What am I doing wrong? A guide to character designHello again, lovelies.What am I doing wrong? A guide to character design3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Now, I have noticed that there seem to be a lot of design conflicts on the site regarding that someone has *le gasp!* copied your character. Oh, the humanity! How dare they?! How dare they also have a character set who are only black, white, and red because that makes them so deep and edgy. How dare their animal also have a star/heart/diamond on its forehead? How dare they make a character with rainbow legs/tails?! How dare they have a fursona with a "dark" side when they become enraged? How dare their sparkle fursona be black with lime green, hot pink, and cyan markings?! How. Fucking. Dare. They?!
So, you call them out on their obvious theft of your character, and then things get spicy. You get barraged by an army of white knights. You send your white knights after their white knights. Then, when all that is going on, you get a nice, big taste of "trolling" because you're all probably worked up and obsessi
Volleyball with SportsmanshipPops did not enter the swimming nor surfing competitions for the Toy-lympics. Between the threat of rusting, sinking to the bottom, or electrocuting himself with his light-bulb, the toy oven decided any event revolving around water was not for him. Even so he came to Cora Blue pumped and determined to help his area win. He brought a giant green flag with the word “Willowoods” written on it, and a few smaller ones as backup. If he couldn’t swim, he could at least cheer for his comrades. Besides, if he could find a team, he could participate in the volleyball tournament later.Volleyball with Sportsmanship2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Unfortunately, the first event he witnessed was Florence almost drown. Even less fortunately he then watched Rawk perform CPR on the pilot. No, no, that wasn’t right. Pops couldn’t watch. He couldn’t even look. This was surfacing memories that needed to stay buried. For a final nail on the head, Ciel began howling in laughter.
This couldn’t possibly last forever.
But it did
MW - Death's ChildrenTis a drabble, and that title is far too intense for its quality, but it seemed marginally better than calling it "Michael's Babies" that was pretty tempting, though xDMW - Death's Children5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Indent, please, for the love of your eyes!
Hong Kong, 1962
He rose up from the warm, wet concrete. At his feet squealed a young dog, pallid in colour save for her swollen, blackened teats. He wondered how many pups were curled dying within her as she breathed her last. The cab driver who had hit her stopped briefly enough to acknowledge her, then drove on. There were more than enough mongrel dogs on the streets to replace both her and her unborn litter.
He waited patiently for the dog's yelps to subside to whimpers, and then, mercifully, her breath gave out. He stepped around her, crossing the street, fascinated by the way the muggy air carried the luminous orange of the streetlights. The glow appeared to be captured and diffused by the moisture, in much the same way the coloured lights
SlendermanSlenderman3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She promised herself she wouldn't do this, she promised. She thought these things
as she cried, curled up, her knees tucked to her chest, sitting in the middle of the
forest that lied behind the school yard.
She hated crying. She hated the burn and sting of her eyes and throat. She hated
the wet, sticky feel of her face. She took in a gulp of air, feeling it cool her whole
Why didn't they like her? Why were they so horrible to her? She wasn't a bad
person. She did her work and never argued with anyone. Yet somehow they never ceased
wanting to torment her. They pulled on her long curly hair and mocked how short she was.
They even made fun of the way she talked or the things she said. She just didn't
She took advice from friends, most of which were older then her. She tried
ignoring them. She tried shooting back comments; she even tried telling the teacher. Not
a single thing worked.
She curled up even tighter, feeling worthless, and miserable. She wanted to
Raptor Jesus' Bible.In the Beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth. And we all know the story from there.Raptor Jesus' Bible.6 years ago in Humor More Like This
In the Period of Cretaceous, God grew distasteful of the Dinosaurs' wicked ways. (Actually, after a few billion years He was royally Bored and wanted to screw with the most intelligent life-forms available at the time.) So he descended unto a Virgin Raptor and made her lay a single egg.
This was long before anyone ever figured out the connection between mating and babies, so no one really gave a damn.
