A Night to Try to Remember Pt. 2A Night to Try to Remember Pt. 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Are you feeling better, Twilight Sparkle?" the Princess of the night asked.
"A little bit, Princess, thank you," Twilight allowed, taking a long sip from her glass of water before softly setting it back on the table.
At a glance, it appeared little had changed in the appearance of the group in the twenty minutes since Princess Luna had finished relating Twilight's mishap from the night before. However, closer inspection would reveal an empty plate that once held a sandwich in front of Big Macintosh and bowls of salad ranging from partially eaten to just a few leaves remaining at Fluttershy, Rarity, and Luna's places. As for the others, they had opted for refills for their glasses of water, except for Pinkie, whose face remained submerged in her bowl. Twilight was convinced that the pink pony was somehow breathing through her ears.
"So who wants to go next and tell us their side of what happened last night?" Twilight asked.
"Ladies first," Macint
Pillow Thoughts II - Chapter 1 --AppleDash--Pillow Thoughts II - Chapter 1 --AppleDash--3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Pillow Thoughts II
Are you a spy?
The sun shined through the window, filling the little chamber with warm, playful colors. A distant bird was chirping happily, announcing the beginning of spring as the wind kindly caressed the tiny new-born leaves that were decorating the old apple trees.
The blue pegasus lazily opened her eyes, slowly looking around the room. The wooden walls reflected the orange light of the sunrise, as if they were quietly chanting to the rhythm of the clouds, slowly waking up along with the entire farm. A table with a small mirror was resting in a corner, along with a chair and a simple red chest. Rainbow looked at the white, transparent curtains that were swinging slowly, embracing the gentle breeze, as her gaze fell upon the orange pony that was lying next to her, still asleep.
She's so beautiful...
Rainbow let out a small sigh as she looked at her marefriend. It felt so good to finally be able to admit all these thoughts
Pillow thoughts - Chapter 1 --AppleDash Fic--Pillow thoughts - Chapter 1 --AppleDash Fic--4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
- Glittering Thoughts –
"Ah'm sorry, wha--?"
Applejack turned towards the blue pegasus. This was becoming slightly annoying.
"I uh... I said that you did a fine job.... today, I mean," replied Rainbow Dash. She quickly pointed at the nearest apple tree. "The apples, all gone. Ha! I never knew how you could get them all down... you know, with a single kick."
Applejack tilted her head to the right. This was surpassing annoying, sliding towards worrying.
"Are you sure you're okay, Rainbow? Y'all seem a bit…" She stopped mid-sentence, not really knowing how to continue.
"Okay? Pff, of course I'm okay! I was just... you know..." she said, ending her phrase with a wide, awkward smile. The pegasus shifted a bit, trying to arrange the bag she was carrying so it wouldn't fall off her back.
Applejack frowned a bit, but decided to ignore this altogether. She had plenty of chores to do today and she had no time for Rainbow's silly pranks or less-than-inspired jokes.
Much Ahoof About Nothing Part 1Much Ahoof About Nothing starring Princess Celestia and her faithful student Twilight SparkleMuch Ahoof About Nothing Part 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Twilight watched the little white starlike flowers swirl about in her cup of elderflower tea and sighed.
Rarity put down her own cup and looked at her in sudden concern from across the table. The two of them were sitting at their favourite table at the Dandelion Clock Café and enjoying a little afternoon tea together, but Rarity for some time now had noticed that Twilight, although moody at the best of times, was especially moody today for some reason.
"Darling!" she said. "That's the third time you've sighed in as many minutes! Now I know something is most definitely wrong."
Twilight lifted her face from observing the tea to look at her friend. The white-coated unicorn's eyes were regarding her with concern, but somehow Twilight didn't feel like talking to her.
