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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.
your smile used to be bright. | kaneki ken
Why̴ ͢įs ̡t͠h̵e ͠wo̴r͘ld͡ ̨so̢ ̨c͞r͞uel?
"Are you worried about him?" He — Banjou, if you remember his name correctly — asks as he rests a hand on your right shoulder. You decide not to respond to him and continued to stay silent. Of course, you were worried about him. You were just about worried as everyone here in the cafe. "There's no need to be worried, though. Kaneki is a strong guy. I'm sure he'll make it. We'll save him, too. I promise." He says, trying his best to reassure you with a smile.
"Is it a promise you can keep?" You questioned, your voice mellow. "Promises are meant to be broken, you know."
"I don't break my promises." He says.
"Okay." You're not sure if you trusted him or not — because once you give someone your utmost trust, they'll betray you and throw you away. You'll be forgotten, and you'll be all alone again. Giving your trust to someone else is difficult and pa
Hetalia x reader Prologue
The schoolbell rang throught the hallways of your school and all the doors flew open. That means one thing: A schoolday was finally over. As the doors opened everyone walked outside. Some were running happily and some were taking it slowly, including you. You walked out with your schoolbag around your shoulder and sighed in relief. You were glad that it was finally, because for you it was really boring and you couldn't wait to read some Hetalia fanfiction on your laptop. You waved your best friend goodbye with a smile and walked away with a tired smile.
You walked inside with tired (e/c) eyes and a frown on your face. You leaned against the door, looked down at the floor and sighed. You never felt so tired after school.
"Are you okay, honey?" A voice said. You looked up and saw your mom in front of you with worried (e/c) eyes. She walked over to you and put a hand on your forehead. "Hmm. No fever. But you really don't look good." she said
Meal: Six (6) Maine red lobster tails
One (1) bowl of black caviar
One (1) glass of Chardonnay
One (1) scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, topped with dark chocolate ganache and a Maraschino cherry.
Comments: Garbage. I always knew rich people were full of shit.
Meal: One (1) pepperoni pizza from Little Caesar’s.
One (1) waffle cone, chocolate
Meal: One (1) bottle of Clear American, Fuji Apple flavor
Two (2) Payday candy bars.
Meal: Two (2) fried chicken legs
One (1) bowl of mashed potatoes, brown gravy
One (1) bowl of creamed corn
One (1) glass of milk
One (1) slice of peach pie
Comments: Just like Mom used to make.
Meal: One (1) bowl of tomato soup
One (1) grilled cheese
One (1) serving of spaghetti squash
One (1) Jello vanilla pudding
Meal: One (1) bowl of spaghetti
Two (2) Olive Garden breadsticks
One (1) bag of buttered popcorn, dusted with
You didn't even perform an autopsyYou placed me in the bed of a sarcophagus.
I asked, "Isn't this where you put dead people?"
"Then why am I here?"
"You're dead, of course."
breathing the deepPapa isn't coming home again tonight.
He said to me over the telephone that the road is too long, and that it takes too much time for him to get from his office to mommy's place.
Last week he'd said that the streets are too dark, and that there are some things that even grown-ups are scared of.
The week before that, he'd promised me and said that he was coming, yes, definitely, but then he never showed up at all.
But maybe next week he'll come.
Yes, next week.
Julia, you really should be going to sleep.
I know, mommy. I think I'll wait by the window for a little longer.
Just in case.
Dim moralsThe echo of her heels that haunted the stair case heightened her despair. What a difference from the beginning of the evening, when she had walked proudly out the door. The sobs which she could no longer hold back sounded higher pitched than usual in the lonely corridor, but she didn't care who might have heard them this time. After slamming the door to her apartment, with shaking hands she locked it, scared as one who thought himself followed. Once in her home she felt safer, however the shame and frustration overwhelmed her shoulders and she let herself slide down to her knees on the floor. She bit her lips, but grimaced with pain, breathing heavily, though her moans were subsiding and the tears were starting to dry. The tears along with the blood from her face.
That afternoon, a tender smile reflected in the mirror of the vanity spot had brought her back to life. With delicate gestures the woman picked up every make up tool in the proper order, applying creams, foundation, illuminat
FFM XVIIIShe thinks about her children and smiles.
Today, her boys Jack and Christopher have gone an "adventure" in the tree-grove behind their house.
They were pirates today, using long, wrapping-paper tubes as swords which doubled as telescopes. The two were running around, chasing each other through the trees as the day's air slowly turned to night and the sky grew pink, then orange, then black.
She hasn't yet called them inside for dinner. She's not quite ready.
She puts down her pen and rubs her eyes and she knows only one of them will come inside.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More