Poradnik - jak napisac romans paranormalnyJak napisać romans paranormalnyPoradnik - jak napisac romans paranormalny2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Trafiło się nam żyć w takich czasach, że napisanie poczytnej książki tudzież bloga jest łatwiejsze niż kiedykolwiek— wystarczy być człowiekiem jako tako piśmiennym, mieć Worda i dostęp do internetów. Niestety, ta jakże piękna idea równości wobec tworzenia literatury rozbiła się o kant dupy w momencie, gdy światło dzienne ujrzał Zmierzch. Niejaka Stefa M., gospodyni domowa, matka trojga dzieci, absolutnie nienastawiona na robienie kariery, spisuje swój sen, tworząc na jego kanwie jeden z największych bestsellerów w historii literatury — może być coś bardziej motywującego? Wszak ludzie lecą na takie kopciuszkowe historie.
Jak bardzo Bellissima, Eduardo i Alpaka przemówili do rzesz czytelników można się przekonać przechadzając się po Empiku i zachodząc
Oda do PapieruPusta kartka.Oda do Papieru4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Patrzysz na tę kartkę, która leży na Twoim biurku. Zwykły kawałek papieru. Prawdopodobnie z specjalnego bloku rysunkowego dla artysty, lub z brystolu.
A może po prostu to papier używany do kserowania?
Nie ma koloru czystej bieli. Nie pada na Ciebie blask świeżego śniegu czy ekranu komputera z białym tłem.
Widzisz po prostu papier. Pełen nierówności, lekko żółty. Choć może to od żarówki.
Ale jeśli weźmiesz na dwór, w piękny słoneczny dzień, oślepia Cię nieskazitelnością. Nie masz nawet siły zerknąć na ten boski materiał. Lecz jeśli trafisz na pochmurne, smutne niebo, pochłonie Cię ponura szarość papieru. Gdy powędrujesz na łąkę, czy do lasu, zapewne wyda Ci się, że kartka śmieje się zielenią. A jeśli postanowisz naszk
Knouge: Tickle and WorshipIt was a sunny morning as Knuckles the Echidna emerged from his wooden lodge and climbed up to the stone altar of the master emerald. Glinting in the sunlight, the emerald sparkled in the warm gaze of the sun. However, Knuckles wasn't the only one gazing into the massive gem.Knouge: Tickle and Worship3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
On the other side of forest, Rouge the Bat watched with mischievous eyes as she gazed at the Master Emerald. Rouge giggled as she saw Knuckles patrolling the altar, "Hmhmhmhm my favorite echidna is guarding my emerald". Despite their fierce fights over the emerald, the young bat girl could not suppress the secret love she held for the hot tempered echidna. But now wasn't the time for fangirl crushes.
Flapping her wings in the air, Rouge flew with the bright rising sun behind her to screen her movements. As she glided through the air, being careful not to flap her wings for fear of creating noise, she came within an inch of the massive gem until she was stopped by a thick fist to her stomach.
"Nice try, bat girl",
For the Love of Stella [Audio Edition]For the Love of Stella [Audio Edition]3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
FOR THE LOVE OF STELLA: The Audio Edition
Click here to visit the blog and download the file
~ Adapted from a fan-fiction by Faith Kelter, based upon characters appearing in the Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji series by Yana Toboso.
~ RATING: T (language, some mild content)
~ RUN TIME: 1hr, 44mins
READ the story
Chapter 1 on dA
ARTWORK by Simply-Psycho
(In order of appearance)
GRELL SUTCLIFF ... Curt Rose
STELLA ... Samantha Ylagan & "Miles Sebastian"
RONALD KNOX ... Vick Valentine
ALAN HUMPHRIES ... Sukisho
ERIC SLINGBY ... Jason Marnocha
QUENTIN HOWSHAM ... Steven C. Phillips
WILLIAM T. SPEARS ... Dylan Spencer
PIERCE ... Erik Copper
KAT ... Pam Larson
LUCI ... Rina Adachi
APH FF Wizyta u PolskiCzy widzieliście kiedyś konferencję?APH FF Wizyta u Polski5 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Nie mówię tu o zwykłych konferencjach, gdzie najważniejsze osoby świata spotykają się, żeby poważnie dyskutować o sprawach w czystej teorii arcyważnych dla przyszłości pozostałych państw.
Nie mówię tu o G8 czy o Parlamencie Europejskim.
Nie mówię tu nawet o normalnych konferencjach w kraju.
Mowa tu o Konferencji Krajów.
