in the land of dead things.When the topic of death visited a conversation, she would pause and look at her slim hands. I would pretend not to notice as a far away look reached her harsh blue eyes and for a long time I thought she was thinking of her father, dead of some cancerous disease that hacked apart his insides. It was something she had no trouble talking about, but she would get swept away in the details and forget I was sitting in the cold car next to her. And often, I would feel embarrassed for her. She wasn't the type of girl to dwell on the morbid or repulsive, but there she would be, spilling her guts like it was a natural topic for discussion.in the land of dead things.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She was nineteen when she moved in with me. We found a house in the country that wasn't far from where I worked and she assured me she could get a job as a minimum paid waitress at Petey's. She didn't mind when the men bought her drinks and called her a cheap whore. She would turn her back and reapply her lipstick with every hoot and whistle she received. With
of fish and fairytales.i was five years old when i first started dreaming of fish.of fish and fairytales.6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
i made wishes on them, sometimes. and 'don't ever leave me,' i told them. 'please don't.'
i know it sounds insane but i could swear - and still do - that they promised me they'd never leave. that they'd carry my dreams into eternity and hold me. keep me from falling. drowning.
'be my gills when i can't swim anymore,' i told them. 'be my gills.'
and they were.
i was nine when my parents got a divorce.
that night, i didn't understand. that night, i cried until the sky was painted in crimson lights and it was morning and the sun found me on my bed, passed out and tear-stained. that night, the world stopped spinning for five whole seconds and i could swear the heavens were looking down on me and me alone. a spotlight was on me and all i could do was lay there and cry and wonder what i had done wrong.
but the fish were still painted on the insides of my mind and i wasn't alone i swore i wasn't alone.
'hold me,' i told them. 'hold
write your reality in his eyeshe said his name was oliver.write your reality in his eyes6 years ago in Teen More Like This
he was painted with the colour of lies and had puppet string fingers. He smelt of burnt wood and methylated spirits. his eyes were uninhabited; there was nothing there. under the moon light you couldn't tell that his teeth were just slightly yellow, but under the sunlight you could tell that he was breaking. he was falling apart. he was vacant. he was, everything but beautiful.
he held her hand.
she said her name was madeline.
she had golden hair that curled in little ringlets around her waist. she had skinny legs and slender hips and a smile that could stop traffic. she couldn't bear to watch people suffer and she liked to re-write reality, the way she wished it was. she knew though, on the inside, that she couldn't re-write her lost forever and always
she pressed her lips to his collar-bone
he lived by night.
the walls of his room were painted beige and he had messy hair. he had always been attracted to lip-piercings and black hair. his fat
sad french films.'take me to a sunsoaked horizon'sad french films.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'wake up to yourself. life isn't a fucking love story'
but oh how she wished it was. if only his smile reminded her of the way the sun seemed to shine just that little bit brighter on a winter's day, or of watching the sun set in summer. if only she could walk around with a handful and a pocketful and a heartfull of stories. but she can never see his reflection in the midnight sky and he never tells her she's beautiful.
he has dark circles under his eyes and when things go wrong he sits alone in small parks drinking until he passes out. at first, she thought it was beautifully sad, but when you're being rushed to hospital to have your stomach pumped, it's not as beautiful any more. when you're coughing and spluttering in the gutter with vomit in your hair and no one around to help its not so poetic.
sometimes she sits down to write about how she feels but nothing comes. all she can see is him with white noise spilling from his mouth and his angry
graveyard music.i believegraveyard music.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is a poem
the clouds: the page
the stars: the words
is a sheet,
Beware Candy HeartsHer heart has a red candy shellBeware Candy Hearts6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's pretty and sweet,
But it's brittle as hell.
If you do break it, though,
I think you'll find
That candy was just the first line
One of many.
And few, if any, will be quite as sweet,
Unless you think getting mauled is a treat.
I'm Not Gonna Cry...I'm Not Gonna Cry...6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I looked down at his beaten form, horrified.
He was merely a child, barely half my age at most. There he was, in a decrepit alley, sitting along a wall that was splattered with what I hoped to God was not his own blood.
It saddened me that when I moved my hand towards him, holding out some food, he looked as if he wanted to scurry away. Even sadder was that he couldn't move, or do anything else for that matter, in his state. He took to merely staring at me with fear etched in his eyes.
I looked around at the main street that the small little alley was connected to. It was large and bustling with people on a bright sunny day.
