Memories*walks into the room and stops in the middle*Memories1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
"You think you know about humilliation? You don't. Maybe you know a thing or two, I don't know. Whatever. But I can tell you something. Humilliation is a weapon. A weapon some people use to take down people they don't like or the ones they envy or even the ones they see as weak. I've felt it. I was the target of these people for years. And I suffered in silence. Why? Because I didn't want others to worry about me. And every time I tried to fight back, I only made thngs worse. I was a kid, I didn't know any better. But the worst was the anger I've biult up within. The anger that makes one wish for a demented and twisted revenge aganist those that hurt others just because it's fun. I planed to kill some of these bullies. I even planed to kill myself and put an end to it. But I'm still here. Me and the emotional scars. Scars that will never heal, no matter what. I don't even know why I'm sharing this with you guys. Maybe it's just something I
MenaceTick. Tock. Tick. Tock.Menace3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Silence lay heavy in my grandparents’ house; it always had. In the dim and musty cavern of the den, a stray shaft of winter light speared the shadows, dust motes moving sluggishly in the colloidal suspension of time. Only the slowly-swinging pendulum of the grandfather clock marked Change’s wake, commemorated the fallen hours of afternoon.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I turned another page in my novel, the crisp sound of paper loud in the empty room. My family would be returning in another day, with all its tumbling rambunctious cacophony, like a circus let off-leash; as much as I missed them all, I was uncomfortable envisioning so much noise and color and motion invading the quiet, orderly stasis I had become accustomed to. Nothing had changed in this place for decades. The burn-scars on the carpet, the worn upholstery of the furniture, the cast copper horses on the clock — all was as it had been since long before I was born. A small creature gone
tru story thoIt was a normal, yet tragic day for Puppy. She had just finished sniffing socks from the dirty laundry, trying to figure out who the fuck wore them last. She had recently gotten into a fight with another mental health patient in the hospital and had to be tranquilized in order to calm her down. She woke up screaming ''I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!'' and tried to beat the wall after tearing her bed in two. She decided to throw her roommate through the window and use their bed instead. Puppy had a hard, long, tragic life. Finding out that everyone is one person and the idea of people like the same sex was destroying her soul. Although she had found true love, in a nurse at the very hospital she's been in for two years now. The nurse was named Reverie, but Puppy was too much on a tsundere to admit her feelings. She often yelled ''I don't even LIKE you, baka!'' at Reverie to hide her true feelings. The sun had rised again on another day for Puppy and her adventures. She went out to get 1% decatru story tho2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Out of the Ashes He burned down their house by the road. He built a fire in the middle of the living room floor and sat warming himself 'til he saw the fire was out of control. Then he staggered up and walked the path to his mother's house in the middle of the night.Out of the Ashes2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
He told her, "Our house is on fire."
She didn't believe him because he was drunk and, drunk, he was a constant liar.
"Just go to sleep on that couch and leave your baby and wife alone here," she said. She went back to bed and slept, but also checked on him to be sure his little family wasn't bothered by his drunken lies and abuse. She could control him as his mother.
In the morning dawn, a farmer from down the road a piece knocked on her door.
She hurried to answer. People were still sleeping and the knock sounded urgent.
"Missus, that h
Fast Forward to a Few Years Later Although they never met, my two best friends had much in common. Both of them shared my enthusiasm for martial arts. Both of them had silly sides that matched my own. Whenever I talked to either friend, we felt equally at ease alternating between trading jokes and discussing serious topics within our limited experience.Fast Forward to a Few Years Later1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Most importantly, I had to wait nine years after they moved before I could be reunited with them.
At the age of nine, I had moved from Alexandria and started fourth grade at an international school in Cairo. I had enrolled in an after-school Tae Kwon Do class and was told by the instructor to wait in the corner of the room for class to begin. Sitting cross-legged on the ledge of a large window was a tall brown-haired boy in glasses looking intently ahead. I walked over to the boy and asked if I could take a seat. With a nod of approval, I sat next to him and we began to converse. He introduced himself as Mikael Hedegaard from Denma
DA bestiary [Read if you own a specie please]Journal.DA bestiary [Read if you own a specie please]1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I'm doing myself something like a DA species bestiary.
