For Draco Malfoy Lovers - 2011For Draco Malfoy Lovers - 20113 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
________ Means your first name
~~~~~~ Means your last name
As you headed towards your potions class, you couldn't help but feel really gloomy. You hated potions, as Professor Snape absolutely loathed you, and always tried to find random excuses to give you a detention. Also you had to sit next to it. Yes, that's right it. Draco Malfoy, the meanest boy you had ever met. The weird thing was even though he bullied you, you sort of had a crush on him, crazy right?
There was just something about him that made you melt inside whenever you say him. Maybe it was the way his cold, grey eyes bored into yours. Or maybe it was the cute smirk he wore on his face. Who knows?
"Hey _________," Ron greeted as you reached the potions class.
Everyone was standing outside the classroom door, shivering slightly as they waited for Professor Snape to usher them all inside.
"Hey Ron," You replied, flashing a grin and waving at Harry and Hermione, who
LandlockedLandlocked2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You told me not to lose myself in these monsoon-moods, but the winds backed to westerlies and caught me up in their currents; the ebb and flow of these atmospheric tides may yet turn my bones to gypsum-dunes, fated to crawl across dry land forever in search of the sea.
Smokingi've decided to breathe poison.Smoking2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i don't like the way it tastes,
the bitter stain on my tongue
or the telling smell that sticks to my hair
i like the way it feels
lighting one cigarette with another,
ash falling to the damp earth,
melting in to nutrient-rich soil for the plants to eat
i control how deep
the smoke buries itself in my lungs
but not how long it settles there
and i enjoy the hazy
silhouette of euphoria
that comes with each grey exhale.
Draco's Sunshine- Part 1Draco's Sunshine- Part 14 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I ran down Hogwarts corridors trying not to be late to Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. My Slytherin robe was racing behind me along with my new ghost friend, Vladimir.
"You have exactly 7 seconds to get to class!" He yelled at me. So I hauled butt down the hall and finally made it to Snape's. I breathed out in relief and turned to Vladimir and smiled.
"Thanks..." I breathed out quietly. He waved and floated down the hall. I turn back to the classroom and saw Harry Potter's seat was taken. Darn...I really liked him too...but I turned my head a little to see a Slytherin robe. It was none other than the evil Draco Malfoy. Ugh, he was so cruel to everyone. But it was the only seat open, so I stormed towards Draco's neighbor seat and sat down, kind of like Hermione Granger does. Draco jumped and opened his mouth to speak but said nothing.
"Oh...it's you..." He said in a monotone voice. I rolled my eyes and looked to the board to see Professor Snape staring at me. Oh boy...
Torn Pt 1 - DramioneTorn Pt 1 - Dramione5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
She grasped the door handle tight while taking a sharp breath. Her eyes widened while she covered her mouth. She shook her head while she felt the tears slowly coming. She had sworn to never cry over the boy again. He had promised this would never happen. Why? Why had she trusted him? She closed the door as she bit her lip. One tear slid down her pail skin as she spun around and ran. She didn't care if she would get in trouble for being up so late. She just wanted to get away from him.
Draco lazily flicked his hair back and leaned against the wall. Truth be told he was alittle frightened. Petrifide really. Some how Pansy had gained access into his room and he was worried about what she left in there. There were countless spells she could use to spy on him. He ran his fingers though his hair while trying to figure out where to sleep. Like hell he was going in there without bodyguards. Well if he wasn't sleeping tonight he was better off exploring. He couldn't really care less if he
The Origin of GodThe universe began with a thought.The Origin of God2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
The greatest tragedy of the human condition is, sometimes limited, awereness of our own faults, coupled with the inherent inability to overcome any of them. The truth is - we are programmed to be this way, and everything can be reprogrammed. It is a matter of genetic imprints, and they can either be changed by milennia of forced feeding of information - psychological conditioning, if you will - or by a simple thought.
Have you ever had a horrible toothache? Have you ever tried telling your tooth, via your brain, to shut down the nerves in your jaw so you can get some sleep? It works. So, why wouldn't it work with other manifestations of pain? Existence is the ultimate form of pain, from which all other forms derive. The abilities of the greatest tool we have at our disposal - our brain - are not just in the realm of basic impulses such as "I need to feed", but that is what we have been lead to believe thus using only a miniscule percent of its potenti
ResurgenceWith these words, I consume the world.Resurgence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A fire bursts out in every forest;
a drought parches every pasture;
a stillness pervades all bodies of water.
The Earth halts for the winds of death.
A fire bursts out in every city;
a plague ravages every nation;
a famine starves all of civilization.
Conflict envelops the bastions of peace.
A fire bursts out in every heart;
a parasite eats away at every mind;
a blindness drives all men mad.
The world burns
before it turns,
and the blight
before the light.
The people cry
before our eyes,
and the death
before the breath.
With these words, I give hope.
A light shines in every soul;
an evil flees from every kind word;
a simple act breeds all joy.
The Earth moves for us.
A veil lifts from every perception;
a fog disperses from every land;
a resurgence born from all remaining strength.
The world learns
before it burns,
and the light
before the blight.
