Sexism - a story untoldI. A mother scorns her infant boy forSexism - a story untold1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
wearing a dress; the fresh print of a
hand mark glows on his cheek.
Meanwhile, his sister plays in shorts
II. Lunchtime and a child, no more than
twelve, hurries home early. Tears
smudge the sleeves of his favourite
shirt as he tries to muffle his sobs.
A girl hit him in the face, but boys must
III. Accused of sexual harassment, a
young man apologizes for complimenting
a lady at the bar. Somewhere in the
crowd, a girl pinches a stranger's bum
whilst her friends screech like hyenas.
She was only mildly flirting with him,
IV. In a restaurant, a woman insists her
date pays the bill. The following day,
he's accused of earning too much and
spending too little.
V. A man is pinned against the wall and
forced into sex. Even though he turns
away, he must enjoy it because he's
just a bloke. Women can't rape men - it
doesn't work like that.
VI. Somewhere in this world, a boy
holds the door open for his crush, a
My Protector Scotland X ReaderThis always happened. Every time you went out. Some guy would like the look of you and start following you. Only tonight, it wasn’t just one and they weren’t just normal guys. You had three and all three of them were built and you could barely see the outline of a gun on one. You just kept trying to find a place to hide. Soon you saw a bar you knew a great friend of yours often frequented. You smiled and soon ran in. he was there alright, downing beer again but once he heard the door open, he looked up. Those green eyes met yours and he quickly put out the fresh smoke and you ran over to him. He opened one arm and he quickly pulled you close in a hug.My Protector Scotland X Reader3 weeks ago in General Fiction More Like This
“What’s wrong lass?”
“I’m being followed again Allistor.” Right then you heard the door open and he quickly got you a beer and kept his arm around you.
“Three lads, big with weapons?” you nodded as you took a quick drink. You needed it after all of this. You had been scared to de
Mental Illness Isn't a Pretty ThingMental Illness isn't a fashion statement.Mental Illness Isn't a Pretty Thing3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yet, some people are treating it.
Like cuts are a new clothes line or fashion trend.
Look at me, I am so edgy I cut into my own skin.
Over and over again.
I’ve had an old friend come up to me,
To show me the angry marks on their skin.
They laugh and say,
‘I’ve got so much anxiety!’
But if you are so stressed,
Why are you laughing?
Like it’s nothing.
Anxiety isn’t funny.
They brag about ways they’ve tried to off themselves.
Saying they keep special pills,
On the shelves on their dressers.
But never actually touch them.
They say they’ve almost put bleach to their lips.
They laugh about how they’re so anorexic you can see the pelvic bones
In their hips.
And the people who actually are sick.
That need to be taken seriously.
Sit back and watch in confusion.
As these kids go around spreading their messed up illusions.
We’re asking ourselves,
When did cuts become shiny, b
Hobo HeartHobo Heart1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
Badge number : 1025
August 26, 2014
544 NW Tarrant St.
One deceased female age 26 Large entry wound to chest. Heart removed.
"Hey Jason what we got this time?"
"Yeah it's another one." the CSI officer said shaking his head "Same M.O. chest crushed ripped open heart removed. Human heart from previous deceased present at scene."
"How many does this make?" the detective asked
"Are we counting the one at the lake?" Jason inquired.
" No not yet anyway." replied Detective McMahon
"Five then, but there's no way we can deny they are at least connected." Jason said to the detective squinting his eyes.
"Yeah I hear ya, but there was no heart present. It's his calling card there's no way he'd leave out that little detail. This guys sick it's his ritual. They may be connected, but it may be a copy cat. I'm not giving him the credit till I'm sure." The detective pulled out his lucky zippo rubbed it with his finger as he examined the apple engraving on i
Creepypasta: Bleedingman (Original)Drip.Creepypasta: Bleedingman (Original)1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Shit.” A blonde teen climbed down from a tree he was picking apples from. He had scratched himself on the bark and hadn’t noticed. He left the basket of apples he had collected next to the tree and rushed inside. His icy blue eyes snaked around the room searching for another life form. When he deemed it safe he calmly walked to the bathroom.
Inside the medicine cabinet there were epipens designed especially for him. He injected himself with it and sat by the sink holding a towel to his dripping scrape. Now this boy was special, special in a way he would rather not be. He was a hemophiliac meaning that these minor cuts and scrapes he acquired could kill him. His body had an inability to create the white blood cells he needed fast enough to cause clotting. This restricted most of his outside activities. It even left him an orphan.
His parents were told of his condition after one doctor visit because he wouldn’t stop bleeding after his tooth fell
Loki x Reader |Explaining Santa|Loki x Reader |Explaining Santa|3 weeks ago in Romance More Like This
“I simply don’t understand.”
“Well I’ve been trying to explain it to you.”
“But this holiday person makes no sense!”
“Let me try again.”
“It is called ‘Christ’mas because it is for celebrating your Christian God. Not some fat man in a red and white suit! Why must you confuse me so?”
“Seriously, Loki, let me explain this to you properly!!”
