Simonette : Datelized Chapter 3-All I Need Is You.Simonette : Datelized Chapter 3-All I Need Is You.4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
While Jeanette was taking Simon back to the room, Dave was dressing up quickly.
"Guys, I need your help. Simon is injured badly." said Dave.
"WHAT? You gotta be kidding me!" said Alvin.
"I'm serious, Alvin. Jeanette called me recently, she said that she needs help." said Dave.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go! I hope my brother is okay!" said Alvin.
So, Dave took all of them to the park. Meanwhile, Simon was still injured but luckily, he can speak softly.
"J-Jeanette? Is t-that you? Ouch, my body hurts!" said Simon, mumbling.
"Simon I'm so glad that you're okay! Don't move a muscle, Simon." said Jeanette, gasping.
"So what was the truth you're sa-" mumbled Simon, then he fainted.
"Simon!" yelled Jeanette.
I hope he's okay! Oh lord, please help him! Please! I'm begging you!" whispered Jeanette.
Dave an the munks arrivedm rushing to their room, as soon as possible.
"We're here! Oh my god! I'm calling 911!" said Dave.
"Simon! Jeanette! What have you don
Simonette : Datelized Chapter 2-First DateBefore Simon and Jeanette went out to have a date, Simon asked Alvin about dating while Jeanette was asking Brittany the same, dating.Simonette : Datelized Chapter 2-First Date4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Umm..Alvin, I need your help." said Simon.
"I know. It's about dating, right?" said Alvin.
"How did you know?" Simon asked Alvin.
"Yesterday, you and Jeanette were playing chess. I heard that Jeanette was asking you to date or not." said Alvin.
"So, any ideas about dating, Mr.Awesome Alvin?" Simon asked Alvin.
"Well, just imagine that date is like hanging out with someone." said Alvin.
"That's all?" said Simon.
"Yeah, I guess." said Alvin.
As Simon gets ready to dress up, Jeanette and Brittany were talking about dating.
"C'mon Britt, you don't want your sister to be sad, depressed, don't you?" said Jeanette.
"I'm thinking." said Brittany, thinking.
"Aah, here's one. Just think that dating is like hanging out with someone. Also, while your dating, talk about things like hi favorite band, or something." said Brittany.
"Got it! Any more idea
Star Crossed Lovers(chp.1)Star Crossed Lovers(chp.1)4 years ago in Romance More Like This
It was a cold winter night and the moon was casting its light over a small forest on the outskirts of a town and just out of site near the top of a tree sat a rather large tree house.And on the porch laid a chipmunk boy in a tattered hoodie and jeans,and he was just staring up at the starry night sky.When he saw two shooting stars cross paths with each other,and a smile crept across his face as he remembered the words that someone once told him.He quickly lost the smile he had only moments ago and it was replaced with sadness and regret he wiped his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears from poring from his eyes.As if in sync with his emotions storm clouds began to gather and pour down rain,and the young chipmunk took refuge inside the tree house.
The interior of the tree house was rather simple it only had a simple twin size bed,a shelf with a small radio,a window,and hung on the wall was a picture of the young chipmunk standing next to and holding hands wi
Simon Hot Tub StorySimon took off his hoodie and laid it aside, then slowly slipped his body down into the warm water of the hot tub. He let out a long sigh, relaxing as he sank further into the nice hot water. It felt good on his fur, and he was more than content to sit there, taking in the refreshing warmth that spread from the bottom of his feet to the tip of his tail.Simon Hot Tub Story4 years ago in Romance More Like This
The concert tour had brought them to a secluded little ski lodge, up in the mountains somewhere, far away from the ravenous crowds and the omnipresent paparazzi. He really didn't mind all of the attention, none of them did, Alvin least of all. But Dave had said that sometimes it's necessary just to get away from it all for a little while in order to rest up and recharge, and Simon couldn't agree more. So when Alvin and Theodore decided to go play in the snow outside the lodge, Simon decided it was the perfect opportunity for a little alone time.
