You are woman. You are man.You are woman,You are woman. You are man.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so be kind,
all in your own way.
You are man
so be strong,
SkinVerden looked out of the window and sighed. It was a summer's day, complete with fresh grass, singing birds and rainbows. It was a good day, a perfect day; or it would be if the weather was real, and the window for that matter. It was just an illusion, a curtain, if he pushed it aside, it would only reveal the damp wall behind it. He grimaced; it had taken him almost a year to make all the windows on request of the King who was catering to the whims of the Higher Ups. The snobs who couldn't stand the fact that they were surround by grey brick and the green slime that seemed to trickle down from the ceiling. Not that there was anything good to see if the windows were real, just the occasional dead tree, miles of wasteland and the eternal black sky.Skin6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He hated being in the service industry, catering to the wishes and 'needs' of the stupid people, the Higher Ups who couldn't see a decent bit of magic if it slapped them in the face. He ran a hand through his dark green hair as he
Kiss me KateA Third Doctor and Jo Christmas story.Kiss me Kate6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Doctor fell out of the TARDIS, coughing and gagging, waving away yet another cloud of purple-puce smoke as he beat out a small blaze on his pants leg.
This was really beginning to become rather tiresome.
The Time Lords had wiped his mind, and the TARDIS itself, of time/space travel capability, effectively turning the Earth into a prison. They had not counted on his sheer level of genius, though...
Well, perhaps they had.
He shut the door to his poor damaged ship rather hard, then patted the side, his expression softening. "There, there, old girl," he said, "don't fret. I don't blame you."
He shook his head as he stepped over to his work bench. "Those Dialanian crystals I salvaged didn't seem to do the trick." He gazed over his tools. "Perhaps a turn around the countryside would clear my head."
His eyes lighting, he turned. "I wonde
where is home for mewarning~ in order to understand what is going on see toy story 3 this has a few spoilers from the movie .... enjoywhere is home for me6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"shhhh it..we..we will be fine, don't worry" cooed the voice of the beautiful bo peep.
They were in a cardboard box, that's all she knew right now. What else was in there, she had no idea, it was too dark too see. Her heart began to ache, not knowing what was to become of herself and her three beloved sheep.
Almost 5 years had passed since she had seen her beloved Woody. She remembered the day, little Molly had grown too old for her and her lamp base, and Andy's mother put her in the yard sale. She had been sold to an expecting mother, who had a baby girl and wanted something cute to put in her nursery. Little Sarah, oh how'd she'd grown, but now she was too old for her and the lamp. Besides, little Sarah didn't play with her, just marveled at her porcelain body.
It wasn't bad with little Sarah though, even though
ConfiscatedArtie breathed a sigh of relief as the final agent left the building for the night. Not that he didn't love playing the brilliant organizer for the Secret Service's best agents, and not that he didn't enjoy discovering new- or not so new-artifacts, but there were times that he just wanted silence. Peace. Time for thinking. Time just for Artie and his Chessboard, Rubik's Cube or Gordian Knot, or whatever. Tonight, it was time for Artie and his Cookies.Confiscated6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Munching slowly, he ran through the nightly routine, checking all the sensors and shutting down certain lights for the night- not all of them, mind you. There was an artifact over in Section 15, row C, that had a tendency to walk off when the lights were out. It had been a challenge catching that one. Something about a power outage in Manhattan a few years back. He'd have to go through the files to get the full details.
He spun around in his chair, pulling up the file on the computer to satisfy his own curiosity. He was so fully engrossed
Doopliss ASCII______________________________________________________________________________________________¶¶¶¶¶¶¶Doopliss ASCII5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Love in ResponseWhen I say I love you,Love in Response6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I say it because...
you make each breath I take
You make me feel as if I'm living for a purpose,
not just searching for an answer I can't find.
You cast away the demons of my past
with every tight-knit hug
and every gentle kiss.
I say it
because you don't realize you mean the world to me,
and because I can't hope to sum it up
in just five lines of words across a computer screen.
When I say I love you,
I'm hoping you can look beyond the phantoms in my eyes
and into the heart of every moment spent with you.
