MotherI lived with my mother until I was eleven. She once told me that I was a planned child. Yet when I was twelve she told me she doesn't want me to live with her anymore because "she got her own life now". Now, if she would have been the jetsetting type, I might've understood. When you travel a lot a child can be a burden, limiting you in your personal fulfillment. But my mother spent her newly acquired own life on her butt on the couch, infront of the TV.Mother2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Why do you want a child when you get rid of it after twelve years? I have my speculations about this. She separated from my father when I was five, first we went from one hotel to another, after she went to the lawyer she received spousal support. Even after I got older, she never looked for a job. She just didn't wanted to work, always had excuses. She was lazy. My father later told me it's always been like that, even though he got her a well-paid job in a big firm (prior to my birth), she always complained about work and later
Losing ItI'm kind of going crazy,Losing It2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm caught inside my mad mind.
Ten different things weigh me down, but I'm still fine!
The words are coming slowly, my mind is on a slur.
I can't string this poem, because the brain is on a blur!
And I get so frustrated, I tear away at skin;
The hair is falling down and the voices make a din!
I wanna shut them out, but I can't find a key,
So all that I can do is simply shut away the ME.
affectionate | brother!kise ryouta x fem!readeraffectionate | brother!kise ryouta x fem!reader1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
A/N: I have something for you guys to enjoy in the description~
'[Name]cchi. . .'
Your right eye twitched. 'No. Go away.'
Kise was following you around the gym, looking like a kicked puppy. Since the start of basketball practice, he had been complaining about not getting enough love from his younger sister, you, and no matter how many times you tell him that you love him, he would always ask you for a kiss on the cheek to prove it.
You "politely" declined, of course.
By drop kicking him.
As if you were going to do something embarrassing like that in public.
'[Name]cchi, please?' he implored as he trailed behind you. You sighed.
You were the manager of Kaijo's basketball team. After some relentless begging from the copycat himself, you caved in and had agreed to become his team's manager. You swore that he did this on purpose just so he could spend more time with you, not that you minded. It's just. . . Kise has some serious issues. . .
'Ryo-nii, I alre
.I define myself indefinable.2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
A girl with a million dollar dreams
but with a heart so broke they crumble
and leave me in a maze of dead ends
But I don't even mind getting torn at the seams
cause nightmares are my friends
And we're just like empty lighters
eventually we'll lose our spark
but to find a light and let it shine
is the reason we get dark
And the stars that burn the brightest
burn out fast and die
The pain in my voice
was my desolate choice
and my own lullaby
Intelligent DiscussionThere was only one seat left in the bar. Richard slid into it without a second thought, without even glancing at either of his neighbors…until he heard the one on his right call for the bartender at the same time as him. Then they both looked.Intelligent Discussion2 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The patrons immediately around them hushed. Over by the door, the bouncer looked quietly attentive.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” the bartender asked, a clear warning in her tone. Richard gave his neighbor another side-long glance, saw his own narrow-eyed, wary expression reflected back at him, and offered the first tentative flag-wave of a truce.
“No. I’m here for a vacation.”
“…me, too,” said the other, and since there were still no other empty seats to be had, they settled back into their adjacent stools and did their best to ignore each other as the rest of the bar relaxed around them.
Unfortunately, ignoring your arch-nemesis, an arch-nemesis apparently on vacation i
6 Tips for Fan Writers / Writing Fan-fiction6 Tips for Fan Writers/Fan-fiction6 Tips for Fan Writers / Writing Fan-fiction3 weeks ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Anybody Can Write a Novel
Chapter 9 “Types of Writers” – Section 6 “Fan-writing”
With Links to Supplementary Material
When I was about seven years old, I wrote my first story—a short “book” about an island completely inhabited by velociraptors, and a hero who could have been Dr. Grant's (my childhood hero) twin. While I didn't know it, my first work was loosely a fan-fiction of Jurassic Park. Most of us, perhaps all, become writers because at some point of our life we fell deeply in love with a story. Today, I'm going to talk about how we can make fan-stories serve us as best as possible. Please note that while fan-fiction is included in this segment, I will be using the term “fan-writing” to also include original stories with original characters that closel
Writing Tips: Dystopia and the Post-ApocalypseDystopia fiction is really, really popular for some reason. Actually, I know the reason—whether it be things like the Walking Dead or the resurgeance of survival games like Project Zomboid, it seems like everyone wants a piece of the dystopian pie. More or less, a dystopian story helps us realize that our lives aren't as shit as they could be. They may be a celebration of that fact, or a warning of that fact. So, how do you do the genre well? And let's get the obvious out of the way: no, your novel doesn't have to contain zombies. Zombies is a different tutorial altogether. We'll be talking about why you might want them here, but how to actually write zombies is for some other time.Writing Tips: Dystopia and the Post-Apocalypse3 weeks ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Dystopia more or less means that the world is shit. It doesn't have to mean that the whole world is shit, just the world that the characters aren't able to escape from. And unfortunately, it's a lot more realistic than dystopia's opposite: utopia. You'll never be able to make a good utopia story (whil
Clockwork GirlTwirl, twirl, twirl.Clockwork Girl1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The first time I opened my eyes, I saw my father. When I reached out for him, my joints squeaked and creaked and my arms jittered.
