Mass Effect: Commander in ChefCommander in ChefMass Effect: Commander in Chef5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Shist Shepard rolled his left sleeve up once again, thoughts of using duct tape to hold it there running rampant in his subconscious. "Is there a problem, Sergeant Gardener?" he asked casually.
"No," Gardener replied with a shrug. "Not a problem, exactly. I am wondering, however, what you're doing in my kitchen."
Shepard glanced down at the ingredients he'd gathered, frowned, and looked back up at the mess sergeant. "The Normandy's my ship. Technically, this is my kitchen."
"That's not what I meant, sir. Let me rephrase. What are you doing in a kitchen?"
"Cooking," Shepard replied simply with a shrug. "At least, I'm trying to."
"I gathered that," Gardener said with as much patience as he could muster. Shepard's nonchalant, down to earth attitude, while morale-inducing, tended to grate a little when the mess sergeant was stressed. And he certainly became stressed when someone, commanding officer or not, invaded his personal space, his pride and joy: the Normandy
Unconditional loveWill you love me when I no longer have arms to cradle you in?Unconditional love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or when I no longer have lips to kiss you?
When my heart stops beating and my lungs begin to empty
Will you shed a tear for me?
Will you love me when I no longer have eyes to see you with?
Or when I no longer have ears to hear you cry?
When my mouth refuses to utter as single word, and I can't say I love you
Will you still know that I do?
Will you love me on the rainy day when I rest in peace?
Or in the proceeding future where I am no longer there?
Will you move on and find someone else to love?
Will you know that I am content with that?
My Guiding Lightning Strike: A mass effect storyShe cursed loudly as she tripped into her small Citadel condo, bags flying into the space in every direction.My Guiding Lightning Strike: A mass effect story3 years ago in Sketches More Like This
Ashley Williams prided herself in knowing that she could maintain her balance and grace, even in the direst circumstances. Today however was a different story. She would have never thought that such a menial task would result in her making very close contact with the floor. Hell, she could stay upright when 15 husks were trampling her. She supposed that the long trip back to the citadel from the wretched colony made her especially uncoordinated as well as the recent events that occurred there.
Williams regained her composure and made her way to her bedroom, and kicked off her boots and jacket, eager to get into the plush bed . Once inside the warm covers, she closed her eyes in an attempt to quiet the guilt and hurt that plagued her mind.
Inevitably, her thoughts drifted to that disastrous day. She had hear
Mass Effect: PastimeAs the three holograms faded, Frederick resisted the urge to slam his balled fist into the tall plasma screen behind the holoprojectors. The Council had found a way to be displeased again.Mass Effect: Pastime6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It was easy for them to say he should have acted this way or that when they were safely ensconced at the heart of the Citadel, light-years from where he was making life-or-death decisions for entire colonies. He didn't have the luxuries of retrospect, mission reports, or endless rainy-day games of "what-if" during those split-second intervals in which he had to make choices.
Feros had been a rotten operation from the very get-go; Frederick knew it, the Council certainly knew it, and everyone on the colony knew it. In fact, if he were in charge of colonial affairs, there would never have even been a Feros colony. Post-industrial in every sense, Feros had little to no natural resources left, meaning everything for the colony had to be imported from some place or another. A colony like that wo
To all of the Cowards, Let's help Ourselves ...I'm done being the sad one, done waiting for my prince or princess.To all of the Cowards, Let's help Ourselves ...1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm done being like you all, i'm no longer sitting here and waiting for my life to spontanoulsy get better, no longer cutting myself to “release” the pain in a feeble attempt that i'll be seen by someone.
I'm done being the attention whore, and I'm done saying that I’m not. Because I was, i'd cut and complain, join in the dead chorus and mock the life that was given to me, judge it all on one event that happened, yearning to throw it away because things just don't go my way.
I'm done being helpless, I’m done yearning for the dark and yearning for help that will never come.
What good has it done me other than getting the attention I wanted. “Why go on,” “I want to kill myself,” “No body likes me,” I could go on and on about things I said_oh, and “Why am I even Alive?”. I wanted an answer, always wanted an answer. I hoped that someone else would give
Mass Epinephrine EffectIt was a little odd, but he'd never thought having his arm severed would hurt this much. It hurt a lot, in fact; like every muscle fiber in his shoulder being pulled and twisted by an unbelievable force. The pain of it burned through every nerve in his side, not just at his left shoulder, where the break had occurred.Mass Epinephrine Effect6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He felt incredibly cold.
He was bleeding at a fair clip, already close to blacking out. He saw the world around him as a murky, watery blur, figures only distinguishable from one another by the color of their hardsuits. The dark frame directly above him had to be Garrus, but the two smudges carrying his legs were harder to make out. Thinking of anything but the pain and the cold was difficult as his brain sluggishly tried to recall who else had been in the Mako when they made first contact with the enemy.
Crippled by a blast from the Mako's main cannon, a dying geth dropship smashed into the compact vehicle, tearing through armor plating like cardboard and crushing the co
Forwarding CallsHello love,Forwarding Calls3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's me again.