I say it
because it's as close to honest as I can get sometimes,
and I don't want to push you away...
Mycroft gets homeMycroft gets home5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was well past eleven when his black car pulled up to his
door and let him out. Anthea always waited until he'd pressed the secret
button in the umbrella stand with the tip of his brolly, the anti-panic
button. That meant that he was alive and well and no one was pointing a gun at
his face. The car pulled away and he laid his back against the door and
sighed. His day had started at two that morning, and Christ help him, brother
or no, if Sherlock said one word about laziness the next time they crossed
Mycroft sighed again. Never mind. He was home. This day
was over until the next text came, the next phone call on the red rotary
telephone that didn't actually dial out as though he was the bloody Batman.
Only a matter of time until they put a Mycroft signal on the top of Big Ben and
flashed a glowing umbrella up against the London clouds.
He peeled his eyes open and pushed away from the door,
taking off his overcoat and
The Swing - Rude and RenoRude pushed open the door, walking through into his house, a lollypop that David had given him in his mouth. He didn't have much homework today, and it was the start of the weekend, so it was going to be good. The house he lived in was the nicest in the neighbourhood, his parents had put a lot of effort into fixing it up, and it was right next to the playground. He liked living here, there were lots of other children so he never got lonely. He threw down his schoolbag, knowing full well that he'd be told to pick it up again later, and walked through to the living room and froze. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.The Swing - Rude and Reno6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sitting on the sofa was his mum, Cheryl, with Reno cuddled up against her chest. She was stroking the bright red hair gently, murmuring something to him. Reno's head raised, and his eyes were red. It looked like he had been crying. Rude glared at him. Reno glared back.
Dear dAWHAT THE FUCKEN HELL WHERE YOU THINKING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!Dear dA5 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Sorry about the language but seriously what is the vast majority of the community thinking? This is not fair to unknown artists such as myself because our work will possibly never be seen. What might become some people's favorite art piece would never be seen because of this. It seems like DA is going downhill since Version 7 came out... I think the only good thing about it was DA Muro.
As a voice of the millions, I have to be brutally honest. I think this is the wrong pace to send it, but someone has to see this.
In the name of the millions pissed and counting,
Ugly FeatherUgly FeatherUgly Feather5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
PG. Blood and a hell of a lot of pain.
Reno and Rufus
Appearances aren't everything. Effectiveness is the important thing.
Don't own, just using for my own amusement
I don't think this is what :iconphnxdown: was expecting but this is what became of it.
For something that was supposed to be so powerful, it was rather lame-looking. The colour was a horrible, dull yellow that reminded him of an old bruise. It looked like it should be soft, but it was actually quite prickly and hard.
It was a potent piece of crap.
Tseng made sure they had one on their person at all times. He swore he was carrying the same dirty, musty old thing for years as Tseng made sure he got the same one. Elena got a fancy new one that was as long as her arm and glowed gold. Rude got one that was small but it had a re
Corsetsurprise! for the man I can't get enough of—Corset7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a cinched corset of butter-yellow leather
making my hips wider than they are
no room left for air, its bone and sinew replace
my own, the stocking top ostrich trim tickles
don't be fooled lover, lying back, head cradled,
or is it I who will be with my talent packaged thus—
we'll have fun finding out
riding crop in hand facing away, I ease on to
straddle you for a rigorous canter, you knew I would
and when I think I've bested you in your intrigue, you
reach and pull the laces tighter till I flutter and swoon
Turn Out the Lights RenoxCloudTurn Out The Lights - Final Fantasy VII - CLoudxRenoTurn Out the Lights RenoxCloud8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Funny. Ive never really looked at your eyes before. Id always thought theyd be red, like Vincents. Or green deep, clear, green .cats eyes, quick and sharp and always alert. Id never thought someone as fiery as you could have predominantly grey eyes, but I spent the last few years thinking I was an ex-SOLDIER called Zack, so perhaps I shouldnt comment.
