You've been on my mind...Quite frankly, you're heavy. Get off.You've been on my mind...8 years ago in General More Like This
Dear Yaoi Fangirls: I Hate YouDear Yaoi Fangirls: I Hate You10 years ago in Editorial More Like This
I hate yaoi fangirls, and I am one.
You may be looking at me with tears in your eyes right now and saying, "Why Chopstick... why?!"
Well, I'm gonna tell you why.
1. You're just writing about them because they're hot.
Let's just forget that they hated each other in the game. Let's completely forget that both of them were completely straight and had loving girlfriends in the anime. And heaven forbid I bring up the idea that they were really "just friends" in the manga. I'm not really bitching about drabbles or crackfics so much as I am the fifty-page-long epics that completely ignore canon.
AND I MEAN COMPLETELY.
Rinoa was just so whiny and Squall and Seifer were just SO KAWAII, you HAD to kill her or maim her or turn her into a ditzy bitch that Squall despised. I hated her too, you know, but I'm not willing to actually sit down and write her out of the picture in such an abrupt and unlikely way it could be considered a cop-out. For gods' sake, have pride in w
you can't make them love you.He is beautiful, new, unexplored. He has wanted to kiss her ever since they met one week ago and fell prey to helpless chemistry.you can't make them love you.6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Dont, she says, moving her hands in a subconscious yes pattern along his arm as he rubs his cheek against hers. You dont even know my favourite colour. The wind cuts through her thin jacket, and his chest is so warm.
Red, he guesses, improbably correct. His ears are cold.
And how many dogs do I have?
Two, he says, and she laughs wildly at his luck as he nuzzles her neck.
Im trying to save you, she tells him, pushing fruitlessly against his broad shoulders. So you dont wa
Deadbird BackgroundDeadbird Background4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I apologize in advanced for any spelling or grammatical errors -- while I did read over this twice, I may have missed something. Sorry!
"The December wind wrapped itself around the two as they briskly made their way down the crowded sidewalk. They didn't mind the cold all too much for their sheer excitement kept them warm. A mother and a son had traversed into the Inner Sanctum of the Main City to prepare for the festivities. It was the 20th, and on the 21st a world-wide celebration would ring out in glory of their leader's name and birthday. It wasn't just a celebration for him, as on the 21st everyone shared in on the gift giving and good will spreading amongst their friends and loved ones. The mother and son, however, had missed out on their shopping and were forced to rush and see what they could get the night before.
"Every corner they turned and every step they took left them visually bombarded with fantastic, glowing displays of old time toys and new wave technology. Add
Besame -Kiss meBesame -Kiss me5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
*I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. Is property of Hiromu Arakawa, Square Enix, Funimation, and Aniplex
She grabbed his hand desperate. She only wanted to delay him a little bit more. He turned to see her surprised. Before he could even say something she kissed hi
How to Make a VampireVampire lore spans many, many years back into the past and they still remain popular today as one of the most recognized and exalted horror icons in the monster world of fiction. Yet despite having many different variations the world over, some parts have either been watered down or completely written out for today's modern audience. Maybe you want to share in the stable, ever-growing fangirl or fanboy-powered market of vampire literature? Well, look no further. Here are some tips to help get you started:How to Make a Vampire5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
1. Beauty and the Beast Despite there being years and years of pre-existing exotic vampire folklore from all over the world, it really has only dwindled down to two types that actually sell in this day and age. Either: A) Smoking hot undead vampires that want to sex you or B) Incredibly violent gore-loving animals that want to kill everything.
How does one come down to choosing?
Well, just try and figure out what kind of audience you're going to pander to. The mai
i keep looking.wanted:i keep looking.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
a boy with dark hair and bright eyes with a smile that'll drop my stomach to my feet. a boy that says his heart feels more full when he's holding my hand and will tell me how my eyes remind him of the ocean at night because somehow the water looks deeper when cast in milky, silver light. a boy that'll laugh at the way i wrinkle my nose when i'm confused and will tease me because he knows i like nothing more than to be harassed. one that'll throw me over his shoulder and throw me fully clothed into the pool, that'll call me ridiculous, that'll roll his eyes and sigh. one that'll secretly love the fact that i'm a mess because it keeps things interesting.
