How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.How to love a girl who can't love herself.2 days ago in Free Verse More Like This
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
Life is a Study of ContrastIf not for the darkness,Life is a Study of Contrast22 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
We wouldn’t know the difference
Between a star and a ball of dust.
Life is a study of contrast.
We get dark,
Not to fall apart
But to shine.
Stay with Me- Sherlock x ReaderThe last thing Sherlock had expected in his return was that you would welcome him with a smile and open arms, especially after how John had reacted. He’d walked up the steps to 221B and hesitantly knocked on the door, sure that he was going to get slapped or worse, but you’d pulled the door open and after the initial moment of shock gave a soft chuckle, “Welcome home, Sherlock Holmes.”Stay with Me- Sherlock x Reader2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In all the time he’d known you, there had never been anything between you beyond a friendship that for some reason worked better than most and was stronger than he ever could have anticipated. It was something that had happened without him ever realizing, that friendship, but right now, sitting in his chair watching you making tea, he wished there had been more- not really for the love but to have a deeper connection, to escape from the loneliness he’d discovered in his heart.
He gave a fleeting smile at the skull still on the mantle before observing the rest of the fl
A Nail In My HeartIn my heartA Nail In My Heart2 days ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
There's a nail
Outside its core,
In my hand
There's a hammer
Leaving me a choice
To pull the nail free
Or leave it to rest
In the center of my soul.
And this nail
However deeply it stabs
Or loosely it traps
The litter of dreams
And hopes I've trapped inside,
Gathering them together
To be displayed like
A dying tribute
To a once loved species,
A once treasured creation,
Decides my fate
And traps my destiny.
And though I know the nail
Needs to be removed
To release my heart
Of its futile struggle
To hold a collection
Of dying memories,
Every time I feel the nail loosen
As I've grown to older,
Every time I grab that hammer
And smash it against
That obvious futilit
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.Blue Eyes in Flames1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,Abandoned Chapel1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
Babysitting - part 1Babysitting - part 13 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Written by geckoguy123456789 (dA)(FA) for Kai
“Come on…. just a little more……” the young jackal muttered, her fingers frantically and skillfully working an Xbox controller while her eyes stayed glued to the TV screen. The flicker of the screen giving her black fur a blueish white hue, her eyes bright and golden taking in every movement like a predator on the hunt. Her character danced around Ultimecia, throwing hit after hit into her, the young jackal unconsciously bobbing and ducking her head in sync with her attacks. While she’d normally be moving her whole body, her swollen abdomen kept her fairly pinned to the couch.
“NUUUUUUUUU!” she yelled as she threw her arms up in defeat, “apocalypse again……” she muttered sullenly as her character was obliterated by the ultimate move and Ultimecia cackled in victory. “Ug……. Why do I even
HauntedI see her there withHaunted16 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
Way WAY Too Many Apple PiesThe spirit of autumn was in full effect as the Fall Festival lasted well into the evening hours. This was when things really started to pick up. Everywhere one looked, one could see the homemade lamps hanging from the clotheslines on high along all the beaten paths, illuminating the booths and pavilions in an ambiance of natural and artificial light. More guests arrived as the golden sunset took center stage. Every so often, a cool breeze would carry with it scents of lavender, pine, and cinnamon; a seasonal bouquet perpetuated by the merchandise of the many vendors and booth owners present on this festive evening.Way WAY Too Many Apple Pies3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Ugh…” Diamond Tiara rubbed her groaning belly as she made her way through the park. “Explain to me again why exactly I let you drag me all the way out into the boonies for some hick festival?”
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Chirped Silver Spoon, placing her hands on Diamond’s shoulders as she walked closel
Six Second Poem"We're all the same," she said. "Friend, tell me," she asked, "how are we different?"Six Second Poem12 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
For six seconds I paused, then I said:
Some of us ..
love more than we hate,
laugh more than we cry,
work harder than we play, but
live before we die.
Some of us don't.
And that, my friend, is how we are all different.
Thoughts of a WitchI lie huddled in the corner of my dungeon cell. It is dark, it is cold; the air is moist and stinks. Pale light pours though a small barred window. I am alone. The straw on the floor stabs into my naked feet. The dirty sackcloth robe scratches at my bloody, abused and bruised skin. Everything hurts and throbs with numb pain. I know I will die soon.Thoughts of a Witch3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I have confessed under the torture. I knew that it would seal my fate, but I could not stand the pain any more. I shiver and tremble as the memories of the unspeakable things they had done to me come back: Their cold hands and fingers touching my body everywhere in search for the mark. As they did not find anything to prove my guilt, they had started to hurt me for a confession. They stab needles in my birthmarks, beat me with sticks and the whip. What followed was the torment on the rack, tearing and stretching my fragile body until I passed out from the pain. The chair with its sharp metal spikes, the screws that crushed my fingers and toe
A Southern Story: Chelsea at the supermarketHey! How you doing, I haven’t seen you since before the reception!A Southern Story: Chelsea at the supermarket2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Aww, that’s good to hear, glad everything’s going okay for you! Me? Oh, I’m just bracing myself for this coming football season. I got stuck in charge of the cheerleaders again, and you know how that turned out LAST year. Put all that effort into getting skinny, ah, well, you know, not quite so hugely fat, and they all looked at me doing that and went back to stuffing their faces.
I’ve already made up my mind, I’m not even going to try this year to make these girls lose any weight. It's down to them, if they want to look good, they can stop stuffing their greedy little faces. If they want to make terrible messes out of themselves, then go ahead, have that fourth plate of nachos. I’m just gonna sit back and let them do it.
