Didn't mean to scare you, oops(Requested by Dekler :3)Didn't mean to scare you, oops2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She opened her eyes, and saw that the Enderman had backed away slightly, and was now holding out a hand to help her up. The blond stared. What... Why on earth? In utter confusion, she grabbed it's hand and let out a yelp as it hoisted her to her feet with ease and held out the diamond block she'd abandoned when she'd run away. But why? Fleet tilted her head and took the block, looking into the Enderman's eyes. It stared back and seemed to quiver a little, but it could still move. Why? Just... Why?
The answer was because it liked those big bright blue eyes, and the shiny hair. The Enderman wondered whether or not the hair was soft. Fleet didn't understand why it was staring at her hair... Did it want to pet her or someth- Her question was answered as it raised it's hand to her head and ran it through her short hair. It sent a small shock through her, jolting her body. It was indeed soft, and the Enderman could detect a
leitmotif(I will never forgive Millais for painting Ophelia calm in the water. My cousin Noah died shoeless and struggling under a lonely mans hands, his eyes full of rain runoff. Real people dont sink as pretty as oil on canvas: Noah was four feet five on the autopsy slab, no flowers, no frames. I am ruled by the aesthetic, but I would embrace his every imperfection if it meant having him back. This clumsy dilettante still loves Noah with the scabs on his shins, sitting sloppy at Sams recitals in sneakers and shorts. Give me the asymmetry of his eyelashes. For the first time in my life, the art is optional.leitmotif5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There is a reason I keep this part peripheral: this is not about drowning. Boys in deep lakes know nothing of footholds, and Noah left the rest of us grateful for something to stand on. Don't expect closure. This is about hindsight. Today, we know that we are spoiled by floors.)
Emily is seei
Dragon's Eye: PrologueDragon's Eye: Prologue5 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It was the summer of 1957, and the night was calm and warm. The storm clouds from earlier were now just a few harmless puffs on the horizon, but the air still held a faint scent of sweet rain. A light breeze danced through the woods just outside of town, rustling the leaves of the oaks and maples and birches. And within these woods were two travelers, seemingly following some unseen path through the growth.
Come on, its just a little bit farther, called the man in the lead. He had short, scruffy, sandy brown hair and wore large, squarish glasses over his big sky blue eyes. He picked his way through the thick underbrush with an air of someone who had done it many time before. The woman behind him, however, wasnt having the same amount of luck.
I sure hope this it worth it, Will! shouted the petite Asian woman as she pulled her shirt free of another branch. I dont know how mu
Cutters' LullabyPeople ask questions.Cutters' Lullaby8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I tell lies.
They check my wrists,
But not my thighs.
I put on a mask.
I pretend to feel joy.
Others never notice.
I'm a broken toy.
I lay in bed,
And begin to cry.
Unable to sleep,
I whisper the cutters' lullaby:
Hushabye baby, you're almost dead.
You don't have a pulse and your pillow is red.
Your family hates you and your friends let you bleed.
Sleep tight with a knife 'cause it's all that you need.
Rockabye baby, broken and scarred.
You didn't know that life would be this hard.
Time to end the pain that you hid so well,
And down will come baby, straight back to hell.
No One KnowsEverybody knows that something's wrong,No One Knows8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
But nobody knows what's going on.
No one knows the the thoughts that race through her head.
It's all better left unsaid.
No one knows she thinks suicide.
No one knows she wants to give up her life.
No one knows that her smile is fake.
No one knows that she pretends to be happy for others sake.
No one knows that her heart is made of stone.
No one knows she wants to be perfect to the bone.
No one knows that she's given up hope.
No one knows cutting is her only way to cope.
No one knows that she's really not fine.
No one knows that it's almost her time.
No one knows she's counting her days.
No one knows she's not as happy as she portrays.
No one knows the pain she hides inside.
No one knows she thinks happiness is just a lie.
No one knows she's given up.
No one knows she's out of luck.
No one knows she has chosen her fate.
No one knows that it is too late.
ScreamingScreaming on the inside,Screaming1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Smiling on the out.
I don't need this torture;
I don't need this doubt.
I'm sick of denial;
I'm sick of these lies.
Once, just once,
My smile should reach my eyes.
