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18.It's exhilarating to love someone that your'e not supposed to; sneaking glances to make your heart race, trying to speak clearly through a lump in your throat, letting their radiant smile shine past the glint of the wedding ring. He supposes that's why he allowed himself to love her, as if he could get off on the thrill and would never have to even touch her. Her hair brushed against the back of his hand one afternoon, and he could see stars as she walked so gracefully away. He had never seen stars with any other girl, even when they pressed his hands against their cheeks, even when they let their hair dangle over his face like a curtain hiding a secret that everyone already knew. And so he spent the slowly disappearing days counting the times she could make his stomach twist and flutter.
After, he spent his nights awake trying to remember the way she sometimes lightly touched his shoulder. What they don't prepare you for is how hard it is to reason a broken heart over someone wh
17.I stand inside your skeletal remains, a different heart beats against its breastplate, a different set of organs is sheltered by the ribcage. You wouldn't recognize it anymore, but it still feels like home.
That's the beauty of being left behind, though they never mention it. I can watch it all be moulded and shaped again, death and rebirth and whatnot. It's almost disturbingly beautiful, as if I became your protege, left to maintain the body you left behind, to feed it, water it, and ultimately grow to love it.
I never expected to turn into you, but as I leave this body, my body, behind, planting seeds for someone else to water and grow, I realize that I have. And I realize that in loving it, I grew to love you, clinging forever, to these old bones.
16.The library was burning down, and there was nothing I could do about it. The yellowed pages of our favorite stories caught fire so easily and formed smoke monsters that got caught in the ceiling and disappeared into the flames that lapped against the ceiling. In my watering eyes, I could see your body forged from smoke and, darling, I knew that our story had gone up in flames.
14.She was supposed to be at her grandmother's house right now. Her mother had worried about putting her on the train alone, but her father insisted that she would be fine. He used to do it all the time as a kid, the conductors always make sure that the kids get off at the right stop and they usually give them candy. Her parents' flight left at six in the morning, and they dropped her off for the five o'clock train. They kissed her on the head and told her that everything would be alright.
It was early in the morning, in fact, she had never been up this early before. She tried her best to stay awake on the train, but by the third stop, she was asleep. When the train reached its final destination, the train conductor woke her to get off. He helped her get her luggage from the rack, and led her off the train to look for her grandmother.
Blinking the sleepiness from her eyes, she looked around the station, but the familiar face of her grandmother was nowhere to be seen. She walked over to th
13.People will throw away the strangest things. Just yesterday I found a pair of nearly new baby slippers, several books, and a box of pasta that had never been opened (don't they know that this stuff never goes bad?). Usually I just throw this all into the back of my truck, I can only keep the really impressive things, otherwise my house would end up looking like a smaller version of the dump.
The problem is, I can't stop taking the things she throws out. Yes, I have yet to see her face in person, but I know so much about her already. She can cook beautifully, I've seen her leftovers, and she has been to so many places. Just last week she threw out a bunch of old, blank postcards from Venice and Rome. I always put her garbage can back up on the curb once I finish with it, she has yet to say anything, but I'm sure that she appreciates the gesture. Maybe I'll see her next Friday on the route. I'll be sure to wear my nicest uniform.
AHer fists rang out as thunder against the doors of heaven, her hands streaked with her blood and that of her friends.
Her cries pierce the empty silence. “Haven’t I suffered enough?”
No response comes.
Battering and staining the door her hands break and she throws herself against the obstruction until she can no longer move.
"What more do you want from me?"
Blinded by pain and choked with lament she lays bleeding upon the floor.
She questions her decisions, she wonders how things could have been had she never walked this path.
Her body grows cold and the doors remain shut.
She would be with her friends again soon or so she hoped.
A World UnseenDarkness surrounds me, crushes me as it impedes closer, ever closer. Fingers reach out, clawing at my face, my entire being, with icy pinpricks that stab through my skin and shatter my soul. How did I get here, to this place of thick ebony nothingness? I am huddled here, tiny as a speck of dust floating in the air. Alone. Completely and helplessly alone in this world of emptiness.
"Nothing. This is what you are; absolutely nothing." A voice whispers in the eardrum shattering silence. His voice is so quiet, so faint, but when I crack open my eyes there is nothing but the pitch blackness to greet me. Alone. Alone here with not a single soul to save me.
