I I hate myself.I3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I'm plain. I'm boring. I don't have any sexual appealing qualities.
Heck, I'm a C cup for goodness sakes.
I never went outside during the entirety of my middle school life. The only time I stepped outside was when I went to take my precious dog to go do his business and to go to school. If I went to the mall, it was rare. I had a tendency to lock myself in my room the minute I got home to read a book or to do homework. I sometimes studied when I had a test the next day and I barely ate because I never did anything to have my stomach weep for hunger.
I was lonely. I was depressed. I rarely ever smiled.
Geez, I was like a scary frowning clown.
The moment I entered mid-high, I only had a few friends. Those friends were entirely online.
Yes, I had a boyfriend. He was my childhood friend. He doesn't count, he's a boyfriend, and he's not someone I can go complain to about my girlish problems and fangirl about my many fandoms with.
it won't, i know that.Let me tell you a story. Let me paint you a picture.it won't, i know that.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It’s dark and I’m alone and the wind is howling and once upon a time, I might have made this sound poetic. I’m crying, but it’s not pretty. I’m crying and my nose is red and my hands are shaking and the cigarette is limp between my scarred, calloused fingers. I once might have made this sound pretty. I might have made it sound desirable. Did you want a high? All you had to do was touch my skin, to feel your way down my sweat-slicked hips. Did you want to get buzzed? You just had to soak in the passion like alcohol and let your mind go wild. I used to have nothing but chaos to offer. Now I just have memories – do you want to take them?
But you won’t. I know that. I paid the price and life paid me. Whatever I once had is gone and it’s been replaced with this shaking emptiness. I can no longer get drunk. I just get sad. I sit at broken pianos and think about the music they used to make, li
FingertipsLoki was sitting in his cell moveless, silent. Trying not to think so much, but thinking was the only thing he could do now. His bandaged eyes covered himself in endless darkness.Fingertips3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The god even didn`t know if it was night or day. No light reached his eyes. How long has he already been there? He didn`t know. He lost all his feeling for time. His eyes became useless to him.
His bounded hands even didn`t allow him to raise his arms more than few centimenters and if that wouldn`t be enought, Odin had also bounded his feet to the ground. Forced the god to sit there in an unatural posture. Oh, how much Loki wished just to move his legs in a different position. But it was senseless. His whole body was useless to him now.
He already had tried to rip out the chains from the wall the very first time he was imprisoned. He screamed, yelled all the time. Threats and insulting came out of his mouth followed by beggings for mercy. But after a time he gave up. There seemed to be no one who was there to
Cow of the Wild - Chapter 2CHAPTER 2 I DARE YOUCow of the Wild - Chapter 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"I think I'm going to claw my own eyes out, I'm so bored," Alari complained.
Midnight looked over from where she was leaping up at the ceiling of the den, snapping at roots and trying to pull them down.
"You should try this, Alari. It's kind of fun," she invited her friend.
Alari padded over and watched Midnight leap for the root again, her jaws snapping shut on air, her body falling back to the ground. Alari was highly unimpressed with this game, but gave it a try anyway.
Leaning low to the ground and bunching her muscles, then rocketing up at the root. When her face reached the ceiling she quickly snapped at the root, her teeth closing over it easily. Midnight laughed as she hung there by her teeth for a moment and then flopped to the ground when the root broke. The ceiling showered them all with a layer of light red dust. Midnight and Alari both doubled over in laughter while Bone paced nervously.
What You Learn From The Stars1. The stars are the greatest liars to ever exist.What You Learn From The Stars2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
2. They will always remind you of him.
3. Your obsession starts when your cousin gets a telescope. He wants to be an astronaut. He shows you Orion. The two of you sit in the long summer grass with your necks tilted back and he tells you about flight and velocity, but all you know is gravity. The way it drags your limbs low. You listen and stare over the treeline and wonder why people are always trying to explain things instead of just letting them exist.
4. You buy a box of glow-in-the-dark star stickers. There are sheets, and there are thousands. You use an encyclopedia to look up star maps and painstakingly recreate the winter night sky in the northern hemisphere. Your fingers bleed from the pointy corners sticking under your nails but on stormy nights at least you still have the stars.
5. You learn about horoscopes, try to find your zodiac so you can know your f
That One Apartment: Doc Scratch X Reader"Wha...t?" You question the air, as your vision remains blurred for a few moments after the awakening following your shortened slumber. You lay on the hard ground beneath your back for a moment, your vision deciding to level out now, so you stand, creating a new blanket of nausea.That One Apartment: Doc Scratch X Reader2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
After wobbling a bit, you steady yourself and rub your eyes free of the sleepiness that still lingers in them. You yawn and stretch, scanning the perimeter.
