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I'll Tell You a Story.
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Self Portrait (wips)
2
5
C
Character Creation Music Meme
To begin, put your music player on shuffle. Just listen during each song. Afterwards, pause or repeat the song as you write the description or story. In each section, write the artist and title of the song. 1. Protagonist one:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 2. Protagonist two:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 3. Antagonist:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 4. Important secondary character: (You can add as many of these as you want)   Title of song~   Description of character~ 5. Title taken from a line of lyrics:   TITLE:   Title of song~ 6. Plot inspired by song:   Title of song~   PLOT
D
Dead Souls
Poets have the deadest souls because there are words there paper dry. Poets have the warmest souls because paper burns-- and it burns bright. Poets have the deadest souls because words have meaning beyond what they mean and sometimes it just takes our breath away to fall into the endless wells and pits that hold the syllables that flow so endlessly from our parched lips. Words mean something with a death penalty on your head.
S
Something Scientific
I fell in love with the end of an era like bicycle chains and bottles of liquor. Long walks on beaches all covered in rocks there's something scientific that's holding us back. Like tides pulling in and out under the moon's watchful gaze, like cherry popsicles and carbonated rage. Children come home all scrapped and bruised from picking up dandelions and soccer ball blues. There's something scientific about memories in the brain like lighting storms and torrential rain. When the end of an era brings our histories back to where we belong we'll sit on the couch and toast to our homes.
S
Stars and Cigarettes
i. We stand apart and cross our hearts and swear to never tell the secrets that stars and cigarettes can impart. We fly like gods across the skies, comets and shooting stars. To leave the Earth behind, our celestial home, would be a journey that dreams are made of. To fly with the moon and far beyond is better known by man or beast than our own home. ii. Drug store loose change, quarters on the counter. Smoke signals tell a warning, cooling in the air. Snakes of the mind undulate and restrict in ways we cannot define. When you fight the thing that kills you before you die it's like seeing the future. Save someone else to suffer your
w
where
i'm homesick for an imaginary place
A
Atlas
cloudy sky sunlight starry night bright the world relies on your strength on your shoulders we rely moonless evening pelting hail blizzards flurries rainstorms atlas shrugs storm clouds ripple men stare in silence at nature's silent havoc and atlas held the world and reminded us that we could be safe beneath his reaching arms.
A
A Portrait of Self in Letters and Lines
There's a dent in my nose, constellations around my eyes and scars on my knees arms and thighs. There's a pitch in my voice that you'd only ever hear when electrostatic frequencies carry my lips to your ears. There's a beat in my heart, a weight in my lungs, cracks on my fingers and thumbs. Naïvety reigns in the darkest corners that it still manages to hide. Under average, over age-ed, future is... waiting.
F
Find Your Way
My heart is wandering along an endless road my dear won't you help me see? I'd love to help you but I'm afraid that I am just as lost as you, trapped out to sea. I wish that I was not afraid, I wish that I was not so hidden from myself. I wish that I was not adrift I wish that we were not so far from our goals, but oh (oh, oh) It looks like we're just far apart. I wish that I could find my way (I could find my way) And we could close our eyes (Close our eyes) And there we could be standing Hand in hand. Sometimes I think that we're just in a hopeless mess of mystery. Sometimes I know my dear that we were meant to be And other times
F
Fire
the unpredictable f l i c k e r i n g nature of flame draws us in and pulls us out. your hair crackles red and burning and cataclysmic. you are the question of why without an answer. you are the light in the dark without ever meaning to be. when asked for directions, you deliver— grudgingly. unpredictable wildfire, a force of nature. lighting on an empty plane.
