|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
BOTDF yaoi story pt.3BOTDF yaoi story pt.3
THIS STORY CONTAINS YAOI! DONT LIKE IT? GO AWAY! :3
-Still it DAHVIE the next day XD
DAHVIE: DAMEIT JAYY!
JAYY: What did I do? *walk in to room*
DAHVIE: Did you drink my last Monster!?
JAYY: Uhh .. You see uhhh .I GOT TO GO! *runs for the door*
DAHVIE: JAYY GET YOU ASS BACK HARE! *run after Jayy*
JAYY: NAVER! *Opens the door and run out but trips* OW!
DAHVIE: I got you now! *Jumps on top of him*
JAYY: I'll go buy more. *Try's to get up*
DAHVIE: *helps Jayy up* But first you may want to get some thing on. *giggles*
JAYY: *blush* uhh yeah Hahaha maybe I should. *walk to Dahvie room*
DAHVIE: JAYY YOU CAN USE MY STUFF!
*30 min later*
JAYYAME DAHVIE ALL YOUR STUFF IS TOO BIG!
DAHVIE: Well I gess you will have to stay hare and I get the monster and some thing for you to put on. *Dahvie get close to Jayy lips*
JAYY: uhh y-yeah.
*Dahvie comes back with monster and some thing for Jayy*
DAHVIE: I AM BACK!!!
beautiful surgery botdf lyrics
Is a place where they'll pay $1000 for a kiss
And 50cents for your soul
Take a knife, cut a slice of my beautiful plastic life
Take my shoes, see my view, I imperfect just like you
Cover up all my flaws, work to fix all of the draws
This is fame, this is pain, a life of luxury and fame
Break the mold, sell my soul, plastic model to be whole
Pay the price, living vise, be high; win and roll the dice
I can be your enemy, my armor is my vanity
Cut me up, stitch me up, make me perfect in front of yourself
Keep talking all your shit, beautiful surgery erases all of it
You can't cut me down or rip myself into pieces that make me whole
All these rumors and all this shit,
I've paid a pretty price to erase all of it
You can't stop me now I'll save myself from your self-inflicted hell
The battle's in the mirror is only the beginning,
The battle is in myself; seems never-ending
Slap me on the face,
Tell me that I faked the truth always cause plastic always breaks...
There's nothing idea
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
Keep in Touch!