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GrowthThe mystery slowly comes into focus
The haze of uncertainty,
Dissolves into a calm confidence.
I am the earth, emerging suitable to plant
Desire, to protect gentle roots
To Aerate new innovation
I am the gardener, cultivating and pruning
Decision, of what matures,
And what I let whither.
A MortocycleThe sound of the motor
Once a siren of joy
Now brings only dread
Sick thoughts in my head
This too shall pass
Red fades into black
Black becoming white
New beginnings in sight
My rhyme is contrived
Words flowing like cheap wine
Sick thoughts in my head
Doubt, Shame, and Hope
Write out each new note
To me it all sounds the same
Echoed pestilence through my brain.
The Eternal Story: Character Exposition 2/3 ChanceAs I stare at this blank page, he is infinite potential. The choices that we posses, the very things that separate us from each other, make life possible. Our desire to prove and explain simultaneously drives and improves us, as it collapses the infinite potential that exists within everything that is left unobserved.
The most personally relatable of the Three, Chance inhabits and embodies humanity. He is our freedoms, joys and unbridled expectations. Every choice, mistake, success or providence that we have enjoyed or lamented, is only possible through reality and limited existence.
Purpose, unsure and striving. The unknown. He is ruled by temptation and chaos. The only love he knows is passion, irate and inconsolable.
Rage consumes the inexperienced. Our insecurity manages our day-to-day lives in the struggle for control, acceptance, and understanding.
So much of his portrayal can only be explained through his actions.
Chance is the flame that ignites the fuse; it is his struggle tha
ParalyzedManic action crippled by indecision
Over saturation of option
I could run a marathon
Scream loud and long
Pick a fight
Destroy an opportunity
Do something drastic and irrational
To equalize the pressure between
And the treacherous ocean.
And I do.
Fidgeting in my chair,
It all happens within me.
The Eternal Story: Character Exposition 1/3- TimeFather Time is not old, for to be so, he would have to be a patron of his own cycle. He is, has always been, as long as there has been anything in existence. Which is to say forever, because if there is not something, there is nothing, and time is not relevant.
He is constant, relative to each realm of existence, and yet unyielding to conscious woes. A compilation of heat, space, and development; never dictated; yet never fully understood. Sheer comprehension is impossible without perspective, and within perspective, lies restriction.
Time bears no emotion. That would equate to limitation, and thereby "humanity" as it will so superfluously be named. In a constant superposition of interpretation, simultaneously faster or slower when compared to the varying observer. Yet on each scale a distinct tempo is unchangeable, as if he does control every realm to some degree. The beauty of parenthood; to create and guide a life, through an environment specific to each being, and yet remain comple
Turning PointThe mounting pressure in my chest grows palpable, as it travels and hardens as a knot in my throat. Reasoning has left my mind today, the forces of another facet of my being taking over.
A slow burning panic, inhabiting unwelcome and causeless the void of my most vulnerable insecurities.
When favor smiles upon those accustomed to combat, ones best suited for endurance in contention; favor does not relieve the beating need for survival, the anticipation of the unknown adversary.
Expression; my outlet. That or sabotage the good that has removed me from comfortable elements. The return to turmoil a tempting, beckoning escape.
I arrive here, granted my silver lining made cognizant and physical for the first time in my life. The chaos in my mind is merely a building conception that I deserve better than constant torment.
I can only strive for understanding, before my previous poisons sour the taste of this truly superb love potion brewing.
TG Caption This: Turned Into A Olympic Swimmer
TG Caption This: Turned Into A Olympic Swimmer
Mike was a fantastic swimmer, he trained every day and had won many prizes as well as competitions, but one day his younger sister gave him an odd swimsuit it covered most of his body resembling a girls one piece swimsuit but his sister assured him it would be fine. He didn't want to upset his adorable sister so put it on and went to the back of his house for a swim (such a good swimmer had to own a swimming pool). He dived in the cool water flowing against his body, for some odd reason it felt nice to swim in the tight fitting swimsuit, as he started to swim his concentration went immediately to his strokes, swimming through the first length of his pool, his body hairs fell off, that wouldn't bother him he was planning to shave his legs to be more hydrodynamic. He completed his second length his large square shoulders made for powerful stroke seem to round and get smaller nothing to noticeable but enough to be seen. Going on to his third
TG Caption This: Don't Leave The Toilet Seat Up!
