Monday, April 25, 2011

Breath [The Market]

Breath [The Market]
By: Hunter M.

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I watch her breathing. It's so shallow my hand occasionally reaches up so my fingers are just under her nostrils. A soft breeze brushes against the skin and for the moment I'm satisfied. She's shivering and we have every blanket in the house compiled over the two of us, but it does nothing but suffocate us.

Even now I find her beautiful. She always grows so much thinner during the winter but we only have weeks of it left and once the air outside starts to warm, so does my Seally. Her shoulder's are so pointy and her collar bones jut from her like a thick coat hanger embedded under her skin.

She wimpers softly and I think that I've held her too tight against me. I know she gets uncomfortable easily and I've woken her before when I try a little too hard to warm her fragile form. I look to her face and notice that her eyes are moving around, watching the screen under her thin, purple spidery-viened lids. She wimpers again, this time louder and her knee jerks itself into my thy. "Adrian. Adrian. Adrian." She sounds closer to tears, like a sob is slamming against her constricting throat but she will not relent. "Adrian."

This time I reach out and lay my big hand against her face. It covers the majority of her head and with a sickening thought that twists the muscles in my stomach so that the bile rises to the cusp of my throat, I realize that all I'd have to do is shift so that all my weigh rested on my hand- on her head- and I could kill her. So, so fragile.

"Seally." I whisper, and it comes out gravely and thick with the lapsed silence. After a second and two more wild twiches of her body, her eyes flutter open and her lips part. A shaking intake of breath fully arouses her; her pupils shrink back to their normal size.

"Adrain." It's all she says before curling herself into my chest. I hold her close enough as to not crush her and she let's me without protest. "It was of him again." She says after a while breaking the silence like shattering a glass plate. It startles me so much that the hand that was combing through her hair involentarily clenches, and I have to apologize and kiss the spot where I pulled multiple times. Not because she was upset but because hurting Seally is like spitting into the face of God and then laughing about it.

"He's gone." I promise her. It's all I'd ever tell her. She doesn't need to know that as soon as she fell asleep the night the boy in the wheelchair gourged her face, I went out and killed him. No, 'killed him' is too loose a term for what I did. I murdered him-- murdered him to the upmost degree and without submission because the act was out of blind fury and passion. Murdering the boy would never keep him from entering her dreams, though. It won't take away the scar on not only her face but her already withering mind. If murdering myself took that from her, I'd do it in a heart beat. Though I know I never could because without me, Seally would be dead in a matter of days.

I feel more than see her head nod against my chest, her nose gazing slightly over the hollow of my throat and her thick brown mane tickles my chin. Her head tilts up and her silver eyes meet my onyx ones. By the tilt of her lashes and slight slit of her mouth, I know this is her silent way of asking for a kiss because if there's one thing Seally hates, it's asking for things- like help.

Like most our kisses, they're short yet lingering and the chapped skin of our lips barely brush against eachother. During the day, it's filling. Just a little pick-me-up, a little hope and encouragement. At night, though, when the moon's blaring in the dark, freckled expanse, those kisses tend to warp into something more dark, passionate, lustful, and full of restrained desire. Only on warmer nights do we give in, but I know Seally won't be falling back asleep, and I can only sleep when she does.

The blankets are suffocating but in the darkness, I breathe in the breath that Seally pants into my mouth. It's enough. It's always enough. And really, all you truly need is enough to survive.
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Author's Note: Another The Market story! Yayayayayayay! God, I love writing these. They're so angsty and strange and dark. It's a short one, but Adrian isn't a boy of many words. He's more of the silent brooding type who demonstrates his passions through actions. Hope you liked it, cause God knows I love writing these.

Drabbles 01

The Voice
She decides to stick with words. Not because she isn't good at the other things but because the words chose her. The words speak in her brain like the voice of someone else. She considers giving the articulate voice a name but why when she wants it to be only her own and with a new name, the voice takes on an individual identity. And with so much freedom, wouldn't you leave- like an adolescent, defiant yet powerful when fully aroused? She believes it would, and she can't free it just yet. Those chains will forever entomb that voice until the dreams darken and the urges fade.