"Oh Rarity. I'm fine, really," she said, and then straightaway her eyes dropped back down to the tea and its danci
CrossroadsAuthor's note: This story is set in a world just sideways of our own, where the heroes of American legends are real. But then again, so are the villains.Crossroads3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I say," said the tall, black man with the perfect smile. "I say, come along over here and sit a spell. You look plum tuckered out." And he played a little arpeggio on his guitar, which he held like it was a woman he loved.
It was dusk then and the sky was fading from its cotton candy dream color into a deep lavender, dark and low on the horizon like a lady singing blues, and Ted Swanson the securities salesman was grateful to sit down. He took a seat beside that old black man, right in front of the diner, and he loosened his tie. It was a lot damn hotter down south than he'd expected, and a lot lonelier too.
"Where am I?" asked Ted Swanson.
"You in Mississippi, boy."
"Yeah, I know. What town I mean?"
"Not that it rightly matters but you at Route 8, Halfway Diner, next to the Plantation. Ain't got no town name, but that's where
Queer Eye For The (mostly) Straight Guy Chp 8Castiel has always prided himself on being difficult to read. It's an advantageous skill to have within his world, especially in his line of work.Queer Eye For The (mostly) Straight Guy Chp 82 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He can easily conceal his emotions with a cool mask, a neutral expression and no one is any the wiser of his internal turmoil.
Or so he likes to think. His friends have always been different. So he is not so much surprised as exasperated when instead of greeting him Gabriel takes one look at his face and gives a low whistle "Trouble in paradise, bro?"
"Dean and I did have a disagreement, if that's what you mean." he admits after a moment, shutting the door to Dean's apartment behind him. The place is in even more chaos than when he left it, but at least there is a purpose behind it now.
New furniture is at odd angles around the room, waiting to be placed. Plastic is still spread on the floor, protecting the floor from splatters of the warm toffee toned paint currently drying on the walls.
"How can I be of assistance?" Castiel asks, before Ga
Inferno's Touch -0-PrologueInferno's Touch -0-4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"You are putting yourself in danger."
A metal door screeched in strain as a slim-fingered hand pushed it open. Sunlight streamed through the fluffy white clouds as a human form stepped onto the roof. The young woman walked forward, remnants of snowy patches crunching beneath her grey and purple sneakers. Squinting at the light, she moved to a nearby ladder and clung to it. Chills raked her body, igniting where her skin met the frosty metal.
Arriving at the top of the small overhang, the woman kneeled at the edge; the undisturbed snow clung to her jeans. Crisp winter air nipped at her cheeks and fingertips, furthering the cold that plagued her. Her soft breaths became water particles in the air and her thin spring jacket did little to protect her from winter's remnants.
"Ann, you know what will happen if you continue."
Ann unfurled her fingers from the large bag she held in her left hand and set it on the cement platform. She unzipped it and pulled the contents ou
El rancho de Don AlejoEl rancho de Don AlejoEl rancho de Don Alejo5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
(Basado en hechos reales)
Estaba solo, inmerso en la oscuridad de la noche que invadía su vivienda, el único edificio de toda su propiedad; extensas tierras donde pastaban sus animales y llamaba como suyas. Sí, su propiedad, su patrimonio, aquello que había sacado adelante con esfuerzo y sudor.
Las horas pasaban y estaba próximo el momento decisivo, lo sabía lo ansiaba. Su temple era resistente, criado a la antigua, acérrimo cazador, el iba a luchar por lo suyo, ya que nadie más lo hacía.
Con nostalgia dio otro recorrido a su hogar, el que había trasformado en las pasadas horas para resistir los últimos momentos de su vida. Recordó cada palabra, momento, remembranza alegre depositada en su mente y en aquellas paredes. Le había dolido la forma en que les había pedido que se alejaran aquellos que siempre lo acompañaron, pero era por su propia seguridad. Ahora esta
The Dalzell KnockoutThe Banana Bar wasn’t Conner Dalzell’s sort of place. I was behind it slicing lemons, wincing at acid burns, when he walked in alone in a buff duffel coat. The guy was at least fifty, maybe older, his hair turning white.The Dalzell Knockout3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Tonight was student night, all the cocktails were half price, and fresher girls were getting fresh with lecherous finalists in the faux-leather booths. Conner Dalzell stood in the doorway for half a minute and I thought he would leave. But he took off his coat and searched for a peg to hang it on. To his evident surprise, he didn't find one, so he flung it over his elbow and waddled to the bar.