I didn't get why the people stopped, looked at the little boy, and then walked away as if they never even saw him.
I looked back at him and saw the tears in his eyes, but they didn't fall. Somehow, I knew he was trying to hold them back.
"I won't hurt you."
"Everybody hurts me."
A labored, coarse voice, way too old for his age, occasionally racked by a gurgling sou
Proprioception and Kinesthesia"lately I've been losing my hands,Proprioception and Kinesthesia5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
feeling like they're on your hips
when they are in my pockets.
i can feel my fingers wander,
but i'm watching them
flat on the table."
"i never know what you mean
when you talk like this.
you know that."
dear t, love m_cDear M, I used to wonder if the collision of our skin would be the ignition of rapidfire passions, the birth of brilliant starlight in the cold of loneliness, of suffocating space. I used to imagine that the heat of your breath would spill across my tongue, and reignite the cold ashes in my lungs. I used to hope that the sway of my skeleton and the clacking of my bones could be a rhythm you would stay around and dance to. I used to dream of us on moonlit beaches, sleeping on the waves and swimming through the sand. I used to do a lot of things, but your shiver-up-my-spine smile tends to drag my thoughts out to quieter seas.dear t, love m_c5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Dear T, I used to imagine my bones were fractured and chipped in all the wrong ways. I used to think my heart was a poison my body kept rejecting, leaving me on my hands and knees spitting up old relationships, lies and heartache all over my carpet late at night. I used to look at the sun and wish myself blind, stare at the ocean and wish myself ten thousand le
show me the inglorious truth.With the beginning tied to the end, I finally understand: there is nothing easy about this.show me the inglorious truth.6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
So many rest on their laurels of Love and proclaim it to be a fall, a drift, autumn-leaf-hearts simply riding the breeze until they kiss the ground and kneel before the oak of emotion. They describe it as an arrow of happiness, simply securing one's self to the golden bullet before being launched from point A to point B. There are no detours, no dead ends, there simply is the arrival and nothing more.
One moment one is standing on the brink of un-Love and the next second, their foot slips and they arrive at the next state of their being. There is no in-between, no middle ground. They breathe deep the change and shed their skin, embrace their new life and go forth.
Oh, but I now know different! I know Love not as a fall, or a trip, or a tumble, but rather as a beast. A savage creature with tooth and claw and hoof. An ever-changing animal to grapple with, one that stalks before it pounces, one tha
don't drag me into love.i keep choking on saltwater.don't drag me into love.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
with every breath, i'm dragging the seaweed and lies deeper into my lungs. every insecurity is swelling and dancing before me, every flaw magnifying until i can't see around it. i'm crawling on hands and knees up the beach and coughing up my mistakes, but i can't stop myself from making another one. i'm sitting with trembling hands, a spinning head and i can't stop, i just can't seem to fucking stop.
i'd like to say i'm beautiful, i'd like to say i'm strong, but we know it's a lie. i'd like to say my mistakes make me endearing, my idiosyncrasies make me charming, but it couldn't be further from the truth. in reality, i'm insecure and shaking, i'm crashing down the stairs and sobbing against the bloody carpet. i'm trembling and biting my lip, throwing fists against the wall, screaming at the stars as if they have some answer to offer me. i'm begging the moon for salvation as if it's hidden somewhere beneath the scarred surface.
can't you see? i'm lost, i'm c
Peaceful mornings in Arthur's chambers- Merlin BBCMerlin made Arthur's bed, he heard the king chewing on his breakfast.Peaceful mornings in Arthur's chambers- Merlin BBC3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He loved mornings in Arthur's room.
It was peaceful, the morning air flowed into the room, the bakers' aroma of freshly made food lingered around the room, Merlin breathed it in, it smelled so fresh, so tasty.
He looked down at the bed and continued collecting the washing.
"Merlin do you want some strawberries?" Arthur called.
Merlin smiled and put the silky material into the basket, he loved the feeling of it, if only he was able to sleep in that type of silk every night.
His fingers lingered on it, stroking it.
"Merlin?" Arthur called again, standing up and walking over to the man.
"Oh, sorry yes, I'd like some." Merlin said and gathered the basket in his arms and turned around, about to walk to Arthur when-
The king stood right in front of him, Merlin gasped surprise and the basket fell to the floor, he tripped and Arthur grabbed him and they fell to the bed.
Their lips touched.
