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art-has-died · 9 months

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I’m twenty, and I haven’t said I love you in years.

Sometimes, I doubt I would even recognise the words if they were to pass my lips, past the fences of my teeth and the trenches under my tongue.

I have written them, thought, and felt them. I have poured them in cups of coffee like an artist would their soul into their work. I have scribbled them in the margins of school notes when my friends weren’t looking, so I could shape them like lazy doodles, and so they could reciprocate with a fond glare. I have baked them on birthdays and burnt them on Sundays, lit them up for Christmas and roared them at karaoke.

I’ve smiled them into pictures to put on my nightstand: I love you when I read, I love you when I dream, I love you when I can’t sleep. I love you when I dust, and my gaze falls upon the frame like it’s the first time it’s seeing it. Cleaning always felt nostalgic to me – not for the throwing away as much as for the nurturing of what was and still is.

Here’s a receipt I got from our stop at a gas station in 2014. You’d gotten terrible coffee and I made fun of you for it, so you’d thrown the crumpled paper at me. I’ve never told you, but I kept it in my pocket like a heart and put it away in the drawer as if it were a bin. I’ll never make any use of it, and I won’t ever remember it – but I think that’s exactly why we clean: so we can look back at everything we don’t need, choose to keep the least useful things, and have it mean so much we don’t dare put it in speech.

Once, I put down the broom and sank to the floor with exhaustion. It was still dirty, and I’d barely done anything but sweep around the nightstand. Crumbs of sleeplessness still hid in the shadow on its left, in the rift between it and the bed, right where I always dropped my rest. As I sat there, my eyes slipped back to the pictures and the disbowelled chest, and I thought: what a grave temple, what a grave. My memories lie forgotten like the dead, my duster their flowers.

At the time, the idea felt grim to me, and I almost shamed it away, guilty. But I’m twenty, and I love so ardently, I might die for it. Too old to burn with anger, too young to have completely given up. Emotions twist under my skin like worms in too alive a soil: decaying wild, suffocating life. Nothing breathes under here, but rot has made the trees mad with verdancy. And just like this oxymoron of a forest, I pray my love to death and frame it above the casket of its rests, a poem in lieu of eulogy.

Some days, it feels like everything I do means I love you. Waking up to make breakfast, staying up late to wait, not killing myself. And sometimes, I want to cry with loneliness because it seems like no one ever says it back.

But I don’t either.

We’ve turned twenty, and no one has said I love you in years.

-- H.

#poetry #original poem #writing #writeblr #poetryblr #loneliness #depression #henry writes.

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whimsifae · 6 months

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the five homoerotic love languages:

- intimate stabbing

- outright obsession

- confused pining

- "no one knows me like you do"

- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows

#the secret history #henry winter #writing #dead poets society #dark academia #writeblr #obsessive love #dark romanticism #marauders

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resqectable · 2 months

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One of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.

Dr. Henry Cloud

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thehopefulquotes · 6 months

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One of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.

Dr. Henry Cloud

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macksartblock · 5 months

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So I actually forgot to draw anything yesterday for my birthday bc I rewatched Catching Fire so uhhh

Unfinished small dads and fathers I wish to shove off a building

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #henry oak #henry oak garcia #barry oak #glenn close dndads #bill close #I did write it Bear’ry on his clothes bc of the animal theme though so yeah #this page was supposed to have all the s1 dads on it but then I got distracted with pretty much everything going on in s2 rn lol #someone said my Henry design had Link LOZ vibes and I’ve never played those games but honestly I think I played more into that here lmao #my artwork

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m1ssnovember · 2 months

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loopnoid · 24 days

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more mash nonsense i've been accumulating. yes i can draw things that are not bj and hawkeye sometimes. that being said nsfw(?) beejhawk under the cut

#tho im not gonna lie most of these were requests for friends/thank you sketches etc. sorry for being beejhawkpilled 😔#mash #m.a.s.h #m*a*s*h #beejhawk #bj hunnicutt #hawkeye pierce #trapper mcintyre #margaret houlihan #maxwell klinger #father mulcahy #NOT writing down his full name. we're not close like that.#henry blake #and his asscrack

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darklesmylove · 1 month

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enemies to lovers be like

#back from the dead for this post #enemies to lovers #writing #reading #jurdan #darklina #alarkling #shadow and bone #six of crows #the cruel prince #the stolen heir #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #shatter me #stalking jack the ripper #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #ao3

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stay-close · 3 months

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Don't look away. Look straight at everything. Look it all in the eye, good and bad.

