SomeoneToDieFor

Getting married and we're struggling lol! If anyone feels generous to donate with our registery... 
          
          https://www.amazon.com/wedding/registry/CYJLK2IJPBN
          
          Living my wattpad fanfiction IRL lol! ILY! 

What the hell? Every draft in my wattpad is gone... What happened?.

Hi! I have an etsy! If anyone cares to check it out: 
          Etsy: Ghoulish Glows 
          Tiktok: ghoulishglows 
          Instagram: Ghoulish glows
          

HELLO!!! I cant believe it's been 2 years since my first comment here!! But ive came back as I re-read corpse paint!! Just as good as I remember it being! Will you ever continue it again? <3

New chapter of Ride The Lightning is out! It's a lil longer than usual so buckle up

Hi! Will you ever update Life Eternal? I love that 

Some would say that this was true loyalty, true love even. To be honest, I don't know what to call it myself. Perhaps a trap? A game of chess that I lose time and time again? A game in which you always make the, ever changing, rules? I always find myself questioning. It's only when the red stove kettle begins to simmer, that I realize how truly stupid I am. 
          I know it's wrong. I know it's not worth it. Yet the pain between us is far greater than the pain without us. I feel afraid to say something, I know it'll always end badly if I do. So, instead, I sip my tea as an anxious coping mechanism, pretending I can bury my face in the warm bliss of the cup as some sort of escape from reality. I slurp down the liquid thats always too hot, it burns my tongue and I always await for more, for a refill, as if it could fill the need for the reassurance that I never get from you. 
          All these words I want to say begin to swarm as I drink my tea. Sometimes I feel myself heat up, much like the hot kettle on the stove, and I get the courage to meet your cold eyes. I brace myself, I take a deep breath, I ignore the race of my pounding heart and the quiver of my lips. The blood in my veins feels hot. The kettle boils and hisses violently, it's an unbearable sound to my ears and I get this instant rush of adrenaline that taunts me, makes me feel like I can finally do it. I can finally leave, yell at you, make you see my worth. The kettle hisses louder and louder and louder. I open my mouth to speak, to scream and then- 
          Nothing. 
          No words could ever fall, despite the swarm of them in my head and the pounding headache that forms when I push back my tears and heartache. 
          You smile and get up to pour me another cup of tea. I'm left there alone momentarily wondering to myself 'What if we had just let the water boil over instead? '
          

The amount of vast and distasteful unspoken words between us could write a book or even our movie. We'd sit across from each other at the table, the kettle on the stove, staring at each other with unblinking eyes that are foggy and fixated, puffy from nights of crying or concealing rage. The silence between us is always dreadful despite the forced smiles on our faces. 
          It's been years of this. Years of ultimatums, years of crying, years of lying, years of manipulation and the years between our ages. I'm always the one to say sorry. Though, we both know it should be coming from your lips. I'm the one who's up late at night with worry, with suffering, with flash backs of what's been done to my brain. While you sleep peacefully, blindly or, perhaps, uncaring to my crippling state. 
          Still, here we are. 
          (Follow up for pt. 2) 

"The gown made Vicky look like one of those gorgeous stone statues and emphasized her body, she was in complete glorification before him. Kirk felt like a man of prayer and Vicky had become his faith, his goddess, and his church all in one full glance. He wanted nothing more than to kneel at her will and worship her."

New chapter of Ride The Lightning (Kirk Hammett) is out!