Your Attachment 13Your Attachment 133 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
This is chapter thirteen. To view other chapters find the links below.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler and sadly never will. *cries in corner*
Title: Your Attachment
Rating: T / Pg-13
Summary: He needed me. As for myself? Well...I needed a lot of things. Too bad pretending to be a girl while also pretending to be Sebastian's girl friend weren't some of them.
Timeline: Actual universe. Also known as 21st century.
Warnings: Will eventually be yaoi! (Sorry mom.)
sorry for OOCness. I won't try to have it that way, but since it is AU it will have to be slightly OOC. Also, I will place warnings on the chapters that have yaoi, so don't worry.
I was bait. I was just a tool for Ash to get a hold of Sebastian. But….why did he want Sebastian
I should tell him..I should tell him8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I am on an airplane. Its not in the air. So I guess its more of a groundplane, or
a tarmacplane. Its not just me. There are twenty-two rows, with four seats and an aisle. No one sits in the aisle, but everyone seems really excited to stand in it.
I am sitting because I wore too-small shoes. I saw them at the store and didnt care that they werent in my size. My love will make them fit.
I adore you, cant you tell? Just try not to hurt me.
I am sitting, and there is a man in the aisle (of course), and his pocket is touching my cheek. This pocket is empty. It is the most empty pocket I have ever seen. It is so empty that something must be missing. I want to tell the man that he lost his wallet, or his phone, or a deck of playing cards or cigarettes. I want to tell the pocket to be brave. It is his d
Blindly For YouBlindly For You3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler and sadly never will. *cries in corner*
Title: Blindly For You
Pairings: Sebastian/Ciel Light Yaoi
Rating: T / Pg-13
Summary: My name is Ciel Phantomhive and I am blind. it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all, i don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault.
Timeline: Actual universe. Also known as 21st century.
Warnings: This is NOT SHOTA! Although it has mentions of love in it. There will be some sebaciel. ALSO IF YOU DON'T LIKE DO NOT READ! You're immature if you comment. There is a back button for a reason. Also, you will cry if you read this. Sorry.. =/ Lastly, there is a bit of cursing and I am also sorry if the characters are OOC. I tried my best!
Paradise lost AKA All gods die Kiedy wychodził, nie spodziewał się, że zacznie padać – w końcu był dopiero początek grudnia, a zimy z roku na rok robiły się coraz cieplejsze. Siergiej nie lubił śniegu, wbrew swojej rosyjskości i temu, co w tej kwestii sądzili o nim inni, więc przeklął pod nosem, zobaczywszy frunące z gracją białe płatki. Nie znosił zimna, wilgoci i tego, że bez rękawiczek palenie stawało się uciążliwe i mało przyjemne. Jakieś dziecko krzyknęło do matki, a chwilę później spróbowało złapać wirujący puch na język. „Udław się nim” – pomyślał zirytowany Siergiej, rozplątując tkwiące w uścisku słuchawki. Gdyby tylko wiedziały, z kim miały do czynienia, nie byłyby tak złośliwe.Paradise lost AKA All gods die3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
DanceThump, thump, thump; like a massive heartbeat, the booming, techno music rhythmically shook the dance floor and the bodies dancing on it. A thick, swirling, synthetic fog, lit up by the laser lights, whisked around the ostentatious club. Cutting through the darkness, the intense pinpoints of light cast the crowd into a rippling, jumping silhouette. The crowd was massive, the hour unknown, and no one could have cared less. The song’s excessive volume captured our ability to speak to one another, so we spoke with our bodies, swaying closely to the pounding, captivating beat.Dance3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His hands were gently wrapped around my hips from behind as he held me against him, our bodies moving as one as the music raged on. At least fifty people were attempting to best the strong, tireless bellow of the song’s chorus. Hardly knowing the words, I only smiled and took in the soothing effect of the warmth pressed against me from behind.
His breath tickled the skin on the back of my neck when he kis
How My Business WorksHow My Business Works3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My business works because it's actually not a business. And by this I mean I hardly make any money with my pictures. For me photography is not a way to make money but to invest money, and I work several other jobs to be able to pay for my art. I'm a tour guide on waste to energy plants and wastewater treatment facilities, I'm a concierge at the house I'm living, I work as a Photoshop instructor and on weekends I take care of the library of the University.
Sometimes people say to me: I can hardly believe you're not making money with your photos because they are better than the work of many professional photographers.
Of course it's flattering when somebody says something like that even if I don't always agree. But here's the thing: the very reason why I'm able to work on this level is because I don't have to make money with my pictures. If you're a photographer who wants to make a living out of it you are forced to do things differently. You have to focus on what your customers like and
Verfuhrung-part 3"What do you mean, they're not real tickets!?" Aiden screamed at the big bouncer that stood outside the door where the party was. He stood perfectly still there, as other people held up their tickets and ran past them into the hotel.Verfuhrung-part 34 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"He can't understand you," Lillith butted in, snatching the tickets from Aiden's hand.