That was his first word to me.
He took off his glasses and left the room cleaning them. That left me alone, in the dark, listening to spiders clicking and clacking inside my head. They frightened me. I wanted my father.
When I tried to move my legs, I found that I had none. It was disconcerting, but not an impassable obstacle. I used my arms and my fingers to drag my body across the floor, until I met the door. It was disconcerting, but not an impassable obstacle. I broke the door and passed through.
I heard running steps above me. Then the steps ran down the stairs. My father appeared. He saw me and staggered back.
“Hmm,” I said. “Hmm. Hmm.”
My father approached me and I reached out for him. We both jittered.
He swung a wrench at me and all the spiders stopped.
Here's to those who are hurting You're not poison ivy and you're not crushed mimosa, you're not a history of screwed ups and let downs, you're not choked hazard with nothing else to give. You're not his or hers or theirs to be tugged and pulled around by their selfish and egocentric whims and your future is certainly not on their leash. You don't combust into flames and extinguish into ashes on the click of their fingers, so breathe and relax. You don't owe anyone anything and you certainly are not their definition of damaged cassette tapes.Here's to those who are hurting1 month ago in Philosophical More Like This
Tell anyone who had ever told you that you're not gritted teeth and clenched fist to screw off because you had been inhaling vile smoke and your lungs are turning black and your kidneys are rebelling into cement and stones and you are in the middle of pitfalls and booby traps and all you have are wrong wrong wrong advices that made you cry until your bones f
FrancexReader: Le lapin et le loup (fluffy angst)“Mm.”FrancexReader: Le lapin et le loup (fluffy angst)1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
Francis rolled over in the bed and opened his eyes to find her face only a few millimeters from his. And even in his half-asleep haze, his first thought was: si belle. With the noon light streaming through her lacy curtains, lighting up the room, she looked luminous—almost as though fireflies were dancing on her skin. Her pink lips were parted just slightly, letting out small puffs of air as she breathed slowly, still in a deep slumber.
It was a Saturday afternoon, the perfect time to laze around and bask in the warm summer weather. They’d had plans today, he recalled, to have a picnic at the park, but he felt no desire to move from his comfortable position, nor any desire to disturb her sleep.
An irrepressible smile bloomed across his face as he continued to gaze at her. God, he was so, so in love. It almost felt crazy—silly, like he was a grade-schooler with a crush. On instinct, he leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead, linger
CONTEST -Big Prize-I received these paints from a very generous art teacher that used to teach me. I don't use them and since it was a act of generosity i would feel awful keeping them when someone else can get so much more out of them or pass them on. Thats why I've decided to have this contest.CONTEST -Big Prize-1 week ago in Editorial More Like This
The first place prize is $120 worth of quality oil paints [price does not including the brushes] used only once, some never used.
-sorry for the low quality picture-
The supplies are as listed:
R.I.P. IwataFarewell to the King,R.I.P. Iwata2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
long did he reign.
So proud, so strong,
so full of hope.
Farewell to our King,
who brought us such joy.
The years of new things, new dreams...
they've passed us by.
Rest, great King.
You've earned your peace.
We'll ache for you,
but we will go on.
Farewell, our King.
You worked so hard
and did so well.
Please know that we understand.
Death Battle: King Kong vs. Indominus RexDeath Battle: King Kong vs. Indominus Rex1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
Ray: Alright, the combatants are set. Let's settle this debate once and for all...
Steel: It's time for a primal DEATH BATTLE!!!
The broken land of the long-lost Skull Island were a host to a variety of species, all of differing size, and many of monstrous nature and appearance. However, recently, a new addition had come to the island. Not by chance, so to say, but because someone had put it there. The creature in question was dumped onto this savage island because it had proven too much of a hazard and had put its captors through hell as they tried to contain it.
Deemed too dangerous to be exposed to civilization, the captors had decided to leave the creature on an island they knew was doomed to sink below the waves. Their hope was that the creature would die with the island.
One thing was certain, though--this creature wasn't going to die without taking a few of Skull Island's inhabitants with it.