Ah, you're here. This place brings back some embarrassing memories... You were currently in your best friend's bright green apartment. Why he even fancied such a bright color, let alone brighten it, by any means. You dust off your jeans that you fell asleep in last night, and wander his large apartment in remembrance.
This was such a horrid day. You were scared of thunder and lighting, or any means of nature-produced electricity or menacing sound. It was a stupid fear, and you in the present agree with that. You were huddled near a corner, like
a quoi ca sert l'amourShe remembered that night better than he did. The way he was dressed, how he talked, what he ate, where he was stayingthe ring on his finger, fresh from January, and it shined under the dim light, her warning sign to stay away; a warning sign she took seriously and knew well. She kept the thought vigilant in her mind with every fidgeted rub to her own naked ringfinger under the table, the ghost of the engagement then and the marriage that never was. Her boyfriend beside her should've been reason enough to resist the obvious magnetism and subsequent temptation, but she found herself captivated by this man of her French homeland, who listened to every word she said with a rapt attention her boyfriend would never match. He kept conversation going. He asked questions and listened to her babbling answers. He made her feel special in a way that the Hollywood gift baskets and showering of flashing lights and Al Pacino and Entertainment Tonight couldn't replicate. He was real. He made hea quoi ca sert l'amour3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Cavities1. One 23 foot length of intestine. Only one small knot in the system. £3006. Free shipping.Cavities3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
2. One kidney. (2 available from this seller). Each with a centimeter of renal artery included free! Order now and we will throw in a free gallbladder in near pristine condition! £2700.
3. One brain (faulty) with scratches in the frontal lobe due to patching of a minor issue from warehouse. Refurbished by a licensed neurosurgeon. Not fully functional but perfect for parts. Serotonin not included. £18200
4. One vertebral column with or without spinal cord to suit buyer. Can be gift wrapped to taste with a personalised card. Leave your message at checkout. £14020
5. Bundle offer! Dignity, artistic integrity and skill available to any loving home. £1 or nearest offer. Will negotiate.
Helicase Helio and I were always sitting on the stairs, chatting about the lamina and occasionally making snide remarks about ribosomes. There wasn't much for us to do. Our job was to simply be, and let the RNA polymerase scribble down the letters on our foreheads when they came around every once in a while. Helio was a G, I was a C. It wasn't exactly fulfilling, I suppose. There wasn't much to be filled. So to pass the time, we talked.Helicase3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You ever wonder?" Helio asked.
"About...well...what's out there." Helio and I were rooted to the stairs, quite happily, but it was awkward to move in. He kind of twisted in the general direction of the closest pore. "Out in the cytoplasm."
"I haven't," I admitted. "What's there to wonder about?"
"That's exactly the thing. I have no idea." Helio sighed, gazing into the distance. "Somehow it feels like we pl
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 Meteorology5 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
The Black Parade (Homestuck version): The EndCHAPTER ONE: THE ENDThe Black Parade (Homestuck version): The End3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
HOSPITAL ROOM B612. NOW.
This was the message Karkat Vantas, age 17, sent to all his acquaintances at precisely 7 o'clock. His palms sweated as he patiently waited for any replies. The hospital room, in which he was assigned, was mostly white; white bed and bed sheets, white walls, white tiled floors. He was even wearing a white hospital gown, which made his already pale skin look paler and contrasted with his jet black hair. His eyes were naturally a bright shade of red, though most people accuse him of wearing colored contacts, and were underlined with dark skin caused from his insomnia. A necklace, the zodiac sign for Cancer, hung around his neck, glittering in the pale light of the room. He fumbled around with a small porcelain crab his father gave him before he had been murdered, fearing for the near future. On this fateful Saturday, he had to tell his friends, no matter how heart-crushing or how ironic it was: he had cancer.
The first to arrive, more like spr
How the Fairytale EndsI remember lying in the dark the night after we killed the troll. My bandaged side hurt like hell, and I thought maybe the arrow the monster had used had been poisoned. I shivered at the thought and pulled my cloak farther up to my chin. This left my feet, bare, of course, so I sighed heavily as I tried to bend down and cover them again. I had barely moved before he was there, pushing me back down gently and settling his own cloak over me.How the Fairytale Ends4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Idiot," I heard him mutter.
I fell asleep with a grin on my weary face.
That I can remember clearly, though it seems so long ago now.
This journey of the king's faithful young knight and a starry-eyed tomboy started months even before then, in the days when we were still infected with those twin diseases, stupidity and recklessness. Others called it youth and bravery. I've discovered there's very little difference, really.
Either way, here we are now, on the cusp of victory. Soon, our trial will be over. It's what he always wanted.