Henry Miller

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thoughtkick · 7 months

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Don't look away. Look straight at everything. Look it all in the eye, good and bad.

Henry Miller

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farreloalex · 2 days

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#ora basta #troll #sexy henry #gin writes #adriana lima #airport #title card #pullip doll #pimp #y2kcore

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not2menotifitsyou · 1 year

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To be loved is to be changed (!!!!!!!!)

The Mountain Goats // Wendy Cope // @8-bitfiction // Eden Robinson // Ada Limon // Bleachers // Amparo Dávila // Octavio Paz // Vladimir Nabokov // Henry James

#mine #web weaving #writing #parallels #poetry #love #love changes you #to be loved is to be changed #WHEN I FEEL SAFE I CAN LOVE #vladimir nabokov #the mountain goats #wendy cope #ada limon #henry james

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sherlocksoft · 10 months

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Send You To Sleep Satisfied

Geralt x reader drabble

Summary: Geralt can’t sleep. Rather than settling for a restless a night, you offer an easy (and rather more pleasurable) solution.

Author’s notes: This is set at no specific time and has no particular context. I just wanted to give Geralt some comfort. Y’know, in a sexy way.

Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, handjob, gn!reader, exhausted and needy Geralt, extra lil gif at the end 🖤

A large hand slid roughly over your stomach followed by a heavy, muscular arm snaking around your waist and dragging you swiftly backwards.

‘Geralt!’ you exclaimed, your heart racing before you realised it was him, ‘I was almost asleep! You startled me-’

‘M’sorry,’ came his muffled reply, his handsome nose already buried deep in your hair, nuzzling against the nape of your neck. He breathed you in, holding you close and sighing deeply. ‘Can’t sleep.’

Steadying your breath, you shifted within his firm embrace, smiling at the grunt of disapproval you elicited by taking away the comfort of your hair and your back pressed flush to his broad chest.

Another comfort soon replaced this, though.

‘I can help you with that,’ you cooed, watching with delight as his heavily lidded eyes slid shut at the warmth of your fingers slipping past the waistband his tight trousers.

A whispered little ‘Oh-’ slipped from between his pretty parted lips. ‘You… mmh… you don’t need to-’ It was hardly a protest, his voice heavy with lack of sleep yet laced with obvious desire.

You stilled then, his erection steadily growing harder against your now unmoving palm.

His eyes opened, sharp beneath a sudden frown. ‘You don’t need to, but… since you’ve started…’ A bead of precum oozed from his tip causing a whine to escape his throat before he could stop it. His eyes clenched tight shut in shame. ‘Don’t stop?’

A knowing smirk pulled at your lips. Geralt never could resist the promise of a good orgasm when the opportunity presented itself at such a perfect moment as this.

He was too tired to fuck. This, you knew. But you could pleasure him to sleep as he had done for you countless times, his elegant fingers or clever tongue or thick cock working their magic to soothe your exhausted body and allow your tired mind to rest.

Your fingers curled loosely around his length, pumping lazily to begin with, massaging his cock with a hint of tenderness that had him melting.

‘Shh, Geralt, focus on my touch. Float away on the sensation of your pleasure… let me send you to sleep satisfied, relaxed….’ you breathed, easing his tension away with your voice as much as your hand.

His strong fingers grasped at your arm, fingertips driving harder into your flesh as you wanked him faster. You hoped he’d leave bruises, marks you could show him tomorrow that might make him blush. He rarely blushed, but when a flush of crimson powdered his cheeks, it was certainly a pretty sight.

His hips began to rock in time to meet your movements and his breath grew heavy, interspersed with blissful moans. His cock throbbed inside your grip when your thumb swiped over the tip, collecting the thick offering of precum that had steadily built up there.

‘That’s it, I can feel it-’ you breathed, ‘let go.’

His forehead pressed to yours, breath hot and heavy and tingling against your cool lips as his muscles rapidly tensed, his toes curled and his back arched.