We had our first meeting last week and guess who just waltzed in ten minutes late, shoving a Hershey’s bar in her face? Kaitlyn O’Leary, reme
On Objectification: A Poem Against FeminismNote: This poem may seem harsh, but since feminists are allowed to shame men for enjoying harmless entertainment that makes them happy, I don’t see why I should mince words.On Objectification: A Poem Against Feminism2 days ago in Free Verse More Like This
If a man complained,
Of romance novel heroes,
He’d be ignored and disdained,
For reading women’s prose.
So if feminists make a scene,
If they yell and fume,
About a comic heroine,
Or her sexy costume,
Or demand they make her fatter,
Who cares what they presume?
Why should it even matter?
But here’s the real paradox:
The weakest female leads,
The feminist never mocks,
For they’re in the books SHE reads.
Does Bella Swan,
To corporate power rise,
Or fight crime with brawn?
Or is she wooed by guys,
Merely acted upon?
Every romance novel cover,
A woman semi nude,
In the arms of her lover,
Submissive to a dude.
I’m not calling her a liar,
But when her own self-insert,
Gets all the male desire,
It doesn’t seem to hurt.
But when she’s outcompeted for attention,
Just a Grilled Cheese (Sherlock x Reader Drabble)Pan- Check.Just a Grilled Cheese (Sherlock x Reader Drabble)3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Sherlock? Where’s the butter?”
“I used it for an experiment.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that before I went to the grocery so I could get more?”
You let out a little growl at the ceiling, “I’ll just have to ask-“
“I used all Mrs. Hudson’s as well.”
You slumped against the counter. All you had wanted was a grilled cheese. Just toasty bread and melted cheese. But of course in this household that was asking too much.
Two weeks. Two weeks you’d wanted a grilled cheese and every time you went to make one something came up. Needless to say that at this point the craving was almost unbearable.
John came into the kitchen to find you looking at your ingredients with the most dejected look on your face. You looked like a kicked puppy and it was damn near heartbreaking. He wrapped an arm around your shoulde
Boy (2p! America x Reader)Boy (2p! America x Reader)14 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
(2p! America x Reader)
This was just a spark of the moment, why not? Wrote it in one sitting, sorry if it sucks. I felt my fingers begin to write on their own and before I knew it I had a whole plot and characters. Like a warm up I suppose? Music makes you do crazy things; since I listen to music whenever I write it can really change my mood so you may see it in this writing style. Think nothing of it.
Song(s)– Boy by Emma Louise https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xl6IaSvyIOk
“Can you at least pretend like you love me? I’ve tried and tried again to grab your attention!” I sighed and yelled through the phone yet again, my elegant (h/c) falling from its bun. This was the fifth fucking time thi
Mean Messy MeganMegan was a high school senior, but more than that, she was a notoriously sadistic bully, infamous for finding devious ways to torment freshmen. Her methods of torture remained shrouded in mystery, because her victims were often too terrified of what would happen if they were to report her.Mean Messy Megan6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Megan was quite tall, even for a senior, which made it even easier for her to tower over her prey. Her hair was brown, and messy, and her face was kind, but somewhat pretty. Her breasts were extraordinarily large for someone in her grade, and heaved and bounced with every step she took. But she wore a furious expression so often that more people found her absolutely terrifying than cute or charming. Which is exactly how she liked it. She was certainly a person who liked being feared more than being loved or admired. Normally, she should have been in college by now, but she was held back enough times that she was frozen in the position of senior.
On this day, she was searching the hallway
Company of Friends- Sam and Dean x ReaderWhen I die, let them judge me by my company of friendsCompany of Friends- Sam and Dean x Reader2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Let them know me as the footprints that I left upon the sand
Let them laugh for all the laughter
Let them cry for laughter’s end
But when I die, let them judge me by my company of friends
The Impala rushed down the road, eager to be far away from the terrible reality. A silence settled over the car like it rarely did- no music blaring from its speakers as Dean put all his focus on the road with a death grip on the wheel and Sam looked out the passenger window with a clenched jaw. In the air that rushed by, Dean swore he heard your laugh the one filled with squealed joy and ground his teeth as he fought back the tears pressing at his eyes.
That laugh was gone and had taken with it the soft melodic giggles and the teasingly purred chuckles.
All of it was gone.
Sam suddenly let out a soft sad chuckle, the noise laced with nostalgia, and Dean responded with a low warning growl,
Reader x Trickster!Nepeta: Egg Coloring"EY YO BITCHIE-"Reader x Trickster!Nepeta: Egg Coloring17 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Oh my god she's still alive are you kidding me?"
Your name is ___ ___ and your... matesprit, Nepeta Leijon, Tac as you call her, is frantically pounding on your door.
"BITCHIE LEMME IN I REALLY NEED TO MAKE PLANS WITH MEW AND YOUR CUTE BUTT."
"Do we have to?" you groaned. You were literally laying on the floor of your cute little one-story apartment. Your Siamese cat, Simi, licked your nose. Simi was fond of the troll and in return, the troll was fond of Simi.
"Uh. Well not really but I'd sure as hell purrefur mew did." you heard her make a face. "And befur mew ask, no I didn't kill anyone this time. Da po-po let me furreeeeee~" the Trickster chirped.
"Fine." you simply said, wiggling over to the door and sitting up, staring at the oversized wood plank. "What's the password?"
"THERE'S A PASSWORD?!"
You stifled a laugh, merely smirking and standing up, stepping back to dodge the olive blood's attempted tackle-pounce as you opened the door. "Hello t