elliottparkerrr

Latest Posts by elliottparkerrr

reblog to blow up an ableist

okay but like the inside of a washing machine sounds like it would be a fun place to hang out

The person reblogging this from you is rooting for you to have a happy, healthy, and successfull 2023.

They may also be trying to put you in a washing machine.

i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands

beautiful women covered in blood. you agree. reblog.

Tips for baby witches, lazy witches, tired witches, or any witch really:

Enchant your morning cup of tea/coffee

Match the colours of your makeup to your intentions for the day

Visualise the water washing away all the negativity when you shower

Enchant your nail polish (bonus: match the colour to the intention, black for protection, red for love, green for prosperity, etc)

Say your affirmations (for clear skin, fading scars, reducing dullness, etc) when doing your skincare

Charge your perfume with the energy you wish to attract

When tying your shoes, visualise them symbolically protecting you from tripping and “falling” into places and situations that disturb your peace

Use music to your advantage, listen to songs that match your intentions, or alternatively, use music as a tool for divination

Some witches veil to keep their energy from draining and to protect them from others’ emotions, but a beanie works too

If you wear glasses, use them as a tool so that they help you “see clearly”

Put your moisturiser on in the shape of a sigil before massaging it in

Child’s pose is always there for you, use it when you need it (alleviates stress and anxiety, helps clear the mind, releases tension in the back, helps to steady breathing, is overall great for grounding, etc)

Visualise the A+ (on your report card/on the paper after it’s been graded/etc) right before beginning to solve your test/exam, it also helps if you can draw a sigil somewhere on the paper, or trace it on the paper with your finger

When shaving, visualise any energy buildup being shaved off as well

If you play the guitar, draw a sigil on your plectrum/pick for an added boost (this works with other instruments too)

Do not litter out of respect for nature and its spirits

Feel free to add more things onto the list

When you’re just starting out, or even when you’re just too drained to practice your craft like you used to, it can feel like there isn’t enough magic in your life. This is your daily reminder that a lot of the time, the only difference between routine and magick is intent.

honestly same tho

how to deal with trauma, according to the dreamSMP:

your own son forced you to kill him? blow up a country

feeling betrayed and used? blow up a country

had the country you worked so hard on blown up and almost got murdered right in front of your best friends eyes? nukes

died and literally went to hell and people, specifically someone who you used to consider your best friend, still overlook you and refuse to listen to you? child murder

not over your dead abusive ex? invent capitalism so you can get everyone addicted to gambling

best friends betrayed you and forced you into a small box where you were forced to give up all of your valuables and eat your own flesh? give yourself up entirely to your work to the point where you’re willing to hurt the people you care about the most because of it

boyfriend cheated on you and broke your heart? sacrifice your free will to a mind controlling parasite

best friend has become corrupted beyond recognition and no matter what you do to try and get him back to normal, nothing works and no one will help you? sacrifice your free will to a mind controlling parasite

bored? sacrifice your free will to a mind controlling parasite

whatever the fuck tommyinnit is doing

it’s just so

the most scuffed dsmp alignment chart

@lunaflower​‘s citizen pov memes made me lose it so here’s a couple that i made

To Adora, From Elliott

To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking up all those far away dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all

All those years you spent taking care of everyone else Watching your siblings,  making sure that they had the childhood you never had. Giving up on all those dreams you had made for yourself Handing them over to your siblings,  thinking that maybe they could let them grow. Planning on becoming their superhero, Ready to save their day, Shielding them from all the screaming, The sharp words being thrown like knives. Giving them a haven from the flying fists and broken doors.

But darling I promise you Your life will not have been wasted. I will following your footsteps saving the kids  from those monsters that lurk around them. I will keep themself, and make sure they grow

Remember all those nights you would make promises Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong

Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together

you were right when you said you’d never see twenty-seven You weren’t even able to see yourself as a teenager The image always seemed so far off, Just out of reach  a dream you always had each night but always leaving in the morning light Leaving you with just tiny pieces of it.

You had been off by a few years though There was never a sweet sixteen for you No birthday presents and a new car. You had been long gone before that.

