Brincando com boneca - English versionBrincando com boneca - English version2 years ago in Settings More Like This
Yes, I am a teenage girl Yes, I am a teenage girlYes, I am a teenage girl2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, I don't squeal over One Direction
No, I don't wear mini skirts
No, I don't curl my hair everyday
No, I don't need my phone 24/7
Yes, I am a teenage girl
Yes, I prefer Edward Scissorhands over Edward Cullen
Yes, I like violent video games
Yes, I like action movies
Yes, I listen to Rock
Yes, I am a teenage girl
No, I don't draw hearts all over my homework
No, I don't spend 20 minutes trying to make myself resemble a porcelain doll
No, I'm not afraid to cry
No, I don't party every weekend
Yes, I am a teenage girl
Yes, I hate reality shows
Yes, my hair is short and messy
Yes, I'd rather walk in the woods
Yes, I am okay with mice
Yes, I am a teenage girl
Yes, I'm different
Yes, I'm strange
Yes, I'm my own person
Why is that bad?
Why do you hate me for that?
Why can't I just be myself without your criticism?
Why is it horrible if I'm not just like you?
I don't have a problem with it
Maybe the problem
Semi-Detached.Semi-Detached.Semi-Detached.2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She was very sensitive.
As if the volume was turned up in her head.
She started using her mother’s sedatives,
As a solution for her sleepless nights in bed.
She couldn’t connect with any of her relatives,
They never showed an interest in anything she said.
Her attempts at socialising were tentative,
So she conjured up imaginary friends instead.
Her dogged detachment was her only imperative.
She could not risk the chance of being misled.
There was no one to peel back the layer of negatives.
Too many years of tears have been bred and shed.
The smile she occasionally displayed was purely decorative.
She knows people will judge her before they have even read
Her story because they’re too caught up in their own narrative.
They only take the time to read your book once you are dead.
They say we’re born alone and die alone.
As humans we are built to survive and consume.
Even if you are raised from a loving home.
You can still feel out of place in your ow
Rambling on TonyThe Unholy Incarnation of Gluttony (Tony, for short) has been more or less benignly wandering the Network for nearly four hundred years, carefully controlled by its host and master, the kindly Eric Thedrial.Rambling on Tony2 years ago in Profiles More Like This
What IS Tony, exactly? Despite rumors and poetic phrasing, Tony is NOT a demonic entity representing a deadly sin, it is not actually even a separate being from Eric. Psychologically, Tony's what you get when you inhibit everything in the human mind save the powerful animal impulse to eat stuff. Religion/demons/sins really have nothing to do with Tony.
Tony is the result of a morality curse, meant to demonstrate to the once spoiled Lord Thedrial the essence of his greed by removing entirely his human willpower and control over base instincts (which he was so poorly exercising anyway) transforming him for periods into a destructive, self-destructive, mindless and mortifying mass of monster. And then returning him to human form to think about what he'd done.
Tony is largely a metapho
It's a Curse: Notes on Eric ThedrialSo. I feel like Eric's up there with Tom as a character who comes with a lot of technical baggage I've never publically unpacked. Read on for a tale of god-complexes, monstrous curses, hunts and rampages, massive abuse of the ageing process, and history's worst case of polyphagia.It's a Curse: Notes on Eric Thedrial4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Welcome back to the Network, a world made of worlds connected, when not by simple geography, then by dimension-puncturing portals. We're going somewhere we haven't been before. The land is Nimisia, the year is, by our calendar, 1611. Gammon is a prosperous little city-state amidst a mess of prosperous little city-states and if rolling countryside, charming forests, and sparkling lakes are your thing, this is a peachy place. Well. If you aren't a peasant. We are in a time of serfs and lords.
If you are landed gentry however, sunny are your skies, green are your horizons, your cup floweth over. You live in a palace with colorful flags and people who take care of things and are generally free to socialize
will you ever learn to love yourselfshe was deadwill you ever learn to love yourself2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
before she hit the ground
frazzled & 60 percent water
or whatever you call them
brimming on the bus & never
haven’t you ever seen clouds before?’
she threw a handful of stones
sinking like balloons
a hungry ghost
tracing the outline
of a breaking surface
That Kind of LoveI want your teardrops.That Kind of Love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Those ones that taste of love and beauty.
The tears that fall on skin like his.
Because the only drops that fall on my sheets
Are laden down with sorrow.
Holmes and Watson - HurtCracked ribs, fractured jaw, broken nose, several bruises, possible internal bleeding. Fantastic.Holmes and Watson - Hurt6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Watson had known Holmes for years, and yet it never seized amaze him how this man deliberately sought out violent encounters. He sighed, and grabbed a cloth and some disinfectant from the side table. Dampening the cloth with the disinfectant, he moved to cleanse his friend's wounds.
Holmes hissed when he brushed the cloth over a rather large gash in his abdomen. Watson glanced at him, and moved to examine the cut that was quite clearly
"A knife wound? Holmes, you told me it was a fist fight!"
"Fists, knives, cannons! What difference does it make? The bottom line is, I am injured and in need of your expert skills as a doctor." Holmes paused to take a breath. "Besides, I knew that if you knew what I was doing, you would have made a scene."
