|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
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.
cocky. | oikawa tooru
"Eh?! I lost?! No way, [Name]-chan totally cheated!"
"Hah?! No, I didn't! You just suck at this!" You argued, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it directly in his face. "Just because I'm better at playing video games, doesn't mean I'm cheating. Geez, Tooru, just stop being a piss-baby and just accept the fact that I'm better than you. The sooner you admit it, the better."
Iwaizumi sighed as he tried to ignore the pointless bickering between the two of you. He wasn't even sure why you guys were here—he didn't remember asking one of you to come to his house and play his video games. Seriously, all he wanted to do today was to sleep and do nothing else. Unfortunately, he had to kiss his relaxing day goodbye because there was no way in hell that he would be able to relax in this situation.
"Iwa-chan! [Name]-chan is being mean to me again!" Oikawa exclaimed.
"Oi! Hajime! This dumbass won't admit that I'm better than him!"
"Maybe because you aren't!" He d
TG 34: Me to Faera
All of my body hair fell of as my legs lengthened and became feminine. However, the changed legs then started to darken, first appearing as a tan before slowly becoming too dark to be confused with a tan. My legs, along with my feet, were black. The changes continued upward as well as my progressively darkening skin as my thighs started to bloat out immensely whilst also succumbing to the darkened skin below it and crushing my privates in the process. I then began to feel a painful sensation at my hips as they suddenly snapped out, breaking the bone that formed them. That was short-lived, however, as the bone remolded itself to fit its new shape and, of course, becoming black. The darkening skin then went behind my legs to my butt, which then fattened extensively, becoming more and more round. While this was happening, the wave of dark skin was traveling down my giant bottom, changing it to a sweet chocolate color. However, this change was slower than the expansion, so, for a bit, it w
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
Tango Of Arms Under The SeaMy love, how could this happen? Why did this have to happen?
In my mind, I'm heartbroken at the sight of you
Your eyes no longer good, but filled with brainwash
I cry at the sight of you confused
The real master behind your emotions
Has you playing at the limits of his puppet strings
I don't want to fight you
I don't want to lose you to this battle of arms
Although I may have been trained to fight
I can't fight you
Your eyes are filled with hatred and evil
I'm prepared to bring you back to my side
On the inside, though, I'm so scared
I'm terrified because of the unknown turnout
Please come back to me...
Don't listen to this dragon
He knows nothing about a free life
Only through Jesus may we earn a life in heaven
As our battle stances remain steady and balanced
The evil one tries to graze his hands over my ears
As if he knows who is on my side
I cannot be conquered by the evil of this world!!!
Tears pouring and pouring on the inside and stern face with anger in
Didn't WeEden on the Lake was a terrible tap revue. There were a hundred blonde-blue-eyed dolls changing outfits thrice as a nod to the shows of a time before hydrogen bombs. We’d lost the art of it somewhere in between that and napalm. You could tell by looking at their footwork that at least half had been cavorting with the director in one way or another, though the ladies who could tap their way to heaven (if they wanted to) were sequestered in the back line.
The whole room smelled like dust and feathers. I sighed onto the arm rest with a lapse of judgement to find that the last patron in my seat had left behind their gum, but my suit was only a twenty-dollar-find from the consignment shop. You couldn’t pay for things with war bonds anymore like our daddies used to. The crusty man in the ticket booth didn’t even offer a veteran’s discount.
There was a seat between me and a man still in his uniform who was trying his best not
FFM XXXHer name is Amelia, and she spends her life watching daytime television and knotting her sorrows away. She's got an ashtray by her chair and once-cigarette, now stick-of-ash dangling from her lips and her yellowed eyes stare off towards nothing.
Amelia also has a basket of yarn down at her feet, filled with sweaters for a baby that never existed.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Keep in Touch!
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