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Pchat derp3 years ago in Scraps

Whoah hey3 years ago in Other

LeatherHow did I end up here?
That's the million dollar question. Connie has never felt very comfortable with sex. Penises always weirded her out, really badly too. And just men, in general seemed... unclean? Sweaty? And God forbid she think about the female anatomy in that way. Even in art school, when experimentation was probably a required course, she stayed away from parties and "study" groups.
And now, here Connie was, standing in a fetish shop, looking at leather wear. She wants to die. Stupid Worth and her stupid fetishes. Connie desperately wants to kick something. She vaguely wonders if Worth likes handcuffs. Then shakes her head. No, Leather3 years ago in Short Stories

Harold is Not a Girl's Name 1She was the kind of girl that attracted looks everywhere she went, but not exactly in the way most people wanted. Mismatched colors, carefree smile, eccentric tastes in stores, and a high-pitched giggle that brought the city streets to a standstill. It was only natural that everyone knew her, or at least of her. The only problem was, she was always being called down to government offices to fix the "errors" on her paperwork.

Nobody believed her when she said her name was Harold Falk Cross.

And listing yourself as a self-employed paranormal investigator was always a recipe for trouble, since it wasn't really a "legitimate" occupation sincHarold is Not a Girl's Name 13 years ago in Fan Fiction

God Worth You're Such a Sleaze3 years ago in Books & Novels

FemFinas-Fiona2 years ago in Drawings

a good girlVesela Amaker Hatch was a good kid gone terribly wrong.

She insisted this to everyone. They would stare at her when she shuffled around at two in the morning, ask her why she was out past curfew and she would have to produce her ID so many times because she was fucking nineteen and she could be out as late as she wanted, thank you very much. She didn't need permission from the fuzz please and thank you. Just because she was a girl, just because she didn't give a flying fuck when old men tried to corner them (just slammed their heads into the brick and walked away), just because she had scars she was proud of. She had survived the beatinga good girl3 years ago in Fan Fiction

Reach Out And Touch Faith2 years ago in Other

Except for that Damn Cowlick2 years ago in Other

Is It a Girl's Name?2 years ago in Other

WitchcraftYou have salt. Because it burns.
Silver.
And...
Milk under the window.
Rowan branches
around your bed.
Even some Holy Water. Maybe
And things that protect you
from yourself. Things that
Burn you
singe arm hair
Can kill you.
And maybe
You wonder
Why.

You have salt, because it burns. Lick your finger, coat it in salt. Shove it in a cut. Float in the tub.
"I guess I am a bride of Satan," you mumble to the ceiling. Laugh. Loud, echoing through the moldy bathroom. Pull yourself up.
Brush your teeth naked. Thin. Ribs and vertabrae. Breasts like goose pimples. Way to tiny. Angular. Sharp, jutting hip bones. Blood in the toothWitchcraft3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes

SofterHiNaBN - One Mistake2 years ago in Other

Dance or Sketchdump 2-33 years ago in Drawings

Sticks and Stones2 years ago in Scraps

Femme Worth3 years ago in Scraps

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