palm readingsi exist in the city limits because i want the wind to make me frail.palm readings9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
fragile like a ghost,
a sorry sin i promise to abstain but inevitably commit.
my bus fare is a kick down memory lane.
i walk instead.
he told me i spun words that dissolved on the tongue
before he even had the chance to taste them.
he called me sugar like a midday ritual,
dressed me in compliments more fit for kings than commoners.
i turned complacent; comforted by new beginnings
and frightened by sudden endings.
my mother never taught me how to avoid heartache.
she only told me that my heart was a gold mine
and i should never let fake jewelry lay over it.
once, out of spite, i showed her my palms and asked what she saw.
she told me that in this world full of practice, there was no time for games.
when i showed him, he said that i am overworked.
now, it is the purgatory between autumn and winter that sinks my guts.
the waiting room lacks couches and candle scents.
the smiles are either plastic or
All I gave you was neglect.I am staring at your pictures, reading some heartbrokenAll I gave you was neglect.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and tough girl words that you post, and all I
can really say is that I love you and miss you;
you ignore my messages, and I can't blame you when
all I gave you was neglect, but we were
different people then. Today, I'm a broken girl, too;
really, I was yesterday, but I couldn't admit it yet, and
now that I can, I just want to remind you that
your pain is not unique, not to make you feel bad,
but just so that you can remember the love and devotion
that two girls with broken pieces form, and
that I love you. And miss you. I will trade conversations
for snatched information from facebook statuses,
but I will never accept that this is what we've become.
the King and his moon.i.the King and his moon.8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is an ode
to the King. We
watched him blow
away like an ocean
of black feathers,
and our Father muttered
that he was
forgiven, always, truly
forgiven. But we
all know that
nothing gold can
stay-- he had to
go. It was written.
that was when the
Queen cut her hair. Again,
we watched it fall to
her chamber floor
in heaps of strung
gold. But we already
knew that it would have
to go. We already
knew that she
would go, for it
was written, and it
was already forgiven.
the Prince grew up
with the memory of
black shoes and hair
littering the halls of
an empty palace. The
Queen was busy, always
busy, and then she was sick--
and then the Prince put on
his black robes for her, even
though he always remembered
her in shades of red.
on his father's throne,
the boy-king realized that
this was the place
that swallowed up his love,
and it gave way to war.
You know what they
say-- "A heartbrok
Vampire!Arthur x Reader: Part XVVampire!Arthur x Reader: Part XV2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You're in a place of fear." Good with Grenades.
My blood was no different from anyone else's. It was red; it tasted like iron, and ran through veins. However, they did mention how my blood was valuable somehow to others, but immediately mentioned Arthur. Arthur was practically king of vampires, most vampires feared him. This was the first time I heard of other vampires wanting to fight him, like the Nordic vampires. I never really realized that if I were to take out Arthur all the other vampires would attack humans more often. I glanced at Arthur; he seemed annoyed with what Berwald said. He slouched in his seat looking away from everyone else.
"Why my blood though?" I asked.
"Your Arthur's w'fe, no?" Berwald asked, even though he knew the exact answer.
"Her blood is much sweeter because of it " Alfred mumbled, "I've been getting an urge to bite her this whole time even Matt! And you know he has never had the urge to drink human blood." He exp
LiliyaBright-eyed,Liliya1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
mistress of light.