‘Fuck!’ he growled through gritted teeth as overwhelming surges of pleasure rushed through his core to bring about his release, and he repeated, in a much smaller voice as the rapture subsided, ‘… fuck…’

As his cock softened, sensitive with aftershocks, gently, you withdrew your hand and sealed your mouth to his.

‘We’ll bathe in the morning, love,’ you whispered with a smile against his lips, not caring a jot about the thick creamy rope that had made a mess of his trousers and stained your arm, sticky against your skin. ‘For now, sleep.’

Geralt grunted. The tell tale signs of sleep began to pull at his features as the rush of his climax fell away to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

He huffed, amused. ‘I’ve slept in worse conditions. Besides-’ a small yawn interrupted him, exhaustion and the bliss of post-orgasm haze slurring his speech slightly as he continued, slowly, ‘in the morning, before anything else… I will be busy… making you scream my name.’

And with that, the calming sound of his low snore took over; the heat that had pooled at your core content to remain there until morning. For now you watched him rest until you were dreaming yourself. You dreamed of him.

#not s f w 💀#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt smut #geralt comfort #geralt fic #henry cavill #sherlocksoft writes

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thehopefulquotes · 5 months

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Don't look away. Look straight at everything. Look it all in the eye, good and bad.

Henry Miller

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bebx · 5 months

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WATCH EM BURN

Jamie Campbell Bower x Henry Creel | 001 | Vecna

@twihs-blog

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north-noire · 4 months

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What are you going to eat for dinner, dad?

Drew this prompt between Henry and Charlie, with a bonus drabble! Think of it as a writing exercise for the AU itself (plus, I just found the prompt really lovely). I'm also trying to experiment with my art a little more!

Anyway, the full pentadrabble/writing I made for this prompt is under the cut!

--- Henry could hear Charlie talking behind him, her voice sounding curious. "What are you going to eat for dinner, dad?"

"Since winter is coming up again actually, I made your favorite soup." Henry replied warmly. He softly smiled as he stirred the ladle within the pot of soup he was cooking. He chuckled at the thought of her enjoying her favorite stew once again. It was the familiar feeling of fuzziness that came with nostalgia. He could still vaguely remember the times where Charlie came home from school feeling exhausted and drained from dealing with the day, only for her to perk up when she recognized the dinner Henry set on the table.

It felt warm and tender, like the soup he was making for her.

It didn't take long until Henry finally took a light taste of the soup he was making. He made sure it tasted just like how it used to be. He could still taste the familiar warm saltiness of the soup, and that was enough for him. He was sure that Charlie would like it too.

As he turned off the stove, he was already grabbing two plates near him to put them at the dinner table. "Well, dinner's ready."

Charlie chuckled in reply, but there was clearly a hint of sadness in her voice. "I really wish I could eat with you too, dad."

"W-what are you talking about, it's your fav--"

Then the realization hit Henry.

The reminder that she was just a soul confined within the Marionette felt so sudden, when Henry could've sworn that he was talking to Charlie - back to the person he used to know. Henry hated that he could still imagine Charlie herself just from her voice.

Charlie sounded distraught as she spoke to Henry again, almost ashamed with what she had said. "S-sorry, I appreciate that you made this all for me and everything, it's just that--"

"It's alright, Charlie, you shouldn't apologize," Henry assured her, trying to avoid showing any devastation in his tone. It hurt him to get reminded that she wasn't a person anymore, but at most, he appreciated the gentle reminder from her, even if it hurt to fully accept it all deep down.

As much as he'd rather see his own daughter's form rather than the Marionette itself, the last thing he wanted was for Charlie to feel bad for what had happened to her.

At the end of the day, she was still his daughter, and he loved her all the same.

As he put back one of the plates he was holding back in the cupboard, he hastily sat down on the table beside his daughter. He looked at Charlie and put a hand on her shoulder.

Henry tried to smile at her. "How about we go do something after this? Something we can do together."

Charlie's expression softened. "…yes. I'd love that."

#hidden hands au #fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's fanart #henry emily #charlie emily #charlotte emily #fnaf henry emily #fnaf charlie emily #fnaf charlotte emily #fnaf marionette #fnaf puppet #fanart #writing #my art

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