Your CS Pet Pairs? (NEW THREAD)

[TheWhiteWolf]

A Mother and Her Son

No story, just thought that they looked like Mother and son.... ^^

[Inatae]

You can't play our broken strings
You can't feel anything
That your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real

But the truth hurts, and lies worse
How can I give any more
When I love you a little less than before?
~Broken Strings {James Morrison}

I dunno. I was listening to this earlier, and randomly paired up some pets to go along with it.

[aquamarine]

Together forever, never apart, maybe in distance, but never in heart.

~~~

[forget the crap quote, their babies would be sooooo pretty <3]

[micah]

I think that "don't tell me because it hurts" is from a song, but I'm much too lazy to look it up/whatever;;;
Heh heh, you guys like how light that pink is? =w=b I do.

_____
xxx [♂] || Meis [♂]


[ Don't tell me because it hurts ]
"Promise me you won't - -"

"Try to escape anymore...?"

"I wouldn't want to yell."
{ {
The figure - light in hue, but not in spirit - entered through the door with his head hung low. In his arms were books, several; many seemed to be very old, yet some still held their vibrant colors. Quickly he walks to one of the many shelves in the room, slipping each book into its respective place.
"I'm going to need another shelf in here. I still have some books left over."
Studiously, he takes three books off of different shelves and tosses them in the trash can, smiling faintly for a moment before gathering the others and placing them. He looks over at his little friend, who was still wincing from what he said earlier. "Meis, dear," he says slowly, extending the pain. He liked to see him cringe. "I'm going to need you to build me another little shelf..."
"Of course." Meis's breathing was extremely labored, but he stood up to exit the library and gather the materials. This would be the fourth bookshelf this week...
"But first--" His eyes were downcast as he slowly stepped towards him. "Could you help me with something a little more urgent?"
"A-Always."
He reached for the other's hand, burning it slightly before he gripped tighter. Leading Meis to the cellar, he smiled wryly, and kicked bones away so he could reach the center of the room. "I think I perfected the potion, m'dear."

[steadyasthestars]

You can't play our broken strings
You can't feel anything
That your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real

But the truth hurts, and lies worse
How can I give any more
When I love you a little less than before?
~Broken Strings {James Morrison}

I dunno. I was listening to this earlier, and randomly paired up some pets to go along with it.

I love that song! And the pets are awesome too!

[steadyasthestars]

+

The lowly peasant tries to impress the fair maiden as she watches on the competion. A lot like Robin Hood, I guess.

[Inatae]

I think that "don't tell me because it hurts" is from a song, but I'm much too lazy to look it up/whatever;;;
Heh heh, you guys like how light that pink is? =w=b I do.

_____
xxx [♂] || Meis [♂]


[ Don't tell me because it hurts ]
"Promise me you won't - -"

"Try to escape anymore...?"

"I wouldn't want to yell."
{ {
The figure - light in hue, but not in spirit - entered through the door with his head hung low. In his arms were books, several; many seemed to be very old, yet some still held their vibrant colors. Quickly he walks to one of the many shelves in the room, slipping each book into its respective place.
"I'm going to need another shelf in here. I still have some books left over."
Studiously, he takes three books off of different shelves and tosses them in the trash can, smiling faintly for a moment before gathering the others and placing them. He looks over at his little friend, who was still wincing from what he said earlier. "Meis, dear," he says slowly, extending the pain. He liked to see him cringe. "I'm going to need you to build me another little shelf..."
"Of course." Meis's breathing was extremely labored, but he stood up to exit the library and gather the materials. This would be the fourth bookshelf this week...
"But first--" His eyes were downcast as he slowly stepped towards him. "Could you help me with something a little more urgent?"
"A-Always."
He reached for the other's hand, burning it slightly before he gripped tighter. Leading Meis to the cellar, he smiled wryly, and kicked bones away so he could reach the center of the room. "I think I perfected the potion, m'dear."

Isn't that a line from "Don't Speak" by No Doubt? Great story, by the way.

[ika;]

Please listen to this while reading.

.You have picked me out.