“What would you recommend then?” he asked. My hands were sticky with lemon juice. I hastily wiped them on my apron.
“Our featured cocktail today is the Blue Lagoon Special: vodka, blue curacao, and white wine.”
“Sounds awful,” he said, slipping from the barstool he’d tried to mount. “What’s blue
Pilgrim of the Year to BeThe night was crisp, and Doctor Jazz was making his rounds again.Pilgrim of the Year to Be4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His first visit was to Mrs Madrigal at the far end of the valley. Her triplets were feverish, so he calmed and soothed them with the medicines in his little black bag until they fell into a rhythmic sleep. He left their worried mother with a chill pill and instructions to bring them to the surgery in the morning.
Back on the path, feet pumping, heart thumping, cane tapping, he scaled the ascent to Beggar's Farm, where Mr Williams was feeling crotchety. The problem was minor so his work was minimal and the visit brief.
He paused at the farm gates to enjoy the cooler breeze of the hilltop and watch the stars in their slow spiral dance. He patted the pockets of his long frock coat to locate his pipe, and smoked a bowl as he traced the dark line of the hills across the way and the yellow lights of the houses in the village below. A sheep bleated in a nearby field and he was content. Life in the valley was harmonious, a pasto
Ella, simplemente, se sentia solaCada noche dormía abrazada a su almohada, recordaba canciones que ya no se escuchaban en la radio, pues habían quedado pasadas de moda. Retorcía mechones de pelo en el dedo para hacer tirabuzones al soltarlos, pero nunca se quedaban, tenía el cabello demasiado liso.Ella, simplemente, se sentia sola2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Cada noche miraba por su ventana, esperando que un príncipe azul entrase por ella, pero eso no iba a ocurrir, ella lo sabía, por eso la ventana siempre estaba cerrada.
Cada noche se preguntaba qué podía hacer al día siguiente que fuese mejor que el anterior, qué podía hacer para ser un poco más feliz, pero no encontraba nunca la respuesta, simplemente hacía lo que le parecía bien cuando llegaba el día siguiente.
Aunque cada día andaba por la ciudad, se sentía sola, no importaba cuanta gente la rodease. Ella, simplemente, se sentía sola.
Siempre miraba a su alrededor, pero solo encontraba cuerpos de v
The Courier Eirik surveyed the impressive façade of the Temple of Myralo with concern, brow furrowed, fingers worrying the loose leather strap that kept his dagger in its sheath. It was certainly a pretty building. Everywhere he looked there was beauty to behold – from the intricately detailed vine-and-leaf patterns carved into the cloud-white exterior, to the elaborate mosaic of Prismeryl, Twin Deity of Beauty dominating the archway above the temple’s entrance.The Courier4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Hanging next to the ornately wrought gate into the temple’s courtyard was a “Help Wanted” sign. It, too, was beautiful, written in a light script by a steady hand, and assuring any applicants that the pay would be more than sufficient. Eirik didn’t doubt it. If there was one thing the Prismeryllian priests and priestesses were known for (and there were many things they were known for) it was being as free with their pocketbo
O' SisterStart with something, whether it be words or thought or action. Just do something, anything to avoid this dissipating grey matter, neurotic erosion.O' Sister4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I don't exactly remember everything." My words are timid, pensive.
The moments revolve, coil and ignite; flashing images with no particular order.
I scrunch my iceman toes, attempting to conserve heat, but the cold still surpasses the fabric of my Converse. My muscles tense against abrasive arctic gusts. The bitter wind raises bristled hair above goose bumped flesh.
