick to bite, quick to hurt. (quick to run away.)

their hand is warm in your palm. warm and soft and so easily breakable. the last beautiful thing you held was crushed in a blurry panic. you hold them gently. so gently. you were not made to be gentle.

their eyes are warm and dark and pleading and you have never seen anything so bright and beautiful. (it burns.)

you will inevitably hurt them. you were not meant to be looked at like this, like a treasure, a comfort. your hand trembles in theirs.

it was not supposed to happen this way. you were never meant to find someone who actually stayed. someone so perfect. someone bathed in light.

they refused to leave. you couldn’t bear it if they did, even if you don’t deserve them. they plant their light somewhere deep in your soul.

you would rather self-destruct than destroy them.

your eyes are reflected in theirs. yours are desperate, pleading, scared. still, you like your eyes better, reflected in theirs. (the burning subsides.)

they hold your hand just as gently. as if they’re afraid to shatter you, as much as you fear shattering them.

they breathe with the rise and fall of your chest, move with the push and pull of your tide. they listen to your father’s anger, break through your mother’s spite, catch you if you try to run.

you can’t deny them anything. even if it is messy and dangerous and wild and must be tried over and over again. you can’t deny them anything.

“please do.”

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“How’s your WIP going?”

"Have you made any progress?”

“How close are you to being done?”

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“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

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{Quotes by nizariat / William Wordsworth}

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me if meowing was a sin tbh

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love this running gag. is he ok

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