a boy that respects the fact that i lay down boundaries but likes to steal kisses around them anyways. a boy that messes up my hair when i'm not looking and bites my lip when i'm not paying attention. a boy that doesn't need me, but wants me all the same. one that has a life of his own but has room to fit me in at his sid
DepressionI've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it's that simple.Depression9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just 'has depression.' You suffer from it. This is depression:
You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It's likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you will sleep until 1pm, because it's so much easier to sleep through most of the day than actually live it, and you're so unbelievably tired anyway. You will push through the day, knowing that every hour will be a struggle and not knowing how you will feel tomorrow. People will ask what is wrong, and you will simply smile and say 'nothing, I'm just tired
Untitled Tiger Project Part 1Untitled Tiger Project Part 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The strange feeling came over the tigress Penumbra once again. Her paws tingled, her charcoal hair rose as if electrified, and her body felt faintly as if it were being constricted by the air around her. She flicked her ears in irritation, but she was too used to the phenomenon to express actual alarm. She didn't even bother to raise her head off of her single broad foreleg. The sensation would pass, as it always did, and she paid little mind to it.
It was the water leaking from the rusted pipe above her head that caught her interest, though. She had been absent-mindedly watching the pure water fall, drop by drop, from the peripherals of her vision. Now the rhythmic, predictable dripping slowed until it stopped. Then, in defiance of every law of fluid dynamics that Penumbra knew, the drops of water began to rise from the floor and slip back into the pipe. Penumbra stiffened and swivelled her head to watch.
ObsessionIt takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.Obsession4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.
Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the doctors told us you had an illness. I sat there with your parents, listening to a man who said words like 'terminal' and 'leukemia', and counted the number of times he said 'patient' as if it were your name (Seventeen).
The blood bank says one unit is four hundred and fifty milliliters and I watch as they put the needle into my ar
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens9 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him.
My father. Master of Ravens. Crow-Runner. The Blackbird King.
I pull on my winter boots, knot the coarse laces.
My little brother asks, 'Cam. Where are you going?'
'Out,' I tell him.
'To play in the snow?'
'To look at it.'
When he was born, my little brother was named Taliesin. His is a world without myths, of course. Such things perished in the great f
Dear WriterDear Writer,Dear Writer2 years ago in Letters More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru
ArtWhy does art need to be perfect?Art4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Why throw rules on how to become a good artist onto us?
Why give us direction on how to do it right?
Why send us to the greatest artists for learning?
Why do we need the best learning to become good artists?
Cant we choose what we want to create, in the way we want to create it?
Our flaws is not a negative barrier.
Our flaws can create new and exiting things.
With our flaws we can create something no one else has created.
Only going for what is and looks natural is one of hundreds of paths.
And its not the only "right" one.
You have the choice to go all the paths.
There shouldnt be just a few to choose from, you make up your own.
Art isnt restricted and neither is your imagination.
Art doesnt need to be perfect to be amazing.
I am eight years old.I am eight years old.I am eight years old.4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
My lips are perfectly pink. They don't need to look glossy or tinted redder. My cheeks don't need this, either. My eyes stand out well enough on their own without being lined with black paint. The mascara weighs on my lashes and makes me tired and itchy. This shit on my eyelids shouldn't be there, either.
That was a bad word. I am afraid to say bad words, but I've got a few in my head. My friend told me that the word "bitch" means "female dog," but I think she's wrong. I don't think I've ever heard it used in this context. Actually, I think it's a word for people like you. I say this to you with my eyes. You threaten me because you hear me loud and clear.
Every other weekend, I have to sit here and endure as you put this shit on my face. But that's not why you're a bitch. That's why you're an idiot. What makes you a bitch is the fact that you expect me to be silent and still every time your hand slips and the curling iron burns the top of my ear, or you
Naruto Oc MakerName:Naruto Oc Maker6 years ago in Letters More Like This
Were they born in said village?:
If not what is their original village of birth?:
Why did they leave their birth village?:
Defensive or Offensive:
Name(Made by Masashi Kishimoto):
Name(If You Make Your Own):
How Do They Activate It:
How Is It Used:
Jerk!AmericaxReader Oneshot Classroom Callouts...Jerk!AmericaxReader Oneshot Classroom Callouts...3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Jerk!AmericaxReader Oneshot Classroom Callouts...
