Unless it's mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it's a waste of time.
There are too many mediocre things in life and LOVE shouldn't be one of them.
✨manifesting a fairytale love🩷🤲🏻
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Eternal Love, Frank Kunert Photography
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Satoru & Suguru in chapter 236
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doomed by the narrative? no, no, tortured by the narrative. the narrative hates Sam Winchester, the narrative wants Sam Winchester dead but Dean Winchester, the audience and the antithesis to the narrative, does not want him to be anything but alive. in fact, the story is only a story if Sam is in it.
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🍉SIGNUPS FOR CDRAMA GOTCHA FOR GAZA CREATORS NOW OPEN!🍉
We are a fundraiser event dedicated to creating fanworks in exchange for donations to the people of Palestine. Creator signup is now open for fanfic authors, fanartists, vid makers, and graphics/gif creators.
Once creator signups close, for small donations of at least 5.00-8.00 USD to Palestinian direct aid organizations, you will be able to receive a fanwork from one of these talented creators
CREATOR SIGNUPS OPEN: March 30th, 2024 to April 14, 2024
All creators welcome! Whether you can create for three or one hundred fandoms, we'd love to see you on board. Fanartists, fic writers, fanvid creators, and gif/graphic creators can sign up.
Please visit our CARRD HERE for more information on both how to create and how to donate.
Then, if you are a creator, go sign up here.
You can also follow our twitter here.
Inspiration is @SVSSSAction, @TGCFAction , and @MDZSaction on twitter.
We greatly appreciate you promoting our project, even if you can't participate yourself. As this is a multi-fandom event, we need all the plugging we can get. Thank you!!
-Cdrama Action Team
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Sometimes, when Joe turns his face, when the light catches the bridge of his nose and he smiles at someone—the bartender; the vendor, the barista; Nile—Nicky sees in him the man he once was and has ever been and his stomach falls away and he loves as furiously and madly as he has ever done. It’s effervescent, this feeling, this dizzying, heart-speeding love that he feels, and it sweeps through his limbs until his fingertips tingle, until he feels it in the arches of his feet and behind his ears, beating a tempest beneath the skin at his wrists. It consumes him, this love, like fire, like rain, like the wind from the north and the haze of sunrise, and he breathes it in, exhales it, delights in the way it spins through his blood and reminds him he once was thirty-one and falling, falling, falling, desperate and needy and shot through with grace. He has felt this love in the evening and morning, in the desert, by the shore, beneath the lifting boughs of great green trees, and he feels it now, with the pavement beneath his shoes, and it bubbles up as laughter, as a great, glad smile. His heart beats quicker, and happiness curls within his chest, and the greater joy is that Joe turns and smiles at him again and again and takes the drink, the bread, the coffee, the book and reaches with his other hand to press his palm against palm, to link their fingers, to tug Nicky forward into a warm, welcome kiss.
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