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dream inducing pillowsIn one seocond I am reading in the next I am sleeping
found by a father who seems to belong to me!
My size is quite comfortable so fitting and familiar
not like poor alice’s who grows out and up peculiar.
my window is gaunt, ancient and reveling
only letting away shallow misty breathing
Fortunately nobody points their head and kids continue to frolic
I draw no attention myself, these sheets so smothering
Meanwhile the temprature sears from piping hot to the cold of stone.
Am I still awake?
My limbs are the same in height the clocks are phasing.
Prehaps i am sleeping Ha.
and with this realisation i listen in intently,
into my pillow that this dream is depending.
RIDEnvelope within this thinning air;
Allow breathing in ease.
Dont keep the atmosphere heavy
They are heaving,
Tip toeing on the ground ridden with desease where footsteps are misplaced.
Transfuse with the surrounding light and mirror or even Take up Translucency.
Dont let being block anything beyond it.
They are squinting,
Many eyes burning.
Create illusions of the eye
Let voice ring within white noise
The static will cleanse all impurities
Their ears still bleeding
muscles fitfully twitching.
Morningslong and drawn out inhalations
Flustered cheaks and a sudden restlessness
Lungs burning, head spinning
Body shaking vision blurring
Rain against glass spells doom and gloom for most but being a day like today, bliss is all that dances benieth the foggy window pane. lying here for a few more hours wont prohibit the earths rotation, conversations will continue to spark and people will roam the land like ghostly figures weaving through time. May I distatch myself for a couple more minutes? The boiler still rumbles and charasmatic voices sing low benith the floor boards. May I just close my eyes for a few seconds? the sun wont stop setting regardless of my witnessing. For a moment longer, the world will not stop even deprived of my participation. It will learn to grow without another voice in its mists. I'll get up soon, but my dear earth, you must learn to hold your breath.
another cliche poem .-.Athough you give me shifty eyes
That sticks to your direction
I cant help notice your blissful sighs
And awe at your perfection
Although you keep me on the edge
Perched high on fluid ground
I cant help trod this brittle ledge
Just so you are sound
And although my heart knows not of love
From savage heartbreake afore
I cant help forge a rapid pulse
When you walk through the door
when hit which is felt first, pain or pressure?The brick wall slammed first against my defending hands, effortlessly shattering brittle bones. I had not yet registered the collision regardless the fact I had forseen this wall heading towards me many miles before. Immense pain, sharing the same path as lighting, diverged its way to my collarbone.
Anything left of my hands, once machines of creation, was a little less than a compact mass of flesh, bone and blood. My knees,oh my knees; I couldent bare to look down at what had come of my knees! I My skull, brain and mind once throbbing in groth, had been compressed. Was it pain or pressure I felt?
ProgrammedYou are programmed for self destruction
Diseased with leaching viruses
Destroying for a promised peace
Sabotaging rabid with delusion
But of course it will not come
Oh how this tricky has consumed you
You thought it had ended did you not?
Well I'm terribly sorry
I can’t let you win
Nothing is owed to you
You will be left with nil
Because it’s the least I can do
Say thank you
10110110And so they sing. Riddle upon riddle, word upon word. It seems all that radiates from their gaping mouths are deafening tones. Wave upon wave come the discorded banter. What am I to do with this senseless shit?
Somebody please transcribe this intrusive nonsense;
for I cannot listen, but only hear...
and Im one chord short of sane
Moment of death (part 1)
Fog seeped effortlessly into the cracks of the small, hollow window. Creeping solemnly, it surrounded the lone figure, daring not to disturb its restless sleep. It danced around the silver floor as if it owned the place and through the grey abyss sang a low slow; thump, thump, thump. White noise gradually filled the room as the thumping grew louder and faster, surely poisoning the ears of silent ghosts that roam the heavy air. However it was not nearly enough to awake the slumped, shadowed body. The thumps became booms.