Closer
I can't help but find every thing she does- every sad smile or demure inking of rosy spindles circulating and twining around the freckles on the apples of her cheeks- impossibly endearing. I long to kiss her lips, her bottom one that is slightly chapped and puffs out when she's deep in thought. She knows nothing of my innocent lust, the dreams she occupies, the brilliance she encompasses in those hands of hers- so miniature and lithe and artistic. I sit beside her as she doodles meaninglessly around the few notes she's taken of the lecture droning just out of ear reach. If only she knew how much she draws me in with her calculated silence. If only she were just a little closer... I love you.
- The secretly mushy inner dialogue of Jacob Chambers [Canvases]

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I know that those who've read what I have of Canvases haven't fully gotten to appreciate Jacob like I have in my mind (considering he hasn't even been introduced yet), but he is truly one of the most dynamic and favorite characters I've created. He's just too cute with his flaws and such.

Current obsession: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, and all their witty banter and love.

You're welcome

This is basically your one stop for ovary exploding hotness.

My current loves in order:

1.Jake Abel
1


2. Hunter Parrish
2


3. Michael Aranda
3


4. Logan Lerman
4


5. Mark Salling
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6. KassemG
5


7. Cam Gigandet
6


8. Robert Sheehan
7


9. Max Irons
8


10. Zac Bragans
9


11. Garrett Hedlund
10


12. Sam Keeley
11


Me:
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...
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Notice how they all kind of look alike? I clearly like a certain type of face.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Choking on own spit

My favorite artist ever just proclaimed me her virtual bestie! Life is now complete.
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Ewth

Did this in photoshop.
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I don't like it.
But figured I'd share anyway.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Percabeth!

God, I love them.

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Made a collage. Yes, Percy's flipping you off because... well, Percy's kind of a cocky-asshole-seaweed-brain-cutie-putootie-cheesy-sarcastic-goofball. And dis is why I love him.

Bigger version: Here.

You like?
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Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Bucket List

I should be doing my science homework.
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Yeah. right. Made a bucket list with Bishop, instead.
Here goes nothing:

Part 1:

1.Write a Best-Selling novel
2.Go to Italy. One way. Spend time there.
3.Have a crazy one night stand with someone I will never see again.
4.Thru hike the A.T.
5.Bust out the windows of a car just because...
6.Get a tattoo ---> http://i55.tinypic.com/3346j9f.jpg
7.Give someone $100 just because...
8.Have art featured in an art gallery.
*Famous art gallery
9.Go to the airport, and take the next flight out no matter where it is.
10.Give a hobo an upscale box.
11.Fall in love.
12.Walk to another city.
13.Run a marathon.
14.Learn to do something new.
15.Meet Hunter Parrish.
16.And my doppleganger.
17.Spend a day in Boston, touring the city, drinking Starbucks, reading, and being hipster classy.
18.Crash a party.
19.Tell someone what I think about them while being brutally honest.
20.Spontaneously kiss a cute boy.
21.See a Broadway play.
22.Swim with dolphins.
23.Conquer a fear.
24.Take a kick boxing class.
25.Make an unconfident girl love herself.
26.Learn to juggle like a bamf.
27.Handcuff myself to someone im fighting with.
28.Go to Europe wiff my best friend, Huntard. (Bishop)
29.Be an extra in a movie.
30.Spend New Years Eve in Times Square
*Kiss the love of my life on New Years Eve in Times Square.
31.Ride a camel.
32.Smell the stinkiest fruit in the world.
33.Surf a Hawaiian wave.
34.Camp out inside a moose in the middle of the Artic.
35.Learn to waltz.
36.Go parasailing.
37.Surprise someone with a gift of something they've really wanted.

You are beautiful

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Tuesday, April 19, 2011

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Misfits

Misfits. Watch this bitch.
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Tangled

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This movie! It is sooo cute. One of Disney's best, in my opinion. Eeep, I love it when she climbs on him! Gosh dangit, it is so adorable! I just... I just can't...

