Hello there!
It's me Simi~ <3
And I created a fan art blog for my sister, Raito1.
I'll be posting drawings I do of all of her OCs and of her favorite shows and such there...
BUT
I don't think it's fair for her to only get fan art from her sister...
SOOOOO...
I would love it if you guys out there could help me out!
She deserves it and I would really appreciate if you could help.
Thank you for supporting me guys! <3
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Fan Art Tumblr Link : rairaifans.tumblr.com/
Other places to stalk her:
DeviantART: raito1.deviantart.com/
Sketchfu: sketchfu.com/profile/Raito1
Tumblr: raito1.tumblr.com/
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Raito1 Fanart Tumblr
2 min read
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Story In Progress... [DAN.VS]
7 min read
*May or may not finish this...*
This is the day I was rushed to the hospital.And the day I ruined my love's life.
Well, the love of my life that doesn't know I love him…
He just sat there beside me, not uttering a word. I was just trying to get his attention. He constantly stared for periods of time. Only this time I didn't see a spark in his eyes. I just announced to him that I felt like I ruined everything. Things as important like, I don't know- his birthday. I just had to go and ruin everything. I don't even know why he's sitting here next to me, just staring at me with those hypnotizing green eyes of his. I couldn't tell if he was upset or concerned or what. I mean I am in a hospital and all. So I guess he doesn't want to frighten the nurses. But he just stared at me. I felt as though I was staring into the depths of this man's soul.
He just continued to watch me. I believe he was sitting on the edge of the bed, since I could feel a part of the bed lower itself. I thought to myself he never really had proper posture. I tried to catch a glimpse of this man that is so co close to me, both physically and mentally. I really cared about him and I couldn't bear to see him cry so I tried to comfort him. Although I couldn't see him, I knew for a fact that I hurt him. And I fear that it's permanent like a Sharpie. I remembered that the nurses left my phone next to my bed. So I quietly reached for it, trying not to disturb him. But I don't believe he would've have seen me anyways since he looked out the window for a moment. I nabbed my phone and faced the screen at him. I stared at the reflection that appeared on my phone.
I think my heart stopped for a moment.
Before me sat my love who, even in my delicate state, could not be less fragile than I. Or at least that's what I thought when I saw him. He looked as if he had been bawling his eyes out since the end of World War II. His normally vibrant, yellow-green eyes, which were ever so filled with life and energy, now almost appeared shut due from the puffiness from crying. His eyes and skin were irritated and blotchy. I think he realized that I saw that he was crying since his hand quickly shot up and covered his eyes. This little event "pulled my heartstrings". My heart ached at the sight of this man. I had never seen him cry before so this was unusual and unbearably depressing. Even though he covered his eyes, his pitch black hair, that is dark brown in reality, was as shaggy as ever. I remember myself nagging to him about his hair. I always asked why he never fixed it. But now that I look at it, I love the fact that it's unruly and all over the place. That's one of the reasons why I fell for this man in the first place. His bangs rested gently atop his hand that was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. But it was much too late. I had seen the impossible. As I look through the screen on my phone, I felt as though this act that I was performing wasn't good enough. I need to see him, face to face. I slowly try to gather all the strength that I possibly could to attempt a sitting position. I wanted to see him for myself, not what man my phone was showing me.
I manage to sit myself up so I can see him. There he was. He was in his old t-shirt that, somehow, managed to survive all these years. I loved that shirt of his. It was all black with the word 'Jerk' written in the middle in white. The letters were about two inches thick and an inch apart. I knew this kind of information from spending most of my time with him. His jeans were just like his shirt, in a so-called 'good condition'. His jeans were made of darker denim with white stitching. And I saw his that he had his leg perched upon the bed's railing. And I noticed the bottoms of his jeans were worn out in the back from the friction between it and the floor. His boots were made from leather and were stained from over-usage and dirt.
I trace my way up to his face again by following his contour lines. Our eyes locked on each other like a predator would its prey. I couldn't take it anymore. It was all too painful. My emotions were about to erupt like a volcano. I felt tears form within my eyes. The heat from them burned, as one by one, they crawled around the roundness of my face. My mixed emotions overwhelmed me so much to the point of me just full on crying. I doubt that a single tear I shed hit the collar on my hospital gown before I sense him shoot up from his sitting position on the edge of the bed and rush to my side. He was still crying, staining that 'tough guy' face of his. But, somehow, he managed to lock away his sadness and open the door for mine. His rough, yet gentle, hands cupped my face within them. He wiped away my tears, whispering to me that such a pretty soul shouldn't be tainted by the sin of sadness. I attempted to smile but it must have been faint because I don't think he saw it. He wipes away another tear from my cheek. Then, before I know it, he leans in close to me and kisses my cheek His soul patch and stubble felt like sand paper against my skin. It tickled a bit, causing me to let out a tiny laugh. The warmth from his kiss could be felt by the nerves in my face, the entirety of my body, and the butterflies in my stomach. I was about to place my hand against his cheek, to wipe away his final tear, when I felt myself attempting to mouth out something to him. I couldn't believe it. I could finally talk again. I wanted to tell him something that he needed to know, but I must have been too weak to say even a peep because he didn't acknowledge my actions. Then before I could try anymore, I start to feel a sharp pain in my head. I felt dizzy. The room appeared and felt as though it were spinning uncontrollably. I gently push him aside so I could fathom what is, or might be, happening. He stares at me with a concerned look, and then quickly changes his glance to the machine on the cart next to me. It's been making strange beeping sounds this entire time, beeping repetitively in that internally-retching kind of way. Now the computerized sounds were speeding up. I started to lose my sense of hearing, followed by my vision. I don't know if it showed, but I was scared out of my mind. I was afraid. Afraid that I was going to lose this man, that I adore too much to let slip away from me. I don't want to think about, or be forced to live in, a world without him…
This is the day I was rushed to the hospital.And the day I ruined my love's life.
