Let The Tears FallSometimes it feels so naturalLet The Tears Fall3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like the gentle rain of spring
Having tears pour down your face
Washing over everything
I'm not ashamed to let it out
All the emotion kept inside
To have it trickle down my cheeks
It's something I refuse to hide
Just letting go opens my heart
It allows my soul to breathe
But unlike the tears raining down
These feelings will never leave
Sincere emotions make it rain
These same emotions make me strong
I'll never shut my feelings down
I guess I've known that all along
There are times that I'll let go
And let the rain wash over me
It's a deluge coming from within
When I'm like this my heart can see
Haunted"At least a glass of milk, Cloud?" Tifa asked as the blonde man stood up from his place at the table and walked to the door, waving over his shoulder.Haunted4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I'm ok" He said and climbed the stairs, hearing Marlene and Denzel laughing at some random TV show and pushing each other around. His lips curled up slightly in a small smile as he shook his head: he liked it here, it was peaceful, at least while the two kids were in school and Tifa was at the bar working. His job was going pretty well too, it provided him with enough gil to help Tifa with the essentials, buy the children a toy or two and still allow him afford a couple of things for his bike and himself. However, he was never at ease in his room, there was a constant presence there, lurking around the lifeless place, making the piece chilly and giving it a dark aura. Denzel once told him he was paranoid, and that he actually liked Cloud's room, even when it was most of the time messy; the younger boy often slept with Cloud, snuggling c
Art of Dying A lot of people here came to pools like these. The rippling circles that were really more like holes in the floating golden grass, not quite reflecting the drifting sky - or as close as to what a sky could be here. The ponds reflected minds, thoughts, echoes, and with concentration they could be bended to display whatever an observer wished. Most chose to see the people still living on earth, the ones that they had left behind. Patches of colour, flashes of light, faces and hair darting like fish, eyes like coins tossed into a fountain.Art of Dying3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
A middle-aged man was at the edge of a pool now, his legs folded beneath him. He was slightly aware of the grass, and he could imagine something resembling a breeze, but right now his eyes were fastened firmly on the surface of the water. Dark eyebrows were knitted together, and his mouth underneath a mustache was frowning. His fingers gripped his knees, aban
Jak X: Good LuckBreathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.Jak X: Good Luck5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Forcing himself to take a series of deep breaths Jak narrowed his concentration on winning; he knew if he didn't they would all die. No words left his lips, not that he talked much to begin with. Even Daxter was silent, aside for an occasional comment or two; the ottsel had been hit the hardest from the poison, his smaller body had been a much more vulnerable to the lethal substance than Jak's or the others.
That was why Jak had to win. If he didn't they would never get the antidote and they would have no chance in surviving. Their lives were like an hourglass, and each second the sand got closer and closer to running out.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
Jak wasn't going to let that sand run out.
Daxter gently nudged the side of his head, nodding towards a certain aqua haired mechanic on the other side of the garage. "Well?" the ottsel muttered quietly. "This could be the last chance you'll ever have
beh..how i make flashbeh..how i make flash9 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
All spelling mistakes are copyrighted by meeeee, okay they aren't.. flash by macromedia and all respective companies and websites are named are owned by themselves. Yay. If you look for anything specific, hold control and F, or command and F on a Mac I believe, and look for the keyword there.
So let the headache begin ^^:
How to get Flash:
There are 4 ways:
A)Buy it at macromedia.com, the official way. it's expensive tough.
B)Go to shareware websites, like www.download.com, and get the trial version, so you can try for a month. You probably give up on flash after that time anyway.
C)Finding a bootleg version, which is illegal, so i won't discuss it to save me from trouble
D)finding a person who owns Flash, and can send it to you with msn/aim, but the file is huge mind you. And this is also illegal I think.. O_o;
This tutorial is based for Flash mx, the other versions might have their tools in a diffrent place, so you have to look for them then X__X
Unless you want to make
Jack's Stories, File 182: PrologueJack's Stories, File 182: Prologue3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
So, uhm, I'd like to talk about myself, then. Uhm, this is awkward, haha! Alrightee. Well, I'm supposed to be recordin' these stories of mine. This is my story, or, er, I mean, this is...me. So, my friend, Paul, he's a professor, see-I mean, he was. He says I should be recordin' my stories, somethin' about passin' them on...I just hope to God I sent this back to the right time..
I'm five foot ten inches and slender as can be, one hundred twenty five pounds. Alrightee, yeah, I know I'm sickly skinny, but we're all starving here okay? Well...I mean, we're alive, but it ain't comfortable here...you know? So, I have bright red hair, I mean vivid. It's dyed, with blonde highlights, 'cos that's my natural colour. My eyes are real ice blue, with darker blue rims, like a husky-dog's. I'm really, real, pale, with cheekbones like razorblades.
