AdvertisementsShe was only six when the funeral homes started sending us advertisements, all competing with each other to be the best, to win her business. To win our business, more like; six is hardly old enough to understand what's going on. It's not old enough to understand why everyone is covering their mouths with their hands and failing to hold back tears when you walk into the room, or old enough to understand why people begin to outright sob when you start talking about what you want to be when you grow up. Once it was a doctor, before that it was a fairy princess, but right now it's a policewoman.Advertisements3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And of course all the children have heard about the funeral homes. Cold, nasty, make their business in knowing when people are going to die. Not how, as far as anyone can tell, just...when. A lot of kids have had relativesgreat-aunts, great-uncles, maybe great-grandparentsstart getting advertisements, maybe been shown them to know what to look out for, but not Anita. She
America x Reader: I'll Never Leave YouAmerica x Reader: I'll Never Leave You3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Aaagh! Sit down already, America!" England shouted.
"I am the hero!!!" America shouted, giving a thumbs up.
Almost everyone in the World Conference room groaned, facepalmed, or just set there looking at him like he was an idiot...you didn't though. You actually giggled and smiled. Alfred was one of your closest friends and you had been friends with him since before you could even remember.
Looking at him being a loudmouth, trying to talk and eat at the same time, and smiling like an idiot, brought back so many childhood memories for you
"Come on ______! It's only a little bit farther!" A small ten year old Alfred said enthusiastically as he held your hand and tugged you along.
"Alfie, where are we going?" you asked, blinking a few times.
"I told you that it's a surprise!" he laughed, still pulling you forward.
You just smiled at him. He was so silly and adventurous
"Britain is going to be very angry that we ran off without telling him." You said,
The Little SparrowHer name was Emma, and she wasn't afraid of falling. For as long as she could remember she had been jumping - always plummeting. She understood the laws of nature: no matter how high she climbed, gravity would always carry her back to the ground; gravity would always grant her momentum to fall and wind-resistance to float. She understood why birds had wings and humans didn't; it was because humans would just as soon leave, and they belonged on the ground.The Little Sparrow3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They always called her a little sparrow, always trying to fly, but they never understood that she didn't want updrafts or wings, she only wanted to scale walls and scurry up trees, to test the limits.
She wanted to throw herself from rooftops and swan dive from balancing bars, challenging inertia and gravity and the laws of motion. She wanted to cannonball into puddles and see if the ocean caught her, or if she merely fell through the earth to the steaming, bubbling core. She wanted to lift up her arms in triumph, her hair
a picture of a plane.The day her daddy got sent away, the whole neighborhood fluttered with closing curtains and eyes watching through cracked doors. His wife called it a mistake, the cousins called it rape and said he was a pedophile.a picture of a plane.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And she just kept dipping her fingers into paint and dreaming about kites and the eyelashes on dolls, because she didn't know what any of those words meant.
A year later, he came back, and she washed the sidewalk so he couldn't see that she was drawing their secret in light blue and petal pink chalk.
"Those are nice pictures, baby," her daddy would tell her, but she hated it, because he always sounded sick, and he would rub her back with those big, rough hands until the neighbor's blinds twitched like the nervous wings of a bird.
Aleksander finally made her daddy stop, because he sat on his porch all day with a scratchy blanket in his lap, saying prayers beside a full ashtray.
"Why does he do that?" she asked him in July. "I don't like it when he does that."
He patted her
Deadbird BackgroundDeadbird Background3 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
CreepyPasta- The HackI've always been a fan of the Pokemon games. I remember getting into the cards as a kid, and from there I went to the show, and finally, the games. And even though I got rid of my cards long ago, and I haven't watched the show in years, when the new games come out, I'm always excited to try them out and spend days playing them. And every once in a while, I go back to my old games for a nostalgia trip. Call me childish, but something about those old games keeps calling me back for more, no matter how many times I play through them.CreepyPasta- The Hack4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The problem is that my Pokemon blue version can't save anymore. Whether it's a dead internal battery or just a worn out cartridge after literal weeks of solid playtime, the game just couldn't take it anymore and gave out. My red version still works, but for some reason I always preferred blue. Maybe it's because of the color scheme, or because I got Blue version first, but I always liked Blue version better. I never had yellow, so playing that was out of the
Romano x Reader: Ti AmoRomano x Reader: Ti Amo3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Lovino what are you so annoyed about THIS time?" you asked, looking at your pouting Italian best friend.
"None of your damned business!" he shouted, folding his arms.
You frowned. You had been friends with Romano since well forever! But there were times where he was a royal pain in the ass, like right now.
"Lovino, give me a break. You know you can talk to me about anything; right?" you said, putting a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off stubbornly.
Your frown deepened and your eyes saddened a bit as well. There was no telling how long you had continued to assure him that he could talk to you about anything, but he never really opened up. There were times when he would lean against your shoulder or sit a little closer to you and give off a sort of emotion but he never really came out with it.
"You've been acting weird for like three weeks now and it's getting worse. I'm really worried about you." You continued.
"Well stop worrying already!" he growled.
Ok, now y
Creepypasta: Laughing JackLAUGHING JACKCreepypasta: Laughing Jack2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son James was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. James has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Fido, when I heard what sounded like James talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, so I decided to go outside and check on him.
When I went into the backyard I was a bit confused, because James was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could have sworn I heard another voice. “James! It’s time to come inside.” I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table, it was about lunchtime so I decided to make him a turkey sandwich. “James. Who were you talking to out t
You Said You Loved Me You said you loved me.You Said You Loved Me11 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I was your first character.