Jedna właśnie odbywała się w Niezwykle-Tajnej-Bazie-Na-Nieznanej-Wyspie-Gdzieś-Koło-Ameryki* w wielkim budynku przypominającym bardziej Wersal niż cokolwiek innego. Sala, w której odbywała się owa "konferencja" aż kipiała od barokowych i rokokowych rzeźb, figur, obrazów, wazonów, kwiatów, krzeseł, stołu, służących i czego jeszcze dusza zapragnie. A że miała wymiary pudełka do zapałek 10000
My Guide. *pokemon creepypasta*My Guide. *pokemon creepypasta*2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Scared, tired, cold, wet, and alone. I shiver in the dark, after looking for my lost mother I found a nearby cave and ran inside to get out of the wet rain, it started up out of nowhere too.
I shiver as I try to warm up my hands by slowly breathing into them and rubbing them against each other. I am only a 8 year old girl, I don't know much about the world, I don't know much about anything. I was scared and alone, in this unknown cave far out into the region in the middle of the night surrounded by strange noises and dangerous pokemon.
After listening for over an hour now the fear started to take over me and I started to cry and panic, I try to crawl further into the cave but to no avail, I hid my eyes into my scabbed knees from falling over earlier and cried for a long while. Thats until I heard a small noise, I can't explain the noise I heard, it sounded disorented and yet...playful? Curious? Sad...maybe?
I swallowed down my fear and slowly looked up, at first
They Also Serve Who Only Stand and WaitI don't know when we first went underground. I don't even know if it was one mass exodus, a swarm of mankind trickling through the earth's crust so vehement we carved our own caverns by the force of trampling feet, or whether it was a gradual process, perhaps even a repetitive one, a family here, a neighborhood there. For all I know, the echo of the damp subterranean machine has always reverberated off the cave walls, created long past by the Angels, who think of our well-being even while they shake their heads helplessly at our flaws.They Also Serve Who Only Stand and Wait2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They say that those who remained on the surface were raptured away in a great flash of light, like a million suns converted into raw energy all at once. While it was rumored once that the flash was our doing, our own horrid creation, we all know better now. It was the Maker who brought it forth from the void and cast it onto the earth's crust, as though shot from an immense sling, taking only those who were brave enough to trust in Him. We, who live in t
WE RAN OUT OF CD SPACEYOU ARE NOW TALKING TO A RANDOM FUCKASS. SAY SOMETHING, ASSHOLE!WE RAN OUT OF CD SPACE3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
▲: WHAT IF THE WORLD WAS MADE OF OTHER WORLDS COMBINED INTO A WORLD JUST LIKE THE WORLD YOU STARTED WITH?
▼: wHaT iF yOuR tHuMb RoArEd LiKe A dINoSaUr? : o)
▲: WHAT IF ANOTHER WORLD THEN ATE THE WORLD MADE OUT OF DOUGHNUTS MAKING ALL THE DOUGHNUT PEOPLE PISSED?
▼: wHaT iF gUiTaRs CoUlD sQuIrT oUt SoUr CrEaM, aNd NaChO cHeEsE, aNd PuRe SuLfUrIc AcId?
▲: WHAT IF YOUR FACE WAS MADE OF BUMBLEBEE'S?
▼: yOu WoUlD bE lIkE, 'oMg, ThIs SuCkS, i Do NoT wAnT a FaCe MaDe OuT oF bUmBlEbEes.'
▲: WHAT IF YOUR LUSUS WAS MADE OF RAINBOWS?
▼: YoU wOuLd Be LiKe, 'OmG, tHaT's LaMe, I wAnT a LuSuS mAdE oUt oF nInJa RoBoTs.' WhAt If YoU pEeD oUt Of YoUr NoSe?
▲: WHAT IF YOUR FACE WAS SHAPED LIKE THE VEIL
▲: OR THE GREEN SUN
▲: OR PROSPIT AND DERSE?
▼: WhAt If YoU TrIeD tO bUiLd A sPaCeShIp WiTh A cAnNoN tHaT sHoOtS cRoCoDiLeS aT eVeRyOnE yOu HaTe? WhAt iF tHoSe CrOcOdIlEs
tree, fiddler crabIt took days to hollow out the soft partstree, fiddler crab2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the trunk, dig out the tree-flesh and sap,
polish the raw wood so that when he sat,
there would be no splinters. He carved his name
into the side, like a blessing, a declaration
of good fortune, and stowed his forest inside.
Winter 2012 Haiku Set12-6Winter 2012 Haiku Set2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
cats in the hall
shifting to find
the last afternoon light
all day the old cat
follows a spot of sun
down the hall
all my raked leaves
now a pile
at the back door
a faceless penny
a cat's balance-
if you stop petting me,
seventy miles per hour
towards the coming dawn
SouvenirsWhen her mom went to check the mail at breakfast, she returned with a thin box in her arms.Souvenirs3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was a package from her father.