"Well, he had better fucking START understanding me in the next five minutes or we're going to have a fucking problem!" He started yelling, getting up in the bouncer's face to let him know that he meant business. Lillith put her hand on his chest and lightly pushed him aside. The look on her face said, 'Don't worry, I got this shit.'
"Herr, habt ich und meine freunde kommt reinen, bitte shön?" she asked, as nicely as she could, trying to keep her cool, as she listened to "Ich Will" float out the open door in large waves. All she wanted to do was get past this stupid doorway and dance a little. It was better than going back to the hotel where they stayed so they coul
Why Can't You See? - TextWhy cant you see its just a question? Why cant you see its just the truth? Why cant you see Im not lying? Why cant you see all I want is for you to get better? Why cant you see that Im not trying to hurt you? Why cant you see that Ill do anything for you? Why cant you see that Ill change for you? Why cant you see that Im telling the truth? Why cant you see that Im not just being polite? Why cant you see that this isnt your fault? Why cant you see that Ill try to help you? Why cant you see that Ill change the world for you? Why cant you see that Ill always be there for you? Why cant you see that this can change? Why cant you see that its not all your fault? Why cant you see that youre not worthless? Why cant you see that youre not hopeless? Why cant you see that youre not a waste of spaWhy Can't You See? - Text8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
the bitter things1. three months is a long time for something to be gone she says. three months is a long time to keep the bones in my back a secret and she would be the one to find them. she says they're structured like they're beautiful and maybe they are, but it makes me sickthe bitter things6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
2. i listened to her loving me and it would only make sense that i'd listen to her love him as well. it would only make sense that it would happen like this. i think about falling asleep while he's spitting breath all over you and it's not right, it's just not right. the saddest part of it is that i'm not mad because i love you, i'm mad because it's not fair that i couldn't have it. just twenty minutes of his thick-lipped dignity falling from my ribs. i hope his breath billows through your mouth and you catch something awful. i hate both of you. i hate you i hate you i hate you
3. it is true that i found god in you. it is true that when you raise your hand and cry i cry too. it is true that i have eyes that break for what break
projected profitsi keep picturing us in fifteen years, but it's more like ten. we're sleeping and the quiet sun gently pushes on our eyelids. we turn softly in the mounds of white cloth covering our bed, one or both of us making those slight moans of vague consciousness completely against our wills.projected profits4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we live in a house, or maybe a flat. it might be in europe, in one of the countries you visited when we found our ways back to one another. the buildings are smooth and white, but the garden is not lacking for colour. the greens are denser than water, the sky more saturated blue than our swimsuits, hanging off the lip of the small balcony.
maybe it's switzerland, or germany. neither of us speak the native language, but with signals and human understanding, we make our ways through.
in the mornings we both reach for our car keys. mine are on the table, yours are on the hook by the door. there is always coffee in the early
A bird cagedHe owned a small bird. A small red, trembling bird that could not stop fluttering and worriedly shake at every moment of the day.A bird caged2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He took care of it like it was his own life; the bird’s food was carefully prepared, its water clean and pure, its cage strong and protective.
He swore he would never let anything hurt it. If he had to live alone for the rest of his life, so be it; that bird handed to him was everything he needed. He knew many people wouldn’t understand, would try to pet it, and pet it too hard, and it would be crushed and maybe, dead.
He never thought the bird could feel lonely, because they were together. He never thought he could feel lonely, either.
All he asked for was to hear it beat against the cage bars with excitement and joy. He believed that with his caring, it would always be healthy and happy. Nothing could ever hurt it.
He took his bird on long walks and showed it beautiful sceneries, long mountains slopes, crystalline ocean waters. He always went a
catharsisthere was an ephemeral calm, when you wrapped your arms around me.catharsis3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
for a moment, i thought you were going to never let me go.