These pink fingers quiver in the grasp of an 'I heart New York" shot glass. I guzzle down Stolichnaya. The vodka is dry-ice against my tongue; molten silver.
Blurred peripherals detect a lone ember drowning in the ashtray, a Marlboro Smooth choking beneath garish glares of moonlight.
"And this kinda s
Words, Words, WordsIt was the end of the last normal day for Jonathan Fields. He had finished work at five and had come back to his modest apartment without a sense of accomplishment. Having fixed himself a hearty dinner of microwave soup and wrinkly carrot sticks, he sat down on his grey couch and turned on the TV. There wasn't anything on that really interested him, but he got some sparse enjoyment from complaining about the lack of content. He had almost reached that blessed hypnotic state the television could sometimes induce, when his cell phone bleeped and buzzed a tired tune that he had long since ceased to hear. He picked it up without looking at the name.Words, Words, Words4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Hi Jon! It's Angela. Are you ready to go? I'm super excited! I can't thank you enough for going with me. We're going to have so much fun!"
"I couldn't let you go alone. It's too dangerous. Anything can ha
APH royal weddingAPH royal wedding4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Disclaimer : Don't own Hetalia, alas.
Genre: Family, Friendship.
Characters: England/Arthur, France/Francis, some people you'll recognize
Rating: How could it be more than K+ (because of England's mouth) in that cute little OS?
Author Notes: What Hetalia fan could watch the royal British Wedding without think to our favorite characters somewhere in the crow? Especially the British Brothers
On this morning of 29 April 2011, in a chamber of Buckingham Palace, Arthur Kirkland, also known as United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was all but calm.
The room was in a mess which would have made faint the maids of the palace (if Arthur would have let them enter in his room) and despite of the preparation of the event of the year he had prepared since many weeks, England was taken short. Looking at his reflect in the mirror, he didn't seem to be uncomfortable in his black ro
No VacanciesPeter felt a headache building steadily behind his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to close them for a few hours – maybe even a few days. Unfortunately, he was on duty as Supervisor and would be for the foreseeable future; his only replacement was currently vacationing in a parallel dimension after pulling a decade-long shift himself.No Vacancies1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The source of the headache seemed to lack any sympathy for him or his plight. Amazing how a soul could go from satisfied awe to spitting fury in the time it took to apologize and say, “there is no room in the Inn.”
Perhaps a joke hadn’t been the best initial course of action.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do,” he tried to explain once more, keeping his voice level. “Heaven unexpectedly ran out of housing three days ago. We have construction crews working on it, but demand is, so far, outstripping supply. There’s a waiting list a mile long and it’s gotte
The Door of Our Cottage in the Western NightThey began on the beach, and a fire was raging upon the waters. A fire on one side of the world and one around the other. The earth had been unbruised, like an apple on a string, and then two stones had struck within a month, and everything had burned, slagged by deep space arrows. The wind was terrible. Everywhere was a howl with no direction.The Door of Our Cottage in the Western Night3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
There were a few lichen-like communities in damp places, where the sky had steamed by but seared little, lifted ravines and streams from the land, unwrinkled it, dragon braille revealed only in fire. There were a few who had been underground, and a few in the inland seas and lakes, a few in the deeper rivers, a few on the moon, watching it go.
The moon was hit four weeks later, and there were no lunatic survivors.
Once again, we were alone. The world had been smoked and there was a smell of it everywhere, and we walked on the remains of the crater's basin lake. It was involute
MiedoMiedo4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Tengo miedo de olvidarte, de que un día despertar y no encontrarte a mi lado.
Mi miedo es tan grande que temo no volver a probar una vez más el sabor de tus labios. Al cerrar mis ojos recuerdo con detalle tu rostro y veo esos hermosos ojos que me ruborizan.
