Perfect DayPerfect Day5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Using for own amusement. Making no profit. No © infringement intended.
Warning: Yaoi pairing, fluff overload
Pairing: Zack X Angeal
Setting: Crisis Core ??
Summary: Muffins: Zack is not the tidiest baker.
Type: One-shot ficlet request
"Wake up, pup," Angeal cooed softly leaning over Zack as he petted tousled hair, "I've made you breakfast."
Zack opened his sleepy eyes to gaze up adoringly at his mentor. "Chocolate spread on toast?" he mumbled hopefully.
"Not quite," replied Angeal, "Pancakes, but you can have them with chocolate spread if you want." He smiled down at Zack's suddenly bright face and large, puppy-like eyes. "I thought you'd be pleased," he chuckled.
Zack nodded vigorously and bounced out of bed and into the kitchen with almost childish glee. He stopped, however, when he saw what Angeal had done: the small table was
We're band geeksWere band geeks, we know it. We spent our summer in band camp which meantWe're band geeks7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
running around the high school and considered it fun. We spent the hours on the
field marching back and forth, and even longer on playing our instruments. Then at
the end of the day we would complain on how our feet and arms and anything
else hurt, but then would get up and do it all again. When school began we all
tried to stick together, being new to this grand school, and in the morning we
would hang out in the band hallway which we had come to refer to as home.
Weekdays spent on practice and homework, Friday nights spent on football
games. Saturday was our game day; we practice like it was band camp, and then
rode on a bus for hours to our competition. And we were all excited about
marching on the field, no matter where it was or how famous it was, we were
happy. Then we would arrive home in the early hours in the morning to go home
and sleep all day Sunday just to repeat the cycle Monday. B
A Taste of Marching BandImagine yourself in a constricting, uncomfortable uniform. The shoes pinch your toes just a little. The pants are itchy. The jacket doesn't allow much movement, and the collar keeps your neck straight. The hat makes you sweat, and the chin strap is chokingly tight. You are in the band. You play an instrument. You've memorized four songs for the half time show. You've memorized numerous charts of where to move on the field. You hold your instrument in the attention position, standing straight and tall, not moving.A Taste of Marching Band9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Now imagine you are standing on the track surrounding the football field. You are in lines, waiting for the whistle to let you start marching onto the field. You look up into the stands and see over 2,000 people in the stands. They're all watching you, waiting for you to start the show. The drum major blows the whistle and you march onto the field. You roll your feet, making sure the top half of your body isn't moving but gliding to your spot. You stop and wait again. The drum
You Might Be a Band Geek If......you consider the term "band geek" a compliment, and often refer to yourself as one.You Might Be a Band Geek If...7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
...you answer to "Hey you band geek," "Hey you band nerd," and "Hey you band dork."
...you yell at the loading crew if they put something on the band truck wrong.
...you are always at the band truck making sure the loading crew doesn't kill anything.
And you aren't on loading crew.
...you can be hot, sweaty, and tired and you don't care.
...you incorporate random tags into the Go Mighty ______ song. Like Power Rangers.
...you dance to stand tunes. All the time.
...you think artists like The Offspring and AC/DC have good stand tune songs.
...you KNOW artists like The Offspring and AC/DC have good stand tune songs.
...you sing as loud as you play. And you sing well.
...you play louder than the opposing band that is twice your size. And it sounds good.
...you sing louder than the opposing band that is twice your size sings. And maybe
The BirthThe Birth4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"It's a girl!" the obstetrician said, holding the small, bloody infant up.
Cloud gasped in relief, tears of pain still running down his cheeks. Sephiroth was staring at the small creature the doctor was gently drying off and wrapping in a blanket. That was that was his child? He'd been expecting it, looking forward to it for so long he honestly did not know how to feel now that he saw it for the first time. His child. His baby. Surely he was supposed to find it overwhelming and beautiful, not a little bit unsettling and strange-looking.