Well, the love of my life that doesn't know I love him…
He just sat there beside me, not uttering a word. I was just trying to get his attention. He constantly stared for periods of time. Only this time I didn't see a spark in his eyes. I just announced to him that I felt like I ruined everything. Things as important like, I don't know- his birthday. I just had to go and ruin everything. I don't even know why he's sitting here next to me, just staring at me with those hypnotizing green eyes of his. I couldn't tell if he was upset or concerned or what. I mean I am in a hospital and all. So I guess he doesn't want to frighten the nurses. But he just stared at me. I felt as though I was staring into the depths of this man's soul.
He just continued to watch me. I believe he was sitting on the edge of the bed, since I could feel a part of the bed lower itself. I thought to myself he never really had proper posture. I tried to catch a glimpse of this man that is so co close to me, both physically and mentally. I really cared about him and I couldn't bear to see him cry so I tried to comfort him. Although I couldn't see him, I knew for a fact that I hurt him. And I fear that it's permanent like a Sharpie. I remembered that the nurses left my phone next to my bed. So I quietly reached for it, trying not to disturb him. But I don't believe he would've have seen me anyways since he looked out the window for a moment. I nabbed my phone and faced the screen at him. I stared at the reflection that appeared on my phone.
I think my heart stopped for a moment.
Before me sat my love who, even in my delicate state, could not be less fragile than I. Or at least that's what I thought when I saw him. He looked as if he had been bawling his eyes out since the end of World War II. His normally vibrant, yellow-green eyes, which were ever so filled with life and energy, now almost appeared shut due from the puffiness from crying. His eyes and skin were irritated and blotchy. I think he realized that I saw that he was crying since his hand quickly shot up and covered his eyes. This little event "pulled my heartstrings". My heart ached at the sight of this man. I had never seen him cry before so this was unusual and unbearably depressing. Even though he covered his eyes, his pitch black hair, that is dark brown in reality, was as shaggy as ever. I remember myself nagging to him about his hair. I always asked why he never fixed it. But now that I look at it, I love the fact that it's unruly and all over the place. That's one of the reasons why I fell for this man in the first place. His bangs rested gently atop his hand that was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. But it was much too late. I had seen the impossible. As I look through the screen on my phone, I felt as though this act that I was performing wasn't good enough. I need to see him, face to face. I slowly try to gather all the strength that I possibly could to attempt a sitting position. I wanted to see him for myself, not what man my phone was showing me.
I manage to sit myself up so I can see him. There he was. He was in his old t-shirt that, somehow, managed to survive all these years. I loved that shirt of his. It was all black with the word 'Jerk' written in the middle in white. The letters were about two inches thick and an inch apart. I knew this kind of information from spending most of my time with him. His jeans were just like his shirt, in a so-called 'good condition'. His jeans were made of darker denim with white stitching. And I saw his that he had his leg perched upon the bed's railing. And I noticed the bottoms of his jeans were worn out in the back from the friction between it and the floor. His boots were made from leather and were stained from over-usage and dirt.
I trace my way up to his face again by following his contour lines. Our eyes locked on each other like a predator would its prey. I couldn't take it anymore. It was all too painful. My emotions were about to erupt like a volcano. I felt tears form within my eyes. The heat from them burned, as one by one, they crawled around the roundness of my face. My mixed emotions overwhelmed me so much to the point of me just full on crying. I doubt that a single tear I shed hit the collar on my hospital gown before I sense him shoot up from his sitting position on the edge of the bed and rush to my side. He was still crying, staining that 'tough guy' face of his. But, somehow, he managed to lock away his sadness and open the door for mine. His rough, yet gentle, hands cupped my face within them. He wiped away my tears, whispering to me that such a pretty soul shouldn't be tainted by the sin of sadness. I attempted to smile but it must have been faint because I don't think he saw it. He wipes away another tear from my cheek. Then, before I know it, he leans in close to me and kisses my cheek His soul patch and stubble felt like sand paper against my skin. It tickled a bit, causing me to let out a tiny laugh. The warmth from his kiss could be felt by the nerves in my face, the entirety of my body, and the butterflies in my stomach. I was about to place my hand against his cheek, to wipe away his final tear, when I felt myself attempting to mouth out something to him. I couldn't believe it. I could finally talk again. I wanted to tell him something that he needed to know, but I must have been too weak to say even a peep because he didn't acknowledge my actions. Then before I could try anymore, I start to feel a sharp pain in my head. I felt dizzy. The room appeared and felt as though it were spinning uncontrollably. I gently push him aside so I could fathom what is, or might be, happening. He stares at me with a concerned look, and then quickly changes his glance to the machine on the cart next to me. It's been making strange beeping sounds this entire time, beeping repetitively in that internally-retching kind of way. Now the computerized sounds were speeding up. I started to lose my sense of hearing, followed by my vision. I don't know if it showed, but I was scared out of my mind. I was afraid. Afraid that I was going to lose this man, that I adore too much to let slip away from me. I don't want to think about, or be forced to live in, a world without him…
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