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
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
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
I hate --I hate --4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I hate that I have nothing better to do than to make this list.
I hate how I'm going to make about 43578978 typos while writing this.
I hate how I'm too lazy to go back and fix said typos.
I hate that I don't have word office or whatever to correct my typos.
I hate that my computer crashes every other month.
I hate how I still don't use a flash drive to back my work up.
I hate that I had so many unfinished, near-completion pictures I lost because of said crash.
I hate how long it takes me to finish art trades.
I hate how people take shit so seriously.
I hate that I used to take shit so seriously.
I hate how people can take the -internet- so seriously.
I hate that there will be those few select people who take these lists seriously.
I hate how out of those people, a few of them will pretend to take it seriously, but they really don't, and are just arguing for the lulz.
I hate how much I love reading do it for the lulz's stuff.
I hate yaoi.
I hate yaoi's incredibly scary fan base.
2P!Canada x Child!Reader - Set Fire To The RainAsh burned the skin of her throat, making it hard to breath; the house was burning down in an inferno of flames. In the main dining room a child's body, a female at the age of five, laid, covered in ash, sweat and blood. She is going to die, burn alive... Her parents were nowhere to be seen... outside this burning mass, snow/ash was slowly falling to the ground, coating the concrete in fine layer. "M-Mummy" The young girl's voice choked, gripping onto whatever she could find, which a table cover that draped to the floor, it was somehow untouched by the flames of the fire. Pulling it down, ________ hid under it, maybe it could be the only thing that saved her from dying... Who knows...?2P!Canada x Child!Reader - Set Fire To The Rain2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Holy crap dude!? Canada! Why the hell have you dragged me in here! Its f*cking burning down!" An American accent sounded above the flames. ______ tugged at her dirty (h/c) hair fearfully, suddenly feeling a cord that was wrapped around her neck. A silver whistle was attached to the string... She quickly
LooLa's 100 Themes List1) BeginningLooLa's 100 Themes List5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
7) The First Time
9) Growing Up
13) Sea Glass
15) Fight or Flight
16) Skeletons in the Closet
17) Six Feet Under
21) Creative Visualization
22) New Growth
23) Flash Flood
25) Where No Man Has Gone Before
27) Over the Moon
28) Thin Ice
34) Night Light
43) Pearly Gates
48) Out of the Blue
49) Home Stretch
52) Time Travel
54) Treasure Map
57) Twenty-Four Hours
58) Abandon Ship
65) City Lights
70) Golden Years
CrayonsLife is like a box of crayons.Crayons7 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
Be a ManPlease read the author's comments after reading this. This was meant to be an equal rights piece, not just women's.Be a Man4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I might not be hot.
I might not be skinny.
Hell, I might not even be the girl your father wants you to bring home.
But that's not my problem.
It's not my desire to be your slut, your whore.
I know I'm not the girl the team talks about in the locker room.
And don't you for a second think I wish I was.
I wear what I want, do what I want, go and say what I want because I'm me.
I'm me for myself, I'm me for God and I'm me for life.
Nothing you say or do will ever change that.
And if you're reading this and you're one of the boys that I find myself lucky enough to call a friend?
Don't hurt me.
Don't give me a reason to believe that you're all the same, that the good I see in you is fake and exists nowhere in your gender.
Don't treat me with less because I have more.
Attraction is one thing, but don't try to tear down my beauty because I don't suit what
Monsoon [one] Jack Frost and Pitch BlackMonsoon [one] Jack Frost and Pitch Black2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Jack stared out at the barren wasteland of snow and ice and winter’s coldness. His heart ached and felt so much more numbness than it had despite the snow. He thought of the friends he could have had, the time they could have shared together; him, Tooth, North, Bunnymund; the Yeti's, the Elves, even if he'd chosen differently, Pitch, perhaps.
He laughed inwardly at the thought. Chosen differently? The grey skinned man smiling down at him from his dungeon of darkness, full of shadows and Nightmares, where Jack would undoubtedly stay, since the children would fear him, and the Guardian would hate him. He thought of the way the elegant man moved, his shadow carrying him across rooms and worlds like the wind carried Jack. He thought of Pitch’s eyes, the golden-grey of haunted hatred.
Jack frowned. He wondered what it would have been like to be feared. The children would hate him, he thought again. Of course they would. His frown deepe
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 Dare You To Read This [Author x Reader]I Dare You To Read ThisI Dare You To Read This [Author x Reader]8 months ago in Emotional More Like This
[Author x Reader]
I dare you to read this all the way through. You’ll get a prize at the end. I promise. Just read this all the way through. You don’t need to be embarrassed! It’s just you and me here, and I won’t make fun of you – I swear. Trust me, I’m in no position to be doing that.
Can I start?
Okay, I’m going to.
I’m going to start by saying that you are [Full Name]. You are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You are [Full Name], and there’s not another [Full Name] on anywhere else.
Don’t take that literally.