And what bett
BTC - Titanic 1997 film reviewBTC - Titanic 1997 film review3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Burning Through Celluloid Reviews
Told from the perspective of an elderly woman named Rose Calvert (the late Gloria Stuart) as she describes how many years ago, she was Rose DeWitt Bukater (Kate Winslet), engaged to the arrogant heir of a steel factory Caledon Nathan Hockley (Billy Zane) and feels suffocated by her lack of choice in her life with being forced to uphold her high-class status while onboard a transport ship heading to America. Her life is forever changed when she meets a penniless artist named Jack Dawson (Leonardo DiCaprio) who manages to get her to break free of her bonds as they shortly fall deeply in love with each other. But, as we already know before this movie even started, the ship they are on is the doomed RMS Titanic as it hits an iceberg and, inevitably, sinks .
and so do we the audience, sinking into our chairs with the ungodly length of this film 3 f*cking hours geez Cameron, at least "Avatar" was 30 minutes shorter in comparison to t
Meet Me In The Pouring Rain It was just another typical night at the Seville household. Dave was still at a meeting for work. Alvin was just sitting in the living room playing video games. Theodore was cooking dinner. Nothing exciting. In the basement were two chipmunks working hard at a science project for class. These two studious munks never seemed to get distracted by anything when working. Tonight, Simon couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She was wearing skinny blue jeans that showed off her perfect hips. A purple v-neck long sleeved shirt and black flats went along with this. Half of her hair was pulled out of her face while the rest was hanging loosely around her beautiful face with slight makeup on it. Who can forget those cute, purple glasses of hers? She was just perfect. He has been catching himself staring at her like this a lot lately, but he just couldn't help himself. There has been a feeling he has been getting since they started high school. Now being juniors, he felt that he should dMeet Me In The Pouring Rain4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Cracked Jars of Sunshine - Part ICracked Jars of Sunshine - Part I4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Everything had a price.
She wasn't sure when she first realized this. When the bitter thought had slipped itself into the back of her head as a carefully guided needle to helpless little balloon. It may have been when she was old enough to wobble unsteadily on her own bare feet. Back then, her and her mother had been on some remote planetshe couldn't even remember why or the name of itonly that her mother worked hard. Worked honestly. There were other twi'leks with them and she played often in warm sun and the fresh tilled earth worked by her mother and many others. There was planting. There was singing. There was laughter. Half-formed memories of childhood they were; things that during her darkest hours she would reach out with her minds eye and cradle them to her for comfort.
In the beginning, her mother smiled and laughed too. She could almost remember the way her mothers eyes would crinkle when she did. She remembered her mothers stories of her home pl
On ShakespeareOn Shakespeare3 years ago in Historical More Like This
Like most artists, I think that Shakespeare was something of a paradox. A collection of paradoxes, if you like. And I think that one of his paradoxes was this: He recognised his own power as a dramatist, and yet he accounted his plays to be things of little lasting value.
This is not to say that he disliked the theatre. On the contrary, I think that he loved both it and the fellowship that it brought him. After all, the plays are as much about the theatre as they are about anything else. But I think that in his heart of hearts, he regarded poetry as being the technically more demanding, and artistically higher, form. And I think that it was through his poetry, rather than his plays, that he entertained some hopes of being remembered.
I think that he felt, quite keenly, that had he not been required by necessity to earn a living - that had he been born an aristocrat - then he would have concentrated solely upon poetry, and not written the plays at all.
This would have been broadly comme
Blind PanicIt begins,Blind Panic6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With a sense of unease
Are not quite,
Not like they should be
Blind panic is swelling,
And my soul is telling,
I begin shaking,
I feel the fear breaking
Unable to hide,
I am hearing,
Things that aren't,
That feels like,
A bad dream
Sweat is pouring,
Nails are scoring,
Harsh lines in the table,
In front of me
Knees are bracing,
My lips are tasting,
jlp May 13, 2009
A Panic AttackBreathing,A Panic Attack7 years ago in Other More Like This
NaNoWriMo Text Prompts 81.) He always grew misty eyed when he heard the bagpipes, it reminded him of her, of the stories she would tell of her home and the endless green hills. It didn't hit him until he put his hand down on her head stone, his wrinkled and age spotted hands pale against granite--that he was hearing them in a graveyard. Sharply, he jerked his head upward to the rolling fog creeping in.NaNoWriMo Text Prompts 84 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
2.) You know...when you were Queen of the Dead it was really damn hard to get a prom date.
3.) They all gaped at the knight as he emerged from the gigantic cave unscathed, unmarked and un-burnt with his encounter of the dragon. Behind him, tongue rolling out happily and each step causing the ground to tremor came the dragon: faithful as a dog. Jaws gaping and eyes wide, they crowded around him and begged him the secret of how he tamed it. He laughed and smiled charmingly, telling them even a Knight needed his secrets.
Later that night as he lay on his pillow, his wife's arms around him and nearly drifting aslee
Real Grill Glove | Reader x DaveReal Grill Glove | Reader x Dave1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
A/N: Warning, cursing and a silly crack-fiction is ahead! \(•◡•)/"Are you fed up with using primitive instruments to properly grill decomposing body parts?"
