Venus Comb

Stories and poems and mermaids and stars

Posts tagged pretty pretty pretty

125 notes

Echoes | Brittana Ficlet |


When you told me, for the first time - out loud, not with your body like I realized later you had been doing all summer long - I heard myself listening as you told me two things at once. Then I didn’t know how I hadn’t heard both voices before. Maybe I hadn’t needed to, because it didn’t matter, and I always understand you, anyways. Or maybe I didn’t hear both your voices before, because the things you said to me had always run over each other, like when we’re messing around and we play two tracks at the same time until we find two that harmonize. 

Like when we were seven, and your smile was saying you’re my best friend while your words said let’s play hide and seek. Or when we were fourteen, and your hands were saying please kiss me and your lips were against mine saying it’s ok it’s ok it’s ok this is ok. Or when we were fifteen and your body was saying I want you and your eyes were saying please don’t hate me for wanting you. All those things seemed the same thing, then, and I didn’t hear. I didn’t hear the two tracks playing.

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Your hands were saying please kiss me and your lips were against mine saying it’s ok it’s ok it’s ok this is ok.

This is just right.

Filed under pretty pretty pretty and insightful the doctor will see you now doctoruth Brittana fic Brittana fiction

22 notes

we were exploding anyway.: Honey and Lemon


Your lips were honey as I combed lemon juice water through your hair, your voice high and floating into the blue blue of the summer’s day.

“You will have hair like sunshine,” I tell you and ignore how big my heart grows when your smile turns more brilliant than the sun. Your shoulders are pink and my hands that brush over and through your hair are brown, worn dark by the sun when we play our summer games. Chasey, hide and seek, Marco Polo in my pool; rescuers in your treehouse.

Maybe we are too old for games like that but your sunshine hair spills over my fingers and I don’t care.

I love Larissa writing young!Brittana…

Filed under poetry all mixed in hurray for Larissa! pretty pretty pretty Brittana fiction

54 notes

I don’t know if your wings are real, but I’ve never seen you without them and I follow you everywhere.


When I first saw you I didn’t understand why no one else was staring; you had these gorgeous wings, like an angel would and they seemed to pull all the air towards them so that I had none left. Everyone else moved by, just slipping past them, as if they couldn’t see how stunningly beautiful they were, as if they couldn’t see how beautiful you were.

I started following you around, seeing your wings and being around your angel presence was addicting and soon, you started smiling at me, your hands nervously gripping the edges of your wings as if you knew I could see them. You asked me to stay over your house one night and my heart was pounding so hard in my chest. I wondered what you’d look like out of the Cheerios uniform, how radiant your wings would look, stretching out and glowing in your dark bedroom. We slept in the same bed that night and your hands stayed close to your own body but your wing encompassed me and made sure I was never cold. They were so soft, like the smallest fluffy feathers I find in the park but all over and they never seem to get dirty or ruffled or damaged. They’re magic, just like you.

I went as an angel to Halloween with you, just imagining what it would be like if I could be as blindingly beautiful as you, if I could make the muscles in my back stand out like when you stretch yours wings out. It didn’t work very well because after the first few drinks, one wing broke and I had to take you out the back because you were crying. I felt bad about my wings so I started taking them off, sad that I had to let the feeble illusion go. You pulled me close before I could though, your hands running over my shoulders to feel the plastic feathers, your eyes glowing in the barely there porch light. When you kissed me I wasn’t ready but your wings were wrapping around me to keep me standing and their soft, perfect pressure reminded me to kiss you back.

Everything about you was perfect; the tiny whimper you made when I finally stopped my hands shaking and ran them down your angel wings, the tiny puff of air you made against my lips as I smiled into you. Your hands were moving through my hair and I wanted to pause the world just so I could stay wrapped up in you, wrapped up in your magic.

You see them, don’t you? you asked me, your voice shaking. I couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or how hard we had been kissing.

You’re beautiful, I replied, pulling you back into me, back to my lips that were already missing yours. From the way you were looking at me that night, I was almost sure that I had my own pair of magical wings, that I was almost as beautiful as you.

I love this so much.

(via explodinganyway)

Filed under pretty pretty pretty and sweet and lovely explodinganyway brittana fiction