"Made a scene?" Watson huffed. "When have I ever made a scene?"
"You're making one right now, old friend," Holmes pointed out casually.
FrostI am devouring chaos,Frost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
chasing it down with winter's chill.
Spare me your fingerprints,
summer's lovechild. Those knowing owl eyes
have me second guessing the wild churning
in my bones. You are the sleep that sweeps
my eyelashes, drowning me in my own daydreams.
When was it...
that you plastered yourself to my ribcage?
Vanilla ch. 12VanillaVanilla ch. 124 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The meeting was loud. The two Soldiers, Medics, RED Scout, BLU Sniper and Spy met up, where each told what they saw. Alfons and Scout alone convinced the RED Soldier that it was true.
The two Soldiers looked sick, and examined the scars on the BLU Medic.
"Poor guy... You feelin' okay?" RED Soldier said, patting the younger Medic on the head. The young German nodded, smiling softly.
"Vhat are we to do vizh zhe RED Spy? He is clearly unfit to be serving vizh us, if he does zhis to Herr Medic..." RED Medic said, taking his own look at the younger man. He ruffled the man's black hair, pushing him gently to his own team.
"'S not like we can beat him or nothin'.... Th' sicko'd enjoy that!" Scout chirrped up.
"We could.... Lock him up. Bozh bases have cells, do zhey not?" The BLU Spy said, lazily smoking a cigarette. His eyes darted over to the RED Medic, and turned sad when the blond looked his way.
The two Soldiers huddled and talked, then nodded.
"We'll keep him in our base.
My strange friendMy friend asked me an odd,My strange friend4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
odd, question today,
while we were walking
through the dying grass,
in the field on the west end
of the forrest-like park,
that is across the street
from my house.
He asked me this:
"If you were to die tomorrow,
and you could only say goodbye
to one person,
who would you say goodbye to?"
And I looked at him,
my odd friend,
with his odd questions.
I answered by saying:
"I don't know, but I think,
I would say goodbye to you.
Do you want to know why?"
He replied with an answer
that I found strange:
"Yes, but don't tell me.
I'd rather tell you
who I would pick."
Then he just plopped down,
onto the grass
right next to me,
So, I had to cool my
and join him.
Then he leans over,
in the traditional kindergarten style
of secret telling,
Now I lay in the darkness
of my bedroom
that I will see my strange friend
And I hope I can tell him
why I picked him.
Untame PrologueUntame Prologue2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
So let me warn you all first, I am NOT a writer so I am NOT looking for a critique on this. I simply wrote this so you all could see what happened before North and Arc ended up about to be attacked by a giant monster thinger ~ Plus I already had my friend FJ fix up any errors that needed to be fixed x3, thank you <333
Today was going to be an interesting day, this was the day that Knights become High Knights and claim their Spirit Guide aka Navigator. Once a High Knights Navigator is summoned, it's supposed to lead them to their 'Monster' or 'Battle Pet' if you will. If the High Knight is successful in capturing his Monster a bond is created and they will battle together in order to protect the kingdom.
North frowned; in his opinion he didn't need a monster, he was a Master Swordsman who was perfectly capable of protecting himself and his kingdom. However his opinion didn't matter in this sort of situation - it was a must to claim your monster, the
Your Body Cried CrimsonYour Body Cried CrimsonYour Body Cried Crimson2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Behind the pretty words hides a mouth of razor fangs
Quite frankly, I'm completely deranged.
So few know what lurks in my mind
What nightmare places exist for you to find.
At times I picture kissing your lips
All the while my knife slips
Into your innards and rips
Away your trust.
Stacked behind the allure of my pale eyes
Are rows and rows of myself in disguise.
The masks I wear to convince you that you're safe
Alone, you realize you're the victim I've raped.
I took away your innermost emotions
And placed them within the hands of my devotion.
Now you're trapped in my toxic web
I swallow you and you sink like lead
To the bottom of my heart.
The way I love is violent at best.
For instance, I'd like to tear your heart from your chest
And drink away the nectar of your affection.
Your body, subject to my dissection.
In this game, only I will win.
My tongue is dripping your blood and sin,
Drop by drop it sprays away
And from you, your life I take
Three Billy Goats GruffGoats outwit a troll.Three Billy Goats Gruff2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
SnakebiteThe Assassin rolled down the sloped shingled roof and went right over the edge. The Borgia gunman followed, smiling in triumph under the closed-faced helmet he wore. The Assassin grabbed the rain trough running alongside the roof edge and tried to swing back up to the roof but too late. The Borgia gunman was already there, treading on his fingers. His gun was pointed at the Assassin's head. Ezio gritted his teeth in pain. The Drachen armour dragged his whole body downwards. He panted consciously willing himself upwards.Snakebite4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Well, Assassino, here it all ends," the gunman gloated. "Once I blow your head off, my Lord's troubles will be over."
Ezio could never for the life of him understand why the higher ranking Borgia commanders always felt this need to rejoice when the Assassino was still very much alive. Volpe had tried to explain it to him once but Ezio had still not understood. It had something to do with small men and inflated egos.