Arthur's body was heavily
Without Consequences?I don't own the Avatar: the Last Airbender or any of its characters.Without Consequences?7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Warning: read the 16k - Zutara Surprise first!
Then came the next day the day of Sozins Comet
The small group had to face their fears that day but all of their luck was needed to get through them.
Aang managed to stop the comet, just before it would have led into the catastrophe in his nightmare then as fast as he could he raced back towards the fire palaces throne room, where Zuko faced his own father a second time, to gain them time
Toph and Sokka made sure that the others were not stopped by simple soldiers. Of course she did most
How A Heart BehavesLove is fickle, no one ever said it was fair. It has been said, however, that love isnt something you plan. Sometimes it happens in the blink of an eye, sometimes it develops from friendship.How A Heart Behaves8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Other times it grows and grows before either party involved knows what has happened and it takes so much energy to just realize it that by the time youve accepted it, youre so far in over your head that youll never be able to live without them.
Such is the case of a young prince and brave young woman.
- - - - -
The young Firebenders arms lay atop the edge of Appas saddle, his chin resting on his hands.
Life, fire is life. Fire is not rage or hate or destruction, it is creation. It is a beginning. The Sun protects the day, giving life to plants and people alike. It is energy and it is vitality.
Zuko had never felt so proud of his own element. In the past he had thought himself proud, but he was merely boastful. This time, after learning what Fir
Zutara-Heir to the ThroneFrom the open window of the royal suite, sunlight began to peak through the deep red curtains. Katara felt the warmth of the rays and slowly woke up. She was interrupted by the slightest movement from inside her stomach. Was that her baby…kicking? A surge of excitement shot through her, and she practically jumped out of bed, looking for her husband.Zutara-Heir to the Throne8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She still couldn't believe her current life. Just a few years ago she was traveling with the Avatar and her brother in a quest for Aang to master the elements and take down the Firelord. He was successful, and Firelord Ozai died at the end of the final battle. Katara always knew that Aang would be able to save the world. Still, she couldn't believe how her life turned out afterward. She never thought that she would end up falling in love and marrying her former enemy. Because that's what he was: her former enemy. And now
9 Ember Island TheaterI dont own the Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters.9 Ember Island Theater7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ember Island Theater
Toph shifted in her seat. The others all went to either the bathrooms or to get food or something else while she groaned and said that shed just take care of their seats so that nobody would try to sit there. She didnt know its going to be a bad idea
As she was just sitting there she closed her eyes, letting her bending vision look for anything suspicious or at least interesting or something. But as nothing seemed to be out of place, she just turned her attention to see what the others were doing.
She felt Zuko pacing around, apparently waiting for Katara, who was still in the bathroom she found it a bit strange though, but whatever she knew that he always kept an eye on her to make sure shes ok. Especially since shes in her Fire Nation disguise... Toph smirked. Oh yes, she did not involve anyone, but she knew that the
Avatar-The EndWe all know Avatar is (sadly) coming to an end. (Le Gasp! The Blasphemy!) Its true. And, well, Ive come to certain conclusions (aka theories) as to what will happen by series end.Avatar-The End7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
I know what youre thinking. Oh great, another crazy Zutaraian and her crazy theories. Well, let me tell you something, first ya gotta hear me out before you bash me. (Then you can bash me, which Im sure you will.)
Starting off with Ozai; the big, bad (hot) evil guy. This may come as a shock to some, but I firmly believe Ozai will die. What? Rose, are you crazy? I thought you loved your Ozai! I do, I really do. I still go crazy and you can probably see drool coming to my mouth whenever I see him. However, I know he has to go down. Im not just saying down like lose a fight, imprisoned or something. I mean die, no more, finished, dead, and gone.
Every evil person will meet their justice, the justice that fits them. What a person deserves is up to the individual person and wha
an autumn poem.now, i am writing about your handsan autumn poem.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and how they are warm, like melted chocolate
i am writing about how it is silent
and i get butterflies when you look at me,
i feel nervous
i feel almostbeautiful
and almost wanted
and i want you
i want you
i am writing about how i can't stop thinking about you
and i see your face in the clouds and the cracks
in the pavements spell out your name and there is dirt
between my nails and it makes no sense but i wish it was you,
i wish all of it was you
and i am writing about your hands
but i'm still not writing about you
i'm writing about how i wish it was autumn
with red and gold leaves tumbling down and the scent of spice
lingering in the air or maybe winter so the snow can coat everything
and erase the world in white, all white
and i'll have a reason to feel this romantic
and i want you told me
and i'm writing about your hands
but i'm still not writing about you.