Want yours to be in?
All credits will be given and stuff, if I'm allowed to, I could draw some individuals of your own race (of course I won't keep em or sell if you won't allow me) just for fun and to have the bestiary complete.
Each one of them will be in alphabetical selection, so it will be easier for everyone to find them own and probably I'll do it under a Powerpoint thing, using Photoshop and SAI to make pics or to add em in the sheet etc.
What do you think?
If you approve, send me your species but fill this form please:
Specie name: [no need to explain]
Specie info: [all the infos plus the pics of the race]
Allowed to draw: [Yes or no]
Allowed to keep one: [I mean to draw one to keep for me - Yes or no]
Allowed to insert to the bestiary: [yes or no]
Original or fandom based: [Like if completely original or a specie of pony, cats, etc who belongs to a specific fandom]
Well, shit: the story of my first almost-crush.Today, I’m going to tell you all about my first almost-crush. I say “almost”, because I didn’t really have a crush on him. Rather, I refused to have a crush on him. Because if I had a crush on him, which I definitely did not, then I would have gotten drawn into some dramatic and super clichéd high school love triangle, and I did NOT have time for that kind of idiotic insanity in my life, no siree! I had exams to take, grades to make, Thanksgiving pumpkin pie to bake – there was no room left for the ridiculous topic of relationship drama.Well, shit: the story of my first almost-crush.1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
At least, that’s how it was before my best friend decided to start asking me for guy advice. Every. Single. Day. I mean, I love her to death, and she is an absolute genius, having won a Google essay contest her freshman year and gotten a 34 on the ACT while taking four AP classes, but I still question her logic in coming to me to talk about guys. Espec
About the Blues There were reasons I was going to write about a grand mal seizure. Heck, I still have the reasons: I feel like it and it's on my mind. I say "it" because I only had one and it was some time ago. But they say I did a bang-up job of it.About the Blues2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
My sister told me, "I woke you up to tell you it was time to go to the horse show, and you stood there and said you had a headache and wouldn't make it. Made me mad, actually. Then you keeled over and it's good my husband was there to catch you."
I remember the headache. Worst one I've ever had, truly crippling. I didn't want to disappoint my sister and her husband though. After all, my daughter and I were staying with them for an unspecified length of time. I'd even grown fond of the friggin horse shows.
The memory that's most embarrassing is a big sign the seizure isn't a small one -- loss of control of the bladder. Check. Tremors. Check. And I guess you stick out your tongue and your eyes go kinda
An Audience of OneHow many people have to enjoy your creations before they are considered art? What if you only share it with one person you love?An Audience of One1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When I was in the U.S. Navy on deployment, my father would send me little abstracts he drew on pieces of card stock. I was his only audience. To me, they are the greatest art he ever did and they mean so very much to me. Art is emotion, and he showed his love for me with these. They are very special. There are many more in his gallery folder on my page. http://mistgod.deviantart.com/gallery/5376791/Dad-s-artwork-James-Leon-Devine-1937-2008
Thanks for letting me share him a bit. Artist: James Leon Devine 1937 - 2008
A Rant“Cheer up. You have a lot of things to be thankful for that others don’t have. You’re pretty, you’re smart, and your parents are together.”A Rant2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
If someone says those words again, I think I might snap.
Just about everyone has a metaphoric anchor—typically a discomforting circumstance or memory—that brings him or her down. Mine is my familial situation.