"Why do you even try? All you do is fail. You are nothing. You mean nothing to us!" A woman's shrill voice blasts through the empty, the black now. The fingers begin to reach for my ears, clawing and stinging mercilessly. Hopeless relief leaks through me, tiny drops on a leaky faucet. They at the very least covered my ears from the
Hetalia x reader part 2
Your closed eyes stung by a light. As you opened your eyes slowly, you saw that the light came thought the window. You sat up and you guessed that it was morning already. You noticed that you still had headache, but the pain was less than before. But you suddenly heard your stomach grumbling. You wondered if the others were here and awake and if you could stand up. So you decided to give it a try.
You sat up on your bed and your legs were a little wobbly you tried to stand. You eventually stood up, but you sat immediatly sat as dizziness blurred your vision. You rubbed your head and shut your eyes tightly.
"Damn I thought the headache and amnesia was the only thing that I have." You thought. But you didn't notice that someone came in your room. You shocked as you felt someone grab your shoulders gently, but your shock fade as you saw that Italy knelt down at you. He frowned and his closed eyes showed concern.
"Bella, are you okay?
Close-up DistanceHands on the table. Fingers tapping a quiet oakwood rhythm. White, feathery page opened on the screen. The print of a photograph right beside it - small girl, dark skin, donor clothes with an American flag sewn up front. Only bruised skin and shattered bones, crying with joy over a sip of water, scared by the lens directed at her.
Hazel eyes regaining Focus on the words that wait to be written. The tapping changes, Wood turns to plastic. Stray hair blocking the view, Hand flipping up to remove it. Pause in the flow.
This is too much time to think. Stopping and staring at the Screen, retracing the letters that turned out so wrong. Hazel eyes staring down the pitiful, mournful words that almost make them water. One thundrous hammer of the index finger and all is gone. Back to the feather, to the incomprehensible that needs to be caged in 500 words.
A twist of the office chair. Facing the wall now, everything to get the photograph out of the mind. Recounting what she learned by heart: Dat
Dawn's Vorish Morning(Soft)Okay. Let's get some things out of the way here.. First, this is actually my first story I've written so it might not be all that good..But hey, if you're willing to read this anyway, go for it! Second, this is one of /those/ stories. You know.. Soft Vore, Belching, that kind of stuff.. I've already seen a few of those stories so I decided to make one of my own. If you don't really like this kind of stuff(Soft Vore, Vomiting, Belching), just avoid reading the story. This is your warning. ...Anyway, for the people that stayed/wanted to read this..
In the distance, a few snoring creatures could be heard, deep in the forest. One of them was starting to awaken, opening up her sharp, silverish eyes. she yawned loudly opening up her maw and revealing its sharp-looking incisors. The large beast got out of its protective position, curled up against the blue catboy sleeping beside her. Purring in his sleep, he kept wiggling his ears up and down as the dragoness looked down at him, waving her ta
City Lights She inched closer to the window, rain pouring down outside. Her bus seat patched with duct tape and gum, the material a darker version of the bleak grey sky above them.
So many times the girl had tried to leave home. She felt as if she was in a dream. She had floated to the bus station, and now found herself in the cold, dirty transportation. Memories as old as her, of a small town, and slow summers all sped away with every mile she put behind her.
Ahead, she could see the city lights, twinkling through the raindrops and gloom. Beacons of promise, for a new life, for change, and for the prospect of love.
She quietly sat in her bus seat, gazing at the city stars, feeling herself draw closer, like a moth to a flame.
Dear PantsAfter all this time, there is still nothing like hearing you laugh. Thank you for giving that back to me, at a time when the last thing I thought I could do was smile. Thank you for not making it difficult, or sad. Thank you for being there for me in my darkness. I don’t know if you know how much it means.
I love that we can still find humor in things we joked about years ago. I love that when I hear from you I am instantly happy. I love that you know me. You know me so well that you know what I’m thinking, and what I am going to say.
Even though we have been through so much, and probably have so many reasons to hate each other, you are still my favorite person. I wish I could find the perfect words to show you how much I appreciate you, how much I always have. Even on the bad days.
I appreciate everything about you. I always have. But tonight, more than ever.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More