I know you won't answer my call; I know you won't tease me with a response.
Still I reach out to you; because it hurts too much to let you go.
I've been searching for you, mostly in my dreams.
But I always get lost in the mazes you create and wake up in a cold bed.
Turning away from where you used to lie.
Once, you were something that used to beckon me; someone who had me wrapped so tightly around his finger.
(It's no wonder it didn't fall off)
Now, you are just a stinging recollection, whom I cannot divulse from.
The memory of you always bittersweet.
Still I call out to you, always hoping for you to return.
So please, disappear my love if you plan on keeping your heart out of my reach.
Until then, I will
To Girls Who Love to blame Boys for Your Problems,Dear Girls,To Girls Who Love to blame Boys for Your Problems,1 year ago in Letters More Like This
Please stop playing the victim.
Boys are not always the cause of your problems, chances are, you are. You just refuse to acknowledge it.
The more you blame them, the more bitter and spiteful you will become. Stop destroying yourself from the inside because you cannot take responsibility for the mess you've created.
Stop playing the victim. Get up and do something about it. Crying won't help, nor will hating the opposite sex.
If you're tired of being called a slut because you love breaking hearts, than stop sleeping around. If you're tired of being called a bitch, than stop treating boys like shit. If you're tired of being treated as an object, gain some self-esteem. If you're tired of starving yourself because of a break up, that's your problem. We told you to eat, but you won't listen. You only blame it one him, but who destroyed the relationship in the first place?
Whither away like the twig you are if it makes you feel better.
Problems are problems, they all have solutio
Creepypasta: A Glorified PrisonCreepypasta: A Glorified PrisonCreepypasta: A Glorified Prison8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hello there, you seemed surprised. Maybe you were like a lot of people these days who expect a big black nothing when they shut their eyes for the last time. An eternity of empty nonexistence is a dream that has been forsaken to us. Forgive my bluntness, but now you are in Hell. And barring unforeseen circumstances you will be here a while. So you’d best get used to the fact.
Hell is, at its most essential function, nothing more than a glorified prison. As for me, I have been here so long that I have forgotten my name. I have even forgotten what sin or sins originally damned me. But since I have no name, that also means I can take any name I choose. So, forgive the melodrama, but call me Ishmael.
Sorry, I’m terrible, aren’t I? I couldn’t resist making a reference to a literary work that’s about man killing God. You understand I’m pretty bitter towards Him at this point. I haven’t learned a thing…not that He
Given UpIt's been three long years on a ship before you finally meet up with your friends. Three long years of playing shitty MMO's and waiting anxiously on any word from your friends. Three years before you got to see them in person. There's something deep down in your heart that is scared that they won't be friends with you anymore, that they've changed. Three years is a lot of time. It's a lot of time to change as a person. You know, because you've changed a little bit. You're not as naïve as you were before; the game taught you a lot about yourself, and about how life can change so fast. It taught you to be strong, and acknowledge your weakness. You've had to cope with death, and depression. There's more to life than your prankster gambit and playing video-games. Sburb taught you a lot, it showed you a lot. There were some really horrible experiences, but also some really cool ones. You looked over at Jade and Dave and gave them both a reassuring smile.Given Up3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"This will be really exciting.
Behind YouHave you ever felt like maybe, just maybe, there’s someone watching you? We all have, perhaps in a crowded place, such as a public park on a nice day. Perhaps you were alone, walking along a forest trail, or cooking a meal for yourself at home. Maybe you had another human or two nearby, friends per chance, or a shop keeper. Maybe you hear something, your name, perhaps a murmur, or a simple request for you to do something mundane, such as picking something up that seems harmless, like a glass of water. But when you ask your companion what they said, they’ll become puzzled, confused as to what you were asking, as they never said anything.Behind You9 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If you've ever felt this, you should check behind you. Better yet, check the base of your skull. There could be something there, small and writhing, just under the skin. You should get that taken care of, before those requests become demands and those demands become controlling.
Because they will become violent, a
A Philosophy of Hell...."The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.A Philosophy of Hell....10 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a me
Imaginary Friends Remember when you were little and had "Imaginary friends?" These invisible people that you would talk to and claim as your best friend?Imaginary Friends6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I remember. I use to have this one imaginary friend and he was my best friend. We would talk.. watch tv.. play with my toys, and such.
Thinking back to those memories, I smile a bit. After thinking about it some more.. it started to become weird..
I remember browsing the internet, mostly about the paranormal since I'm kinda obsessed with that stuff, and I remember reading something that said "Kids are more likely to see ghosts then adults or older kids."