See all
Self Portrait (wips)
2
5
C
Character Creation Music Meme
To begin, put your music player on shuffle. Just listen during each song. Afterwards, pause or repeat the song as you write the description or story. In each section, write the artist and title of the song. 1. Protagonist one:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 2. Protagonist two:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 3. Antagonist:   Title of song~   Description of character~ 4. Important secondary character: (You can add as many of these as you want)   Title of song~   Description of character~ 5. Title taken from a line of lyrics:   TITLE:   Title of song~ 6. Plot inspired by song:   Title of song~   PLOT
D
Dead Souls
Poets have the deadest souls because there are words there paper dry. Poets have the warmest souls because paper burns-- and it burns bright. Poets have the deadest souls because words have meaning beyond what they mean and sometimes it just takes our breath away to fall into the endless wells and pits that hold the syllables that flow so endlessly from our parched lips. Words mean something with a death penalty on your head.
S
Something Scientific
I fell in love with the end of an era like bicycle chains and bottles of liquor. Long walks on beaches all covered in rocks there's something scientific that's holding us back. Like tides pulling in and out under the moon's watchful gaze, like cherry popsicles and carbonated rage. Children come home all scrapped and bruised from picking up dandelions and soccer ball blues. There's something scientific about memories in the brain like lighting storms and torrential rain. When the end of an era brings our histories back to where we belong we'll sit on the couch and toast to our homes.
S
Stars and Cigarettes
i. We stand apart and cross our hearts and swear to never tell the secrets that stars and cigarettes can impart. We fly like gods across the skies, comets and shooting stars. To leave the Earth behind, our celestial home, would be a journey that dreams are made of. To fly with the moon and far beyond is better known by man or beast than our own home. ii. Drug store loose change, quarters on the counter. Smoke signals tell a warning, cooling in the air. Snakes of the mind undulate and restrict in ways we cannot define. When you fight the thing that kills you before you die it's like seeing the future. Save someone else to suffer your
w
where
i'm homesick for an imaginary place
A
Atlas
cloudy sky sunlight starry night bright the world relies on your strength on your shoulders we rely moonless evening pelting hail blizzards flurries rainstorms atlas shrugs storm clouds ripple men stare in silence at nature's silent havoc and atlas held the world and reminded us that we could be safe beneath his reaching arms.
A
A Portrait of Self in Letters and Lines
There's a dent in my nose, constellations around my eyes and scars on my knees arms and thighs. There's a pitch in my voice that you'd only ever hear when electrostatic frequencies carry my lips to your ears. There's a beat in my heart, a weight in my lungs, cracks on my fingers and thumbs. Naïvety reigns in the darkest corners that it still manages to hide. Under average, over age-ed, future is... waiting.
F
Find Your Way
My heart is wandering along an endless road my dear won't you help me see? I'd love to help you but I'm afraid that I am just as lost as you, trapped out to sea. I wish that I was not afraid, I wish that I was not so hidden from myself. I wish that I was not adrift I wish that we were not so far from our goals, but oh (oh, oh) It looks like we're just far apart. I wish that I could find my way (I could find my way) And we could close our eyes (Close our eyes) And there we could be standing Hand in hand. Sometimes I think that we're just in a hopeless mess of mystery. Sometimes I know my dear that we were meant to be And other times
D
Dead Souls
Poets have the deadest souls because there are words there paper dry. Poets have the warmest souls because paper burns-- and it burns bright. Poets have the deadest souls because words have meaning beyond what they mean and sometimes it just takes our breath away to fall into the endless wells and pits that hold the syllables that flow so endlessly from our parched lips. Words mean something with a death penalty on your head.
S
Something Scientific
I fell in love with the end of an era like bicycle chains and bottles of liquor. Long walks on beaches all covered in rocks there's something scientific that's holding us back. Like tides pulling in and out under the moon's watchful gaze, like cherry popsicles and carbonated rage. Children come home all scrapped and bruised from picking up dandelions and soccer ball blues. There's something scientific about memories in the brain like lighting storms and torrential rain. When the end of an era brings our histories back to where we belong we'll sit on the couch and toast to our homes.