"Oh, wow, she's got so much hair!" one of the nurses cooed. She took the swaddled baby and handed it to Sephiroth, "Congratulations!"
Sephiroth took the baby automatically, looking down at it with a mixture of feelings that he still wasn't sure how he felt about. The newborn blinked unfocused blue eyes at him. Blue, slit-pupil'd eyes.
She had his eyes. Oh, they were Cloud's in color, but other than that bright blue, they were exactly l
Twatitus- Condition or Idiocy?Twatitus is a common mental condition suffered by almost all men at some point in their lives, or in a very tragic case, their entire lives.Twatitus- Condition or Idiocy?7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
To somebody who is unfamililar with the condition, Twatitus is generally the concept of a man doing something stupid.
However, when you become more experienced with the condition (aka, you get screwed over almost as much as I do) you will come to discover that there are many different cases of Twatitus.
Here are the most recognised cases, specific problems will often be a mixture of types.
Twatitus [Type A]
The most frequent type that occurs in men, is Twatitus A.
Twatitus A will often cause a man to "check out" other women in an inappropriate situation.
E.g. Staring at another woman's breasts whilst out with a girlfriend.
While this is the least severe case of Twatitus, it can sometimes lead to problems in a relationship if not dealt with quickly.
Twatitus [Type B]
Twatitus Type B is also one of the more common types, but is less fr
writing on the walli am your mother before she knew you, before you intruded upon her womb and painted bloodied messages on her gummy walls and let your foot imprint itself inside her pinking skin and left all your sunrises behind and tried to peer from outside her skin to see where the air might touch and turn and make you.writing on the wall7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
(she misses you, you know. you should visit her more often.)
i am your mother before she met your father, in a can on the street inside a restaurant around the corner all her life for the first time, and she rubbed her fingers against her eyes trying to muster some form of strangled black tears but all that was left were little red marks identifying exactly where the fingers hit and almost broke through, and she keeps a straight face all the way till the end; hers.
(when she talks, she strokes the white roses you promised to give her. i never
know quite what to tell her, so i tell her, "soon, i
Room 307Eisoptrophobia - Fear of mirrors or seeing one's own reflectionRoom 3077 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I sat there on the bed, my legs pulled close to my chest, head resting on my knees. It was the only way I could make myself comfortable in that impossibly uncomfortable room. How could anyone be comfortable in a room with blank, white walls, one window with drab white blinds, and stark white sheets on a stiff mattress. A stiff mattress on a cot. I didn't know how it could really be considered a bed. And who could forget the sterile, white tiles beneath the legs of the cot.
Room 307; my living Hell.
Whoever was the cruel soul who decided it would be a good idea to look me in this room needed to spend a week or two in it themselves. I would have been perfectly fine outside of that room. I would have survived out there. It would have been hard, but I would have. Then they decided to lock me up.
"The 300 wing is for our... special cases," I heard someone say on the other side of the locked door. A doctor or someone must
An Avatar Without Bending...An Avatar Without Bending...4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Benders aren't any better than us normal folk," the man said, spitting derisively at Korra's feet. She clenched her hands into fists.
"I know that," she said through locked teeth. She took a deep breath, then tried to settle her first ever Avatar dispute. "Benders and non-benders are a source of balance for the world. The spirituality um it does stuff. I suppose."
The crowd laughed in her face, and Tenzin sighed heavily.
"Okay, I could have done better," she snapped at him. "Look, I'm trying my best, alright?"
"Come back when you got a handle on that, honey," the man said, and they all laughed.
Korra turned on him and fell into her favorite waterbending stance. The crowd took a collective step back, and Korra gave the daring man a hard smile.
"Come on, if you're so tough," she sneered.
"Korra," Tenzin snapped. "Stop this."
"Trying," she replied, not taking her eyes off her new opponent. He hesitated, then shrugged.