My scars are fading;
My courage is gone.
It's time I move on.
To a world with no sadness,
A world of wonder,
A slip of the knife,
Like a slip of the tongue.
I've ended my life.
I'm finally done.
In My MindI like to talk to my best friendsIn My Mind9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whenever i'm feeling down.
A precious lick of happiness
From their sweet and lovely sound.
I cry the tears of melancholy
Upon their reliable shoulders
A kiss among my scars
As the night grows colder.
A feeling of pure pulchritude
As our friendship does prove true
Yes, i confide in my best friend
If only you could hear them, too.
Teacher!America x Student!Reader - DresscodeQuick, get dressed! Gosh dangwhere were all your clothes?Teacher!America x Student!Reader - Dresscode1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
You tried to recall the last time you ran a wash. More than a week ago. That explained it.
Now you scraped the back of your dresser drawers for something that didn't break the dress code. "Arugh!" The minutes on that clock were changing far too fast. Well you had to wear something. You tugged on a really tight pair of jeans, which felt a little like a push-up bra for your butt at the moment. Shoving your feet into a pair of tennis shoes, you donned a very lacy, tight camisole with thin straps. Over that, you wore a cute graphic tee you hardly ever got to wear, because it was an off-the-shoulder scoop neck, a detail you hadn't noticed when you bought it on clearance.
You brushed your hair quickly, muttering a curse as you checked the clock again, and grabbed your school supplies, leaving the house without breakfast.
Your heart sped and you blushed as you halted your brisk-walk in front of the blue door to your fir
Ode to KeldeoOde to Keldeo1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Sweet little pony: cream, chestnut and blue
Yearns to be strong and brave and true.
Learns from his teachers, their patience and trust,
Lessons in life that you cannot rush.
Ambitious young kelpie, with eyes of grey
Recklessly sure then, he ran away.
Brave little warrior, certain and steady
But he faced a dragon before he was ready.
Our hero was strong, the dragon was stronger
They fought till the pony could take it no longer.
Battered and broken, quaking in fear,
“Cream-coloured kelpie, away from here!”
So moon and candle, give me your light
Fire in the hearth, burn clear, burn bright.
Children, gather in the fire's warm glow
And I'll tell you the story of Keldeo.
Weak and stumbling, attempting to flee,
Saved by a travelling group of three
They saw he was hurt, they bandaged his wounds
But he knew the dragon would find him soon
For he hadn't finished what he had begun,
And his foe would not rest till the battle was won.
The pony was frightened: trembling, he said,
Bioshock 2 Short StoryAndrew Ryan mentioned me once, in one of his voice diary recordings. The Alpha series Big Daddy, crouched by a Gather's Garden, crying. Epsilon, that's what they branded me, the last of the official Alpha series. They stripped me of all my memories from the surface, and bonded me to a poor little girl, an orphan, and forced a Adam Slug in her stomach, making her a little sister.Bioshock 2 Short Story4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I loved her like my daughter, though, and I was her Daddy. Mr. Bubbles she'd call me, though all Little Sister's called their Big Daddys that. No one got near her, and I was critically injured many times for her, and even died twice, but with the miracle invention called a Vita-chamber, I'd come back over and over. However, that wasn't the same for my little one.
The Splicers overwhelmed me, pinning me down momentarily, but it was too late once I broke free, and Oh god I can remember it so clearly, the bastards killed her right in front of me! They killed my little one, and broke our bond. Oh god, it
ExistenceTwigs scraping viciously at open woundsExistence8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stabbing my flesh as I quickly sprint through
A forest so dark, and so cold, and so thick
My heart has been shattered, it’s making me sick
Ripped dirty clothing and blood in my eyes
No one is near to hear my fatal cries
Battling words while I’m battling fists...
How do you fight what just doesn’t exist?