The sun shone brightly above as a gentle breeze tickled your skin.
You sat at a large wooden picknick table with Dave Strider standing before you laying meat on the hot, sizzling grill.
On his left hand was a large red colored glove. With his hand he carefully place meat on the grill, as he done so he continued to advertise his cooking utensil.
"Dave Sullivan here, and this bitch is the grill glove."
Ever since you've agreed to go on an outing with a male, you never suspected such a funny twist.
Each time he'd display his glove as if it was a well earned trophy, you'd snicker to your self and giggle.
"If you've ever wanted to put your entire hand in a nipple, this is the product for you." Dave stated in a monotone voice.
You laughed once more, almost tearing up from your own amuseme
Because of You"Are you all right?" He asked, I could hear the worry. "Do you need anything?" I didn't need to open my eyes to know that he was probably standing there, brows wrinkling suddenly and a small frown of concern.Because of You4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"M-hmmm", I answered the first. "M-m," I hummed for the second, shaking my head. I could smell themthey were bright, sunshine, daisies of love and leaves of laughter. In comparison to the no-smell of hospital sheets, the chill of sterilized things, they stood out in the room like fire in the rain.
"I brought you"
"Flowers," I said, opening my eyes. Now a days, I can see shapes sometimes. If I tip my head up and a bit to the right. If I look at things askance, I can still pick out shapes. I can't see his face anymore but I know his shape. It's imprinted in the bed of my mind and in my heart. And even though I can't see his face, I remember the way his eyes glitter-glowed with a smile at seeing me.
"How did you know?" He seemed mor
How To Be Lonelyi.How To Be Lonely5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first step to acceptance is to be like others. Like a flower, almost, in your pleated skirt and saddle shoes, starched white blouse radiant, you stand in the coat room of Mrs.Lund's first grade classroom and wish you had worn something, anything, different. Afraid to venture in to the snarling maw of children that would encompass you and swallow you whole, you stand shivering in the musky stench of rain boots and plaid coats until the teacher, fed up, steers you by the arm to the office and insists to speak with the principal. You know he'll phone your mother, but for some reason you don't care as you gaze in to the sticky circular patterns in the wallpaper and glance at the stack of manila envelopes on the secretaries desk that she meticulously sifts through while humming underneath her breath. She doesn't look at you. You're blending in.
You lose your virginity in a coat room, soggy from an afternoon shower, fumbling with his zipper though your hands are numb from the cold
what humans do0:00what humans do4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she met him when she was fifteen, stupid, and willing to do anything to get out of her own head. it was winter, new snow sticking to the ground in snowbanks - like a naked blanket, cold on cold with ice. houses were lined up on the streets, chimneys blaring smoke, colors sticking out against the sky's dull grays. cars rolled by, marking the streets all with the same, parallel tracks, like fingerprints with chains attached. thick exhaust fills her senses.
he seemed weird to her. not because of his cocky, laid-back appearance, but because of the complete fresh and virgin ardor he gave her. it wasn't that kind of sense you get when you're born - the average, cliche smell, taste, touch, sight - but when you pass the age of twelve or thirteen.
he was the untouchable, the near-unforgivable. the sweet fruit to adolescence. the thing you taste when you want something new - lips on lips, tongues tying, tugging on piercings - the umph to the skinny jeans, the belt loops
i'm never careful enoughThe roads here wind in ways that I don't expect.i'm never careful enough4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes, I think that dashed yellow line is the only thing that keeps me moving the right way. That keeps me going. Because one wrong move could send me barreling off the highway and the freefall feeling that would come next is not something I'm unfamiliar with. It's the same thing that happens every time I think of you. I can't get over how much this place reminds me of you. I can't get over how little room there is between full-fledged fear and being in love.
Sometimes, I think maybe they're the same thing.
I don't know what keeps bringing me back here. But I find myself coming here more and more when I can't sleep. When I can't stop thinking about you. I drive the same familiar routes. Thinking the same familiar thoughts. Going to the same familiar places. I keep retracing the paths we used to take, thinking that if I follow them back far enough, I'll figure out where we went wrong. The absence of you is familiar. Almost comforting.
i'm too sick to lovedon't let me goi'm too sick to love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if you don't know
what to do without me;
if you can't
sleep at night
because you wonder
whose arms i'm in,
and break bones every time
they're not yours:
it means you should
hold on to me.
it seems like
i might just jump
but i always come back to you.
i'm sorry that i'm so stuck.
love is when you answer my call,
to hear your voice
a thousand miles away.
i'm sorry we aren't
i'm sorry i'm
for you to
I broke her at noonI broke her at noon.I broke her at noon5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was one of those fall days where it's still warm, but the smell of autumn tingles your brain as it seeps in your nose unseen. Her apartment on Hollywood Boulevard could be mine if I wanted it, but it all seemed to be too much for too little: a tight space for a big name. And while I'd had fun with the game, it was over.