S
Stars and Cigarettes
i. We stand apart and cross our hearts and swear to never tell the secrets that stars and cigarettes can impart. We fly like gods across the skies, comets and shooting stars. To leave the Earth behind, our celestial home, would be a journey that dreams are made of. To fly with the moon and far beyond is better known by man or beast than our own home. ii. Drug store loose change, quarters on the counter. Smoke signals tell a warning, cooling in the air. Snakes of the mind undulate and restrict in ways we cannot define. When you fight the thing that kills you before you die it's like seeing the future. Save someone else to suffer your
H
Hand-Me-Down Hurricanes
She was born in a disaster zone on the 12th of never and it stretched through into forever. She aged like a firework, all sparkles and bright lights, went out with a bang, falling into ash and nothing at all. Tornadoes adorned her hair and earthquakes were her shoes and she wore hand-me-down hurricanes from her mother like warm woolen sweaters. Raindrops glistened instead of jewels. She courted conflict and it loved her like all the times her father slapped her. She didn't know affection from anything but the back of a hand, enveloped in self-destruction. She found herself in monsters on the screen bold in black and white because everyt
F
Famous People
Famous people make me want to scream. Famous people make me want to rip my face off and throw it to a flock of seagulls, like the ones in the third Indiana Jones movie. Because I am nothing. Like a splatter of blue ink on a blue line of a sheet of college ruled paper upon which you are writing in black, I am nothing. Famous people make you unimportant because when they share their troubles, they are brave--but when I do it I am whining. And, truthfully, this too is even a whine, a shriek, a scream at the world for making me feel this way. The fact that you're not important till your face is on a tabloid or a movie poster or an album and you
T
The Fates
    Feeling almost giddy, once I found myself far enough away from the inn, I threw my head back and laughed into the wind. The pure insanity of my situation was almost too much for me to bear. It was a hopeless prospect, searching the realm over to find something that should rightfully have been in my blood and yet was missing. One of the few things in my life I had not stolen, (Apples and cloaks and money and hammers and relationships, none of which should have belonged to me, I had taken them at my pleasure.) and it was lost to me. The one thing I had had even before Odin drew me from the chaos that reigned outside of Asgard, and it was go
e
ending.
Black pavement, sun bleached ashen gray rolls under tires like    the last stretch of tile    in the terminally ill ward. Hospital beds creak under bodies too weak, and cancer is clichéd in a thousand and one ways    like Arabian thieves in the night,    they suck us dry    like stories in the sky. It's so romantic-- in a way-- but that doesn't stop our dying. Suicidal authors write stories in red ink reminiscent of blood and broken-hearted hubris, too hollow inside    to find the time    to write on lines,    scribbles cross the page a maze that we're all trapped inside. Sun lightened pavement isn't black, like old age cra
A
An Obsession with Death
They say I am abnormal with a desire to die, but they do not see the chaos that does lie just beneath the surface of their pretty little apple pie existence. (In truth I find it more like vinegar to a fly.) Whenever I sit down to speak with a "normal" sort of person I find myself bombarded with images of poison! Disease, decay, and war, they scream. Mass shootings, murder, and suicide they roar into my ears 'till I know not else but what to think! To tell the truth, (for I cannot lie as I have been indoctrinated by a truth-seeking girl of July) I seem to find that you who do not have any problems with your head are the ones who should be i
T
The Elegiac of Ragnarok
The world could end in many a way, but Frost perhaps was righter than he though in terms of fire and ice. The giants of frost came through the halls of Odin the god with a debt to collect for the trickster— his once brother, a Jötnnar by the name Loki. Ragnarök was brought by Loki’s fury, his loss of patience in the way he spend all his days; disgraced, disrespected, only known as the trickster pest. He was more than that, he was a deity of fire. Alas, it was too late for the Allfather Odin to right any wrongs done to the lord of frost. The castles of Asgard were covered in frost, unnatural in its form and c
M
Maybe We Aren't Jaded
Maybe we aren't jaded, at least not yet. There's hope that little white boys and little white girls can play with little black boys and little black girls and kiss whomever they choose. World peace is closer than the politicians wish it to appear and lending libraries still exist-- like free intergalactic travel tickets. Maybe we aren't jaded, not 100% and when we say that we won't judge at least some of us mean it yet. School is free for some of the world, even as we moan and groan-- there's still knowledge for us to use and find a way to stop the end of the world. Maybe we aren't jaded, not quite yet.