Oh, you mighta noticed, I have a British kinda accent and way of speak
Post-RED : Do you remember?Post-RED : Do you remember?6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Do you remember?
The fall season had finally settled down, but a constant warm breeze kept playing with the womans hair as she walked down the silent path filled with dead but colourful leaves. On each side of her, rows of tombstones were stoically reflecting the last sunrays of the day.
Step by step, the woman went further in the territory of the dead until she reached the end of the path. However, the purpose of her visit was still feet away. She had to cross more rows of tombstones which were beginning to be less organized, the stones being scattered around, breaking the symmetry of the previous ones.
The woman continued to walk on the cold grass, her feet barely making any sound, excepting the seldom crisping of the dead leaves. She walked forward until she reached a solitary tombstone. It was small, barely as glorious as the rest of the symbolic stones of the deceased, but it was clean and still polished, revealing its recentness. It also had a beautiful golden coloration be
Miss Tansybaum's CarnivalBy all accounts, Miss Tansybaum's Circus of the Moderately Peculiar should not have continued to operate. They were a very small operation as circuses went, they had no rides and their menagerie consisted of a single geriatric lion and a handful of obscure species, such as the Sudanese Crooning Lizards, who were obscure for a reason. Sure, Brendan the Mono-juggler could keep a single ball in the air for hours, but you got tired of watching after the first few minutes.Miss Tansybaum's Carnival5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Lord Maggothaunch's Carnival of the Un-Ordinary should have crushed them out of existence in the first year--indeed, that was among the lord's stated goals--and its failure to do so was a source of intense frustration for him. Did he not have scantily clad women and a genuine, if sullen tiger? Did he not have a genuine freakshow, with real live freaks, including a pair of dubious Siamese twins and a two-headed calf in a jar?
Miss Tansybaum did not have a freakshow (at least not in the conventional sense, although the less
Wrong AnswerWrong Answer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You said yes to a date
You said yes to a kiss
You said yes when I asked you to be mine
But you said no to the most important question
'do you love me...'
BreathlessFor the story behind this little story, you have to go look at Pika's "Corsetry" - see the link in the author's notes!Breathless7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: Jim Henson and company own everything Labyrinth; Pika plucked "Corsetry" from her deviously deviantly talented brain. I own nothing. Thanks as well, Pika, for reminding me of the elevator! ... and then reminding me that that elevator is, in fact, a lift. Hee!
Rating: PG-13 for language, innuendo and excessive décolletage.
Magical Past: Just a Toy, Nothing MoreMagical Past: Just a Toy, Nothing More2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Please see A/N for credits!
She was running late. Naturally. Rehearsal ran until two-thirty instead of ending as planned at two o’clock. In this case, it was a good thing; it was going well, and their director, Jeremy, was pleased. But that didn’t stop Autumn from groaning about it as she walked into the local toy store.
She was on a mission, and nothing and nobody would delay her further.
Today was the day she got to meet her god-daughter, her unofficial niece: Sarah, the daughter of her fellow company-member Linda. She simply couldn’t arrive empty-handed!
As Autumn quickly pushed the door open, the bell jingled rapidly. The clerk at the register must have noticed the determined expression on this shopper’s face, because he purposefully didn’t mention that the store was due to close for inventory in ten minutes; the large signs in the store windows and by the register were all too clear on the subject.
Autumn sighed as she scann
Not Very NiceGirls were still chasing after Paul and Ringo with their arms outstretched, waving autograph books in the air. Their screams were so loud and earsplitting. "Paul, Paul! Pauul!" they were shouting out. "Ringooo! Ringo, I love youu!" A few men holding briefcases and women with shopping bags passing through on the sidewalk had gasped and dodged out of the way, looking startled and scared.Not Very Nice3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Ringo kept turning his head around to look over his shoulder and panicked. "They... Are catching up to us, Paul! What do we do?"
"Keep running!" Paul ordered. And let me try to figure out where we go from there, the rest he thought to himself. He reached down and tugged the sleeve of Ringo's suit. The drummer had shorter legs and he wasn't going fast enough.
Ringo whined and felt pain shoot through his thighs. He felt like him and Paul had been running forever and the girls were never going to stop and give them a rest.
"I can't run anymore, Paul!" Ringo cried. "My legs... They hurt!"