You had barely seen fourteen, Eighth grade was your last.  But I think you knew that. I think you had come to terms, Knowing that you would die soon. But that’s how you were always giving, giving, and giving. So I guess it wasn’t that big of a surprise.

What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, That I was able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?

Because for me to make it, You had to die, I had to kill every part of you. I had to be the one to hold that pillow over your head, I still have the scars from those scratches you gave me. I carry them like war paint, showing the world how I was born.

I had to burn that name you carried for years,  Burning it to ashes, spreading them to the world. The name you carried on your back like a shield or a burden Depending on how you looked at it.

I cut off those beautiful brown locks that you loved. Those curls littered the floor of the bathroom,  while chopped them off with some old kitchen shears. That beautiful brown color was bleached and turned any color besides that natural tone.

Your skin that was then envy of your family I covered in scars and marks, making it match the way we both had felt. Making your family no longer love it, turning it into something they no longer wanted to see.

I took the breasts that you had always hoped for, And had chopped them off, leaving your chest barren and scarred making it easier for me to live, no longer have those things as a reminder as to who you used to be, while it had made you cry out in shame, for you had lost the things you had been hoping would make you feel as if you belonged in your skin.

but my dear adora, I hope you realize that nothing I had done to this body, that was once yours, was in malice or hatred.  it was just something I had needed to do, for me to live happily. please remember I’ll love you forever, my little girl of grey. rest well knowing will live this for the both of us, taking those chances you never did.

always and forever, Elliott Mars Parker.

commissions sheet!

hi, here's the deal: i'm a young mixed muslim with chronic anemia taking care of a kid, along with being in intensive treatment 20h a week. i literally don't have the time to get a job of any kind. so i'm opening commissions!

starting at sketches, lined is +$5, flat color is +$10, and shaded/lineless is +$20.

here's some more examples of my art!

i'll also be doing $10 traditional sketches like this:

i have the right to refuse any request, and please remember that i am a minor!

i'll only be accepting p*ypal and vnmo for now, sorry for inconvenience.

PM me for more info if you're interested, and reblogs are appreciated!

update: i've been discharged from intensive, but i'm still looking for a job, thanks for all the reblogs!

Take this body I'm imprisoned in,

This prison of flesh and fat

encasing me in something that feels so foreign

these breasts, that still haunt me

always stuck on my chest

reminding me no matter what

That this prison I live in is still female.

Take this skin I wear.

That's not light enough for it to be white.

but too white to be black

this skin that’s made of nightmares and scars

reminding me of all these nightmares, I've lived through.

Take these hands that are so rough and cracked.

Never to be soft enough for any of my lovers

where these jagged nails

are torn enough to rip and tear my cracked skin

Take my hair that’s too white.

To hold these curls of my ancestors

but still too black for my mother's beautiful red locks

take my voice.

That still shakes and cracks at the words,

I've had trapped in my throat.

Burning it raw and ragged

Making it so any words that I still manage to speak

are caked in the blood and pain

of the effort, it took to let me free.

WW111 by grandson is the perfect song to describe c!tommy. the lyrics of the song describe war from the point of view from a young kid, it really screams tommy, who throughout the canonical story is still just a kid. the parallels are astounding. tommy is just a kid and has gone through so much. idk this is just a brain dump. /dsmp/rp

Don't think about Foolish sacrificing himself for Eret.

Don't think about Sam and Ponk

Don't think about Puffy loosing both her sons once.

Don't think about Bad inviting Sapnap to the banquet.

Don't think about the banquet being just like the Manburg Festival.

if today was my last

If today was my last How would I spend it? would I take in all the little things, gathering all those little details that I have always missed, my head has always been too full of all these things that keep me up at night. Or would I still just float through it all Still just a shell of the kid I once was, all the vibrancy and wonder having left years ago.

Would I go to the library? to collect a few last lines Letting them live on the tip of my tongue. only to set them free with my last breath. letting the feeling of ink on the page, be the last thing my fingertips will feel. the smell of paper and secrets, invading my senses and welcoming me home at last.