Then I started to think.. what if our imaginary friends.. were actually spirits?
mushroom cloud "an explosion", she saidmushroom cloud2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I turned to ask her what she was talking about when I
caught sight of the tv screen, and for the tiniest of moments I caught
myself thinking that there's something beautiful about that much energy and
so much destruction; energy - would it wipe me off my feet? maybe melt the skin
right off of my bones? heat, death and poison, I don't believe there's much you or I
would be able to feel dying in those flames, and I should probably be ashamed that I
Breaking New Ground~ Chapter 6 "Oh, yeah..I guess it is my birthday..." Mark was still stunned. He wasn't processing the whole situation completely. He was confused mixed with a little bit of controlled anger and happiness. He saw all his friends and family. It was amazing but he was so happy he could barely contain it. "Sorry about all that stuff I had you do. It was the only way I knew to get you outta the house."Breaking New Ground~ Chapter 62 years ago in Settings More Like This
"Aww. Thanks man...A great big thank you to all of you." he almost teared up on the inside,but kept it inside. He was a tough guy, he wasn't about to show weakness. At least not in front of his friends.
"Well lets not just stand around! Lets get this Party started!"
The Party started as most parties did, by breaking open the beer and food. But come on, all parties lead to stupid ideas. There were contests to see who could eat the most marshmallows, (mostly
Magnificent Doctor.Small police box.Magnificent Doctor.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Entire blue and made of wood.
Creaking door, flaking paint.
Bigger on the inside, smaller, from the outside.
Time and space, plaited together.
Dark sky, burning sun and icy star.
The Lord of Time, a solitary traveler.
He is not afraid of dawn, is living in darkness.
Eternal and immortal.
His name, written in the stars, burnt in time.
Red sneakers, crumpled suit, a brown coat.
In his eyes, knowledge, wisdom, truth, power.
His two hearts are beating the rhythm of time.
A past,present and future are uniting in his hands.
My Doctor, a powerful lord, a man of wisdom.
Why are you lonely?
You're like God, mighty, wise, immortal.
One, alone, unique in huge universe.
You are travelling among the stars, Doctor.
Take me with you. Together, we will not be lonely.
Love me, Doctor.
You will not be alone... Until I die.
Could-have-been KingA broken crown of tarnished goldCould-have-been King5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Defeated armies, once so bold
An empty city of wraiths and dreams
A cultures soul, ripped at the seams
The could-have-been king showed his might
His meanwhile army brought forth bitter night
Time's fractured throne, held by golden lords
Master's hands push back red-robed hordes
And forced again to play his part
With healing hands and broken heart
A severed link to exalted halls
And back through time Gallifrey falls
Creepypasta: The Nail CollectorCreepypasta: The Nail CollectorCreepypasta: The Nail Collector10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
A lot of people collect things these days. In my opinion it’s a sign of society becoming increasingly focused on cold numbers over intangible things like emotion, but that’s a rant and a half for another day. Besides, I collect things too. I collect nails.
Not fingernails, that’d be gross. I mean the metal variety. Carpentry nails, woodworking and leatherworking nails, builder’s nails, and I’m particularly into the heavy nine-inch variety they use for coffins too. The other people in Alpenview think I’m a bit eccentric, but I’m perfectly harmless so they needn’t worry. They think I collect the nails because I used to be a carpenter, and I let them think that because it’s preferable to having to explain the truth.
Every day I go into town, wandering the streets and construction sites of Alpenview looking for nails. I carry a metal lunchbox with me to keep from spilling them on my worn-down shoes, and o
The DoctorHe stood aloneThe Doctor7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Watching the world
This was who he was;
Of all he saw
And all he didn't see
And all he could never see again
Lingering on the whithering
Shining Through ShadowsI peered at the world through rose colored glasses.Shining Through Shadows6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I trusted without reason.
I believed people even though they lie.
Despite all the times people have hurt me,
I kept hoping the next time would be different.
Shadows of past Selves flicker through my mind.
Whispers of shattered hearts creep into my emotions.
My glasses are gone.
The world is terrifying.
I dive inward.
I won't be hurt if I lurk in the labyrinth of my mind.
If I never try to trust,
I won't be tricked.
Why listen to others?
or I'll believe their lies.
It's so hard to stay in the Shadows.
I keep wanting to reach out.
To touch the beauty of Light.
Hope will not die just because I fear.
The Light entices me.
Always, I keep my escape close.
I know I'll believe lies.
I know I will get hurt.
I know I will be betrayed.
I cannot help hoping that things will be better this time around.
Still, the Light beckons.
Maybe the Light will chase away my Shadows.
I will become a Light.
Even with S
Creepypasta: ThreadbareCreepypasta: ThreadbareCreepypasta: Threadbare7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
No one knows the name of the homeless bloke who lived under the overpass, who he was, or where he came from. Most assumed him to be just another person with a physical or possibly mental handicap that kept him from working, like countless others within the inner core of Detroit. You, being a kind soul at your most basic, thought you would give him a gift possibly more precious than a handout. You thought it would be a profound gesture of kindness to sit down with the man and ask him about his life.
As you approach him, lying in his makeshift lean-to and looking out on the world that cast him out, you don’t feel scared in the least. He has never exhibited any signs of hostile behaviour in the four years he has dwelled beneath the overpass, and in fact seems to show an admirably content attitude on his station in life.
“Hello, do you need someone to talk to? I have plenty of spare time, it’s Sunday so I don’t have work or anything” yo