God commanded the virgin raptor to name her son Jesus. And so she did.
Jesus hatched, and his hatching was marked by a volcano erupting and wiping out the nests of nearly all other raptors. When He realized this, he promptly ran away and wandered in the desert, living a raptory life for 18 years, until he turned 32.
Raptor Jesus returned, gathering Thirteen followers of all species, and they wandered around doing stuff, fighting evil, and saving Prostisaurs. (That's their story and their stickin
MW - A Quiet SongA Quiet SongMW - A Quiet Song4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'You know what?' Angus announced candidly, entering the kitchen in his underwear. 'Just now, just now I've got it. I've figured it out.'
Fletcher blinked at him from the table, one hand on his coffee and the other sporting a pen poised over yesterday's crossword.
'You ' he frowned. 'What'd you figure out?'
Angus crossed his arms, raised his chin and regarded Fletcher piercingly.
'I've figured out what my problem is. My current problem. Lord knows I've' he stopped, his posture growing limp. He fiddled with his earring, looking sidelong out the window. 'Allow me to be more human than people tend to like for a moment here,' Angus continued with forced dryness. 'I'm a little hurt you've not seemed to notice something's been upsetting me. But perhaps you have and you've not said anything, possibly because you were afraid you were the culprit. That would be a bit silly of you were that the case, because in that instance you exacerbate things by ignoring me
The battle For Axcinia University//there is a sullen breeze over a bloodstained battlefield. The air thick with the stench of corpses slowly rotting away. Flies buzz around the masses of dead. However two stand alone; Bambi and Stories. Their bodies bruised and bleeding from the aftermath of the battle with DeviantArt chat servers. But through their tears swear and blood they truly realize... they won.The battle For Axcinia University3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
//but what was this? The corpses that lay scattered among the shrapnel of fights previous slowly started to lift, their mangled limbs rising and their jaws unhinging as they let out... cheers? Yes, cheers- applaud erupted from the wounded soldiers of past battles- of past hatred, anger, and heartbreak as they rooted for the sweet victory of the two left standing alone to look over their gruesome victory in peace.
//but hark, perhaps their celebration was too soon. As the tangled masses gruesomely rose from their final resting spots, dark magic only demons could have ever performed the think mist parted
We're Bonded.我々は団結であり、We're Bonded.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
[Wareware wa danketsudeari,
ketsueki ni yotte,
namida, ase de,
watashitachiha seikatsu no sasaina koto de,
mitashita ōkina unmei ni.
Wareware wa, hontō no kazoku no yō ni, issho ni setchaku sa rete iru. ]
.:What Am I Becoming?:.What Am I Becoming?.:What Am I Becoming?:.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes I think
I might be falling too hard for you
Sometimes I catch myself
Thinking of you
Am I becoming
Sometimes I think
That you're taking over my mind
Oftentimes I catch myself
Talking about you
Am I becoming
Sometimes I think
That you're only mine
More often than not I catch myself
Wishing death on anyone within
Ten-foot radius of you
Am I becoming
Sometimes I think
That I can't be near you long enough
Frequently I catch myself
Wanting to see you
Every minute of every day
Am I becoming
Sometimes I think
That this might be my second chance
Always I catch myself
Comparing you to him
Am I falling
I Just Met a Weirdo - WhitexNI Just Met a Weirdo - WhitexN4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
A Pokemon Black and White fanfic, focusing on Ferriswheelshipping
"Hm what do you think about what they said Tokou?" Cheren asked thoughtfully after the weirdo men who looked like knights from the middle ages left to the next town. I for one had no idea what they were talking about. It was confusing and sounded pretty boring, so I just stared blankly at them throughout the whole speech. Unable to answer Cheren's question, I just shrugged and said:
Cheren rolled his eyes and was about to say something else (more nerd talk maybe) when some green haired guy from the noisy crowd walked toward us.
"Your pokemon they speak to me.." he muttered, and stared hardly right at me. I raised my brows at him with a confused look.