Behind Closet Doors - Chapter XXVIIBehind Closet Doors - Chapter XXVII2 years ago in Romance More Like This
As Ray finally slides onto the tennis court leaving a trail of slime oozing in his wake, I sigh and realize that Wazowski is right. Under the current circumstances, I'm gonna need all the help I can get. Telling myself to stop focusing on the monster in the tennis court to my right, I step to the center of the net and wait for Ray to pick up his tennis racket. Even picking up the racket takes Ray longer than it would take a normal monster to pick something up. Since it's clear that I've been waiting for him, Ray wastes no time in grabbing the ball and using his racket to bounce it over the net toward me. My hand-eye coordination is not particularly good, but I manage to stumble backward a little less than gracefully and bat the ball back over the net to Ray. This is where the real problem begins. Ray can't return my serves to save his life as I soon learn. It isn't his fault or due to lack of effort; the snail-like monster is simply too slow to play tennis.
Design a country work sheetDesign a country work sheet5 years ago in Settings More Like This
For those people who needs to design their own world.
This is a form I will use from now on to help me design it faster and more complete.
original from: droemar's journal
Edited by mayshing 2010
Colors: (An example would be red, white, and blue)
Symbol: (An example would be stars and stripes.)
calender measure (time table): (Does their calender go by the moon, or sun? Or other planets?)
Races: (The races that inhabit the area, whether or not they're native.
Physical: (The ethnic description of your race: skin color, hair color, builds, dress)
Preference to fashion and beauty:
Weather patterns: (Tropical? Stormy? Cold? Earthquakes? Climate in general?)
-how the weather influence inhabitants behavior, travel
Major river and lakes?
Any construction a
Chory FeliksRaz Polska był chory i leżał w łóżeczku.Chory Feliks5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I przyszedł Pan Doktor. - Jak się masz, Feleczku?
- Źle bardzo, Doktorze, bo w gardle mnie ściska,
a w ustach mam coś tak jakby z bagniska,
i niech mi Pan Doktor totalnie coś stwierdzi,
bo, że tak już powiem, to z buzi mi śmierdzi "
Wziął za puls Pan Doktor poważnie chorego
i szybko przebadał Feliksa biednego.
- Źle bardzo gorączka, źle bardzo, Feleczku
Oj długo ty, długo poleżysz w łóżeczku."
- Dlaczego Doktorze? Co mi wciąż dolega?
I jak ta choroba generalnie przebiega?"
- Feliksie, mój miły lekarz tak naucza
Twój naród kochany sam Ci tak dokucza
Bo gdzie się podziała, Twa duma i chwała?
- Pod przekleństwami po świecie się wala!
Co spacja to Ku**a, wykrzyknik Pie***le
I nic w tym dziwne
Strange Ways (NorwayxShy!Reader) You walk down the hall, eyes barely open, heavy books weighing down your arms. Leaning against a locker, you ignore the dull thunk as you breathe slowly, waiting for the bell.Strange Ways (NorwayxShy!Reader)2 years ago in Humor More Like This
"Hullo? Excuse me?" A mellow, slow voice asks, jerking you to alertness. A Norwegian softly adorns his voice.
You move out of his way, observing his silver hair with its strange curl and his deep blue eyes. He was pretty tall, but not as big as Berwald. He vaguely reminded you of Emil, the Icelandic exchange student who always carried his pet puffin with him.
"Hey? Are you okay?" He asks, waving a hand in front of your face. You blush as you realize you had been staring at him, dropping your books in the process.
Bending down, you mumble, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry." He stoops down beside you, stacking some of the books for you, looking indifferent.
"A bit late for introductions, but I'm Lukas. Lukas Bondevik. You are?"
Your blush increases as you respond. "__________
The Beatles: Their Life In PoetryThe Beatles started outThe Beatles: Their Life In Poetry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As a group of five,
Playing at The Cavern in Liverpool all night live.
The bass player left to become an artist,
And the rest of the band wanted to improve
So they became the smartest.
They fired Pete Best,
Which for him was a bummer.
And hired Ringo Starr!
The new drummer.
And so the true Beatles were formed:
John, Ringo, George, and Paul.
Brian Epstein became their new manager
And promised them that their success would never fall.
The Beatles first ever
Album was Please Please Me.
Paul sang about "A Taste Of Honey”,
Like from a bee.
When the Fab Four first arrived in the United States
They were blown away with what they saw.
The thousands of screaming, crying, and fainting fans
That saw them were in awe.
Ringo said, "So, this is America.
They must be out of their minds!"
Yes, yes. In the U.S. there are all kinds.
The Beatles spoke in a press conference
And performed on
The Beatles: Playful TicklingThe four Beatles sat in the living room at John's place. This was one of those rare days when they had nothing to do. Usually they would each go to their own house or apartment and get some well needed sleep. Today, however, they all made an arrangement to go to John's apartment to chill. This turned out to be very boring, for none of them had anything to talk about. Also, they couldn't sleep because none of them were very tired.The Beatles: Playful Tickling3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Ringo finally spoke up after about five minutes of silence, "So, lads. What're we going to do?" Ringo said this as his eyes landed on John who was sprawled out on the couch.