I can see pain in your eyes, and anger. I know Rudes death affected you. I know, with all your heart and soul, you loved him. I know you watched the bullet enter his heart, watched him crumple, watched him die helpless. I know because three years ago I watched the one thing I loved flicker out of existence. Before that, I watched my best friend die for me, with such a profound effect that I forgot who I was. And thats why I know that behind your tough façade, youre dying inside, and behind the rage an
The Skull: A Love StoryBuried beneath a debris of odds and ends - discarded carnival masks, willow patterned tea cups, toothless combs, and mauled little clown dolls - a curve of yellowed ivory, like an old woman's tooth, peeped. Smoothly translucent, surprisingly so, and he wondered if a bit of bleach upon an old toothbrush might not wear off the yellow sheen and convert it to a gleaming alabaster, like a bust of Nefertiti, and indeed there was something of Nefertiti to its cast, something exotic; a slant to the eye socket, perhaps? And he wondered, and pondered, and rubbed the cheekbone (zygomatic process, his mind faintly reminded him) and debated how much such a thing would cost him and if it really were for sale, in this dingy little secondhand shop, and wasn't it beautiful (stopping a passer-by), wasn't it unearthly beautiful?The Skull: A Love Story6 years ago in General More Like This
(The passer-by, not unexpectedly, cast him a glance of befuddled astonishment, and hastily backed away, nodding, into a rack of moth-eaten coats.)
And he clasped it to his chest,
BirdcageNothing ever happens the way you read in the history books. In war there are never two armies, there is only a field of men. Never a number of dead; but individual lives snuffed out. That is what the subject of history is, years shelved and decimalized. Birth and death, graphed to the simplicity of lines. Great wars a footnote to the next great war. The achievements of men and women plotted out against the bookmark of day, month and year.Birdcage5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And somewhere amongst this, my mother breathed. Somewhere danced in now long-closed nightclubs, laughed at jokes told by a younger version of my Father. And then the unpin-able moment she fell in love with him, after which she would have sworn there was no moment, that she'd always loved him.
I try to place things, to tell the story to myself, but you cannot know the story of a life; you can only tell a new story from theirs, as one cannot speak with another's tongue.
Whilst other children would be given sweets, I would have to excavate them. Taught t
Poems of DeathDark RoomPoems of Death7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Here in this dark room
I sit in the gloom
They left me here all alone
With nothing to do but moan
I can hear Death's call
I think I'll end it all
I can hear Death's call
Into his arms I want to fall
I'll be out of this mess
There'll be no more stress
In the light of the moon
I'll be home very soon
Rot To The Bones
In this coffin I'm all alone
Left to rot away to the bone
Its quiet and dark in here
I'm at peace, there's nothing to fear
So leave me alone
While I rot to the bone
I Wouldn't Be Here
My skin feels cold to the touch
I long for warmth so much
When I feel hot flames licking at my skin
I wonder what was my sin
I fear into sleep I fell
Because it looks like I'm in hell
It felt like I was flying
But i guess I was dying
They must have burred me
Because dark was all I could see
If I hadn't jumped I wouldnt be here
Pressed against the wall in fear
Asexy PrideWhen I, amused, reveal the truth they simply shake their heads (oh, so knowingly! so sure!) and give the age old answers. Just wait, say they, it'll come in time. You're young yet, you're still a kid! Just wait and see, you'll change your mind. One day you'll find The (dreaded!) One and then you'll understand.Asexy Pride8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
They say I'll 'understand', as if at the moment the concepts of lust and desire are beyond my childish brain; as if I do not realize what lingering gaze might bring two (or more? hah!) together, what kinship might make hearts race and passions flame. Is this such a complicated phenomenon, the act of falling in and out of love, in and out of bed (in and out of each other)?