Well, now I've gone and done it. You may be wondering what it is I've done, well, let me start from the beginning. I was you're average guy in a rented apartment with a female roommate. Arrangements were simple, the rooms clean, except the bedrooms which were a mess, no matter how much we cleaned. Hmm, before I continue I should tell you about myself. My name is... was... umm, Chris, just call me Chris. as I said before, I'm an average guy. Neck length dark brown hair that never looks tidy no matter what I do with it, thin build, a bit of stubble, you know the drill. Now I like to think I'm a nice enough guy. I keep the door open for anyone passing through, I serve others meals before I serve myself, I try to keep out of peoples business when they want me too, I'm always scarce when my roommate has friends round, unless they want me around, etc. But I do have a habit that my roommate hates, and it's why I'm in this situation to begin with. Let me recount the tale for you all.
Dragon-Girl Feeding HabitsWisps of steam and polite, muted feminine voices filled the warm air. Occette sighed, sinking up to her neck in the pleasantly hot waters of the spring. A princess by birth, Occette was accustomed to extravagant luxury, but the tranquil, rocky environs of the hot spring, where she and five other equally nude princesses currently relaxed, was a treat even to her royal sensibilities. The large, circular pool was over 100 feet in diameter, with the center being quite deep, and ringed by tall, impenetrable rock formations except for a single small path that lead to the exit/entrance of the area, providing ample privacy. It was no ordinary hot spring either, of course, or else such a collection of female royalty would not have all been attending at once. Indeed, this spring was situated in a strange and fantastic land know as Felarya, and was fabled to provide longevity and lasting beauty to any virgin maiden who bathed in it . . . and the spring itself
Vacation in Puerto Rico: Part 3
Jess clapped a hand over her mouth at hic-urping from feeling him slide inside her stomach like that, while her face turned a bit red. She ran her fingers along her waist as she felt his form within and those little, rubbing hands. Slipping further into the hot tub, she sighed as she tried to not find this awkward. It was meant to be fun after all. In fact, it felt even better with Ike in there while the bubbling, warm water rushed over her form. Her hands flattened out as they massaged over the belly deeper in order for him to feel, but did not resort to flexing her abs. She figured that might not feel quite as nice as this.
I was familiar with the noises that Jess' body made, but there was something new? Pressing my ear against the inside of Jess's belly, I could hear the low rumbling of the hot tub on the outside, as bubbles streamed to the surface and flowed against her body; it felt a bit like a massage as I snuggled against her
Gone (Contest entry) Simon hadn’t moved in a week.
They had been about to go on another adventure, just the two of them; Lewis had told him to be at the wide meadow an hour’s walk from Yoglabs by noon. The spring day had been clear, and Simon had taken his time walking down the beaten path to their usual meeting place; he was late, but Lewis was used to that. The sky had been a brilliant robin’s egg blue, the poppies were nodding in a soft breeze, and birds chirped softly as they flew overhead on their daily errands.
The sky was clear now, and he hated it. How could the sun be shining like nothing had happened? The sky would be eternally gray for him now.
He’d heard the struggle before he’d seen it, the worn boots which clad his feet scuffing up small plumes of dust as Simon increased his pace. One hand had risen to adjust his horned helmet in preparation of a fight. The sounds had gotten louder as he’d approached: voices raised in anger and d
Morning Spells ( Hijack, Kids )" Mama! Mama!" " M-m-ma-ma-ma-ma!"
Hiccup opened one green eye, only to quickly close it, pulling his hand up casually over his mouth to hide his smile.
Jack giggled softly against the pillow, he knew what Hiccup was up to.
The twins came rushing in, and though they weren't quite able to climb up on the bed, Frost still attempted to, and December resolved to gently poke Hiccup.