Out on the swif
Tough Love (Scott 'Ant-Man' LangXReader)Tough Love (Scott 'Ant-Man' LangXReader)1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
Humming to yourself you unlocked the door to your uncle's house and entered holding three coffee's, knowing Hope would be there. You dropped your keys on the nearest table and went into the kitchen where you put the coffee.
"Uncle Hank?" You called not seeing him. You heard noise in the next room and went over to the door before opening it. You raised your eyebrows when you saw a man standing there shirtless while cleaning a cut on his side.
"(Y/n)?" You heard Hank ask as he walked down the stairs. The man paused what he was doing and noticed you standing there.
"Um hi" He waved awkwardly as Hank walked up behind you.
"Uncle Hank why is there a shirtless guy in your house? Not that I'm complaining" You asked.
"(Y/n) this is Scott Lang, Scott this is my niece (Y/n). She used to work for S.H.I.E.D and will be helping you in your training" Hank introduced.
"You want me to train him? For what? He's already fit as hell" You replied confused as Hank went back into the kitch
A word of advice...A word of advice...2 weeks ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
YOU! HEY YOU! YES, YOU, READING THIS ON YOUR PC / LAPTOP / TABLET / PHONE OR WHATEVER YOU'RE READING THIS FROM! I HAVE A FEW THINGS THAT I HAVE TO SAY TO YOU! SO LISTEN UP, AND MAKE SURE YOU GET THIS THROUGH YOUR HEAD:
You can make it in drawing, writing or in art in general. Trust me. I know this from my own personal experience what it's like to go from nothing to decent in art and over the months, I've gotten a lot of exposure on my art! (But let me tell you, it's NOT all about the popularity...it's about enjoying what you do and the good feeling of making others happy with it.)
Circa 2008, my drawings weren't even recognisable as manga. They looked like...well, let's just say I have nothing to compare them to, nor the words to describe them! I was told by most people I know that I was crap at drawing, and that I'd never get anywhere with it. Especially getting a career. (A few people sugar-coated the truth, but you could tell they thought they were aw
How to Design a Logo, Step by Step Guide.Chapter 1 - From the startHow to Design a Logo, Step by Step Guide.1 week ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
When we design a logo, we are fulfilling a need for an identity, because people think in images, not words. For example if you read “banana” on a sign, you don't think of the actual letters that form the word “banana”, you think of the fruit, you form the image in your head. That's what we want when we make a logo.
The following are features every good logo should have:
Easy to adjust. This means it has to be understandable in both small and big scale.
Charming. Once you see it you won't forget it, even if you didn't understand what it meant, you will still think about it.
Readability. It should be easy to read at any size and in any color, and shouldn't leave room for misinterpretation.
Easy to comprehend. You have to know what service or product it offers when you look at it.
Authentic. The design must not mislead the observer to believe something it's not.
[DGM FC] Elana Davis Bio[DGM FC] Elana Davis Bio2 weeks ago in Profiles More Like This
- | - | - | -|- | - | - | -
Name: Elana (Eli) Davis
Date of Birth: July 7, 18XX
Acting Skills: 1
Affiliation: Black Order (European Branch)
Blood Type: (optional)
Appearance: Elana has a slightly lanky build, despite her consistent training to build up muscle. Her hands and feet are calloused from climbing; and her skin is tan and splashed with freckles on her face and shoulders from always being out in the sun. Her hair is thin and dirty blonde, styled in a way that her long bangs are swept to her right (sometimes held in place by a clip) and the back flared out to the sides, often looking slightly windswept. Her eyes are pink
because I can.
Scars/Markings: She has small, fad
What have you said at 3 am?Eyelids are heavy,What have you said at 3 am?1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
and they say-
many fears are born
of fatigue and loneliness,
maybe this starlit conversation,
the thing he fears most,
with those sandbag eyes
and train wreck sentences,
is losing you.
A Morbid EpiphanyWaking up on a coroner's slab is an ordinary experience for me. Though it generally happens before the autopsy. Not that I mind having a few extra scars, but I dislike jolting upright with a scalpel lodged in my sternum. You should see how fast coroners collapse after watching me rise from the dead.A Morbid Epiphany1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This one puts the number at 157. Times I've died, I mean. Don't ask me how it started, because I have no idea. The first time it happened I almost had a heart attack and died again. Ha.
Anyway, I go through what I had come to call the "Zombie Routine." I make sure that my body is still intact, flexing my fingers, moving stiff joints, and stretching out muscles. Apart from the initial incision made by the medical examiner, everything seems unscathed, but as I make my way through the checklist, I notice something is missing - the pinky toe of my right foot is gone.
The sensation of wiggling all but a missing appendage is a strange one. Shuddering, I swing my legs onto the floor, clutch