“DON’T!” he screeched. His own heart beat awoke him from the twisted dreams of faces he use to know. He turned slightly to face the patch of light that lay across the cold metallic ground; the light rays were less comforting than he had hoped. He looked
wordwords, the bullets lined with silver.
they are sharpened but become blunt with time.
the difference it makes?none.
they penetrate their hearts desolating those poor wounded souls.
emptying every warmth left inside.
don't ever tell me words do not hurt, you sing lies.
for all of the offence intended and the people left unmended
you pull the trigger.
those who say words do not hurt are deluded.
Daddy!LevixChild!Reader - The Hard Stuff
Levi looked down at his daughter. She stood timidly near the doorway, fiddling with the large towel in her hands. Her hair was still soaked from the bath she had taken not minutes ago, and droplets of water fell from the glossy strands and onto her yellow nightgown.
“What, _____?” he said in his usual cold tone, though _____ knew it wasn’t completely intentional.
The six-year-old looked down at the peach-colored towel clutched in her tiny fingers. “U-Um, Mommy always helps me dry my hair. . .”
Levi sighed softly and sat up on the couch, motioning _____ to come closer. When she did, he sat her down on the floor in front of him and took the towel from her hands. He spread the towel over her small head and gently massaged it through the towel. He wrapped the towel around her long strands and proceeded to knead the water out of them.
“Daddy, where’s Mommy?” _____ asked, turning her head to look at her father.
BertholdtxReader - Cynophobia [AU]
cynophobia - (n.) the fear of dogs
“Man, how long has it been since you’ve been to my house?”
“A month, I think,” Bertholdt replied from the front passenger seat as I drove down the empty road.
“Seems like more to me,” I commented, propping an elbow on the armrest between me and my friend. “I think my parents are still at work, so we’ll probably be alone with Maes.”
“Maes?” he said, confused.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell you? I got a dog a couple weeks ago.”
I felt Bertholdt freeze beside me. “A-A dog?”
“Yeah. A two-year-old pit bull.” I turned into my neighborhood and relaxed into the seat when I slowed down the car. “I thought you knew. Even Levi knows—and now he refuses to come over now because he thinks my place is completely covered in dog crap.”
Bertholdt made what sounded like a forced chuckle, rubbing his hands on his pant legs. “S-So, um,
The InfomercialThe Infomercial
(This story is from the upcoming MagnusMagneto Musclethology #1. It's a collection of three short stories that will be given exclusively to those who support me on Patreon. These stories will be even more whimsical than my usual stuff, foregoing character development and scientific explanations for more light-hearted fare.
If you want access to this story in PDF format along with two more tales of similar length and light-hearted tone, consider becoming a Patron of mine before July 31st! http://www.patreon.com/magnusmagneto
There are also a few references/homages to other FMG works/authors and the femmuscle community in general. All done out of total respect and admiration. See how many you get!)
“Welcome folks to the infomercial event of the year!” A tall, attractive woman with bright auburn hair and piercing blue eyes faced the camera with a bright, white smile. She wore skimpy blue workout clothes
Death Battle: Scorpion vs. Hellboy
Roy: Alright the combatants are set, we have taken every angle into account and we have found ourselves a verdict.
Ivan: Let us watch the Hellfire ninja attempt to break his streak.
Roy: So, it's time for a Death Battle!
Ivan: So enthusiastic...
Roy: What? Just because I stole your line-
Ivan: IT'S TIME FOR A DEATH BATTLE!!!!
It was quiet that night. No one was out of their home, probably because of the big red demon walking about. Hellboy stepped out of a nearby pancake house, the owner watching his demonic customer exit the restaurant. His breath reeked of pancakes and beer.
Hellboy pulled out a wrinkled and folded-up piece of paper. It had "DEATH BATTLE" written at the top. Hellboy looked at it as he found the opponents name on the paper.
"Scorpion." Hellboy read aloud as he checked the area. He didn't see anything. Meanwhile in the depths of hell a yell was heard. A yellow clad ninja walked out of a blazing fire, a chain hanging from his arm. It was Scorpion.