"W-what?" I asked dazed by the man's stern look. Cheren stepped forward a little confused himself.
"Boy, you speak too fast. And what do you mean 'the pokemon speak to you'? What an odd thing to say." he said eying the mys
Cauveat Actor Part OneCauveat Actor Part One.Cauveat Actor Part One4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Come, come, don't be shy! I only aim to heal!"
These words resonate through the hilltop town of Chiusi, set within the beautiful green heart of Italy that is the province of Umbria. It is a wonderful, sunny day today in this area and its inhabitants gladly make use of such fine weather. The streets are full of merchants selling their wares and civilians shopping for goods of various natures, while others merely relax at the porches and squares to engage in a good meal and conversation.
The sound comes from a doctor's shop in the main street, where a doctor praises his wares and skills to all those who are in need of it. The vigor in his advertising is admirable, not to mention convincing, and many cannot help but at least turn to look as he practices his profession. Occasionally, people stop by, either to purchase medicine or make use of his services, either of which happily provided by the friendly, jovial man behind the counter.
Ilario Santucci and his
Tough LoveDearest W.B.,Tough Love5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's not you, it's me.
I can no longer deal with this back and forth relationship we have. Like pieces of a puzzle, we've become soggy and swelled with pride and we no longer fit, at least not into a sensible element. The late night standoffs are starting to take a toll on us on me. Weary is not a good look to fashion. And the lack of satisfaction at fulfillment leaves me hungry. So much in fact, it's hard to walk the path of fidelity with you. Many avenues appear in my sight and I beg you to forgive me for being weak amongst temptation. Forces outside me tease my senses. Just a taste or a mere touch and I'm addicted.
Don't get me wrong, our time together has been animated. At times fighting with you gave me drive. The adrenaline rush afterward would come up on me out of no where. Lately though, it has given me pause. Our fighting for the sake of dominance and submission has changed to something else entirely. Your pugnacious tendencies have escalated. I wish I cou
fairytales"Mira, if you don't open this door this instant, I'm going to break through your window."fairytales4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Peter, I'm reading."
"Tell me something I don't know. I'm serious. Open the door. We're going out. As in outside. As in into the real world."
"I can't. I'm just getting"
"To the good part. I know. And I don't really care right now. For the last time, open the door."
"No, Peter! I'm sick of you telling me what to do."
"You're being unfair, and we both know it. There's only one thing I ever tell you to do and you ignore me anyways, so it's irrelevant."
"I reserve the right to make my own judgments. I'm an adult."
"No, you're not. You're like some starry-eyed kindergartener. Stuck inin a fairytale world!"
"Then my fairytale world suits me just fine."
"Mira. Please. The rest of the world is moving on without you. Grow up."
"You know what's unfair, Peter Killinger? You telling me to 'grow up' all the time when you only treat me like a little kid!"
"Don't slam things around. What are
StarstruckStarstruck girl, a light in my eyesStarstruck2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They've never seen before.
When you don't scale my sky.
A jump, a leap, a fall so far,
But then you pick me up.
You taught me something,
You made me learn.
How we were born,
When it makes us so much stronger?
We have so much more
To offer this world
Than the average boy or girl.
They reject us, or accept us,
And never understand...
But I don't care.
I don't mind anymore.
I like who I am,
I'm proud to be me.
There are things I'll change,
But I'm glad to be different.
I don't resent my birth.
We share this fate,
And I realize now
How much that really means.
Unique, not abnormal;
Gifted, not deprived;
Blessed, not cursed;
Worthy, not worthless.
We are who we are,
And I like who we are.
You made me see that,
And see who I am.
I knew it was there,
But you opened my eyes
And set me free.
Starstruck now, unsure how
To tell you what I feel.