Her dad was sort of like a traveler... at least, that was what she assumed he was. His job always had him jumping from city to city, country to country. He'd been to almost everywhere around the world, and every few weeks, he would send her a letter with a little souvenir from his stay. This time, it was a miniature Eiffel Tower.
So he's in France again, she mused, studying the two-foot tall replica. A small chuckle escaped her lips. It was about time he remembered to get it for her! He really should've thought of buying it six visits ago. She opened the small envelope attached to package and read the letter inside with a fond smile. When she finished reading, she stood up and excused herself from the table. Her mom answered with a sad smile as she nodded.
She raced up the stairs and headed for the Gift Room. It was a special place in the house just for h
W Swiecie Basni cz2W świecie BaśniW Swiecie Basni cz24 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Część 2 - Świat Baśni
Chociaż wypicie kubka herbaty zajmuje 5 minut, minęło dobre pół godziny zanim Włóczykij oznajmił, że czas na wycieczkę. Jednak gdy zapytałam, czy trzeba coś zapakować, spojrzał na mnie jak na kogoś, komu trzeba dwa razy powtarzać zdania. Nic nie mówiąc, zaczął grzebać w kieszeni.
- A oto będzie nasz środek transportu! powiedział po chwili dumnie i wyjął z kieszeni... swoją harmonijkę.
- Za przeproszeniem, chcesz złożyć z niego odrzutowiec? zapytałam wątpliwie - Nie wiem, co chcesz zrobić, ale z tego nie zbudujesz raczej Bambo Jeta.
- Po co nam jakiś Bambo Jet? W porównaniu z gigantycznym i głośnym samolotem, MÓJ sposób jest szybszy, dyskretniejszy i o wiele bardzie
for onceColdfor once5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the cavern where crimson vellum once resided
Drenched in reticence,
your empty blue eyes do nothing
but freeze the blood in these veins
surrounded by phantoms,
i lie in the dark next to your fading silhouette
between sheets that hold so many memories,
they are empty,
like the chestnut eyes that bore into yours
And as the rain falls harder
as it falls faster
washing down the streets
through deep alleys,
down endless roads,
i pray it takes me with
relearning i. stardust scatters with therelearning2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
direction of my pupils –
maybe secretly i am an
astrology teacher, waiting
for a sign to wink
happily at me.
ii. excuse the rambling
nature of forgotten question
marks, but tell me:
would you like to be the
object of handwritten clichés
would you like to whisper
secrets in my palm
and would you
like to be the possibility
iii. air brushes against my
skin like the torn petals
of a flower still standing.
[ hold your head up high, honey,
and tell tomorrow to wait just
iv. so you can figure out
the difference between
patience and having all the
time in the world. ]
v. stardust glitters from the
creases of my hands.
perhaps i am not the teacher
but the pupil,
relearning how brilliant
stars can shine.
BreakingI try and try to make things rightBreaking2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I still cry every night
Battling nightmares, losing the fight
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find the light.
I want to die, its just too much
I can't fight anymore, I'm not strong enough
Its too tough and I can't even hold my head up.
Whats the point in trying
when all I feel like doing is dying.
I'm a bad person, with a bad heart
a bad friend, I just rip everything apart
a bad sister, bad daughter, bad to the bone
I'm crazy, I deserve to be alone.
Nightmares and voices in my head
paranoid, I keep thinking everyone wants me dead
and no matter what I do, I fall back to the same place
its just becoming too much to take
I just can't do it, life is shit
burn my skin, cut my wrist
Its all too much, I can't deal with it
I quit, I quit.
Every thing I do is a mistake
every breath i take is just a waste
I can't help myself anymore, its too late
I guess this is just my fate.
Tik Tok Parody: Pewdiepie Version~Tik Tok Parody: Pewdiepie Version~Tik Tok Parody: Pewdiepie Version3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wake up in the mornin' feelin' just like PewDie!
Grab the lantern, I'm out the door, I gotta pick up Cutie.
Before I leave, pick up Piggeh, who's pumped for...well you know.
And when we leave to play Amnesia, I know they got my back!
I'm talking, lantern in my hand, hand.
Recording for my bros, bros.
Activating chair mode, mode
Dropping quickly to the floor, floor
Making sure they can't see me,
I think they're right behind me.....
Keep on running, 'till the bro disappears, tonight!
I'mma fight till I finish the game!
Tik Tok, Jennifer says,"I love you!"
But Pewdie says,"No
Oh oh ohohh!
Oh oh ohohh!"
Keep on running, 'till the bro disappears, tonight!
I'mma fight till I finish the game!
Tik Tok, Jennifer says,"I love you!"
But Pewdie says,"No
Oh oh ohohh!
Oh oh ohohh!"
Ain't got a care in the world, cuz Stephano's got my back.
We got the Golden Edition, cooler than the others!