A lot of people are misled to believe that I’ve had a supportive, loving upbringing. Nothing is farther from the truth. Yes, my biological parents are married. Marriage is not synonymous to happiness though, and in this case, is quite the opposite. My mom says she would’ve left my dad a long time ago if it weren’t for this—my brother is disabled. It’s a struggle caring for him, and I can’t imagine one person doing it. Thus, I can’t really blame my mom for staying with my father. However, the situation we’re in due to the fact that we’re all still i
How I Found Love Through SonichuAuthor's Note: Incredible though it may sound, the following is a true story. I've wanted to tell this for quite a while now, and since it's a rather special day for a rather special someone, it seemed like just the right moment. I hope you enjoy this account of true love and horrible webcomics, and please feel free to wish :icontatsunokoori: a very happy birthday!How I Found Love Through Sonichu2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
How I Found Love Through Sonichu
"Keep going! This is looking to be one hell of a story!" - TatsuNoKoori, May 5, 2012
That comment was the first one I'd received since starting my deviantART account and posting the first tentative chapter of the story that would soon become CWCollateral: A Tale of the Resistance. I'd been intrigued by the infamous webcomic Sonichu and its creator, one Christian Weston Chandler, for about a month at that point. Somewhere along the line, I decided to try my hand at re-imagining the story from a different perspective...that o
quince.Eine bleibende Kindheitserinnerung von mir ist, als unser Fernseher kaputt ging. Unser Vater verfrachtete seine Söhne ins Auto, fuhr ins Fachgeschäft und kaufte einen neuen Fernseher. Einfach so, ohne lang herumzufackeln. Das hatte mich tief beeindruckt. Irgendwie hatte ich erwartet, er würde die Sache auf seine übliche Art und Weise angehen: mehrere Geschäfte aufsuchen, Tagelang Angebote vergleichen, das beste Preis-Leistungs-Verhältnis finden, den Verkäufer zu einem Rabatt überreden und noch einmal darüber schlafen – solche Dinge. Aber ein Fernseher war für meinen Vater ein Artikel des täglichen Bedarfs, wie eine Rolle WC-Papier. Ist die alte leer, muss sofort eine neue her.quince.1 week ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ähnlich machte es meine Zimmernachbarin in der WG, als sie von ihrem Freund verlassen wurde. Sie schminkte sich, ging hinaus und kam mit einem neuen zurück. Ich war ziemlich verblüfft.
Für andere Leute gehört ein erfülltes
catorce.Meine Professoren übten sich im Schulterschluss und bezichtigen mich des „Substanzdualismuses“, ein Vorwurf, der so etwas wie der Granatenwerfer der wissenschaftlichen Grabenkämpfe darstellt. Ich bin kein Substanzdualist, ich weiss überhaupt nicht, ob ich irgendein Ist bin. Für diejenigen unter uns, die nicht wissen, was das genau ist: Substanzdualismus bezeichnet die Lehre, dass wir aus zwei Substanzen bestehen, nämlich aus einem Körper und einer Seele.catorce.2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Früher war diese Vorstellung natürlich gang und gäbe, und einer hat sogar einmal in einem Experiment nachgewiesen, dass die Seele 21 Gramm wiegt. Schon die Versuchsanordnung dieses Experiments alleine ist es wert, die Sache zu erzählen. Dieser Mann wollte Menschen unmittelbar vor und unmittelbar nach Eintreten des Todes wiegen, um dann aus der Gewichtsdifferenz auf das Gewicht der Seele zu schliessen, welche ja gemäss der damaligen Lehre in just diesem Zeitpunkt entweic
doce.Es gibt ja eigentlich nur zwei Religionen auf dieser Welt: Entweder glaubt man an die Wiedergeburt oder nicht. – „Stefan, neiin, wo denken Sie hin! Ein Fussballspieler ist doch nicht gebildet!“ – Wer nicht an die Wiedergeburt glaubt, muss an das ewige Leben glauben, welches ausgerechnet nach dem Tod stattfinden soll, was ich noch originell finde. Hier haben wir Christen, Muslime und Juden, dort Hindus und Buddhisten. In beiden Fällen muss man sterben, um weiterzuleben; denn keine Religion glaubt an den ewigen Tod. Es gibt zwar Leute, die glauben, dass der Tod endgültig ist, aber die nennen sich nicht Gläubige, sondern Wissenschaftler. Die glauben nicht, die wollen wissen, weshalb sie auch „Ungläubige“ heissen. Obschon natürlich gerade das mit dem ewigen Tod genau genommen auch Glaubenssache ist, schliesslich gibt es keinen wissenschaftlichen Beweis dafür, dass nach dem Tod nichts kommt.doce.1 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Die Monotheisten meinen, das Dasei