Fight For Me -1- NxWhiteThe day had finally come where I was starting to chase my dreams. I had waited years to be granted my first pokemon and the right to leave the town and embark on my own journey. The wait had been excruciatingly long, honestly. But at last it had ended. I had finally started my journey.Fight For Me -1- NxWhite4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
So, naturally, it was just my luck that I was starting at the same time an evil organization was coming into the open and trying to liberate all pokemon by freeing them of their owners. This only seemed fitting for me. I always was a magnet for trouble.
I stood in the middle of my two best friends just hours after we had begun our journey. I cradled my Snivy in my arms as we watched the gathering in front of us.
Citizens of the town all gathered in front of a group of men- what did they call themselves? Team something or another- who were lecturing them. They went on about how we all mistreat pokemon and are being cruel by keeping them with us and having them do our work.
"What a crock," Cheren hissed un
Forgive?What?! she almost screamed out in disgustForgive?7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I said I want to be He started.
Yes, I heard what you said! she spat right back at him.
Be my friend? You wish to be my friend? Dont make me laugh! she crossed her arms and gave him a fierce look which could have turned the most evil of foes into a harmless puppy.
He kneeled in front of her in submission, completely revealing his inferior to her.
Its true; I do want to be your friend. Surely you must trust me now! Both your brother and Aang have come to understand that Ive really changed, so why cant you?
She lowered her eyes and looked at the ground;
Trust you ? Trust you.. she raised her eyes and gave him that fierce look again.
I did trust you once.. and look how that paid of! she clenched her fists, remembering his betrayal.
Oh no, I wont make that mistake again anytime soon! she then looked aw
you're asking me.if you asked me who i am, i'd probably forget to tell you my name.you're asking me.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
instead i'd tell you that my eyes are blue and i'm shorter than most but taller than some. i'd tell you that i like walking better than driving because feeling the ground under my feet is somehow affirmation that i am alive and that i am connecting to something bigger than me. i'd tell you that i think the sky looks too big at night and not big enough in the morning. i'd probably explain that has something to do with the fact that i wake up with every intention of flying and go to sleep knowing my elbows haven't sprouted wings yet.
but don't worry, i'd say, because i'll wake up hopeful again tomorrow.
and if you were to wait around a little more, i might be persuaded to tell you i'd lost my mind seven years ago and would you be kind enough to help me look for it? i'd probably tell you about the boy with teardrop-eyes who chewed up my heart because he thought it'd be aspirin and was indignant when it burned a hole throug
Meta Origins chapter 4Meta OriginsMeta Origins chapter 46 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter 4: Midnight Rendezvous
Chuva wound up with her own small bedroom in Castle Dedede. But that night, she couldnt sleep.
She tossed and turned, flipping and flopping around in her cramped bed, but no matter what position she was in her eyes refused to close. She tossed the blanket to the floor, then the pillow. Her cape rustled with each new pose she tried. But it was no use. She was restless, and she knew why.
Somewhere in this castle, Meta was still awake. And she would find him.
Meta Knight tugged on the door to Chuvas small single room, and it opened about an inch without making a sound. He peered into the crack with one masked eye. There she was, her sheets bunched around her still form. She was hard to make out, there in the dark, but
And just who do you think youre sneaking up on? asked a female voice behind him.
Meta Knight swirled around. There stood Chuva, her cape folded across her chest in a del
The Same Old Mistakes Over AgainThe Same Old Mistakes Over Again3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One moment she has no clue why she's following this unfamiliar man - Mr. Gold apparently - deeper into the forest except for the fact he said he would protect her.
And the next suddenly there are memories she didn't have before and they make sense and oh god he's right in front of her.
She wants to hit him, she wants to scream at him, but most of all she wants to hug him.
He's still walking and she realizes she has to say something, anything. She has to see his face, she needs to hear his voice, after so long she just needs him.
He slows but doesn't stop.
"No, no we're very close."
He's not going to stop she realizes, and she knows she's going to have to say more if she wants to see his face because he's just as stubborn here as he was there.
He freezes back suddenly rigid and turns to her. He's human she realizes, from the tiny crow's feet at the corners of his eyes to his peachy flesh. He's looking at her in disbelief as if someone's playing a c