And now we scream at the BARRELZ, c
Candy at a FuneralIn the face of bitternessCandy at a Funeral2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have mastered sweetness.
By the end of this day I will have calculated
exact measurements of cream
to wipe clean the face of gravestones.
I will have learned to soothe the aching
of windswept hearts,
to break open on my part
like a shell of chocolate
quivering open, full of cream.
I will have learned to love grief
as dearly as my own dream.
At the end of my childhood -my dream-
of owning a candy store:
a sweet shop, a bakery….
specializing in the art of the glazed.
The wedding cakes, the brick tarts,
memory of a birthday, of candles, happy catering
for happy occasions of all kinds…
will grow up with time,
and like the end of the day, seeing the look o
plumbumshe has a heart of goldplumbum3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and she, a heart of lead
and she, a heart of uranium.
and they go walking sometimes, the three of them.
gold is confident in her worth,
bought and sold and bought and sold
the virgin whore
and lead behind,
heart heavy in her chest
guilt from bullets
and pride from pipes
and anxiety from irreparable brain damage
and somewhere off to the side treads uranium,
white skin glowing,
thin frame for a dense core.
The Last SongDo you think we'll get a last song?The Last Song2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I'm not sure. This diary I'm writing in is full of holes. It's sopping like a wet sponge. It reeks, but what doesn't in the filth and the mess?
Storm's passing. Not like I've ever seen here. Even the explosive storms of my youth; running in the fields, the junkyards, the rust-ravaged train tracks of old wasn't quite like this.
Something's exploded against the skyline. Orange is reflecting off the glass; the spider-striped, near shattered glass I kicked two weeks ago while mowing the grass.
It might be the gas works. Or the chemical sheds. Weyrdstorms do this, you know. That's what the warnings said. Electricity and chaos and hellish atomic confusion mixed into an atmospheric slurry and let to rage. I ask the question because music's the one thing I'm yearning for right now. It settles me, helps me think. Always has, though keeping my sister's sniveling furthest from my head might be an ulterior motive.
Do I think I'm escaping this plac
Still the Same Chapter ThreeOnce again Karkat was up before his alarm, he waited until it started chiming before stopping it. He rolled over and observed John, he was still sleeping. The boy was curled up in a ball of blankets and limbs, breathing normally, his hair swept messily across his face. Karkat brushed the strands out his eyes carefully; he didn't want to risk waking the boy. Waking a sleeping troll was like asking to get your throat slashed out. It was a defense mechanism that they hadn't been able to outgrow; only matesprits could get away with waking each other. Karkat slid out of the bed carefully and threw on some fresh clothes. He was surprised at how well John slept this night compared to the last. The difference was astounding. He felt horrible for disturbing his sleep, but the day was starting and he needed to be up for it. "John," he called, from across the room. "John, get your lazy sorry excuse for an ass out of bed right now. We have shit to do and it's not going to get done with you layingStill the Same Chapter Three3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Still the Same Chapter FourKarkat awoke early that morning. He groaned and rolled out of bed. For the first time in weeks Karkat had actually had nightmares of his own. They were terrible dreams, but they were not the dreams of his ancestors. He dreamed of his friend's deaths, over and over again, he saw his remaining friends die as well. But the one that hurt the most, the one that had Karkat sitting up in bed, gasping for air, and nearly clawing his blankets to shreds, was his dream of John. It was a dream where John died, saving Karkat.Still the Same Chapter Four3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The troll shook his head and cleared his thoughts. Growling he set off to do what made him wake up early in the first place. His hand rested on Sollux's door, he was suddenly overcome with nervousness. He took a few steps back and looked around. "What'th up KK?" a voice sounded behind him making him jump.
"Sollux, god, you scared the shit out of me."
"That'th thuprithing. Uthually you're more alert than thith." Sollux continued, "What did you need? I athume you're in-front of
GriefEight men stood around the headstone. It read 'Paul Dedrick Gray, April 8, 1972 - May 24, 2010'.Grief5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
James sniffled, quickly wiping a tear away before the other guys could see. Mick was there immediately, wrapping his arms around his fellow guitarist. James turned and nuzzled into Mick's broad chest.
Joey looked over at James, than stepped forward; Corey reluctantly let the little drummer go and Joey placed a sealed letter marked '#2' and some fresh flowers to replace the dead ones. He stepped back only to have Corey pull him straight back into his embrace.
Shawn stood a few feet back next to Craig, who was taking long drags on his cigarette.
Chris was a next to Sid his arm around his shoulders. As torn up as he was still had sill managed to find the energy needed to comfort the younger man.
Corey led Joey away. The smaller man leaning on the singer for the short walk down to Corey's car. They pulled away and headed for the airport.
Mick started walking almost carrying James to his car and