The people rise
before our cries,
and the breath
before the death.
With these words, I consume the wor
The Wailing: TeaserPart I: The SirensThe Wailing: Teaser2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The sound of the sirens is what has stayed with me. I remember the explosions, the engines of the Messerschmitts, the screams of men trapped beneath the rubble. Of course I do. But it is the wail of the sirens that yet haunts my dreams, settles that same cold sickness in my gut, that same cold slickness on my palms. It is the banshee shriek of coming death.
The night was cold and clear when that sound prickled along my arms like so many icy fingers reaching out from behind the drapes.
Rowan stilled her hands at the typewriter and ripped the sheet from the machine, lest some unscrupulous eye should take advantage of her temporary absence. She snatched up a grey cardigan, a torch, and the requisite gas mask, and had nearly gotten to the door before she turned back to look at me. Her dark eyes were as empty as ever.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked as she stuck one arm into a cardigan sleeve.
‘I’ll follow later,’ I said. ‘
UncleMy earliest memoriesUncle10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of my sister Rebecca
were wrestling on my parents bed.
At the time I was taking Judo
so my sister was normally the one
13 years ago
my sister experienced problems
The doctor told us it was either
my sister or the baby to survive.
That was the day I lost my sister
and received my daughter in law,
also named Rebecca,
who Rebecca said I should raise
along with my wife Courtney.
For 13 years Rebecca thought
I was her father
until Courtney told her the truth
on her 13th birthday.
13 years ago I lost my sister.
“Is it true you’re my uncle” she asked
“I guess so” i replied “but…”
“Yay, I have an uncle!”
“Rebecca please stop”
“Why are you crying uncle?”
“Rebecca for the love of God please stop calling me uncle. Please”
Untitled (part one) They first met in a park. It was summer and people swarmed there to walk their dogs or have picnics or just sit in the sun. It was a city park with grass, a small lake and evil geese (not that there’s any other kind of geese). The North Wind wasn’t sure how she’d ended up there, but it seemed right, so she settled down to wait.Untitled (part one)1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She first noticed the human girl’s aura. It made her stand out among the fairly mundane pinks and greens. They looked almost pastel next to the brightness of hers. It swirled around her like a blizzard, icy blue and white with brilliant sparks of silver.
The second thing the North Wind noticed about her was her hair. It was short, curly and a startling shade of blue, the likes of which she’d never seen on hair before. The human was sitting on a splintery, wooden park bench reading an awfully thick book.
She walked over, feigning a casual stroll. Inside she was conflicted and nervous. What do people say when t
My Crossdressing God-dessToday you are a girl,My Crossdressing God-dess5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So you stuff your sister's bra,
3 tissue boxes are casualties,
In your crusade for beauty.
As you apply lipstick,
In front of our cracking mirror,
I mention that this is the 5th time this week,
You've paraded yourself in miniskirts and hooped earrings,
And I wouldn't mind normally,
Perfume has begun to smell like gunpowder.
Today you are a boy,
So you dust off your abandoned wifebeater,
And rub your ignored adam's apple gingerly.
As you apply shaving cream,
In front of our cracking mirror,
I mention that your unnaturally deepened voice,
Sounds like a bad imitation,
Of a butterfly wearing bear claws.
You reply in a whisper,
"Butterflies aren't as ugly as me,"
And my heartstrings are played like an orchestra.
I hold you tighter than usual,
And run kisses over your waterproof mascara from yesterday.
I say to you,
"I wish I could be your cocoon,"
And those pools of confused blue,
Seem to still themselves,
You press your body more openly against mine.
ASKtheARTIST InterviewASKtheARTIST Interview2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
ASKtheARTIST Interview with algenpfleger
Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is *thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview *algenpfleger, a very talented illustrator and creator of many well-known works on deviantART.
Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, algenpfleger.
*quietly sits down and sips on a mysterious beverage
WAIT ARE WE DOING THIS OR WHAT
*Vellez asks "What is your creative process? Do you just research and then begin drawing when you get an assignment, or do you mull it over a bit?"
Hmm it usually starts with me getting the assignment since I spend my freetime drawing other things mostly (these days at least). As soon as I know what the client wants, I leave it alone for a couple of days and wait for ideas to sprout in my head. The rest is just craftsmanship, you know, drawing the stuff and everything. The real work is done as soon as I put down the thumbnail sketch.
~smarff asks "How saturated do you think the illustra
Waking dead.If Death be sweet saviour and remorseWaking dead.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a psychopomp, midwife to the passing,
Thanatos, Ankou, Yama, Memitim, Hypnos,
save me to rest and to sleep
take me in deep
in soft, make this all in my head
to where my friends and my
family, my father
"sweet death, you are the only god
Who comes as a servant when he is called"
So here I am, a lullaby leaving my lips in
the form of a cry of a whistle
in hopes an answer of
sweet serenity will greet
dear mia,the other nightdear mia,2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i caught you with fingers so far
down your throat
they choked you from the inside
your closed fists
formed snail shell spirals
at your sides
and the tears in your eyes
told the story you wouldn’t tell
and i already knew.
not trusting me enough
to say the truth.
you tear me apart.