I glance to my si
Chemistry [Dave x Reader]His hands held the slightest tremor as his fingers tangled into her hair, holding still as he brushed his lips against hers experimentally. His heart was throbbing painfully in his chest as he gauged her reaction to his advances.Chemistry [Dave x Reader]2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her lips were parted slightly as she gasped for air, a red hue illuminating her face. He searched her shocked eyes for some response before placing his lips onto hers more firmly than the first time. From the safety of his shades he could watch her (color) eyes widen before slowly fluttering shut. Their bodies were pressed so close he could feel the nervous tremors shaking her when she finally kissed him back.
She pressed her lips against his with the faintest of pressure but it was all he needed. She kissed back. She didn’t shove him away or tell him to stop so she must feel the same, right? His heart froze at the thought. What if she didn’t really like him?
He clenched his eyes shut trying to shake the nerves away. He tightened his grip and gentl
Our ScarsScars fade, but never disappear completely. However, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Scars remind you of the battles you've fought, the trials you've faced and overcome. They show the world that you're human. You've struggled through life just as everyone else has at one point or another. You came out of the battle, not unscathed, but alive. You won the fight. If you hadn't, you'd still be bleeding. But you're not. You're wounds have healed and all that remains are little scars. But these scars aren't ugly. They're beautiful in their own way. They show your weaknesses that have or soon will become your strengths. Sure, they do stilll hurt somethimes, but that just proves that your wounds are slowly, but surely healing. The pain will lessen, it just takes time. Be patient.Our Scars4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
One day, perhaps you'll see yourself
Nano Day 011.Nano Day 015 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
His birth was one of the first things that Anwen remembered. The beginning of her life in memory began with the beginning of his. Idwal was her anchor.
Truth be told, she did not remember his actual birth. She had no real memory of him slipping into the world, inevitable and streaked with blood. She recalled the long, slow months of her mother's pregnancy. She remembered the growing, physical thing that held her separate from her mother, that pushed her away, an anthill growing day by day beneath her mother's clothes. As ominous as an anthill. As unwanted.
She remembered the careful explanations, the clearing out of the small room at the back of the house, the re-construction of the cot and the re-painting of each cylindrical dowel that made up the bars in white, gloss paint. She remembered thinking, what kind of creature has to be kept in a wooden cage?
And then that day That day when her mother became preoccupied, and poured out tea onto the breakfast cereal. A
England X Reader: Poor Unfortunate Souls Ch. 2England X Reader: Poor Unfortunate Souls Ch. 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"You're Arthur Kirkland?" You murmered, not sure what else to say.
The man released his grip around you, took off his hat, and held it across his chest. He then followed it by bowing slightly.
"The one and only." He said looking up to you and flashing a toothy grin. "I heard you were having troubles."
At that moment, you were sure that this was all just a hallucination. You had just dreamed about the mint colored bunny, the dark forest, and the man that stould infront of you now. In fact, you were probably still under your tree, having fallen asleep under its cozy shaded resting spot. You were dead set that's what had happened.
You shut your eyes as hard as you could, and kept them like that for a moment or two. When you thought it'd be enough to wake you up, you popped them open again. But instead of seeing the bright blue sky with puffy, white, mis-shapen clouds, you saw the scruffy young lad looking at you with his head tipped to the left. You tried closing them even harder, even pi
The Strange Life and Love of Leo Valdez Part 2 The Strange Life and Love of Leo Valdez Part 2The Strange Life and Love of Leo Valdez Part 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Leo had forgotten all about his best friend's birthday, probably the worst mistake he could have made.
He'd left Jason's gift back at the bunker; if he could go get it quickly
He heard a clanking whirring sound behind him and turned to find Buford just behind his cabin. A drawer popped open to reveal the gift.
"Dude," Leo said, "You are the best table in the history of furniture."
Hate Me [ England x Child!Reader ] 02England x Child!ReaderHate Me [ England x Child!Reader ] 023 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
A tiny you, in a tiny world, your eyes only able to see the world around you, outside the window you can see children playing, the birds flying around careless and free. Unaware of your suffering, while the cats and dogs play their usual game.
While tiny you are left all alone. In your little fish bowl that you've now called your home, Arthur has also deemed this tiny bowl your home. Arthur .
The mere thought of the Englishman brought tears to your eyes, one day he would love you, and then the next day it was seemed that he despises you. Does he really hate you that much? Does he despise your existence that much? Does he hate how tiny you are?
Is he afraid to love?
Clutching the fabric of your cloak, crushing the material in your hands you felt tears falling out of your eyes, wait why were you crying? You should hate Arthur! You have every right to hate the Englishman, for the way he's treated you, and how he speaks to you.
Percabeth: What's a Soul Mate?The little girl crept downstairs, her feet barely making a sound against the wood floor. She pushed her blonde locks out of her face, eyes twinkling against the glow from the TV. A man was seated on the couch, watching a movie, but he wasn't really seeing. His eyes were glazed over, too caught up in the past to notice his daughter moving towards him. As quickly as she could, the little girl jumped up on the couch and shook her father's arm roughly, jolting him awake.Percabeth: What's a Soul Mate?3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Daddy! Daddy!" She whispered frantically. Her father blinked once or twice, before reality hit him hard, instincts kicking in immediately.