Would I go to the school that has hallways I have haunted? having drifted through them, my eyes empty and my brain always too full with all those thoughts. stopping in the classes to whisper a few final goodbyes even though nobody would notice or hear me pausing the disorder and energy in those hallways, for just a few moments, finally letting myself take it all in.

would I go to the forest wherein the deepest part I could lie on its soft grass floor, in the utter calm of it letting my lungs finally breathe in the crisp air, the feeling of its coldness expanding within them. closing my eyes for the last time, finally letting myself feel at peace and safe, hearing the bird's singing floating around me, their cries being the last thing I will ever hear.

My last words will be uttered so softly that not even the wind would hear them, when they escape this prison of my mind, floating away with my final exhale. My last breath will flow out feeling free for the first time, escaping into the world seeing it all.

child of grey

My father was of ebony. My mother of ivory I am the child of grey. Not enough ebony to be of my father To little ivory to be with my mother

My heart was of half-ice. A cold so unfeeling So a cold almost to the point of burning, never enough feeling to care my head half of snakes calculating and cruel always planning and waiting for the perfect moment to strike

My heart is made of half gold. Tender and caring beautiful and full of love, perfect to suit you my head half made of fire burning hot, always craving for something to fuel it unpredictable and starving for its next game

I am the child of grey. With the head of flame and scales calculating and unpredictable, Ready to strike and always to keep you on edge. And my heart of ice and gold blinding you with its beauty, while slowing killing you with its burning ice

i love you

I have loved you since We were young. barely old enough to even understand what love even was. the feeling of pure and utter devotion I had felt for you before I fully realized How much love would ruin me. How much it would kill me Tearing me apart, never letting me go Stealing away my heart, never giving it back

be proud

You tell me to SPEAK UP. To be "proud of my words" Let them out into the world. Stand behind them, ready to defend them with my life. And my entire being and soul

but how am I supposed to be "proud" of my words when I haven't even learned how to be proud of my self

how am I supposed to be "proud" Of these words I say. When I've learned that they don't even matter They get shot down and ignored. Before they even got the chance to be spoken.

How am I supposed to be "proud" when I've seen how you react To the thoughts, I've put out. Putting my heart and soul into them and then getting to watch you kill them

to the sea

Take me to the sea. Where the air is crisp, and the smell of salt clings to it. Where the winds pull in the sound of the waves to the shore where I can finally hear them calling my name begging me to join them begging me to follow them into the deepest depths

Take me to the cliffs. where I can see the whole world in front of me with the deep sapphire sea stretching out to the horizon where it finally ends on the cliffs where the winds whip around me whispering those words of encouragement beckoning me to the edge telling me to take those last few steps To let those jagged rocks at the bottom welcome me home.

Take me to the forest. Where the trees swallow all the light leaving only the darkness to call my name inviting me to explore The air seems to be alive, swirling around me. Calling to me telling me to rest coaxing me to let the darkness and all the creatures in To let them devour me, control me. To guide me and welcome me home

haunted

I can still feel your fingers drifting down my skin as I still sit here after what seems like hours later they crawl down my neck, and back up my arms, through my hair. While your words, echo in through my ears with subtle warnings and orders no to be crossed.

dear adora, from elliott

To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking and dreaming up all those far away hopes and dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all

All those late nights Planning on how you would save the day Becoming that perfect superhero Swooping in to rescue everyone, Saving all the kittens from trees, Putting out fires Freeing your family from that living nightmare they would never wake from

Remember all those promises you would use to make Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong

Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together

What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, Being able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?

I guess you had been right when you thought you wouldn’t make it For me to make it, you had to die That I had to kill everything that you were Stealing away your name Cutting off those long curly locks, everyone had adored scarring that beautiful skin, that used to be your pride and joy

mama don’t you know

Mama, don’t you know your little baby is sitting in their room? Crying their eyes out screaming for help Screaming for you to help them Begging for you to love them for who they are

Mama, can’t you see the way they're pleading? How their pleading for you to love them For you to finally tell them they're good enough For you to please noticed this once how much they need you.

