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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.
BoysContains: Gas fetishism. Female.
Liliana awoke to rain pattering against her apartment's window. She felt mild discontent.
She could see the overcast through the glass sliding door that lead to her balcony, moody gray light bleeding in at an angle. Liliana groaned.
Oh, the woman wished she could've gotten a few more moments of sleep, dozing off to the soft dripping of gloomy precipitation, but a hand trailing along her side alerted her-- no, reminded her of last night's events.
Calloused fingertips ran against her silky, tan skin, the palm cupping the fat of her hips before moving towards her inner thigh. She lay in the nude under the sheets, not a single garment or accessory on her besides the piercings in her navel.
A masculine grunt came from behind her as the rough hand attempted to make its way between her thighs, only for Liliana to growl and snatch his wrist. "You've overstayed your welcome," She muttered, narrowing her eyes. It was way too early for her to deal wi
ArminxBespectecled! ReaderHis ocean blue eyes stared at the girl, in un-withheld curiosity and admiration, from across the room. Her (E/C) shone bright and passionate like candles in the dead of night behind her large glasses, her (h/l) (h/c) swayed slightly as she sat down on the worn library couch, a heavy stack of books in her small and petite hand's. He couldn't help but find himself entranced by the way she gracefully set the dusty, leather bound books onto the oak wood table in front of her as if she's practiced it over and over. Her finger's, long and slender, nimbly maneuvered the books into neat piles before she chose one carefully to examine, a look of concentration gracing her face. She was beautiful. Armin honestly had no clue why so many people picked on her for having glasses.
The glasses only helped to add childish innocence to her features, highlighting her larg (e/c) eyes and making them pop and stand out as a large contrast with her (h/l) (h/c) locks. Her eyes where just gorgeous.
Two's company, three's a mistake"Alright... Now send me down the cable. Make sure the cover's still on the end so you don't get it all wet with your spit..."
"There we go, perfect. Now at least it won't be so boring in here."
The screen of a Nintendo DS flickered to life, illuminating the space surrounding it. A pudgy-hipped blonde girl with glasses sat cross-legged inside what was unmistakably someone's stomach, stylus between her lips as she focused intently on her video game. This was Chelsea, who, weeks ago, had been swallowed whole by the dorky stoner girl who sat in the back of her Calculus class and doodled in her notebook margins.
Now, in the warmth of June, she was sitting in that same stoner girl's stomach, a blush on her face as she tried to ignore the nagging feeling of excitement she'd been working on forgetting about for a while now. She managed to keep her attention on the game and off of her temporary captor's warm stomach - and outside the bloated belly, its owner belched rudely and cove
Kate (day-dreamer)Kate paints her nails teal with black speckles because she says they remind her of egg shells left to warm themselves in the summer sun.
(I tell her I've never seen a teal egg but she tut-tut's at me and presses our lips to the pages of an old book until our tongues are tattooed over by words from a dead poet's mouth.)
Kate cuts her own hair with scissors she found rusting in an old, waterlogged box in her grand-father's attic.
(I tell her rust doesn't cut, only bruises, but she rolls her faded eyes like dice and tells me that's nice but I shouldn't believe everything I read.)
Kate uses honey and paper bark to wash her face because she says it's all made of star-stuff and she likes to touch the night sky.
(I tell her it doesn't equate to the same thing but Kate is a believer and my soft words don't change her.)
Peace RestoredIn the cities they were beginning to tally the cost of victory, gained at last after years of destructive struggle.
Surveyors were already appraising the mutilated buildings, Managers were directing the necessary demolition of building shells that remained precariously upright. Gangs of the brawnier survivors were using rubble to fill the pot-holes in the roads. Some of the labourers working had been drafted in,part of the first deployment of troops awaiting demobilisation now part of the Army Of Reconstruction.
From the city council down, everyone was eager to erase the evidence of a madness, a grotesque mutual insanity that had laid waste to the civilisation of a continent, spawning numberless tribes of orphans.
There were reunions. Grizzled men, who had been living on time borrowed at they knew not what rate of interest, were beginning to return, seeking information about the survivors of their clans and families .These men, who had played their part in the destruction of thei
FFM XVOf course it was wet, it was the 1800's!
No one could remember when the rain started, and no one could see it stopping any time soon. Rain collected in buckets, gutters, potholes in the street. We learned to live with it as everyone else had done for years. It did wonders for the city's rat population (which I hear took a sharp downfall when the rain first started), and if it weren't for the mud, it might almost be bearable.
I, however, had grown sick of it. There were only stories of sunshine now. Stories told late at night by my grandmother, or re-told with glorious anecdotes by my brother.
There was really nothing that I wanted more than to see the sun myself. I pined to see something other than a dreary grey, to feel the touch of nothing but air
My brother made a plan to find it, and initially that plan didn't include me, but things changed. He told me his fantastical idea and there was a gleam in his eye that even the rains couldn't put out, and we both knew what would have to hap
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More