I remember when you first submitted a picture of me onto the internet. You were so happy when you got a compliment on me. Granted, there weren’t many. You weren’t a popular artist. But that was alright, because even one or two positive comments motivated you to draw more.
I remember when you made a second character. His design wasn’t exactly the most original, like, I’ll admit it, my own design. But you were happy with his design. And seeing you happy made me happy as well.
After some more positive feedback, you made another character. She was a little stereotypical, a bit of a “Mary-Sue” if you will, but no one seemed to mind. Because you weren’t bothering anyone, and you were happy.
I’ll admit it. I got a little jealous when you paid attention to the other two characters, rather than I. But I got over it
Yarn - StoryYarn - Story3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There it lies before me. Silently criticising me. Mocking me. Motionless. An orb. Large. Round. And very. Very. Blue.
This is not the first time I have come face to face with this foe. Nor will it be the last. Soon I shall annihilate him! And the safety of humanity will fall upon me. Tiddle's the superior!
Well what did you think I was going to say? Do you really think there are such things as super heroes? Don't be silly! Kittens however. We exist. Sadly not all of us have homes and we are forced to roam the streets, keeping those nasty rodents and their diseases at bay. Sadly, though, your human minds do not see us as the reliable cleaners we are, you see us on the streets and assume we are worthless or broken.
However, back to the orb. I'm not allowed to touch the orb. O
Loki X Reader: Popcorn(Name) sighed and got up for what seemed like the millionth time that hour. With being one of the most impressive agents S.H.E.I.L.D has, they trusted her with housing their latest criminal from another realm. Being temporarily out of service with they rebuilt Stark Tower.Loki X Reader: Popcorn2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And being also the youngest, Agent Fury came up with some lame excuse how he is giving her a chance to do her country a favor. (Name) knew she was really doing Fury a favor and what he really meant was, “you’re the youngest and I’m your boss. I don’t want to deal with him!”
And currently the ‘him’ in question is living with the young Agent, and making a mess of her usually tidy kitchen. She made her way to the kitchen to see Loki, as hot as ever, but also surrounded by popped popcorn and an innocent, kicked puppy dog, look on his face as if to say it wasn’t his fault. But (Name) knew better. It was totally him, God of Mischief. Stuart, her tabby cat, was making himself
South Italy X Reader - HappinessSouth Italy X Reader - Happiness2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
South Italy X Reader
* I've got to turn this car around, I never should have left you there * - Alexis Jordan
You've been on my mind...Quite frankly, you're heavy. Get off.You've been on my mind...7 years ago in General More Like This
Papa!FrancexLittle!Reader - PricelessPapa!FrancexLittle!Reader - Priceless3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was raining hard one Saturday afternoon, as Francis was driving back from another unsuccessful World Conference. "Mon dieu, L'angleterre is just jealous of moi~" He stated angrily to no one in particular. He had had a bad day, and was in a pissed off mood, but sighed when he admitted that anger got him no where but drunk and naked. Maybe Arthur was right for once. France was a little careless around alcohol and the ladies, because a mixture of both was never good in the end. But it wasn't his fault! He needed someone's support to keep him grounded and help him remember his responsibilities. Someone he could look at and just remember what was important in life. Of course, when his dear Matthieu had lived with him, Francis had a habit of drinking less. He was always busy with the company provided by his Canada, but ever since he moved out a long time ago, France was left all alone with nothing but alcohol to drown his sorrows in. France decided he needed something &
Liu"Liu"Liu3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Ever since Jeff the Killer had left his home many years ago, no one had dared go near his old house. Not even the police. Therefore, the bodies of his parents and his brother, Liu, had been untouched, decomposing, rotting away in the house that was once so happy. Now it reminded the town of nothing but what had happened all those years ago.
Jeff was 19 years old when he happened upon the house again. He had been killing people nationwide, and travelled wherever the flow of blood would take him. Today it lured him back to the neighborhood. He saw the house he once lived in. "Well well WELL!" he said, somewhat surprised. "If it isn't my old home!" He ran to the door and opened it, and called into the house, "Hi mommy! Hi daddy! I'm home!" He laughed, knowing no living human being was still in the house. All of his old electronics and drawings were still scattered on the floor. His homework assignments from when he was in the hospital were on the dining room table collecting dust. W
The GunslingerThe Gunslinger4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You mean you ain't never heard of the Gunslinger?"
The bar was almost dead at this time of night, and the question seemed to echo around the room - emphasising the sudden silence, rather than masking it.
"No, boy, I ain't."
Only a handful of stragglers remained, the dregs of the evening clearing the dregs of their whiskeys. The lights shone dimly, and everything moved lethargically in the warm Texas night.
"Well I'll be. I thought everyone 'round here knew the story of the 'slinger'," said one of the stragglers a tall, skinny man wearing a pale cowboy hat. A battered guitar rested on his knee.
"I'm new in town."
They sat at the bar - the musician and the newcomer. The guitarist resumed a lazy melody across the treble strings.
"Oh really?" he drawled, fingers sliding slowly over the fretboard. "And how are y'all finding our little patch of dirt?"
"Whiskey's expensive. Women all look like men," the newcomer replied. "Music's terrible," he added, eying up the musician suspiciously
Untitled Tiger Project Part 1Untitled Tiger Project Part 12 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.