'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through dA,
Not a troll was stirring, nor Grinch in his sleigh.
Deviations were hung in digital Galleries with care,
In hopes that +Favourites soon would be there.
The n00bs were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Daily Deviations danced in their heads.
And Fella in his 'kerchief, and spyed (https://www.deviantart.com/spyed) with his night-light,
Had just settled down to log-off for the night,
When over in the Forums there arose such a clatter,
Fella sprang back online to see what was the matter.
To the browser window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the tabs and refreshed the cache.
When what to his art-loving ey
Hell hath no fury... by aragornsgirl333, literature
Literature
Hell hath no fury...
Missy was angry. She'd only just managed to wrangle her way off Skaro alive, no thanks to the Doctor, the sanctimonious git! How dare he, how dare he choose the puppy that she'd so generously gifted to him over her, his oldest and closest friend? He'd sent her his Confession dial, did that really mean so little to him? That he would treat her like she was nothing! But no, apparently it had just been an elaborate deception! And people thought that she was the manipulative one!
She saw it now. The Doctor had never cared for her. Just knew her far too well, knew that no matter how much they fought, no matter how much she had pretended in the pa
what the moon teaches us is
no one exists as a constant.
some days you will orbit elsewhere.
the angles of light that
make up the shadows of you
will keep moving.
it is the same with the ocean
and how it does not meet
the shore the same each time:
some days it will come crashing,
eroding: or it comes back to kiss
its edges over and over
there are some days i am more
of a tsunami. there will be days
you will be eclipsed.
and i don't mind this. the moon is
up in the sky but the ocean still feels
the weight of its pull, always.
i want to drown in the
push and pull of your gravity
in all the ways that's possible.
i could get used to the
di
To the girl teaching herself to fly,
a hospital bird with soot in her lungs
and patchwork wings,
Starling,
you only fly for a little while.
If you want to stop hurting,
learn to drift in the silence of the dark
between night and day.
We're all made from broken parts:
bird seed, letters addressed to no one,
things found in old coats,
brittle things like love.
Glass bottomed birds,
we used to make butterfly hands,
until moths swarmed into our throats,
moon-spun moths,
like dancing butterflies; still
we choked on dusty wings.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,
the same smoke that you'll inhale.
Let go, little bird -
when he asked me how i wanted him to build the house,
i answered him truthfully.
i said i wanted the pillars to be made
of pages from every book ever written,
curled in on themselves until
they could hold a roman arch.
pour words, strong and weak, into
the earth instead of cement-
let it be flexible to adapt
to pressure.
build the walls from the ground up
through prose supporting the bricks
layered by memories forged
along the path we took
to arrive at eden.
tilt poems into pyramids above
our heads, ceilings just high enough
to be within earshot of every
laugh we'll ever make.
empty emotions into a template
of a window and slide it i
I trace your ink-infused skin
with my wanting fingertips
and I remember the better
days. You were younger
once and I was sweeter
once, and we shared a
prison cell called love.
You are no longer baby-
faced and I have hair down
to my waist, and you smoke
cigarettes and you drink
whiskey because you want to
be a man’s man. You kiss me
sweetly for the fifth year
in a row, even though I
haven’t known what it’s like
to call you mine in four.
I can’t detach myself from
your wanting gaze, the way
you look at me when I shed
my skin. I can’t let go of your
laugh and your blue-green-grey
eyes, the way you smirk and
Teasing You Into Shape by aragornsgirl333, literature
Literature
Teasing You Into Shape
It had been a few weeks since the Doctor had taken the Mistress aboard the TARDIS, and thus far things had gone surprisingly well. Granted they'd each had their fair share of angry Scottish rants, and she'd definitely done more than her fair share of personal space invasion over those days, which had been the cause of a significant number of those rants, on his part at least. But on the whole she'd been remarkably well behaved, considering things had not gone her way at all, and her plans had gone askew.
The Doctor was wandering through the TARDIS - generally he kept a fairly close eye on her, because of course he didn't trust her running lo
It's The Distance, I Think. by MusicInducedDaydream, literature
Literature
It's The Distance, I Think.
It was sitting on our kitchen counter-
Brown glazed and curved, like her-
Perched next to the microwave.
I thought it would best hold
Her spatula and my two bamboo spoons.
She filled it with yellow tulips and
Pink carnations and hydrangea blossoms and
Told me to "Get your own spoon vase"
With bells in her voice and
Her cheeks dimpled and her eyes crinkled,
And I wrapped my arms around her waist and
Punished her back-sass by tickling her ribs until
We were a jumbled mess, strewn
Across the tile floor- with flushed cheeks and
Not a worry in the world.
These days, the curved brown jar
Sits next to my stove top and
Holds my two ba
I have lines to cross
and skeletons to shatter,
because halted mercy
resides in these hands.
But I will not
show mercy with you.
Today is painted
with pinstripes and broken
nails, it is when
you decide I am
good enough to be
yours.
But I made myself worse,
when I was with you.
She's always seen during
daylight -
yet her beauty is
nocturnal.
I, with shaking hands
[and nerves],
wrapped her round me
like a scarf,
though she still gives
me midnight chills
and spasms of pain
Her friends pick daisies and
pierce the stems with their
fingernails,
link them together like