you told me i was stronger than this, and it amazed me that my brave face
could fool you too
i will fade away, become only the tear stains on my desk and the words i leave behind
and it will not matter to me that you cry, because it never mattered to you
lay my body to rest, and take comfort in my mother's tentative eyes
and the fact that maybe i didn't lie
when i said that i will love you
for the rest of my life
it's an analogy for you.your sweatshirt became ghost to me.it's an analogy for you.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
home.i press my cheek to the window and for a moment, all i am able to focus on is the pattern my breath plays along the glass. it is a simple emotion and a simple thought and the way my lungs collapse to force the air from between my pursed lips is enough to soak in the rest of my thoughts like a dry and waiting sponge. the voice of the person to my left is butter and velvet, sifting through the air - each and every syllable seeking through the space between us as if to find a resting place, as if with each moment suspended in the air they might be able to find a place to call home.home.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it is with reluctance that i turn my cheek, drawing myself back from the cool windowpane and i turn to them, my eyes blurred and disoriented. they are naught but colors; they are sea-foam and gravel, their eyes coming into focus to deepen into indigo. lovely, i remember myself thinking. the color of lovely. it is a game that i have always played; finding the colors of words as if i could paint a canvas with dri
the truth27.2.13the truth3 years ago in Letters More Like This
i still have photos of you from when you were sex, seven, eight. from two years ago, from last year. i put some of them away. i broke the glass on the collage you made me. i kept thinking maybe i could write a poem about it, but it sat on the table for a while and i never did. it's been three months and i still look at your shoulders and want to rest my head there. i can't help but wonder if you loved her. when they hold my arms down i close my eyes and think of you. i feel sick when i think about the party i left you alone at. i'll always tell you i'm fine until someone can do something about it. i could have laid on that grass forever. i hope one day, when i'm no longer around, you get to read all the letters i wrote and never gave you. i can't decide when i want that day to come. i never really did want to leave you, i just wanted to know what it felt like to want you. i wonder what has changed since then. i'm always waiting for you to text me. i know you probably won't. i w
cherry rumyou are playing with tape on the walls. my head is on your chest. my stomach curves to your side, you are warm and every breath you take is a miracle. any breath that anyone takes is a miracle. i ask you what you're thinking. you say nothing, but i know better, because i know when you are thinking nothing, and this isn't one of those times.cherry rum4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
well first let me describe your room. i am evident everywhere. you bought that flaming lips poster with me, i drove you there and held you back because you tried to cross the street when a car was coming. and you told me something that made me mad, i don't remember what it was, but you said something about how it was stupid i did that. and i got mad because i was just trying to take care of you. and then you understood me a little more, and i understood you a little more. i want to be a mother, and you want to be an adventurer, and i am both. i help you put up the cute palm tree lights hanging close to your ceiling. i stood on chairs, used power too
the better thingsthe better things6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
1. break the bones that burn under your skin, but believe in the blood that warms it. we are forever changed by the sweeter songs of the stars we fall from.
2. i won't look at you, or you, or you, and i know tomorrow when i sing for her you will all trip over the tile and your tongue but nothing will change outside of you. or me. we might miss each other terribly for two seconds, but we will be the same and i thank god for that
3. winter treats you well, orange ash boy. vermont expands your diaphragm and the girls are aching to fill it. (i am aching to fill it.) your freckles are there and not here, and i realize that i love you
4. i was cleaning out my car and vacuuming the backseat when i noticed a cigarette burn on the floor. and i thought, "how did this get here?" and then i thought, "oh." and i thought about all the people i don't talk to anymore, and it was okay. it really was
5. it was seventy three degrees friday when i was driving and i know it's not economically-conscious to
I Am AtlasI am Atlas.I Am Atlas6 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Condemned to bear the burden of the sky on my slender shoulders.
This pressure is splintering my bones; shredding my muscles; peeling back my skin.
My knees quiver as I am commanded to bow.
I cannot lift my head; the force along my spine will not allow me to.
All I am able to do, is submit.
My will is no longer a possession that I own.
An escaping soul pours out in a noble crimson--this body is no longer fit for it's inhabitance.
I am Atlas; and all I can do is wait for the sky to have enough mercy to crush me.
you're more than methere is a whole universe laying in the empty space between your rib bones. and whole, ever-expanding, glittering universe.you're more than me3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
in the quiet hours of the early morning, your arm resting beside mine, you told me about the sky. with words like the sun and the moon and the whole fucking phenomena of life itself, cigarette between your lips, you spoke as if you were talking to an empty room, syllables falling from the back of your throat into existence and then fading as fast as they were created. it was dark, but your eyes were open and i know it. you weren't looking at anything though, just the emptiness and the blue wash of my bedroom ceiling that in the deepest part of your existence, wasn't really a ceiling at all. it was the corners of our galaxy, and you were there, peeking out into the unknown. through the darkness, you found something there and you held onto it.
and god, i think you even smiled into that darkness. i wrapped myself around you, and wished on every star you could see i
the quiet things that no one ever knowsi hope you know i'm nothing.the quiet things that no one ever knows4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Caving Rib CageWe crossed at glacier paths on icicle footing;Caving Rib Cage4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
in the hollow and darkness of a cavern where we found each other a second time, you spoke to me.
You told me tales of bereavement, and that the most morbid of all is not slow demise but rather,
it is being killed, just a little bit.
I never thought it a possible plausible thing-
to kill a man, just a little bit.
The calcium in my bones precipitate at the thought as you beckon me from my limestone shelter.
How does one kill another just a little bit?
Give me deionized water and make me a paste;
clean all my tarnishes,
for I am no good as silver if I remain
senescent and dull.
I knew my skepticism was obliterated the day you, with your bedrock stature,
through your stalactite eyes and your stalagmite smile,
killed me just that little bit.
To have the one you love most fool/leave/betray you and still remain so in love with them-
worse yet, seeing the pe