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Victorious

She always dreamed of going here. Never did she think that she'd actually make it. Competition had never been her favorite thing. When she was young, she was always the best at everything, and as the amount of her competitors expanded, her confidence began to deteriorate into much of nothing. Like a schriveled ball in her chest, right were her heart should be. Weird, how when she invisions her personifed confideince, it usually replaces her steady heart. Weird how it's face always seems to resemble a decrepit widow. Lost it's lover. Though it's lover was merely more wins. Now the stakes are higher than ever and she can't handle it. She thinks it's just the stress or the clouding depression that tugs at her, dragging her into the moist cobbled-stoned well that is creativity isolation and drought. Now, she wishes more than anything that she had never been good at anything, and had discovered her talents later, before the competitors were fresher. She made it, though, in the end. It was painful and she lost things we will never attain again, in the process. She lost parts of herself that will never be repaid. Dept that will never be reimbersed. She cares but not as much as she cares of the victory of proving herself, her doubting inconceivably unconfident self, that she made it.

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And a humorous depiction of this prose...

Please Me

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I love this because it's true. I hate this because it's true.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Creativity Leeches

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Update! Wow, guys. It has been entirely too long. I swear, school and drama has really been dragging me down and sucking all my inspiration and creativity from the little artistic womb deep within the crevices of my brain folds. (<-- Do I get extra points for making that sound really disturbing?) I know what you're thinking. But Hunter, how can you have drama in your life when you have no life. Well, let me tell you my young prodigy. My life, yes, is rather peaceful. Not too many controversies. Not too many fights. Not too much boy drama. (I have to actually have a boy before I deal with the latter, but let's not talk about that.) I just made a huge decision that had me so stressed, my face turned into a minefield of pimples and I neared tears at even the mention of my name.

I had to choose between soccer and tennis. Again.

Again you say? Yes. Again. Last year, I chose soccer over tennis and almost immediately I regretted it. I've played soccer since I was wee big and it just seemed like the natural route for me- to play soccer for my Highschool all four years. Let me tell you, soccer sucked this year. Sure, we went undefeated, but what's the big deal if you can't even be happy about it, or if you didn't have fun getting to that point. This being said, I still had trouble switching to tennis. I'm obviously not as good as I used to be since I haven't been playing. If I don't make the team next year, I really don't know what I'll do. Honestly, my Sophomore year will be ruined.

Is it worth the risk? To be honest, I believe it is. Soccer has stressed me to borderline depression. Do I want to go back to that? Hell no. It's worth a few disappointed people to not have everything I love stripped from me.

And now that you know my current inner demons, I thought you'd like to know that I have, in fact, started a new project. It's called Canvases, and it's basically a... wing-it story. It's a much more cheerful story than some of my other darker pieces but it still has that teen angst that always nudges its way into my writing (C'mon, I can't help myself. I try to make my characters as believable as possible and what teen out there doesn't have some angst?)

Also, I'm considering trying to write a Fanfiction. I heard they're a lot harder to write than they seem to be, and I think it would be fun to try it out. I'd probably go with a post-Mockingjay (from the Hunger Games Trilogy) type story, mainly based around the blossoming of love between Peeta and Katniss. Or maybe a Percabeth? Not official yet, but it's stirring around in my noggin.

And one other thing. I was thinking of putting chapter 1 of The Labyrinth on here. If you don't know, it's a novel I've started about a group of twenty-five honors kids going on a school sponsored leadership camping trip. They decide to sneak out of camp and go to the carnival they passed on the way out of town. The carnival itself is creepy enough, but for the last scare of the night, they decide to go into a maze. Little do they realize, only one will make it out. The writing's still a work-in-progress but I'm definately considering posting the first chapter.

Anyways, sorry for the lack of activity. I promise I'll start updating more often. But right now, I'm in a swamp swarming with creativity leeches.

Disclaimer: Please Read

I do not own ANY of the pictures I use on my blog (except for the ones of me or unless I specify that I have, indeed, drawn them). I have just started to get sources, so the next pictures (excluding gifs) will have a source or credit. I give all credit to the wonderful artists out there who have created the images I use.