how you can manage to know so muchshe's barely an inch taller - but still taller -how you can manage to know so much1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
squinting at the horizon line and heaving tobacco smoke
through resin coated lungs that should belong to a
fourty three year old smoker, not an eighteen year old
she laughs the loudest when others cast glances
and hushed whispers
and never misses the chance to tell you
she couldn't possibly give less
of a shit
she likes convenience store mints;
the round white ones you'd find
at the bottom of grandma's purse that tasted like
dust and chemically sweetened perfume,
she went to a school where "dyke"
was spat like poison at her feet
but knew exactly what to say when three girls
cornered her, knew exactly how to throw her
words like fists
she gets hives from cats and grass and
practically anything outside her door
so she spends most of her time inside,
only leaving to have another
she listens to tool and radiohead
and smokes half a joint before bed to help her sleep
but she still doesn't; not for long
and she twitc
Americaxreader Books -Oneshot-Americaxreader Books -Oneshot-2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The library. The only place you like to go. Shelves full of books, peace and quiet, and more shelves of books! And you were lucky to actually to work in your school library for last block. Relaxing in the library counter, you read your favorite manga.You were about to turn the page when a group of fan girls came pass you, squeling so loud. You look at them with an irritated face and thought bitterly 'Alfred is in the library....'
Thru out your time working at the library, you notice that a boy came to the library; excatally at last block. His name was Alfred F. Jones. For you, he looked like a normal student who went to the library. Later on you’re found out he was the most popular person in school. You didn’t really mind him being there; he always quiet and he looks like he studying. Also you liked to look at him when you had nothing else to do. But the thing you hate having him here is his immense fan girl groups.
They made a lot of squeaking squealing noises. It really
I am trying to be honest,but I write so fucking floweryI am trying to be honest,1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it makes me sick,
rose scented stars & love.
Her: helpless as a lamb,
I want raw, aching
bone against bone
exploring the exposed, naked
poetry of her universe-
( warm, celestial hands
forging sandcastle ribs. )
Southern earth beneath her feet,
wanderlust burned like Apollo's touch
into her spinal cord, please awaken
the empty space between her skin
whiskeyShewhiskey1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
in one slow,
I heard it plunge
into the gaping
emptiness of her.
drank the sun
from my fingertips,
licked me from her lips,
look better dead, plucked
from your November pores."
"They go down smoothest
with Writers Tears."
Ata Interview Transcript.Ata Interview Transcript.2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Interview with Endling
Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is *thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview `Endling, an incredibly talented comic artist and creator of many of your favorite series on deviantART.
Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, Endling.
Hey all you folks there in AtAChat! Go ahead and start posting questions now.
Thanks for having me Fluff!
I warn everyone I'm on my second triple espresso coffee of the day. If my answers are incoherent and/or jittery you'll know why. I'M WIRED TO GO.
*RedVenture asks "How did you get started doing art, Endling?"
When I was little, my dad would bring home paper from his job. He worked with computers and stuff and often had tons of it lying around, so I'd make use of it and draw. (With his permission. Occasionally.) After a while he noticed I had a habit of doing this. Usually robot caterpillars. I'm not kidding
The Truth About Selling FanartUpdate notice as of January 17, 2013: I have given this guide a MAJOR overhaul. It was originally written over a year and a half ago, and since then my own views and understanding of copyrights has changed. I felt that this guide should reflect those changes, so if you read this guide in the past, please take a moment to look through it again as I have added MANY new topics, information, and sources. Unlike my first draft, I have also changed my viewpoint to neutral throughout this writing.The Truth About Selling Fanart3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Disclaimer: I am not a lawyer, nor any kind of professional that works in dealing with laws or copyrights. This guide was written based on my own research and understanding of copyright laws, and from discussions with others knowledgeable of the subject. These facts are all sourced from U.S. law. I encourage others to do their own research and draw informed conclusions on how they would like to pursue the issue of selling fanart.
The Truth About Selling Fanart
Fanart is somethin
To one who once was a friendOur ship has left its port,To one who once was a friend1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
no more time remains.
Togetherness is lost
but the memories won’t fade away.
You are like the wind,
searching the world without knowing why.
Never finding what you need
and you wouldn’t stay by my side.
I am like a rock,
staying strong even when the waves are crashing,
never giving up
and I won’t keep begging
You to come back
You were the sea that would leave with the waves,
I was the cliffs that would keep you safe.
I was the sand that forever would stay,
You were the wind that would blow it away.
You are like the wind
and I am like a rock.