GreyhoundHe was a greyhound.Greyhound2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Tall, a full head of dark hair, slim as a model. His limbs moved tantalizingly slow and graceful, as if he lived on another plane where time ticked slower. I found myself wondering if he could run as fast as a greyhound. Protruding collar bones, a long thin neck, an Adams apple, ripe and red. Long slim fingers grazed his hair periodically. I've seen him in briefs, and even tho hairless, he was just right, even tho his hair wasn't my usual fancy, it looked just right on him. There was nothing on him or about him that would make me notice him, but I still did. Not a crush, nor a platonic thing, in my head he was only worth one painting, one brush stroke to immortalize this tall beauty. He probably noticed me staring, more than on one occasion, but I don't mind. Admiration never insulted anyone, did it?
trece.Heute gingen Nico und ich in den Prado, was ein Museum ist – das erkennt man an den vielen Bildern, die an den Wänden herumhängen. Wir stellten uns vor das erste Gemälde und betrachteten es eine Weile. Danach verschoben wir uns zum zweiten Gemälde und betrachteten dieses eine Weile. „Wie lange muss man ein Gemälde jeweils betrachten“, fragte ich den Freund, „steht das in deinem Kunstführer“. – „Wenn wir schon hier sind und bezahlt haben“, sagte er, „will ich alle Exponate sehen und darum müssen wir schön der Reihe nach gehen.“ Oh-oh, machte es wieder in mir wie Rainman, gleich kriege ich wieder einen Anfall. Die Gefühle kamen im Galopp und dann gingen die Pferde mit mir durch. „Hör mit dem Dampf auf, du Teekessel, es braucht mir keiner Feuer unter der Blume zu machen“, sagte der Bugs Bunny. „Jeder in seinem Tempo“, sagte ich. Das hatte unser Turnlehrer atrece.3 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Battery MendellIt was just about sundown in the Marin Headlands. Away on the horizon, the Farallon Islands were silhouetted against the sun; the breeze had fallen, the world holding its breath. Across the Golden Gate Bridge, glorious in the dying light, The City sparkled and hummed inaudibly.Battery Mendell3 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Kicking around the old bunker in the lengthening blue shadows, conversation had fallen into a lull, as well. Tired of scuffing pebbles with his shoe, Josh followed me down the crumbling concrete steps as I went to examine the heavy iron doors, rusted shut with the fog of a century.
“That’s where the Morlocks come out,” he said, jokingly.
Two things happened at once. The sun dipped in its final dive below the horizon, the last gold melting into the cold fingers of waiting fog on the western sea.
And in the empty warren of corridors riddling the mountain beneath us, we all simultaneously felt something wake up.
It was old. We knew that much. And we knew it was dreadful.
And it was comin
Procrastination CrapIt's dark now. The last drops of sunlight have been drained from the valley, leaving the soft film of twilight over the camp. She has long since left the safety behind the white line and wanders in the forest alone. Her footsteps are light on the ground, careful not to make a sound louder than the whispers of the tree around her. She crouches low to the ground as she moves through the shadows, keeping her ragged, frightening breathing under control. To her, it's more than a game. In her mind, the shouts in the valley are from a great battle where her allies fall to the ground with dead eyes and blood wets the long grass. Capture the Flag is a simple game, but in darkness, it turns to a deadly fight for survival that can only be ended with a triumphant ringing of the victory bell and a flag held high by the victors. Until then, the campers are brutal hunters. The girl freezes as she hears the voices of older campers drawing near. Dropping into a crouch, she presses into the bush and watProcrastination Crap3 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
My List1. I have loved, and I have lost, neither in the way that you would expect. This isn't a typical autobiography, so you'll just have to bear with me.My List1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
2. I've tried to write down my life many times, but can never seem to get to the end. Previously, I've written poems, essays, and unintelligible gibberish on the subject. Thus, my current format, as you see before you, is a list.