"What is it? What is it, sweetie? Are you okay? Is mommy okay?" Jason asked, caressing his daughter's cheek before shooting a worried glance towards the stairwell, where the sounds of soft snoring could be heard. He relaxed, taking a deep breath.
"No," His daughter laughed, amused at her father's overreaction. If only she knew the reasons behind his actions. "I wanted to as
HomonymsDarren was carefully pouring a jug of water into his biology textbook.Homonyms1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“What are you doing?” asked Miss Markham.
Darren looked up at his English teacher. “The exams are coming up soon, so I’m pouring over my books.”
Miss Markham sighed. “It’s not ‘pouring’, it’s ‘poring’.” She beckoned to Darren. “Come and take a walk with me, young man. You might learn something.”
Going down the lane, they came across a path leading away from the road. A young woman in a flamboyant white dress and an older man in a morning suit were just about to start hiking down it.
“Ah! Excellent—here’s a good example to begin with,” said Miss Markham to Darren.
She stopped and addressed the girl. “You know, this isn’t a bridal path. It’s a bridle path—for horses and their riders.”
“Oh…” said the bride. “You know, that does make
The Furnish Is EverythingIt was 183 days ago when Minerva Kisling the Yiddish Mentalist first came to my train station. She toured the Neptune-Aries circuit in vaudeville. I had seen her glossy photographs a few times outside of the Easton theater and The Springhouse when she played there, but I never saw her in person. At least, I never saw her until the locomotive that was supposed to be bringing her husband failed to arrive with said husband.The Furnish Is Everything4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As a redcap for the Southwest Lake Station with a half-dozen sisters, I scarcely could afford the ten cents or the time to see a vaudeville show on a regular basis, but the children working near the tracks would put on cheap imitations of the more popular acts in hopes of getting pennies rained on them. They would dab burnt cork on their cheeks, bug out their eyes, and sing or tell jokes. Often they received the most money when they stopped singing and went back to carrying bags. What the children failed to re-enact, they retold to me on slower days. I was more than pr
AskTheArtist InterviewInterview with *JonasDeRo 11/11/12AskTheArtist Interview3 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
<thefluffyshrimp> Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is ~thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview *JonasDeRo, a very talented artist and creator of many well-known works on deviantART.
<thefluffyshrimp> Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, JonasDeRo.
<JonasDeRo> Hello all, the pleasure is all mine!
<thefluffyshrimp> ~Fisharto asks "Without sharing too much of your ways to making environments how do you come up with ideas for painting?"
<JonasDeRo> Hello Fisharto, good question!
<JonasDeRo> I would say my main source of inspiration is traveling. I love painting but I love to travel even more; seeing cities, towns, nature really inspires me in the first
How To RememberI have no advice that was handed down to me from sage lips, or dying maternal grandparents. I don't know how to deal with neurotic night time episodes where if I listen closely, I swear I can hear farmers in their fields after midnight, shooting gophers when I don't live anywhere near a field. My window is a cavernous maw, opened wide to swallow my tousled head and suck the garbage of dreams from my soul. On those evenings, I can not look outside.How To Remember4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Insomnia has always wrapped its icy fingers around my limbs and tugged at me, one way, then another, ever since I can recall the need for sleep. It is like breathing, or eating, to me. It is commonplace. I am trapped in a web delicately touched with morning dew, my eyes rimmed with black, sunken, every morning because I am literally devoured whole by my past in my dreams. After closing my eyes, I sometimes find myself back in a tiny flat over a chocolate and pastry shop, living with my older boyfriend, tripping at three in the afternoon on la
1: Beauty and the BeastHe sees her huddled near the side of the road, the hood of her tattered brown cloak pulled tightly around her wrinkled face.1: Beauty and the Beast4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She rises to her feet as he nears on horseback, her tiny frame hunched over, a crooked wooden cane clutched in her weathered hand.
"Won't you buy a rose, my lord?" She asks, her voice a low cackle that crawls over his skin.
He glares down into her white eyes, the eyes of a blind woman, and the stench of sickness reaches his nose. Her hood falls back from her face, revealing her blistered lips and her ashen skin, marred with the spots of disease.
"Get away from me, peasant." He shouts, disgusted.
She bends one crooked arm and reaches into her basket, pulling out a long stemmed rose, the bud shriveled and black, the petals dry and brittle.
"Please, my lord," she begs, her eyes brimming with tears. "I am but a poor and hungry old woman, with no home or family to speak of."
She lifts the rose towards him, ambling closer, when suddenly she trips and stumbles into t