"What's the use?" he asked. "You're going to freeze
childishour city has been found once again.childish6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
not by others of our kind,
whatever kind we are,
but by the beasts of day
that took away our world.
in fear, i had myself shrouded
by the town halls' shadow.
nothing could be described
as silent or peaceful.
it was tragic, to say the least.
shredded building pieces were
sprawled across the asphalt.
all the people were screaming,
crying out to God to save them.
but no one had enough faith in Him
to just stand still and look for miracles.
instead, they ran from their fears,
which were now turning their work,
their hopes, their dreams for their city
into the very ruins they ran from before.
a frenzy of fire burned up the sky,
leaving ash to rain upon the people.
so little it was, but effective
when it came to starting panic.
and what was the only thing
that i could do at the time?
i just sat there, holding close my son.
his world at such a tender age,
gone, destroyed with ash.
creaking flooded my ears,
and instinct kicked in.
as the shadow fell upon us,
StormStormStorm4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
This story now lives here. See my FIMFiction Account for everything.
Pinkie Pie picked up the upper half of what had been the giant cupcake on top of Sugar Cube Corner. Small tears half-formed in her eyes. The bakery had been a fixture in her life ever since she came to Ponyville. Its destruction hurt. Her gazed drifted up towards the plot of land the bakery had stood on. Only the foundation remained. She sighed before she caught herself.
"Pinkie," she said, "You cannot afford to sigh. How will you keep everypony's spirits up if you are down in the dumpy-wumpies?" She smiled. It was a smile only on the outside, but that would be enough. She could shed her tears in private later; for now, there was work to do.
The wind was howling. It sounded like a thousand angry spirits venting rage against the world.
Twilight could barely make out the sound of Applejack shouting
welcome back to kansas"Before you kill yourself," I say, not unkindly, "I want you to tell me what your mother's favorite flowers are, so I'll know what to send her afterwards."welcome back to kansas7 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
I wish I could help you, kid.
I mean it.
You tell me you love me while you are sobbing. The phone skips in connection when the thunder roars hungry and I nearly miss the end of "you." I am biting my nails and the rain outside begs for me to come out, asking for a retreat from this pavement and these cupped hands.
I feel like a burden on your white carpet. It molds like hot iron to my feet and I resist the urge to tell you that I'm stuck, stuck, so terribly stuck. You look at me apologetically and miserably and you begin to cry and I have to shut my eyes and let the world stop.
"Roses," you mutter, and it is silver and shaky in your hands, with a circle mouth and black air for eyes. "My mother's favorite flowers are roses."
You load and cock it.
I watch you aim.
The Old Man and the Manx Im going to the ruined temple to find my daughter, Manx, said the old man.The Old Man and the Manx7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It had been a chance meeting between the two. The Manx had loped over a rocky outcropping on the veldt just as the weathered old man had sat down in its shade, preparing to camp for the rapidly descending night. They had stood face to face for many long moments before the old man spoke, and now the two regarded each other with a strange mix of curiosity and suspicion.
The Manx was about the size and shape of a large, tailless dog, with patchy, straw-coloured fur that was speckled around his face and feet with the frosty white of age. His legs were long and ungainly, and their joints were knobby from years of malnourishment. At one time, the Manx had obviously had beautiful tattoos of dancing flames branded into the flesh on his sides and shoulders. Now, however, they simply hung like sad ribbons on his gau
divine interventionthere was a boy who commited suicide.divine intervention6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
he had put a gun in his mouth, tears flowing down his cheeks, while he whispered a last, desperate prayer to a god who was screaming for him not to do it but couldn't be heard, and pulled the trigger.
at the boy's funeral, all of his family and friends cried, questioning god, demanding to know why he had taken the boy from them, but god had as many answers as they did. he felt like an innocent man, who was getting all the blame thrust onto his shoulders by the real culprit.
when it was time for them to throw their roses into the open grave, a priest stood at the head of it, waiting for everyone to be seated again so that he could say a few words.
god knew the priest would say things about the boy that weren't true, like that he'd had ambitions, or that he'd cared about everyone, when really he'd spent his entire life wanting to die.
but that isn't what you say about someone at their funeral. you make them sound like they wanted to live, or that the
Future Secrets No pony could remember a time when it had rained so hard.Future Secrets4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
This storm is the perfect cover.