Of course, there are probably tons of people with the same first name, maybe a handful of people with the same full name. However, those [Full Name] s, are not the same [Full Name] as you. The [Nick Name] – is it alright if I call you that? Or rather the [Preferred Alias] reading this, is different from, may
30 day theme challenge Each day you draw something related to the following:30 day theme challenge2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
3. A second chance
23. Night Sky
24. Give up
27. No Way Out
I HATEI hate RACISMI HATE2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I hate HOMOPHOBIA
I hate SEGREGATION
I hate WAR
I hate BULLIES
I hate AGEISM
I hate DISABLEISM
I hate LINGUICISM
I hate SEXISM
I hate TRANSPHOBIA
I hate EMPLOYMENT DISCRIMINATION
I hate RELIGIOUS DISCRIMINATION
I hate RACIAL SEGREGATION
I hate SLAVERY
I hate STEREOTYPING
I hate PREJUDICE
I hate GENOCIDE
I hate ADULTISM
I hate CHILD ABUSE
I hate WOMAN ABUSE
I hate POVERTY
I hate ALCOHOLISM
I hate UNEMPLOYMENT
I hate PEER PRESSURE
I hate CONSCRIPTION
I hate DRUG ABUSE
I hate IGNORANCE
I hate a lot of things... but does that make me a bad person?
How To Say GoodbyeDear Unborn Child, Whom I Let Go;How To Say Goodbye3 years ago in Letters More Like This
When I was thirteen and four months old, and you were thirteen years younger, I decided to let you go. You squirmed in opposition beneath my ribcage, up against my pelvis, and I licked my lips and tried to smile while I leaned my forehead on the cool glass of the car, hellbound.
I remember sea weed insertion, dilation, cramps and bleeding. Orange smoothies from Dairy Queen that I threw up, and I hoped you were mingling in the remains of my summer day treat, so I could put this behind me. Pretend I was 'moving on'. I laid in the bathtub of a hotel room for six hours, trying to melt you away in scalding water from a rusty tap, yet you clung on, holding tightly to the walls of my pelvic region. Wiggling upwards, towards my throat. Past my teeth. You're trying to get out, but my family has decided you won't breathe when you're released from your bloody shackles; you may as well settle down now, sweet son, settle down.
The rest of this, to me, is a blur. Th
Naruto Oc MakerName:Naruto Oc Maker5 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:
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
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
Haters are Gonna HateHaters are Gonna Hate2 years ago in Letters More Like This
Haters are gonna hate
Some people in their lives will have haters stalk them ,send them hate mail,
make their friends stab them in their backs, and make others hate them with their lies, pretty much try to hurt them in any possible way that they can...
If this sounds like you, well then listen up your not alone,
around the world there are people like us that seem to get hate all the time and
enemies,,, , why do you get them and what can you do?
Well first of all we get haters for these reasons
1) We have a talent
2) you're a people person
3) others like you
4) Your life is successful
5) you feel good about yourself
And last but not least
6) You have something they want
That is pretty much the summary of why we get haters….
Most of the time, it is best to ignore, after all there will always be people who will envy you.
Unfortunately, when you get a pro hater, in other words a hater that really hates your guts and has the evil skills of making you miserable, that
I miss ya, mate.Dear friend,I miss ya, mate.3 years ago in Letters More Like This
when we stumbled over each other in the Australian outback in 99, I was young and eager to explore the wild on my own, something you had already achieved long before. I did not know your name, nor your face, and you, ever so humble, appreciated that more than I knew. With me, you were able to be an ordinary man.
Camp Cooee turned upside down with you around, as it sometimes did, despite its location way out in the bush, nestled between the trees. We became friends and brothers in arms for a brief time, and despite my inability to explain the theory of relativity to someone as hyper as you, you still perked up and listened with a bright shine in your eyes when I told you that all the world and its inhabitants are made from stardust. It was the same shine you always had when we talked about wildlife.
I'm thankful to have learned a great deal from you about the outback, survival methods, how to deal with snakes and other dangerous wildlife. It has been my honor and privilege
A Rose by Any Other NameA Rose by Any Other Name5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
In a white hospital bed, pale as the lifeless bones of a decaying skeleton, with my flesh exposed through the backless dress of my hospital gown, I listen to nurses discuss my mental health. I can taste the quiet tap of a pen on paper and their tiny smiles of contempt.
Shame comes in waves. Its not like a scalpel or the cold touch of a surgeons hand. They never tell you that it can eat away at your insides like a virus. (That it eats you alive). Shame is not a symptom of the mentally ill. Its just a side effect.
In my creased hospital dress, I wish for death. The sweetest sleep away from detached, gloved hands and dissociative expressions. The never-ending hostile questions and the silent blame and accusations lying unspoken on dry lips.
You did this. Youre not sick. Youre just a twisted, manipulative lunatic.
Under medication and the slow Novocain drip of sedation, I wish for another disease. I want a tumor in my head something t