9729 kilometers away, to be exact.i have these bones like flowers-9729 kilometers away, to be exact.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fragile and finely plucked,
these lily stargazers
are kissing ocean beds,
making love to sirens
for a taste of her
i want to tape maps to my limbs-
throw caution to the wind
as i gather up
every love letter receipt,
from every false attempt
i ever wrote her
& forget for just a moment
that even still
she does not love me.
WriterI am a scientist;Writer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pinning down ideas
preserving them in
their fragile beauty
as I take away their freedom,
I am a parasite;
sucking the soul out
of music and leaving it
a hollow shell
that plays like
the noisy silence in
I am a thief;
taking what is not mine,
the world around me,
and pouring it into
a mould that
I claim is
I am a blasphemer;
playing God in a
sacred place, changing
the world to my
liking when the orchestra
is not under my
I am a liar;
selling false havens
to lonely runaways,
giving them a glimpse
of a world more glamorous,
more fantastic than their own,
smiling as I snatch it
from under their noses
while they thank me
for my crime.
I am a slave;
hanging in a
with the language I choose,
caving to its rules
when I draw in
smears of its
I am a writer
these are my vices.
BlessingMy father strangled a birdBlessing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
quietly, calm as gravity,
there in the garden. He bent
as if praying to the torqued wing
reddening his hand.
The night hunkered down on the screaming
wildness, on the kicking legs, the abrupt
and awe-filled silence. I watched him
watch the beak open, close,
like rippling lake water.
I loved him, the mercy
of his heavy knuckles, the kindly
He closed the beak like a priest
closes the eyes.
The Stick PeopleIn a town called Rushing Water, there lived a woodcarver with no face.The Stick People2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When we were small, my brothers and I, Daddy would sometimes take us to visit her. We would sit there at her kitchen table, amazed, as this woman with no eyes – and indeed no nose or mouth – would pour out our tea without spilling a drop.
I was frightened of her because she looked so strange, so grotesque. All the other days of my life, I encountered people with faces – square faces, oval faces, faces round and smiling like the moon with slanted eyes or big dark ones or little beady bird eyes. Snub noses, Romans or long, thin, birdlike ones like mine. Yet here was a woman with none of that or any of the faculties that come with those organs.
As a little girl, I dreaded our visits to the faceless woodcarver. But now that I've grown up I miss most all the memories of my childhood, even the somewhat unpleasant ones, so I sometimes let them wander through my mind even when they aren't invited. So I remember the woodcarv
The Princess Of The NorthThe Princess Of The NorthThe Princess Of The North2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She was a Princess
of the North,
A war it came
and she was lost
She was enslaved,
She was forced,
They dressed her red
And she was sold.
He was a son,
down, from South,
With light heart
and shy mouth
He never searched,
yet now he found,
Their eyes met
a night around.
They hide in darkness,
She's in Love,
He didn't think
Of what's above
She was a slave
and masters ask
to pay with gold,
to pay for lust.
He was no warrior,
No sword in hand
and no courage
yet to stand.
They'll meet again,
Two elders pay
For him, her goods
They'll meet again,
Two elders pay
For him, her goods.
the elders go,
no passion's flaw
But he is young,
with light heart,
He likes her,
but not so hard
But she is young,
with heavy heart,
She keeps some gold,
She's calling him
and there he's back,
Eyes are meeting
in the dark
But he's young
With light heart,
He's hiding words,
He keeps apart
He makes thoughts
of Love and go
TwoProsper grumpily banged his feet against the solid wood of the examination table he was sitting atop. He knew his mother was ignoring him, and, even worse, not even bothering to hide it, sitting across the room reading one of the many magazines that where piled on the small tables. He hated going to the doctor. Dr. Knowles always ruffled his hair too hard and talked too loud. If he told Prosper that he had to get a shot he was going to run for it. Stubbornly continuing to glare at his oblivious mother, he clenched his fingers around the edges of the table and waited for the stupid doctor to come in.Two4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
However, when the door finally did open, instead of seeing the large, obnoxious, slightly balding old man that he had come to expect, he was faced with- unexpectedly- the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with long brown hair and a pretty face.
"Hey there, Prosper," she said with a smile that lit up her face, "I'm Jane. Dr. Knowles is on vacation right now, so I'm going to be helping y
Hades and PersephoneThe king of the underworldHades and Persephone4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
The daughter of life
His eyes dark cold and icy
Hers light and airy
Light flickers through
Enhancing her innocence
Darkness surrounds him
Shielding his heart
What happens when these two cross?
The king of death and the daughter of life
Does she wither and wait
to accept her fate
or does she warm his shielded heart?
What happens when these two fall in love?
Can happiness reside where light cannot?
or will it slowly flicker away until it is no more
and give into the darkness around her?
They say even the smallest bit of light
Will shine in the darkness
Until it finally gives in
and flickers away
So what will happen
When she finally gives up
and fades away
Will he want her then?
or toss her away?
No one knows
Not one can say
What will happen
When the daughter of life
Design a country work sheetDesign a country work sheet4 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