You used to draw on my back with your fingers. Your hands were the brushes and my skin, the canvas. Hearts went in the hollow of my back, arrows along my spine, indiscernible emoticons between my ribs. Sometimes you'd tell a story comprised of stick figures and song lyrics.(more) Sometimes you'd write 'I LOVE YOU' over and over until my back felt red and raw.
Wendy's lips pursed, and she cocked an eyebrow at the boy before her. "And?"
"I don't know!" Peter exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. "Children? Beautiful, wonderful, free, adventurous! Tree-dwellers and nymphs of the forest. Ancient and restless and pure and great!"
She couldn't help but let her(more) laughter escape -- he was so truly brilliant. "And is that all?" She no longer cared for the real answer; she wanted only to hear his nonsense in full.
Peter had stopped, now resting at the foot of her bed, with his back to her, arms stretched wide above him. His voice had lowered to barely above a whisper. "We are the Lost. And we need you, Wendy."
His change of manner surprised her, and she blushed, reached towards him, and sealed her fate. "Yes. I'll come with you."
in a tiny
(more) and sound
in our own little
of galaxies around us
but we have yet
have the audacity
because our time
we've just been
We are sitting in front of each other, chatting away as the sun rises and the moon shines on. We hold out our hands and wish we could touch, our fingers groping at glass making clicking sounds with our nails. The conversation splinters into "I miss you"s and "I(more) wish"s and then falls to silence.
We know it may feel like we're sitting in front of each other but even the internet can't erase 319 miles. (less)
"So.... what now?" He shuffled along beside her, knowing despite her parent's answers he was still in trouble.
She huffed. "We're invalids."
"No, that's you with a broken arm and recovering from getting run through with a sword."
"Well, you decided to play scientific experiment with my parents(more) while I'm in a coma."
"That's my decision."
"But it's my fault, if you hadn't followed me..."
"That was my choice. When are you going to get that, Kira?" He said, turning to face her.
"So now you're different, from your family, from your friends, from anything else."
A grin spread over his face "That never stopped you. Now we can both be different. It never stopped you before, and it's not going to stop me now."(less)
society is obsessed with labels.
there are brands: designer, knock-offs---i never understood the obsession with it. who gives a fuck if your bag is louis vuitton or coach? if it holds things and makes you happy then let's move on.
we're obsessed with who's dating who, and who's th(more)e queen bee, and oh my god did you hear that she likes him but he slept with her?
and this is not to say that i don't do this. it's wired into our machinery; we are little minions programmed to care, to care about everything and anything and its what makes our hearts tick and brains whir.
but wouldn't it be nice if we were more concerned with living than having people know how we lived?
We, confused by what we think, hardened by what we feel, atrophied by what we do, are living in reverse. How can this be set right? Surely those living backwards cannot make their current run forward again...
There was nothing but the three of them on that beach, the city they'd just destroyed behind them. Daisuke and Henry were busy with each other, having decided that they'd had enough with the girl for the night. Sara licked Dai behind the ear, and patted Henry's ass. Neither(more) of them reacted, and Sara wouldn't have it any other way. She enjoyed the sex she had with them and knew they each felt something for her, but she'd never be as important to either of them as they were to each other. They'd had nearly 70 Earth years to develop their relationship; she'd only had a few months.
She untangled herself from the boys and strode over to the smoldering camp fire, snapping her fingers to renew it. It was cold, even for her, although she was starting to get used to the temperatures of Io. She laid beneath the stars, imagining how her life had become this way. When she had stopped regretting the kills - something she had done even when they were facing the faceless mooks they fought on Earth - and started to feel neutral, and then even started to enjoy them, to dream about them during sex with the boys and feel herself getting wetter at the thought.
As she stared up at the twinkling stars, she noticed that two of them were twinkling a little too much. And quickly, they turned not into stars, but into two ships. Well, one ship and one was... Carlo, in his robotic form, his feet turned into rocket blasters, decreasing as he and Christina Forsyth, Demigoddess of Earth, landed.
"Have you come to join us?" Sara asked.
"We've come to rescue you," Christina responded.
"I don't think so." She smirked, as confused expressions adorned her former friends' faces.(less)
Too complicated. By chance life happened, and by chance we changed. 3 trillion years is a long time, so much time for so many things. What is sentience, anyway? Aren't we all just little atomi, bonded together by billions of years of ionics and covalences, what worked and what(more) didn't, growths and tweaks to familiar recipes? Are we really that important?(less)