Mama, do you ignore the blank stares and the emptiness? The way they wear barcodes on their body       How no matter how much they try, they can't get you to love them

Mama, do you ignore all the blood and tears? Pretending you don't hear them crying out at night Acting like you don't notice the blood and bandages.

Mama do you spend your days looking for new ways to hurt them? You filled their heart with all your spite and hatred. Poisoning your little baby before they had a chance to grow Making them believe they were a weed Never let them be able to believe in anything else.

the bathroom

Smoke flows from my cracked and bloody lips the dingy bathroom lights flicker above me a low buzz echos through the room my reflection stares back at me a sly smirk gracing its lips I can almost hear its laugh echoing in my head. The cold porcelain of the sink pulsing against the rising heat of my hands dirt and grime caked on to the counter and mirror the buzzing of the lights mixes with the pounding of my head Voices and conversations outside the door seem to grow in volume. pounding against my eardrums All the noise seems to be surrounding me. Building up and building up my reflections laughter ringing in my ears the lights buzzing and flickering The mirror starts cracking. Sounds of glass falling and shattering mix with the symphony of noise The class finally shatters falling all around me. Knocking on the door starts. The pounding and shaking of the door mixes with the calls of my name It sounds like I'm underwater. The door and the voice feeling so far away while I'm sinking farther down in my head finally, I snap back I'm in the bathroom. the mirrors still intact no longer shattered lights buzzing no longer deafening My fingers loosen their grip on the sink. The reflection no longer laughing and taunting My legs start working. Uprooting themselves from the floor the sound of my footsteps echo against the walls

side show mirrors

You call me an attention whore.  Only because my heart screams out for any type of love  something you never gave  look me in the eyes.  And tell me. "I'm always craving attention."  All I could do was Laugh.  what you call craving attention I  call a cry for help.  Haven't you noticed that?  You never taught me.  how to ask for help

Anger feels like a sharp green. It lives in the eye of a snake ready to strike. Sharpening its tongue using it as a knife Ready to lash out and wound. Anger is locked in the eyes. Constantly watching and waiting to attack

Yellow is the color of safety. It warms like the sun's rays. Surrounding me. Being a beacon in the dark It's soft and shining in contrast, to angers hard sharpness Safety is free to roam. It finds those in need and makes them safe.

Fear is the darkest blue of the ocean. Primal, cold and harsh Running parallel to anger. Fear stalks its prey, Watching and waiting to strike. never hesitating, always ready. Waiting to cover you in its shallow depths pulling you under like a riptide Devouring you in its purest form

my anger

my anger is a cigarette with every hit, it pulls me in the rage fills my lungs like smoke killing me a little each time disdain exhaling like smoke disgust clinging like the smell of stale  cigarette contempt lingers in my mouth and on my tongue like the bitterness of menthol repulsion circling around the air, smothering  those around me like the smoke

her cravings

The girl craved depravity. She loved it in her twisted way. Loved how it made her feel The way it felt as the darkness consumed her. How it crept through her veins stealing its way into her heart making it's self its own little home inside her heart. Whispering their tales of the demented and cursed screaming the depths of its madness into her heart. Corrupting her, molding her, stealing her Twisting her into a demented shell of her once pure self.

darling

Darling, I see your eyes sparkle with the light of a thousand stars  They shine light in my darkest night.  Darling, I see the gold in your veins  It glows with the ichor of our old gods.  Dripping down your fingertips From the gashes,  you made into them.  Darling, I see the night sky in your hair  the way it shines and moves with the utter darkness of the stars  darling, I see the sea in your mind  the way your mood changes like the tides  You rage like the sea.  And you hold your desire like the sea holds the creatures.  

take me

Take my lungs. watch me as I slowly.  Gasp for breath.  Have me begging for air.  while I slowly start to suffocate  my lungs start to cave 

Take my bones.  replace them with glass.  watch me as I shatter and break.  look at the crystal stained crimson  step on me while I'm already breaking  listen to the music of my whimpers of pain,  mixing with the sound of shattering glass