Why did we even begin
with something that now forever is lost?
dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
The dynamic between core staff, volunteer staff, and the community can at times be pure quality dArama.
It's worth noting that for years I've worked pretty hard to remain neutral on community politics. Today, I'm going to shatter that concept.
Needless to say, I am extremely politically aware of the inner workings of the deviantART community. I read *a lot* of journals, comments, forums, chat rooms. I have fake accounts. I spy.
But I don't spend my time talking politics, instead I focus internally at deviantART designing technologies and implementing understandings with core staff to address the issues I see pop up.
It's time to take a moment to be a bit more petty.
In the inner workings of our politics exists the soul of deviantART. What is this place? What was it meant to do? What does it do? What could we do better? And it's the politics that give insight into how well the greater plan is running.
There's $core staff who are employees or contractors and work 8+
Introductions"Hi, I'm-"Introductions3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I know who you are."
"You're the guy who thinks he's invisible."
"I have a name-"
"It isn't important. Because you really don't think it's important."
"All right. Since we've started out this way, let me just tell you, I know you too."
"You're the girl who is broken."
"I am not broken."
"You're the girl whose eyes close every night and open the next morning, only to find you have never slept at all."
"I sleep well. Besides-"
"You're the girl who dreams of a happy ending even though she has seen seventeen...no, eighteen unhappy ones in her eighteen years."
"Happy endings are over rated. And you're-"
"You're the girl who wants something bigger, something stronger, just so the weakness in her body becomes something so much more."
"You don't understand weakness the way-"
"You're the girl whose heart broke when she was so young, and she fixed it back together with superglue, but cannot ignore the cracks."
"Superglue makes for a good companion, especially when-"
Rhyden InformationRhyden Information2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Nickname(s): Rhy, Denny
Righty or lefty: Lefty
Weight: 173 lbs
Eye Color: Deep red
Hair Color: Currently Black w/ red streaks (Originally Light Brown)
- Two birthmarks under his Left eye and a few on his lower back.
- Spider bites
- Rhyden has a slim but a bit muscular body. His hair reaching to
his neck, and bangs covering his right eye(nothing hidden, just
kept it as a hairstyle). He eyes droop a bit. his posture is very laid
back, his fingertips usually covered in bandaids, trying to play
guitar. The most he wears is sweatshirts with designs of
bands/logos/etc, followed by skinny jeans and leather boots.
Died at 32(when Rhy was 16), unable to fight the Influenza. She
was the one closest to Rhyden, due to the fact she brought him to
school from time to time and his father was working alot. She
raised him nicely to make sure he wouldnt worry about anything
Deep blueIn a dreamDeep blue1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
where I am at peace
I envision the ocean
and being devoured by it
I vision falling into the dark abyss
being consumed by the violent waves
crushing against my lungs
constricting my breath
slowly fading away
short of breath
The ocean is a beautiful thing
so vicious, yet so placid
such calmness amongst the ruthlessness
the majestic, ancient creatures lurking deep in the deepest of blue
ready to thrash
I will never take on the ocean
because of the brutal honesty
the terrifying actualization of existing
knowing how small you are
and that you will never understand the vastness of the ocean
because you are so insignificant
because you are so oblivious to pure destruction
tangled in the form of beauty
to be suffocated by beauty
is not out of the ordinary
because that is what I suffer from
this horrible condition
leaves me breathless and
constantly yearning for more
My soul swims in the ocean
deep, deep, deep below sea level
I will never find it
I will never know b
fuck, here we go again.the back roads--fuck, here we go again.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a water bottle full of
god knows what,
and it burns a little going down.
that's okay. we all need that,
we touched a windmill.
and we leaned against it,
pointing at radio towers
with cheap cigarettes dangling between our lips
before we kissed,
sober, this time
stars screamed at us.
this is why
you like the country.
i wondered about our smoke
creating the stars
as it drifts out of our lungs
in clouds of post-code envy
(god, we need to get away from here).
that would take a long time.
that's okay. we've got time.