We'd played for months. She would never call me back, and then when all seemed lost she would call in the frantic need to talk to me. To talk to me about them. And that's what I swam in when she pulled me into her pool of porcelain ghosts of men who I knew nothing about; I swam in their clinky, creepy aftermath. She was in pieces, and I was dancing between the delicacy of these easily shattered icons she erected in her memory of them.
Last night, when she called, I would not come.
Later last night, when she called, I would not come.
After midnight, when she called beggi
quite a pairwe died once.quite a pair5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
do you remember?
she must have bled lead,
we decided. she should have
never been allowed to drive
anything more than a golf-
cart. but we let her, time
and time again.
he smiled, and i fell again.
it just took one smile from her
and he was gone, yesterday's
early morning mist stood not
a chance against the morning's
could you tell me how to disappear completely,
i can't seem to do it on my own.
everything becomes too bright for me
to see clearly, sensory overload moving
at a snail's pace. a mass of color,
people who have their own flavors of existence
and no guarantee on how far they will go.
i tried to write for myself today,
but i kept thinking of all the words
i never spoke when i had the chance.
but i always seem to have another chance
without the right words to describe.
it's one forty-five and i don't know
what i'm going to do now 'cause
you're a thorn in my side
causing a pleasant pain i never
want to be without.
Nature.Nature is seclusion, nature is my home.Nature.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A peaceful home, away from the city sounds, far away from the dc politics and freak-show harlots.
Is nature death? What is death? Is it bad? evil? No. It's a long dark sleep, it's blind and deaf and mystery surrounds it. So is nature death? Possibly.
Peace, peace is the ultimately reason for death, it's also the reason to be around complete nature. But why death? Because death is dark, when I think of nature I think of dark green, I think of being alone.
Darkness surrounds me, all alone I wait for my reincarnation. I observe life creation within nature, I feel the life creation within death.
It is not sad or agnsty, it is what it is... And I love it. Death is not to be feared, but you must also remain wary of it. Same with nature, nature should not be feared but in nature lurks evil.
Color me green, all these things unforeseen. Follow me free, can't see, what I'll never be. Just be, just me, just free.
InsomniaYou can't sleep.Insomnia5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Of course, you could sleep if you wanted to, but why would you want to? You're beginning to have nightmares again, but these nightmares are worse than the ones before, they're worse than any nightmares that you have ever had. They could even be considered night terrors except they are more atrocious than any child's, and when you wake up in the morning you always remember every single thing. Every last detail you remember, down to the last hair being out of place. They're too real, and when you wake up it takes you a few minutes to realize that your in your bed, not in your own personal hell.
The nightmares aren't about things that go bump in the night. No, they are worse than that. In these nightmares you watch all of your friends die in bloody, evil, ways and there is nothing you can do to stop it from happening. In your dreams you don't have powers, and you can't save anybody. They are all different, but always same in the most important of ways. You aren't able to
When It's Over& it broke my heartWhen It's Over5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so I put that jar
back on the shelf
the one that used to
hold the years between
the winter of year six
& my grandmother
killing a butterfly
for me to keepsake.
& it broke my heart
so I put you
back on the shelf
your voice sounds so
I always thought it was mine.
the bitter taste
of someone who
will never be like you
& I really don't
want them to be
you are the one place,
the one tack on the map
that never stayed the same
but never strayed.
& you broke my heart
so I put myself
on the shelf.
turned out the lights.
A memory of Sun - Part IIA memory of Sun - Part II4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Her mother had been beautiful once. Before the drugs had taken her to a place where sense nor sanity no longer lived. Before Javoran snake-bellied into her life to flicker-whisper lies and use the back of his knuckles to speakpinpricks of his fingers blushed darker cerulean in her mother's skin often. Jahnya often thought that the color of her mother's bruised skin is what the sky might look like if it was cruelly crushed. Part of her mother's beauty, she had always thought, was the traditional head piece that she'd worn before Javoran bought her something new. Something gaudy and studded with fake stones, something flashy and as fake as the life he'd given Jahnya's mother.
The head piece had a thick band of ancient brown hide. Edged in metal that Jahnya imagined the hands of many women of her clan had once touchedstaining it bronze-gold with their fingerprints--a simplistic, elegant center piece of metal rested on the brow. A circle in the middle with two column