My tongue and typing
Become so clumsy
When I cross your path these
.:T-I:. Secret Santa for LordFluffers Julian sighed a little wistfully as he stirred his hot cocoa with his straw, his cheek resting on his closed fist which he’d propped onto the table. This was the season for holiday cheer, and joy- but… he was having trouble working up the courage to make anything happen. He sighed again under his breath, before turning to glance out the window, perking up a little when he saw a certain adorable couple walking down the street..:T-I:. Secret Santa for LordFluffers1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Florence and Snowflake were holding hands, and smiling, and though it was snowing outside they both seemed happy. Though Julian couldn’t tell what they were saying from his position on the other side of the glass, it was clear they were having a good time, and he wondered how it was that Florence managed to do that so… so easily! He was a little jealous- but when he realized the pair was making their way into the little cafe he was seated in, he hurried to look away.
Not much later,
Self-confidence.Smile at yourself-Self-confidence.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Turned down into a little frown.
You feel ucky,
Just kinda ugly-
But you are beautiful.
Figure so precise,
Makeup giving you a lovely disguise-
You wash your face;
Watching pale cover-up run down like wet lace...
You wipe off that red lipstick,
Forcing a small smile at the reflection-
You want to cry,
Want to fall inside.
They tell you,"You are beautiful."
That you should stand up taller-
It makes you feel good;
Blows up your little ego.
In the end,
When you're eighty years old;
An old grandma..
Looking like a wrinkled fool-
You're insides are what matter,
What counts the most;
So do not fret..
About an oversized nose.
You're forever beautiful-
Not like those models,
Whom tend to skip meals..
The Pizza, The Prophet, and MeSo. It all began when the prophet Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon him, came for a visit to my house for some pizza and video games.The Pizza, The Prophet, and Me7 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Id had the cheese and garlic pizza, with the pan-style crust with mozzarella crammed inside, and he had the regular old original crust topped with lots of vegetables, a lot of them olives, onions, mushrooms, and green peppers.
He really likes those peppers a lot, so I always make sure I have some in the house in case he decides to come over.
So anyway, there we were: me, lounging on the couch with my feet propped up on the little wooden folding table and he, sitting in his green robe thingy, cross-legged on the carpet.
I told him, as I always do, that he doesnt need to sit on the floor, and that hes a guest in my home and thus, can sit on the couch next to me. In fact, if anything, as a guest, the roles ought to be reversed completely.
And, as always, he just smiles and responds that I am a lady and therefore, I should get the couch
When the Winter EndsFollow the fall, let it sprout into springWhen the Winter Ends1 week ago in Free Verse More Like This
Winter's wherever you are
I can never keep still, I'll be everywhere until
I can settle myself and be held
Into place at a pace I can stand
Sleep softly, a song
That feels more familiar
Than I think that it should
I'll follow it farther
Go all the way down
Through the trail and the mist of the morn
Am I off the chart as I mock the map,
While I run and refuse to be wrapped
In the ice of a life like the past?
Are we where we always were?
I can never accept the terms
I'll fight and I'll bite and I'll kick like a kite
To be away from the things that still cling to this string
And ascend to the atmosphere, clay-made and clear
From the forge over which I was born
So keep me running, I'll race you there
Let's never get back to the past
We can fill in the lines, we can pay our own fare
And ensure what we're lacking won't last
The ferry could carry us far but it's slow and I know there's another route out
The stones are so slick that I sl
Selected LinesAzure skies, like the blue of your eyes,Selected Lines2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And all that lies within. Secret ties
That burn and bind, with all the signs
Of taking time. And what you find,
Selected lines, help your heart survive.
The sky is a backdrop
Against which I run,
Across the clouds and sparks.
Soft and scathing, not quite settled,
A sickly path to the sun.
Yet I yearn for the stars,
Though suns they truly be.
Should I wait for the moon,
Am I running too soon?
Maybe there's too much blue.
When daytime dies, the azure skies
Change their shade and fade.
You like the dark, so make your mark,
Show me the sky by night...
Lead me away from the light.
Convention, conformity, all this empty talk
Of azure skies and bloated clouds and the sun at blinding noon.