Through a distant shot of a building burning
you have noticed now
that a white cotton shirt is twirling, turning.

september 11th- 2001.

Such noise. So much noise. Screams, cries, men fell to their knees, weeping. Whirlwinds of sound around me, breath stolen, breath taken. Women sobbed, begged, pleaded. Wept for their children, siblings, parents. Each wept for someone, and as I listened to the wrenching cacaphony of voices- they merged into one.

.In fact I am waving, waving.
Small in the clouds, but waving, waving.
Does anyone see a
soul worth saving?.

Sirens, squealing of brakes. Shouts, urgency. We stood together, united in our horror by hands that did not- would not touch.

.And when will you come?
Do you think you are watching, watching
a man shaking crumbs
or pegging out washing?.

Burning. The scent of fire, fear. The two mingled so overpowering that more fell to the ground. Don't- I thought. You'll graze your knees. The enormity hadn't hit me yet.

.I am trying and trying.
The heat behind me is searing, searing,
but the white of surrender is not yet flying.
I am not at the point of launching, leaving.

Then the thought comes to me. He is in there. People are in there. My eyes close. Suddenly I am tasting dirt, along with my screams.

.But tiring, tiring.
Sirens below me are wailing, firing.
My arm is numb and my nerves are sagging.
Do you see me, my love. I am failing. Flagging.

I hear him, beyond the roaring towers. "Let's dance." He says to me, a whisper in my ear. "Dance with me, Alice." I turn, expecting to see him beyond the falling ash. I don't. "Don't cry, my love." Comes his whisper in the wind. And so I imagine I am taking his hand.

I imagine I am dancing with him one last time, as the snow begins to fall.

-This has a very personal meaning to me. Today is the birthday of my Uncle, John, who was killed in the 9/11. I wanted to show him that we all love him so much, and that I have never forgotten him. This is written from the viewpoint of his wife, Alice, who watched as the towers fell. The poem is 'Out Of The Blue', by Simon Armitage. The song at the top is 'River Flows In You.' played by Yiruma.

[mawsoleum]

xxx | xxx




I once(so long ago) had a l.o.v.e [<3]

Oh ! s/o/ l....o....n....g ago

But now her g|r|a|v|e

is simply crumbling

a
w
a
y


/insert dramatic story of epic adventures and death here/

[Robojam]

Please listen to this while reading.

.You have picked me out.
Through a distant shot of a building burning
you have noticed now
that a white cotton shirt is twirling, turning.

september 11th- 2001.

Such noise. So much noise. Screams, cries, men fell to their knees, weeping. Whirlwinds of sound around me, breath stolen, breath taken. Women sobbed, begged, pleaded. Wept for their children, siblings, parents. Each wept for someone, and as I listened to the wrenching cacaphony of voices- they merged into one.

.In fact I am waving, waving.
Small in the clouds, but waving, waving.
Does anyone see a
soul worth saving?.

Sirens, squealing of brakes. Shouts, urgency. We stood together, united in our horror by hands that did not- would not touch.

.And when will you come?
Do you think you are watching, watching
a man shaking crumbs
or pegging out washing?.

Burning. The scent of fire, fear. The two mingled so overpowering that more fell to the ground. Don't- I thought. You'll graze your knees. The enormity hadn't hit me yet.

.I am trying and trying.
The heat behind me is searing, searing,
but the white of surrender is not yet flying.
I am not at the point of launching, leaving.

Then the thought comes to me. He is in there. People are in there. My eyes close. Suddenly I am tasting dirt, along with my screams.

.But tiring, tiring.
Sirens below me are wailing, firing.
My arm is numb and my nerves are sagging.
Do you see me, my love. I am failing. Flagging.

I hear him, beyond the roaring towers. "Let's dance." He says to me, a whisper in my ear. "Dance with me, Alice." I turn, expecting to see him beyond the falling ash. I don't. "Don't cry, my love." Comes his whisper in the wind. And so I imagine I am taking his hand.

I imagine I am dancing with him one last time, as the snow begins to fall.

-This has a very personal meaning to me. Today is the birthday of my Uncle, John, who was killed in the 9/11. I wanted to show him that we all love him so much, and that I have never forgotten him. This is written from the viewpoint of his wife, Alice, who watched as the towers fell. The poem is 'Out Of The Blue', by Simon Armitage. The song at the top is 'River Flows In You.' played by Yiruma.

Aww <3 It;s very touching, especially with the song. RIP.