Rain poured down the back of the purple unicorn as she slinked around the rear of the magic shop. She peered in through a single foggy window. The inside of the shop was cloaked by shadow.
She must have closed down because of the storm. Excellent.
The unicorn's horn glowed with magic and the window slid up slowly. She glanced around cautiously and then proceeded to lift herself carefully though the window.
The room smelled of dusty arcane tomes. Above, the rain on the roof sounded like the drumming of hoofbeats.
It's here in the storage room somewhere. I know it.
The unicorn looked through a nearby stack of books. Her horn provided a faint, glowing light. One of the books caught her eye
Through Simple EyesThrough Simple Eyes4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hello! How was your day?
You know, it's just plain rude to not answer when someone says hello.
Let's try this again, my sister, Applejack, decided she needed to keep my hooves occupied while she went around Applebucking. Now, she's a right good filly, but really, I'm no writing man. She was jus being sweet, you know? Anyhoo, the girl decided that I should take up writing a journal of what I do while she's not around, so that I don't feel quite as useless.
Whole lotta hooey if you ask me.
Course you didn't ask. Anyway this here journal's 'sposed to be some kinda therapy thing. I'm no rocket physician, but I hardly see how this any a this is gonna do squat for my busted back.
I don't even know how I'd even start writin' this thing, you know? So I asked Applejack when she gave it to me,
"What do I do with this?"
An' she said, "Ya right in it, Mac!"
So I look at her an' said, "I don't know jack squat about writin' a diary, how would I start?"
"Jus write like you're talkin
Are You my Mother?Are You my Mother?Are You my Mother?8 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
Jenova sat by the bed.
The sheets moved.
Oh oh! said Jenova. My baby is waking up! He will want to eat.
I must get something for my baby to eat! she said. I will be back!
So away she went.
The sheets moved. They moved and shuffled and yawned!
Out came Kadaj!
Where is my mother? he said.
He looked for her.
He looked up. He did not see her.
He looked down. He did not see her.
I will go and look for her, he said.
So away he went.
Out of the house he went.
Out out out! It was a long way to walk.
Kadaj could not fly. ((x3 lol))
He could not fly but he could walk. Now I will go and find my mother, he said.
He did not know what his mother looked like. He went right by her. He did not see her.
He went to Yazoo. Are you my Mother? he said to Yazoo.
Yazoo just looked and blinked at him and kept on polishing his gun. He did not say a thing.
Yazoo was not his mother so he
The Special Letter(check out the pdf version - it's at least 20% cooler. http://wardenscat.foxserver.be/derpy.pdf )The Special Letter4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Special Letter
The Canterlot mail-pony was galloping swiftly though the Everfree Forest.
His left saddlebag was filled with letters from all over Equestria,
addressed to ponies in Ponyville. There wasn't a particularly large
bunch this day, which was why it all fitted in only one bag. This was
good, because in the right bag was a special delivery. Though its
destination wasn't in Ponyville, there was only one mailpony able to
make its delivery, and she was.
As the Canterlot pony arrived at the Ponyville mail hub, Derpy got down
from the ceiling onto the floor. She followed the pony as she knew he
had the last of the incoming mail.
``Here's today's lot.'' He said to the head mailmare as he dropped his
left saddlebag on the table, ``And,'' he continued as he reached for
the special letter ``here's another `royal' delivery.''
``Ah, yes. Another one? Oh well, I'm sure
PardonPardon6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
I smile wistfully as I look up at the stars, shaking my head at the sudden pang in my chest.