"Well, I don't know. Have you got anything, Paul?" George spoke up from his little chair in the dining room overlooking the living room. He also looked at John who didn't seem to hear him.
"No, I haven't. John?" Paul and the other two stared at John. George snickered at John's obliviousness to everything. Paul and Ringo grinned at each other.
"Hey, I've got an idea," Ringo said
The Missing Maker [Jareth x Reader (ch1)]The Missing Maker [Jareth x Reader (ch1)]2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Oh, before I go,” said Mr. Jenson as he donned his coat, reaching a hand into his pocket. “I thought this might interest you.”
His voice had dropped to a conspiratorial tone as he handed you a tarnished, silver half hunter fobwatch. With an excited gasp and delicate fingers you accepted it from him, looking hopefully at his excited brown eyes. You turned your attention back down to the watch, engraved with an elaborate Celtic design. Though the hands were visible, it was difficult to discern the time for the visible inner workings of the watch distracted your eyes. Upon clicking the device open, you were delighted to see the intricate cogs and wheels through a protective layer of quartz. Then, something strange about the Roman numerals caught your eye. The hour and minute hand were both frozen at XIII. “It has thirteen hours!”
“I know, isn’t it strange?” he said, looking over his shoulder at the door through which the missus was wa
Act Naturally PrologueAct Naturally Prologue4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The young twenty year old woman, barley out of university stood outside the door of the offices of The Liverpool Echo, her new place of employment. She swallowed the slight lump in her throat that rose as she stared up at the small sign marking the building. This was her first job, and she was to be writing for their pop culture section as the music columnist. As she stood in front of the office she had no idea where that job would take her. Maybe it would lead to her having a big break into the journalism world, or maybe she would find something unexpected, almost unimaginable.
On a different side of the city a young man was sitting behind a drum set lightly tapping out a rhythm. He looked around at the other members of the band, wondering how he could stand them much longer. By now the man had been with the band for almost four years, and he was getting honestly tired of it. Originally he had been great friends with the front man Rory, but now the two fought constantly on this. Rory
The Cackling Canine [Jareth x Reader (ch7)]The Cackling Canine [Jareth x Reader (ch7)]2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
You came-to to the warm, wet tongue of a lapping dog, all over your face, ear, neck. “Augh—no! Stop!” Sitting up, you shoed the furry creature away. It was short with long, white hair, and pointed ears, like a wolf’s. Its snout was pointed and it barked relentlessly.
“Ah, stop!” Your head throbbed and you picked up a convenient pebble, throwing it far off into the strange new dark place. The tiny dog ceased barking and chased after it as quickly as a squirrel skittering up a tree.
“Ay, s’you again,” a tiny voice nearly shouted in your ear. “Sure took a long fall, ya did.”
“Ugh, I know…it keeps happening,” you groaned, rubbing your head where it hurt and blinking into the dim space. Above you was seemingly nothing but a solid rock cave, the ceiling of which was several meters above the ground. “I’m beginning to dislike stairs.”
“I did warn you not to go down that way, din’
The End.The End.The End.3 years ago in Drama More Like This
I never quite expected it to be like this. So peaceful. So lovely.
I let out another breath, and the monitor beeps once more, its soft chirps like that of the sparrows that used to congregate outside of my bedroom window. I find myself thinking of home, thinking of places I'd rather be than here, dying between these colorless walls. I think of beautiful things, skies painted in shades of pink, green yellow, blue, and orange, or a field of daisies, dressed in shades of gold by the setting sun.
The soft chirps continue, but I know that they won't go on for much longer. I will die alone, here in this cold, pale hospital room.
I'll be alright, though. Surely something better awaits me at least, that's what I'd like to think.
A soft breeze picks up throughout the room, disturbing papers and sending them fluttering through the air like ink-stained feathers. I look up to see a young man with pale skin and a shock of white hair, cloaked i
The Beatle Who BabysatBeing the youngest child in his family, George Harrison was not used to being the babysitter, rather, the babysat. Needless to say, when Becca called for babysitting, George was taken aback. He left the studio early that afternoon, waving a hasty good by to Paul, John and Ringo. George walked anxiously toward Becca's house, wondering if the two children would even listen to him. He had only met Annie and his namesake two or three times before, and wasn't sure how they would take a near stranger telling them to eat their vegetables and to be in bed by nine. As he approached Becca's house, he swallowed hard and knocked on the door.The Beatle Who Babysat3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Come in!" Becca's voice came ringing in his ears and he relaxed a little. George opened the door and was immediately hugged by a little blonde boy.
"'Ello there George!" George exclaimed, patting the boy on the head. Little George looked up and smiled, releasing Harrison from his gra