EndermanAs the young blond traced small details onto her map, she wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. For early fall, it sure was hot... Or perhaps that was just the heat of the furnace getting to her? Sighing, Fleet dropped her quill and stood up, dragging her hand through her short, fluffy hair. The day had been long, and the evidence of this was all over her body- Dirty clothes, a small smudge of coal dust on her left cheek... Not to mention the fact that her hands were stained with ink. But all the dirt, all of that dust had been worth it. It was always worth it. Sitting back down again, she didn't even notice the sun setting as she her mind floated in the lala land that most refer to as reverie. Nor did she notice the tall shadow striding towards her house, a diamond block in hand.Enderman3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
No, Fleet was far too lost in her thoughts to even realize that she'd left the door open. Too busy thinking about how she dove down into that cave everyday, and always hauled back such a huge load. Today was th
CrushI see the beauty within youCrush2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do you see it in me?
You're a girl with a heart
A girl with an open mind
Do you feel what I do?
Do you feel the chemistry?
I didn't expect this to happen
It was the furthest thing from my mind
But that's how it goes, isn't it?
Infatuation and hope springs up
When least expected
When my guard is down
Are you willing to try?
Do you get excited when you hear my name?
Like I do with yours?
My heart jumps when I see you
I want to take the chance
But I don't want to scare you away
I want to show you what we could be
I want to see you every day
I tell you my secrets
And you tell me yours
I hope you feel this, too
Or is it all in my head?
Skyrim: The Dragon's Bane C08The Dragon’s BaneSkyrim: The Dragon's Bane C082 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter Eight – To Ride in Snow
The chill air plumed from her mouth as the horse cantered along the river’s shoreline. Spotting the ford to cross, Mira grinned, shot a look over to the other rider whose fair hair was flowing loose from any bonds, matching her steed’s pace easily. Kicking her heels into the horse’s ribs, Mira laughed as the horse bounded across the shallow water toward the snowy plains on the other side. The horse wickered at the sudden freedom of running. Mira could hear a yell coming from Ulfric as he urged his horse to chase after her.
They ran wildly over the snowy plain sparkling pristinely in the pale sunshine, enjoying the bit of freedom from war, politics, and the troubles of the land. It was if they were transported back twenty years when they were young and doing the same chase. Mira swerved her horse, to which Ulric laid a parallel run to Mira. Slapping the reins, Ulfric le
Suicide noteDear Mister,Suicide note1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I lay empty inside with many thoughts of suicide. Limbo is where I stand above the ground so high. The people below laugh at my failure that has tainted my empty heart. So Mister call my phone, talk to me, tell me why I was born when nobody wants me. Maybe tomorrow or maybe next year you will find my wrenched corpse in my bathtub. The cold water will run down my bloody wrists. Liquor stains my clothes because I drank to my death in a good humor. Dead lips so cold just a touch will break me. No longer will I be your victim of your love rape or abuse. The scars on my body are enough proof of your existence. Tonight I will leave my proof of living by dying. Everything that I hold dear is gone now, you stole my everything.
Someday you will wake and see my face in the mirror with soaked bloody tears that you had drawn. Paint my corpse with your lies of love. Whisper your secrets into mouth, tasting the
And They Call Her... BratAND THEY CALL HER...BRAT!And They Call Her... Brat7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
(Or, "To the Victor, the Spoiled!")
___________by Alec Deluxe_________________________
"I said I wanted LIGHT highlights, bitch!" screamed Barbie at her personal hairdresser, just before she threw a hairbrush into the woman's face. The hairdresser ran out crying, passing Barbie's mother, Candy, on the way out. It was easy to see where Barbie got her looks: Candy, at 35, still had her smoking svelte figure, and had little trouble convincing people she was Barbie's older sister. She still looked good in her skin-tight blue jeans and bulging blouse. Of course, plastic surgery helped in that regard.
Barbie clearly had the same fantastic genes--and jeans. Her sultry blond hair and curvaceous 16-year-old body was the bane of older, potential-statutory-rapists everywhere. Her young pert breasts strained at her halter top, her tight white stretch pants virtually painted on her lower body, from her round sensu
The Thing About ClichesI.The Thing About Cliches5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. Well throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keys, and drugs.
Wed find footprints in the sand and read angels into them. Wed collect rejected roses, tarnished rings, and hopeful held breaths where the tides washed them up, tie them up with ribbon, and cork it all away for someone else to worry about.
This is not a romance either.
So instead I baked coffee cake while it rained, and picked the wee
When I Saw YouWhen I Saw You5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I first saw you, I didn’t understand.
You caught my eye, but for what reason?