It used to be that I'd look down on Earth, or soar through the sky, fly through the clouds, hearing nothing and feeling only peace.
These days, even if I'm outside Acedia or isolating myself in the mountains, I never get any.
When I'm awake, there is so much to do. I juggle it all. It keeps me sane.
Nightmares haunt my sleep. Nightmares of things that were then. Of things that are now. Of things that are yet to come.
Too many sinners, too little time. No rest for an old demon.
Even in sleep my brain keeps going like a well-oiled machine. It is wearying. It makes me want to curse the heavens for their tight-ass extremist ways.
But I brought this upon myself. I turned my back on heaven when I chose to save Stan.
Ramiel. My lips twitch in an ironic smile.
How long has it been since he has changed his name? How long has it been since we both did?
something for sticks + stonesWhen he wakes up out of his coma, the doctor comes out and stands before me.something for sticks + stones7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The doctor, a serious man with serious eyes, looks at me and the grayness of his body overtakes my vision: his graying skin, his whitened hair, his bleached teeth and his lost eyes. "He's woken up," he says, and he nods at me, inching to the left and extending his arm out to show me the way inside.
"Me?" I whisper.
I am craving alcohol. My veins scream the need for caffeine. I smell like old cherry sodas and fresh smoke. I cannot quite remember the shape of his face or what the past two weeks of my life have been like.
God, I think, I could really use some relief.
I walk inside.
Twilight EssayTwilight is not as important as you think it is.Twilight Essay6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
You know, I could say that and be done with this rant right now. However, its me and well, I actually like to prove my point. I have facts, unlike most who only rant about nonesense. Lets talk about the major problems: Mary Sueness, Cliches, and Grammatical Errors.
Bella is a Mary Sue
No shes not!! Youre wrong!! Youre just jealous cause you arent pretty like her!!11!!!one
Hmm you know, that might work if I didnt know what else to say or have anything to back me up. Lets just see what the dictionary has to say, shall we? (Please note though that the definition of a Mary Sue does vary and has become "muddied".)
A Mary Sue (sometimes just Sue), in literary criticism and particularly in fanfiction, is a fictional character with overly idealized and hackneyed mannerisms, lacking noteworthy flaws, and primarily functioning as wish-fulfillment fantasies for thei
Attendance is MandatoryIt is a feeling you cannot quite understand. It is so contradictory. You feel as though you could drop from exhaustion at any moment, but you also have never felt better. You are terrified to no end, but youre filled with a sense of bravery and pride. You feel lost, but you know exactly where you are. You feel like there is something you need to find, but you know where it is.Attendance is Mandatory7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The location has slipped your mind at the moment, just as most of your other memories have as well. In that moment, all that exists is what is.
It is raining. You are standing on a city sidewalk. There are cars speeding past you on the street. You are wearing a black dress, as made evident by your reflection in the store window.
You think back, trying to remember putting the dress on, but you come up short. You remember the dress and all its details, but not why you are wearing it. It is a black dress, one you had yet to grow out of. It was a simple dress until you reconst
Not How It Should've Been Pt.2Not How It Should've Been Pt.25 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Many weeks have passed since the fall of the Berlin Wall, during which Germany had been taking full care of his brother. Prussia had shown much resilience and stayed as chipper as he could in order to keep hopes high for the two of them. Germany was at Prussia's bedside every moment unless he was getting something of aid or taking care of his own human needs.
One day, Germany came back to Prussia's room with a new box of tissues when Prussia took notice of his weakening figure. He could see sweat gleaming off his skin, his face flushed with tired eyes. Prussia's eyes widened as he recognized the symptoms that he had experienced himself in the early stages of his illness. He hesitated in speaking out at first because of his own selfish desires of having Germany tend to his every whim; but in the end, he could not let his kind-hearted brother put himself through this.
"Hey...West..." Prussia called out from his bed, feeling the utmost of peculiar emotions. It was like how he had felt whe