P
Poison
  "Hmm..." Vera lay casually on the couch, grimacing at the newspaper while her green eyes darted across the pages. "You getting anything, Vance?" she asked with a yawn. "'Cause all I'm finding are a bunch of speeding tickets."  "No," a man in a grey business suit replied. He was sitting in a brown leather armchair, casually holding a mug of coffee in his right hand and a newspaper in his left. "But then, I've been reading an article on the recent outbreak of an extremely lethal virus here in Boston. Only a select few are getting it, mostly frail or elderly-"  "Ooh!" Vera sat up excitedly, a giddy smile on her face. "There was a hit and r
Commission for ExquisitelyExplicit
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Spotlight

I
Icarus's Lover
You knew too well the forgotten dreams and yearnings of the unfathomable deep. I wish you had been well but instead you claimed the sky as your own with bright golden wings and a heart of hollowed anvil stone. You dreamed too hard to ever know the meaning and the weariness of the life that surrounded you. {your father had too many hopes to be balanced by his dreams} With a rushing noise that stole my breath and broke my heart you ascended, far . . . far too high! The air, it burned, the sun, it beat, and your beautiful dreams of china and steam were lost as you fell; shattered on earth or carried by the wind. The sea accepted you like
27
35
August 21, 1996
United States
Deviant for 8 years
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More College~
We just registered for classes today and OMG IM SO EXCITED THO. There was no more room in either section of Intro Topics in Creative Writing so my first year advisor, who is also head of the English department, signed off for me to go into the Fiction Writing workshop I which is a 200 level course!!!!! :heart::heart::heart::heart: I'm also taking Film studies I, cultural anthropology, and a graphic novel class which is my "FYS" section (First year seminar, it's like an introduction to college style class). Then I have two partial credits in film festival, where we watch a movie Sunday afternoons and write a response piece to be turned in la
College
ughhhh what is free time I'm like never on here anymore. D: I'll try to be better but it certainly won't be this week! Drive down to Iowa tonight and I'll be moving into my dorm room on Thursday. I'm going to miss my cat :cries: I'm also really disappointed because I realized I probably won't be able to dye my hair next summer. For the past, like, six years I've gotten my hair dyed purple but if I want to start doing internships, I may need to stop for a while. After I'm established somewhere or am able to make it in an artistic career, I can go back to it. I've actually been writing a lot, working on the third draft edition of The Assassi
Baaackk~~
Hey-o, everyone, I'm back! The trip was hella crazy omg and I'm still recovering from jet lag, about 7 hours off my home timezone. I keep waking up really early in the morning. I can go into more detail if anyone wants in the comments, but I won't write about eeeverything in here. Dublin was super awesome and I would definitely recommend everyone go if they ever get the chance. There are lots of free museums all over the city and also their train system is literally the best I've ever been on. They're all super clean and the rides are smooth and once you get used to the maps, they're really nice. Also, for people who are Catholic, there ar

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ei9's avatar
Happy Early Birthday wishes to you next week Ariella and may it be totally fabulous Hun!
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ei9's avatar
Happy Early Birthday to you next week Ariella my dear and may it be a Most beautiful and Blessed one!
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DylanCArt's avatar
DylanCArt|Student General Artist
Hello I DylanCart I make crossover story's do you want to read my story's ?
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Iglybo's avatar
Happy birthday :la: :cake:
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ei9's avatar
Early Birthday wishes to you Ariella and may it be both a beautiful and blessed one for you and your family!
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staleydm01's avatar
staleydm01|Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Ariella is the most beautiful name ever, you said to another cosplayer that you were better at being Hermione than Luna so do you have any images as I love Harry Potter cosplaying.
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Iglybo's avatar
HAPPY BIRTHDAY :cake:
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