Censor for language is already on. Please use your imagination if you'd like to use other words. Thank you!
Today sucked royally for you. First, you slept through your alarm so you were almost late to school. Next, another jerk from [second least favorite class] tripped you in the hallway. You also forgot your homework for third hour in your locker and your teacher wouldn't let you go get it. And now, you're just having a bad day. In a permanent bad mood until you get home.
And the worst part is that all your friends are just running away from you claiming "They know how you get when you're angry and they don't want to mess with it." It figures. You're a nice person. Life of the party when you go out(which isn't very often) and a sarcastic, crack up. Very funny person in short. But the one thing people can never see past to this "cool" side of you is the fact that you take school seri
I'm coming out: I'm straightMom? Mum? Can I talk to you?I'm coming out: I'm straight7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My voice quivered. Both of them looked up at me. Moms head was in Mums lap. Mum was slowly stroking her forehead, leaning down to kiss her forehead while still staring at me intently. A satanic bible was placed in Mums lap, the thin, withered pages torn in a few places from continued reading. You know you can talk to us about anything, Mom said, smiling, sitting up a bit straighter. She leaned over to kiss Mum, who kissed her back. I took a seat on the couch and pulled my knees up to my chin, staring down at my cuticles. Even for a guy, they were pretty nasty.
I took a deep breath. Guys? I dont really know how to say this but, I think Im heterosexual.
The room went silent. Mum looked up from our satanic bible and pursed her lips. For a second, I thought she was going to reach out and slap me. In a tight voice, she said, You know how we feel about heterosexuals. We raised you to be
Don't Fall In Love With A Writer Just because they will bruise your neck with pearls of metaphors; and splash palettes of colours onto your chest with reckless waves and boundless twilight. They will smear ink onto your lips as you kiss them because that is how they leave hickeys. They are wildest in their 2 a.m. diary, and liveliest in book racks of novels; they have butterflies in every heartbeat and they breathe living poems. They leave trails in libraries and coffee shops like Hansel leaves crumbs in forest and they have undying lovers because every love story is ever living in their abyssal oceans of analogies and similes. They know every cliché like the sunset knows the moon rise, and every wound in their heart like blood in their veins. They are terrifying because they weave you in splinters of fires rolling down their cheeks. They are weird because they don't smile much but sometimes you could catch their smiles in poems or tales. They are psychotic bDon't Fall In Love With A Writer1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
NEW 100 Themes Challenge~THE 100 THEMES~NEW 100 Themes Challenge6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
5. Break Up
6. New Love
9. You and Me
10. I Do
12. DO NOT ENTER
15. Kings, Queens, and Jokers
16. Run Free
17. Where are the Crackers?
19. R is for Revenge
21. Do You Want To Know?
24. Rocks Aren't the Same
27. Freedom Isn't Free
32. Dying Fire
33. Breaking Point
37. Don't Go
40. Due Date
41. Sealed in Blood
45. Be a Man
46. Go For a Swim
47. Am I Dreaming?
48. Too Good To Be True
51. Elemental Tempest
52. Too Late
53. But I DIDN'T Do It
56. Lucky 13
57. I'm In
58. Slightly Disturbed
65. Black and White
69. Broken Promise
70. All the Little
CrayonsLife is like a box of crayons.Crayons8 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
At birth, you're given a great big box of them to share and add color to your life.
Some colors get used more than others.
Sometimes, a crayon gets broken. A Bright color gets snapped in half and tossed in the garbage can, never to be returned. Sometimes you keep coloring. Sometimes you can't. That color was important.
Sometimes a crayon is gained, shared between two people. That color might be just perfect, and works great! Other times it's a different shade, but it will make do.
But, there is always one color left in the box.
It's normally unused until death. It's used to frame the picture. To add the final border to the coloring board of life.
Some people use it. They color onto other's pictures with it. Sometimes their own.
They use it to scribble out portions of the picture. Sometimes the portion isn't that important.
Sometimes it is.
Sometimes there are multiple blacks in the box when you open it for the day.. Sometimes there's only one, or i