Your looks? I admit your raven hair is a pleasure.
Your eyes have a light I’ve not seen in many.
Your smile…to this day still melts my heart.
But that first time I saw you…what made me notice?
You were like me, left alone and always to follow.
You can be a leader, but have no way to prove yourself.
Your talents are many, but who knows of them?
They say you’re gifted, but do they know your gifts?
You want to be loved, as you see your brother loved.
You want to not feel hidden by his shadow.
You want to be seen for who you are,
Not who you’re related to.
Your heart is broken for always being hidden.
Your reputation is marred by your acts for attention.
You’re broken in so many ways people do not see.
But I see…because I am the same.
My heart breaks to see you this way,
But my love for you will not fail.
You have me, whether you know it or not.
And maybe, I
LifeLife is unpredictably depressing.Life10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
BUT THAT'S WHY IT'S FUN.
High MaintenanceHigh MaintenanceHigh Maintenance5 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Inflation. No likey, No lookey!
Kurt? A voice cut across the din of the canteen Kuuurrrttt? He knew what was coming and sighed wearily, rolling his eyes at his friends who all gave exasperated sighs and annoyed glances in the direction of the voice. Each knew that there short time as a group today was over as soon as that shrill voice cut through the air.
Jeez Kurt, why the hell are you still with that pain in the neck? I mean she is hot, but seriously? Are you not tired? She never lets you hang with us. Gary said voicing the opinion of all the men round the table.
How can you deal with someone so high maintenance? Added Brian What exactly does she do for you other than order you around? Man, youre on a short leash!
KKKUUUUUURRRRTTTT! screeched the voice as it forced its way toward them before finally finding a way through the huge body of people milling around. There you are Kurt. Why
BrokenThere's a broken girl that walks down my streetBroken3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A broken girl I think everyone should meet
Her hair is a mess and her jeans are all torn
And the books that she carries are ragged and worn
She never really smiles cause she's ashamed of her teeth
And no one knows what she sounds like because she doesn't speak
She hides her plain brown eyes behind goggle looking glasses
But no one really cares or looks as she passes
She stays invisible until someone needs a laugh
Then she becomes the victim of every bodies wrath
They laugh til they cry and they all point her way
And smile and smirk for the rest of the day
Til she goes home at night to her drunken step dad
But at lest he's better then the last one she had
At night she reads love stories and writes a few poems
Wondering what it would be like to get out of that home
She dreams the same dream every night when she sleeps
That people will realize beauty isn't only skin deep
But until that day comes, she repeats the same thing
Staying off the ra
Exotic PartnersIt was during the second year of our marriage that I realised my wife was a large monitor lizard.Exotic Partners9 years ago in Humor More Like This
It was one of those funny little revelations that creeps up on one over time. I think the first clue came when she decided to hibernate for the three winter months. At first it did not arouse my suspicions. After all I myself enjoyed a lie-in, and had once slept in three whole hours past the alarm - on a weekday! - so I did not think it particularly note-worthy when she tucked herself in at the start of December and remained there until late February. Still, it aroused in me some small seed of doubt - for I had never before known her to go even three days without tending to the garden, let alone three months.
Her taste in gardening was minimalist, and this I applauded; it may have been one of the reasons I married her, I forget now. Instead of the silly sentimentality of a lawn or a flower patch, she insisted that the entire garden was covered in soft fl
Am I Too Broken For You?Is that why?Am I Too Broken For You?4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
The reason behind it
You almost sending me away
To "get help"
Because you couldn't understand
And were too afraid to try
Did you see the center
As a cure?
As a means of
Hiding the process
To reach that cure?
Can you no longer see it
The girl you raised from birth
The one who suckled from your breast
Showed you her first missing tooth
And hated you too
You can't see her inside of me?
Have I locked myself behind too thick walls
And thrown away the key to my door
Did you hope they would break it down
The barriers built from pain
Am I just that
A broken toy
In need of a repair
So you send me to the mechanic
To get me tuned
Wired back into the shape
That you once knew
Can you not handle who I now am?
Can you not help me yourself?
Can you not show me the unconditional love
You promised me from birth?
Do you ever consider the possibility
Of this thought process
Being one of the reasons
That I shattered
A reason that I built up so man