If this is what they think of my decision (or destiny, fate, proclivity, orientation?) then they've misjudged by far. They must not realize we all take ninth grade health, sit through the awkward week of embarrassing diagrams and snickered innuendos. They must
Fifty-nineThunder crashes outside and I jump at the noise. I'm not scared of thunderstorms, but I hate seeing what they do to her. The fierce light that shines in her eyes as she talks about appeasing God's anger. The locals are all taken in by it. They listen in awe when she speaks of Him, they bestow her with honours and gifts, they hold her word above all others, they block out the unspeakable things she does in His name, believing that it's all for the Greater Good. They don't know, of course, as my wife doesn't know herself, of the role I play in all of this. They believe, as she does, that the poor creatures come to her willingly, guided by His hand to their own sacrifices.Fifty-nine5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When the storm ends my wife leaves the house, transformed from the sweet woman I agreed to spend the rest of my life with to a force of nature I don't dare reckon with. Her hair is loose and tangled, wild like her white-rimmed eyes. Her mouth is thinned with anger and disapproval as she imagines the atrocities that must
Marlboro MeteorologyI can always predict the weather given how my morning cigarette goes. If it tastes like cardboard or an old apple, it will rain hard in the late afternoon. If burns the back of my nose, it will be cloudy all day. If I get a toothache it means hail and anything blowing up into my eyes means hot, humid, and sunny. My great grandmother had the same talent. If her back itched it meant snow, if her neck hurt it meant midnight rains had come and gone. Some things must jump generations.Marlboro Meteorology6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Looking at our flowerbed, you'd think it was snowing in July. The kid above me would chain smoke and scream language learning dialogues at his computer, tossing ashes out the window in a steady, Vesuvian stream. The land lady would always leave a filter or two as her treat when she'd leave notices for the rent crammed into door frames and mailboxes. And of course I carried my own weight, poisoni
Where Reno GoesWhere Reno Goes9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Where Reno Goes
by: The Goldfish of Evil
I heard it as I was walking home – a painfully human whimper from an alleyway. It was late, much too late to be out in the slums, but I had a job helping one of the merchants and my mother more than needed the money. And of course it was much too late to be examining whimpers in alleyways. I know that now, but back then, I was still a new kid in a big city; the connection hadn't formed yet. So I stopped and I looked.
There was a man in the alleyway, thick body coiled over another that looked tiny by comparison: it was a boy, a kid I knew from school. He was the only one that would talk to me, actually – I was big for my age and quiet, so most people wrote me off as stupid or even "wrong in the head" when I started school in the middle of the semester. I wondered if he had thought that, too, and just didn't care whether it was true or not. The second day in the cafeteria he had sat down beside me, this lanky redheaded kid a little y
Not Good Enough"Will I ever be good enough for his family?"Not Good Enough6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Story of my life.
I'm never good enough.
Papa wanted me to be a boy...... I'm not.
Hooo boy, did he ever go out of his way to let me know time and time again that I wasn't good enough - that I wasn't the seventh son he had been anticipating - that I wasn't worth Mother's death.
It was something I accepted at a young age -- I'd never be good enough for Papa to love - never even be good enough to not anger him whenever he saw me.
Helfarch wanted much the same that my Father did.... and like my father, he ended up with me instead.
I was never good enough.
Never obedient enough, never had enough fight in me, never feral enough, never tight enough.....never Gangrel enough.
It was something his blood wouldn't let me accept though. I had no choice but to try to do everything in my power to please him - to win his approval.
Never did work.
Delyth wanted an artist or a fortune teller. I am, however, neither.
100 Questions - Chester100 Questions - Chester6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
100 Character Questions (Chester)
Part 1: The Basics
1. What is your full name?
Chester Stupendousnoggin McSpiffypants Sho! ...Only two of those are correct though. And they're the two in the middle! ...Wait...
2. Where and when were you born?
Some people think I was born yesterday. But they're wrong! It was the day BEFORE yesterday. And by that I mean a long time ago! In a basement. *nodnod* 8D
3. Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)
Um... Mom was very sciency. And nice! Kinda sad sometimes too...
4. Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
5. Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.
With N-Persooonnn! Also Bunny-guy. And it's in a BIIIG ol' housey place! ...Except it's not too big, I just wanted to say big. It's a fun word! I reccommend saying it at least twice a day! That, and "foible"! Though I don't know what that one means. I heard Bunny-g
poems from the darkSlowly, i fade...poems from the dark8 years ago in Other More Like This
... unable to become free,
I fall into darkness and shadows.
Save my the hand of God...
I ally both I hate life and
the enviable death.
Life is a messed-up dream,
a cold hearted coma
when you realize you place
and watch you life pass you by
you will know what a waste you were