Sueño con cada momento que pasamos juntos, siento tu respiración al mismo tiempo que la mía. No se que haré si tu te vas de mi lado. Tengo miedo de perder tu calor, de olvidar tu perfume, y tu rostro.
¿Olvidarte seria lo mejor? Que puedo hacer con este miedo que me invade, no me deja pensar, no me permite soñar
Algo dentro de mí me dice, que no te podre olvidar, no olvidare tu rostro, tu sonrisa, y venceré ese miedo.
My Mother and the BoyWhen that boy left, he left Mama a wreck. She sat in that creaky old kitchen rocker, her thin hair disheveled above clammy, transluscent skin, her black, birdlike eyes glittering like beetles, sunken and strange in her pale face. She moaned whenever anyone passed, but without looking at them, her hands in frantic and mechanical motion knitting row after row of snarled thread. "I let that boy into my house!" she muttered. Occasionally she would get up and pace back and forth across the kitchen, restlessly wiping at various surfaces with a greying little dish towel clutched in her bony fingers.My Mother and the Boy5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Then Joey and I went off to school, and she was alone in the big house, filling the silence only with her own mutterings and the anxious clicking of her knitting needles. The neighbors would grab our sleeve on our way out sometimes, and ask if she was still alive in there, because she never showed her face.
One day, when I drove down to visit Mama, I found her stan
Caught DrowningFirst I notice her hair: dark and longer than any girl I've met, pulled back in a high ponytail and still past her waist. Since I'm following the line of her hair, I see her hips next, round and smooth like a bright red apple, picked fresh and rubbed against t-shirts, ready for biting. Attached there and growing like slender trunks from her hemline are two long, smooth legs. She smells like green grass and old wood.Caught Drowning4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We exchange the normal pleasantries. She is subtle and graceful; demure and polite. She speaks like an orchestra, her tones long and smooth, but there's a hiss there, like steam from a radiator. It works for her, and I've never done this before.
She laughs at that, a sound like a sour note that tugs somewhere at my stomach. "Exotic," I say; and she laughs at that too.
I realize she's waiting for a sign, so I imagine a flare between my lips and blow it out, a slow exhale. I wobble in the breath, but she catches me with her eyes. Black eyes, I notice, all the way through, but
A game of dice'There are more cats than tables in this café.' I remark.A game of dice4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He tilts his head in his characteristic brisk nod, 'Aye, well, there will be no rats in the cellars.'
I brush off the crumbs from my napkin; he lets his drop into a crumpled ball of cloth onto the table. I step off the raised pavilion, past the bougainvillea and onto the road. I hear a chair grating, someone shouting something to me in a high pitched voice, and tyres screeching.
I twist my head and see a sedan speeding towards me, its burning tyres shrieking curses at me; in slow motion, I register the type of car a Honda accord -, its registration number a couple of years old at most and throw dice in my head.
I stand my ground.
The car screeches to a halt inches from my knees. In the distance, an old lady is screaming; in the vicinity, someone is shaking my shoulder, asking if I'm OK; the odour of burning asphalt and rubber assault my senses.
I look down at a cat looking up at me, pawing hungrily at t
Pygmalion In some distant land there lived a king and his mind. In a time of steam and balloons and the defiance of Gods and Nature alike by Man, his people thrived in unbroken peace, and the king and his mind lived alone in his hall. No sentries guarded its doors, for the king felt safe in his home; no queen sat by him as he ate. Instead, the emptiness was filled with the treasures of the modern day: precious metals and glass moulded into technical tools and toys for his pleasure, and forces driven by sheer physics for that of his mind; a mechanical menagerie of metal lapdogs that barked when called, frogs that croaked squeakily as they hopped meaninglessly about, cats that purred when their well-greased ears were stroked.Pygmalion4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Yet neither the king nor his mind were satisfied: the mind grew bored with the knowledge it found in weights and steam, and the man himself, the fallible king of a refined land, grew fonder of the obje