The dangling Assassin, biting his lip in pain, manage
Honey Badger -Andley---Andy POV--Honey Badger -Andley-4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It's too hot in LA; it's got to be at least a million degrees or something. Why the fuck haven't I moved from this cramped-ass space? I'm sure if I sat under that tree over there, I'd still have a perfect view and a bit more shade than in a bush. But then he might see me. Would I really be that visible from a tree? Probably. The sun virtually makes everything stand out ten times more, and I stand out anyway, and thats just in a crowd. If I was alone, without 100 or so people around me, with the sun beating down, I'm pretty sure I'd stand out. Maybe he'd think I'm a dog? Wait, no, of course not, no dog looks like a hybrid between a spider, a gazelle and a... fluffy haired... thing. Thanks to the damn humidity, my hair's fluffy as crap, which makes it so much easier to sta- oh crap, I have to sneeze. He's gonna hear me sneeze! He'll figure out I've been watching him sunbathe for the past hour and hate me. Oh God, not now. He's freaking glistening in the heat, I
Shit.Shit.Shit.2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I unintentionally use it almost every day.
In a sudden hiccup, I slip up and it slips out.
Even when I can’t think of anything else to say.
You can bet beyond a shadow of a doubt.
That exact word will seep and creep out.
It makes its way into any given conversation.
It’s probably the most used default abbreviation.
It requires no effort and rolls out with no hesitation.
It’s so universal it can be suited to every situation.
In an upsurge it will emerge with no indication.
How can one word have so many definitions.
And still have the same effect despite its repetition.
How can this same word blur all the lines of divisions.
Between polite pleasantries to abusive abrasions of affliction.
How can the tone and meaning change after every rendition.
This word sounds exactly like what it means.
You scream it, shout it and even mutter it under your breath.
No matter how big or little the occasion may seem.
Just unleashing it will take a load off your chest.
You say it w
The Avengers - Hulkeye request - First DateThe Avengers - Hulkeye request - First Date2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Clint was sitting at the table in the kitchen, idly playing with his mug. Things were not going smoothly for him. He felt like he was tightrope walking without a safety net underneath. Okay, maybe it was a bad metaphor, growing up in the circus, he was able to do that in his sleep. But it was now, and at this specific moment he was remembering the first time when he was taught how to do that, when he was a little boy. How his stomach had clenched, heart was pounding, and every muscle went stiff, screaming in protest to not do that, while he was looking down, thinking how high it was. In this moment, he felt even worse.
Some time ago he realized that he has feelings for Bruce. It took a while, as the doctor was a shy, discreet person, and mostly he spent his free time in his lab or reading books, and Clint didn't get to see a lot of him, but all of this was even more appealing to him. Archer wanted to start this gently, to maybe feel if Bruce likes him back. He started to hang out with
Laundry Day--the ficLaundry Day--the fic9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The sun was shining, the birds were singing and every Civvie for seven blocks knew to keep a good ten foot distance between themselves and Jak.
Seems like any ol' day in the life of Haven's two least respected (and only) heroes, right? Well, actually, the people of the Haven had a fairly good reason to shun the blonde and his Ottsel this morning.
The pair had just gotten back from a mission in the sewers.
Needless to say, they were smelling…a little ripe at the moment.
"I need a bath," Daxter announced (whined) loudly from his pouting spot atop Jak's shoulder guard. "I smell like…dear 'cursor's, I don't wanna know what I smell like."
"We could head over to the Baron's fountains," Jak suggested absently as he scouted the skies for a zoomer he preferred.
Daxter opened his furry trap to answer but his reply was cut short as Jak's comm. burst from the confines of the hero's clothing and began to hover around in the air. "Jak," came Torn's smoking-damaged voice. "We need yo
Ramblings of Un-CreativityHey you,Ramblings of Un-Creativity4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's 3AM and I love you. I've loved you from the day I met you, for the first time in the loop of the blistering summer haze of our childhood. In three years maybe it'll be even more, maybe it would be the same, maybe God forbid- even less, but I'll still love you.
I love your laugh. I love your smile. I love your voice. I love the dimple in your cheek and the curve of your jaw when it fits into my palm. I love your face in general.
I love the fact that you're able to reduce me to incoherence. I love the fact that you take pride in knowing just which buttons to corral me down near a rocky crevice, one step away from launching an avalanche. Am I masochist for liking it, because I love you enough to trust you to be able to keep me grounded? Because I have faith that I could be suspended thousands of miles above ground on a taut rope stretched across the galaxy, but as long as I know you're there I would be safe?
I love how I can imagine you reading this right now. I love t
Writer's Block SonnetHer feet are wearing holes in the carpetWriter's Block Sonnet3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
While she paces 'round and 'round with a scowl
Apparently her book gives her a fit
And no one dares to talk to her at all
Her fists are clenched and waving through the air
Making gestures no one can understand
She has been pacing several hours there
Immersed in some issue that is at hand
Her eyes stare off into some unseen world
As if she is squinting at a wet page
The ink has run and everything is blurred
Her eyes too tired to read it in her rage
But then! some idea strikes her at last
I never knew that she could run so fast.