Come see Craig and me at REDCATBefore I get to that, I'd like to thank everyone who came by and FLOODED my DA page with kind words, support and all sorts of love after I found out I wasn't to be included in the DVD commentary for Season 1 of MLP:FiM. I'm not sure yet why it happened, but hearing from so many people both here and at my Twitter assures me that I WON'T be forgotten when it comes to the adventures of a certain 6 fillies. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
So..... for all you Los Angelites (or anyone visiting right about now) my husband, Craig McCracken (creator of Powerpuff Girls, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends and Wander Over Yonder) and I will be speaking on a panel about "Life After College." The two of us and some other amazing graduates from
PewDieCry - Amnesia Ch. 1As the Swede walked slowly down the cold, long, corridor he listend for any slight noise. He didn't want a bro getting him, did he? As his lantern began to dim he filled it back up with oil. Just then, a door approched in his sight to the right of the corridor. He put his hand on the nob and slowly cracked it open, searching for anything inside. Once he knew it was safe, he opend it and walked inside. it was a lovely bedroom. He saw a wardrobe, a desk and.. "Mr. Chair!" He shouted gleefully. He ran over to Mr. Chair, hugging him. A human body started to form in his arms as Mr. Chair woke from chair mode. "Hello, PewDie." he said in his happy normal tone. Just then, PewDie heard a noice, from the bed. They looked over to see a figure sitting up.
As he sat up and stretched he look over at the two people sitting across the room. He jumped, relising they saw his face and he quickly grabbed his mask, slipping it on. "CRYYYYY" that famillar voice shouted. "Pewds!" he smiled noticing who
List of my oc's :3Just to stay organized, I'm gonna just say who the oc's are that I am still using and plan to keep, here we go:
And that's it :3
Roleplay characters don't count^^'
Silence ConsumesI can distinctively describe our first meeting. It was a cold rainy day, clouds hiding the sun, showing a gray tainted color on the earth. Nothing could have been less surprising from the city of Seattle. Standing near a bus stop in front of Starbucks, you could see the difference between Seattle folk and tourists. When it rained, we let the droplets touch our skin, letting it wash away our sentimental worries. Tourists on the other hand, panic like ants, holding an umbrella close to their skull so not one drop would ruin their sweaters. Seeing this always makes me laugh meekly as I took a sip of my cappuccino.
Being the sixteen year old I was, I would observe my surroundings like there were a new adventure to explore. Then my eyes would fall upon a teen that looked around my age. Average short brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a tall broad figure, which made him unbearably hard to miss. Silly as it may seem, we would stand at the bus stop every day, waiting for the bus. He would be li
For Certain.I can hear you.
Every word you say.
I understand it all.
Having someone’s blood doesn’t make you family.
It’s the bonds you share and built together.
Being someone’s friend means loyalty.
A give and take situation.
Always being there for each other,
Even when you don’t know how
Your very presence would be enough.
Being someone’s older sibling means,
Having the responsibility to look after them in ways parents can’t.
Being someone’s younger sibling means supporting the older in ways parents can’t.
Being a parent means raising a child created from your love,
Making sure they are able to hold someone’s life in their hands.
Making sure that they are happy with themselves and their lives.
Making sure that they are strong enough to handle what reality tosses at them.
I can hear you.
Loudly, and clearly.
Every word you say, I can understand it all.
I don’t have a mother. I don’t have a father. I don’t have a brot
In The DarknessWhy? Why did I walk in a hole with a blindfold on?
I walked and crawled, away from the pleading voices. When I found my way out, there were hands reaching out for me.
Why did I slap them away? Why did I just crawl further and further away from those pleading voices?
I never knew that I was walking or crawling with a blindfold on. I had a feeling, but I didn't listen to my gut.
I crawled and crawled through that little hole I was in, further away from the light. I fought my way through vines, rough rocks, and the relentless chill. My body was scarred and my temperature is dropping.
I continued on, hoping that I could get out myself... but at one point, I decided to call out for help.
No one came.
So instead of waiting, I just crawled on by myself. I continued to crawl, but it as I got deeper and deeper, the coldness is was unbearable. I did not hear the sounds of rocks rolling down another pit, and I fell straight through...
I screamed out in fear, the feeling of me falling was frighten