With Daddy's help, Frost made her to perching on top of Jack's back, then rolling over him and squeezing space between Jack and Hiccup.
" Mama!" She squeaked.
Hiccup restrained his giggles and Jack lightly bit his own tongue to stop from laughing.
" Mama!" Frost squealed a bit louder, determined to get Hiccup's attention.
" E-a-s-s-st-ter-r." December whimpered, attempting and failing to climb up in the bed like his sister.
Then they both looked up at Jack at the exact same time.
" Okay, okay, Daddy will handle this. So you see, Mama's under a spell-"
Both of the twins gasped simulta
The Origin of:BENThe backstory of: BEN.
"SHUT UP!" The snow-globe smashed into the wall next to a boys head. He cried out, fresh tears streaming down his face, and quickly ran upstairs. He pushed a door open, quickly slamming it shut once inside. This boys name..Was Ben. He had been born to an abusive household, consisting of just himself and his two parents. They always would be getting drunk, fighting, having parties. All the usual things drunkards like them would do. Ben was sweet boy at heart, with blonde locks and big, brown eyes. He would do all he could to make others happy, and LOVED to play video games. Ben would always turn on his Nintendo 64 and play all sorts of games, especially his favorite, Majoras Mask. It was slightly beaten, losing its decals, and now was just a grey cartridge with the words "MAJORAS MASK" written on the back in black marker. But, to Ben, no matter how worn and old it was, he would always play. Even when he had beaten the game over twenty times, he would just re
Born of Lightning and Death ( Hijack )Jack mumbled quietly, his arm tightening around Hiccup. The viking and the spirit were fast asleep, snuggling in the pitch blackness of Hiccup's bedroom. With a soft squeak, Hiccup curled up in a tighter ball, clasping the corner of the fluffy blanket. Jack had insisted on it, the viking had been shivering in his sleep and it was December on Berk.
Jack smirked in his sleep- no shivering. Just a peaceful night with the sleepy brunette tucked under his arm.
Jack shrieked, jumping up in the bed, clutching the blanket.
Half-asleep, he flung open the shutters of the window, whacking Toothless with a well-aimed pillow.
" Born of lightning and death itself indeed! SHUT UP TOOTHLESS I'M SLEEPING!!"
With a grumble, Jack flopped back down on the bed, wrapping his arms around a very shaken, very sleepy, and very wide-eyed Hiccup.
The Celestial GuardianAndes entered the grove with an ominous stare. The eerie greens and browns of the thick forest canopy swayed gently among the high gale like some solemn ritual. A pool rippled on the far corner of the grove, showering the dewy grass with rainbows of blurred water vapor. The high moon provided scant light among the shrouded silhouettes of trees and bushes, sending a linear wave of cold fear tracing down Andes' spine. He carefully dropped a hand to his scabbard and entered the grove.
A thick smell brought his cautious approach to a halt as abruptly as a thunderclap. Something gave the young man pause, something faintly sour like decaying flesh. His hand hovered idly above his sword's hilt, unable to make the final descent and withdraw his steel blade. Andes felt as if he was drowning. His lungs strained to expand and inhale the life oxygen that his body was so desperately in need of. Swirling, shadowy tendrils leaped into being and traced along the forest canopy, sinuously circling the y
My Little BirdThe evening kisses cool on the back of my neck. I huddle smaller despite the mildness of the breeze. My thoughts turn inward, abandoning civility as I forget to remember again. Christine is a miraculous disaster. She inherently empowers everyone around her. The chaos that is my consciousness every time she walks through it, as carelessly as haphazard. I form a nest, plant a feeder of tempting humbugs, in the hopes that she will settle for a short while, and let me watch. Snap photographs of my imagination; little intangible keepsakes that contain fragile, happy feelings that manifest only for her. My little bird. I let her fly, and she never returned. I am never truly disappointed. It is impossible for me to feel anything but optimistic and positive when she is in my mind. Smitten.
I travel on in the illusion I created for myself when I feel a crunch under my foot. The pink smoke blows from my eyes, and I see a slight, porcelain, little girl; her left arm now dismembered. Such a beauti
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More