I can see in the night, nowhere alike, it keeps me calm and safe.
If that shocks you, like lightning, I'm sorry to stir a storm.
The blue of your eyes, like azure skies,
Is all the blue I need.
I Am Not SupermanI am not Superman. I'm not. I can't leap tall buildings in a single bound, I can't leap them at all. In fact, I'm not even able to leap period.I Am Not Superman6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I am not faster than a speeding bullet. I know. I've seen the bullets fly far more often than anyone should have to. I'm not even faster than your average person, not anymore, I'm no longer able to run.
I am not stronger than a train, I never have been. Now, it hurts me to just lift my daughter, and she only weighs 14 pounds. I'm not even supposed to lift her. What I do have is inner strength, strength of spirit. I believe that if I truly want something bad enough, I will be able to get it, to do it. I do not believe in failure, only various degrees of success.
You only fail when you stop trying.
Unlike Superman, I have my limits, and while I do try to exceed them as often as I can, I know them, I understand them, and I accept them for what they are.
But think about this: What is it that makes Superman so super? It's not all those superhuman qu
Crossing ArielYour wedding;Crossing Ariel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you spoke your way toward it
one prospect at a time;
having not been
the cripple or whore,
you settled for
singularity, no future or past,
just announcement and umbra, joy in shade,
soft smiting breath.
How though did you put your children away?
squinting toward dawn.
If your days had been counted
perhaps you would have gone off
fatter, sated as a rook scavenging
in the quiet
instead of blindly staring out bread crumbs
like a gassed canary.
The shine of your boy's hungry mouth
did not dissuade your long whim;
to any call of loneliness
the answer was a towel,
clean and wet
and a ration of cold milk.
Did any irony strike you
like a bell hammer?
Aimlessly you once doodled
no small feet wiggling
toe-ward to fill them.
Gentle prophecy of
immortal effigy for the beauty of drowning.
The flaxen-haired siren
counting out pins from her hair,
swallowing them slowly to armor her heart,
a myth of eaters
and sadness consumed
The Rumour of IcarusIcarusThe Rumour of Icarus4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a rumour that your father killed you, that
he bent your wings until they broke and then
told you, "Fly."
If this rumour is true, then it lives in the throats of
those fragile boys who wear your death like Cain's mark,
whose tender hands split like swollen tomatoes when
they pluck strangled seabirds, whose
arms slump beneath the weight of their father's genius.
And this rumour lives on
the under-skin of their eyelids so that when they die
or simply sleep
they dream of their fathers
or maybe just of Daedalus, standing with
his hands full of feathers and wax,
their blood-flecked down under his fingernails.
your face is gone, icarus, you are a warning & a tragedy &
the patron saint of boys who will not listen but also you are a god, icarus,
a god to these boys and still, when you fell
said Bruegel in oils, Auden and Williams in verse
no one gave a damn.
they also say that your father strained the sunlight into an amphora
and told you, "Dri
A Poem I wroteEscaping MyselfA Poem I wrote4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It makes my hopes
feel like dirt.
Seeing happiness in others,
combined with publicity
it crushes my spirit
it paralyzes me.
It hurts my insides
It makes a hole wide
Unable to do stuff
I become lazy
it all just goes
and life becomes mazy
I lose my will
to go on......
to be strong...
and maybe even
to get along.
There's no hope
I'm full of mope.
But I'm sure
there's one cure.
I have zealousy
to get over this jealousy!
To escape from the prison
that is me!
I am blinded.
I am stupidfied!
I fail to see the real problem.
I am green-eyed!
Seeing others so successful
makes me think I have no chance.
It makes me think that I
cannot even advance.
Then I see who I am.
What I've done.
What I did.
It makes me feel stupid
It makes me feel damned!
I know who I am.
I know what to do.
I just need to keep going.
Bid the past adieu.
I need only myself
and support to carry on.
Without friends and support
my chances would be gone!