3. Most of these sentences are going to begin with "I". That is the nature of humans, myself, and autobiographies.
4. I shall warn you right now, if you are expecting a story of a little misfit that has a horrible beginning but somehow scrapes together a happy ending, this list isn't for you. In fact, I suppose you could say that my life is reversed: it began sweet and happy, and has gotten progressively worse throughout the years. Again, I am unsure of how this story will end. Right now, I'm just giving you a heads up that the ending isn't looking so great, at the moment.
5. That was just a brief introduction. Th
Smash Bros. 3DS Mii ListMyself (gunner)Smash Bros. 3DS Mii List1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
My Brother (swordsman)
His friend (swordsman)
Miley Cyrus (brawler)
AJ Lee (brawler)
Jill Valentine (gunner)
Eva Marie (brawler)
Summer Rae (brawler)
Chie Satonaka (brawler)
Rise Kujikawa (brawler)
Vida Rocca (gunner)
Vannelope Von Schweetz (gunner)
Katy Perry (swordsman)
Claire Redfield (gunner)
Lara Croft (gunner)
Joan Reese (gunner)
Stephanie Foley (gunner)
Billy Ray Cyrus (swordsman)
Michael Sweet (swordsman)
Ozzy Osbourne (swordsman)
Ronnie James Dio (swordsman)
Cornelia li Britannia (swordsman)
Demi Lovato (gunner)
Hayley Williams (gunner)
Wonder Woman (brawler)
Tifa Lockheart (brawler)
Black Widow (brawler)
Mitsuru Kirijo (swordsman)
Idiot Anecdote 1 When I was young and significantly chubbier, my mother thought it'd be a great idea to take me to a circus because my mother didn't love me enough during that strange time of my life. Whether it was extremely delayed postpartum depression and she was trying to kill me through asbestos inhalation or if it was some sort of convoluted punishment will remain a mystery (much like how anyone would have ever thought that circuses would be a good idea).Idiot Anecdote 11 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
That aside, I really hate clowns. Like really hate them. They are manifestations of the piercing screams of damned orphans from the nethers of some sort of BDSM prison realm in the eighteenth dimension but with a little more heroin and dead hookers in the back of comically small car trunks. I don't trust anyone who has to paint a smile on their face because they forgot what joy feels like after fending for themselves by selling tamales (this was in Mexico) and their dreams because their
dieciseis.Während Julia hier in Madrid weilte, kriegte ihre Katze zu Hause in Bern Junge. Ich ging einmal vorbei, weil ich dachte, wenn Julia das alles verpasst, dann sollte ich es mir wenigstens nicht entgehen lassen. Die Katze hatte sich unten in Julias Schrank ein improvisiertes Nest mit heruntergefallenen Kleidungsstücken und Halstüchern gebaut. Und dort lagen sie, die drei kleinen Fellknäuel, gerade ein paar Wochen alt.dieciseis.2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Man könnte stundenlang dasitzen, nur um ein kleines Kätzchen noch ein bisschen länger in seinen Händen zu halten. Irgendwie tut es gut und ich begann zu begreifen, warum Julia eine „tiergestützte Psychotherapie“ ins Leben rufen will. Hält man so ein Tierchen in den Händen, wird man sofort zu einem besseren Menschen. Eben war man noch voller bitterem Stolz und wollte die Welt niederbrennen, jetzt denkt man: Nö, lass mal.
Irgendwann öffnen die Kleinen ihre Äugelein und finden heraus, dass sie Bei