Tell me story"Why you read zat book, hmm?"
Victor had come to pay a visit to his Princess, whom he had found up in her library -as always- reading her afternoon away. Though he rather liked it when she read, especially when she read aloud to him. The sound of her voice was always soothing (and exotic, with that accent she had) and he always found it a treat when she offered to read to him.
So after she chose a book, they had left the libary and gone to her room, where she gathered up her pillows and made a sort of nest for them. Oh, this he really liked. Not so much the pillows (too soft for his taste) but more that he got to snuggle up next to her.
His finger curled and uncurled her strand of hair idly, resting his chin upon her shoulder as he looked over the words of her books. So many words, and no pictures? How did she stand to read so much without pictures?
"I's one o' mah favorites in this book." was her answer, holding up the large book, the title of 'Grimms Fairytails' written across it. "I
AmericaXReader: Unexpected Courage “Where is he?” you questioned as you stood in front of the bus stop waiting for your friend. He wanted you to meet him there because he had something “really fun” planned for the day. It was five o’clock when you finally saw him running toward you.
“Hey, dudette! Sorry for the wait,” he bent over softly panting, “it’s just that-”
“It’s fine, Alfred. I just want to know what you have planned,” you looked into his blue eyes with excitement.
“Okay, but you have to close your eyes,” he winked at you.
Fallen MothHe'd put it off long enough, but it had been a few days now since he had sent Hushedsnow off, she'd mentioned something about Highclan, although personally he hoped she'd ended up in Leafclan - he didn't know of any Dark Forest Cats there. He wanted her to be safe, but hopefully it would only be for a short time more.
The Clan was preoccupied with the sharks, and Aspenstar had left the Nursery so she could give orders more efficiently from The Leader's Den.
Getting Aspenstar alone had been one of the hardest parts of the plan, with Crystalshimmer and all those kits in the Nursery, as well as Shadowcliff moving in and out all the time, but it seemed these sharks had arrived as a gift - although he was pretty sure even The Dark Forest couldn't have arranged that one.
Mothlight had been watching The Leader's Den all day, getting to know how regularly Warriors would appear and which ones appeared more often, working out the spacing between their trips. It seemed that the times Tigers
Here's to you, coconut man.We found the coconut man on Seven Mile Beach. His bag held dozens of coconuts, a machete and a bottle of rum. For five dollars each we drank island-made dark liquor and scraped our teeth against the flesh of our cups. Buzzed in the blazing mid-day sun, we sank into the sand and let the gentle swell wash over our toes.
The water was aquamarine and warm; the Caribbean Sea breathing a calm wind over the shore. For a while we just lay there breathing in the salty air, luxuriating in the heat, our bodies unceremoniously slack against the beach.
It was the changing tide that sobered us; sneaky little waves crawled up the shore tickling my skin in its wake. Our feet carried us up and down the coast, seashells finding their way into our pockets and the coconut man was never too far away for a refill.
We were hammock bound as the sun dipped low, our eyes hopelessly glued to a sunset that turned both sea and sky into fire. We slept well that night, our limbs heavy, our skin tan and our minds awa
Spot the liarthis little story is based on my own quote: "How can a person think if so many voices are screaming at them?"
what? Did you just smile? .Cover your face and feel the cold, red-rich blood stick to your skin.It still smells of him.That guy that use to be happy for the both of you.What did you do? Numb your mind of what you've done and get the hell out of there. No don't you cant look back. Its too late.Run as fast as humanly possible you selfish idiot, do you want to surrender to guilt?Let yourself tremor with rage...THIS IS FOR YOURSELF YOU BASTARD... FEEL GRATEFUL".No mercy
He Stabs Furiously at the fleshy mess.Each time the blade meets his bare arm they wince and smile, hiding the agonising reality that they cannot stop them himself he continues to strike, each one more painful than the last. It's if the pain is trying to escape in form of a smile. He stop. satisfied that its over. Slowly he bring the b
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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