ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I refuse to apologize
that I dance like I have diamonds
at the meeting of my thighs,
for I am everything I am made of,
and if you don’t like it love, well tough.
that I dance like I have diamonds
at the meeting of my thighs,
for I am everything I am made of,
and if you don’t like it love, well tough.
Literature
Farenthel's Tale
The couple had been happily married for years, by this point, a few decades at least. It was 3E 401, and their marriage had been sanctioned twenty- five years before. The two lived in a small village in Valenwood, one that rarely saw one of the mighty migrating graht- oak cities of that land. In this town, all knew each other, or almost all knew each other.
Thus, most of the village knew of the couple’s problems conceiving a child. The two Bosmer had managed to conceive two, though one had died in the womb and the other had survived for a mere two weeks post- partum. They were heavily demoralized by this, hoping that next time—ne
Literature
Magic Tale Part2
Story time again
(lol, cuz I actually remember some more of this story)
*less excited cheers but the same same amount of people*
So, after I took a look at the Grovyle, I went to some raggedy old hotel, and some shitty ass motherfucker is sittin' behind the desk and asks me for some dough and I'm like, bitch, get yo own damn money, and I go to the very back of the hotel and jump out the window all like, I don't give any fucks about yo window, and I'm runnin' and I see a Drifblim, and I'm like, the fuck is with all these Pokemon yo, but anyway, I continue to run, and then I fall
and forget the rest
possibly
The End!
I think
Literature
Rune Smuggler Dreams
The letter hung in the air and heaved opposite the lilt and lurch of the sea under the trader's hull. It glimmered and rippled like burning paper but never went to ash. George's eyes followed it up and down, tracing it. They tried to focus, not on reading it as a whole, but on the parts of the letter; the substance of it. The letter was like candlelight in unsteady hands, and directed soft, warping shadows to dance across George's massive frame as he sat, sinking into his bed. His face was a portrait of blame. In the darkest corner of the room a silent huddled figure was unable to look at the magic nonsense at all.
George snatched the letter
Suggested Collections
Shameless steal of a wonderful peace of poetry from Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise".
April 6th: guilty chromosome
April 6th: guilty chromosome
© 2016 - 2024 Ladygentlemanbastard
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In