(Name) sighed frustratedly at her husband. They’d only been married for about nine months. They were close to spending their first Christmas together. It was
Loki MonthDecember, after all. So the current predicament was to attempt to explain the idea of Santa Claus to Loki. Which, apparently, was slightly harder than one would have expected.
“You may try again, but I won’t guarantee that I will understand.” He said with a chill, lame tone. He wasn’t even going to try this time. Nevertheless, she would make a
layersi.layers2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
i met a girl today
who was not golden-haired or blue-eyed,
who was not straight-nosed or full-lipped,
who was not long-legged or slender.
instead i met a girl
who sang full-bodied notes in both soprano and alto,
who spoke like a king and walked like a queen,
who had a body curved like the moon.
and that was okay.
i met a boy today
who was not muscular or broad-shouldered,
who was not charming or charismatic,
who was not tall or dark or handsome.
instead i met a boy
who had a memory like an elephant,
who wrote like an angel and drew like Monet,
who could churn out sums like a calculator.
and that was okay.
take a good look in the mirror:
and remember that what you see—
the imperfections and perfections;
the roll of love around your stomach;
the diverging forks at the ends of your hair;
the delicate sprinkles on the bridge of your nose
—is only one layer of who you are,
all of it
(all of you)
is okay, too.
Valentine's Day (Female Muscle Growth!)Valentine's Day StoryValentine's Day (Female Muscle Growth!)2 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
Blake felt a vibration in his pocket, an alert that he received a new text. He tapped the phone a few times, finding that the message was from his girlfriend, wondering when they were going to meet up for the evening. It quickly dawned on him – it was Valentine's day!
Blake had completely forgotten, and had neglected to pick up a gift or make real plans with her. They had been together for well over a year, leading him to take their relationship for granted. In fact, Valentine's as a whole seemed like a pain. It's not like he was going to really get anything out of it that he wouldn't normally. Still, as bothersome as it was, Blake knew that Marissa would be quite irate if he didn't at least go through the basic motions.
He sent a reply, informing her that he would swing by her place in a couple hours for a comfy night in. Marissa quickly responded, and while she seemed somewhat disappo
V-Day Extensions: Goldie"That was great!" you giggle.V-Day Extensions: Goldie1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
Goldie smiles, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"How did you even manage to get in there?" you ask, "I mean, that's probably the nicest restaurant in this country! You'd have to make reservations months ahead, and not to mention the cost!"
"The owner and I are good friends," Goldie says, "And as for money...The owner of the pizzeria makes enough to spare."
You giggle and sigh contentedly, "I really did enjoy that. That's the best dinner I've ever been taken out to."
"I try," he smiles playfully.
"It's only six PM," you note, checking your phone, "We still have plenty of time to spare."
"And nowhere else to go," he sighs.
"We could always go back to my place," you say, "Curl up and watch a movie. You did promise me some snuggling with my teddy bear, after all."
He grins, "If that's what you want."
~AND SO WE TELEPORT TO YOUR FLAT~
"It's so sad!" you whimper as you watch the TV through your tears.
Oh, of all things you'd picked, it was some rea
Judy's 'Heaven of Food' - Part 1Judy’s “Heaven of Food”Judy's 'Heaven of Food' - Part 11 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
Part 1 of 2
WARNING!!! This story is about feederism, intentional weight gain and extreme obesity!
Don't like that? Don't read that!
Judy was angry. “Why do they do that?” She was sitting in front of her TV with a bag of potato chips in her hand. “They should be happy to be like that!” She shook the bag and the last potato crumbs fell into her mouth. “It is not fair! They don´t deserve such a body!” She was watching a commercial of the latest dieting-drink and saw a lot of skin-and-bone-girls holding up pictures of themselves ,which showed them when they were fatter, saying stuff like ‘Thank God, I´m thin now! It´s like a new life!’ “
Neko!Levi x Reader - Pay Attention to me Dammit!Neko!Levi x Reader - Pay Attention to me Dammit!1 week ago in Romance More Like This
"(y/n)! (y/n)! (y/n) (y/n)!!!!!!" Groaning, I turn around only to be glomped by no other than the madwoman herself. Hanji. Grabbing my hands in hers, she presses her face into mine. I try to pull away, but it was to no use.
"(y/n)! I need you immediately!"
My eyes widen, and I snap into action. "What happened? Did you do another experiment on Eren and hurt him or someone else?" Hanji fake pouted. "How rude (y/n)! No it was nothing like that. In fact it has to do with something with Levi."
At the sound of the Corporal's name, I narrow my eyes. "I will ask again. What happened?" An evil smirk played across her face. "You'll see! Just come on!" Linking her hand in mine, she yanks me through the corridors. Pass confused cadets wondering what the hell is going on, and other members on the Survey Corps shaking their heads, letting out knowing groans.
Arriving at the large double doors of her lab, she pushes them open. "Hey shorty! I've got her
to the woman who drowned herself in the bathtub.i.to the woman who drowned herself in the bathtub.3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
to the woman who drowned herself in the bathtub:
in the magazine I own that published your story,
they blurred out the crime scene photographs,
erasing your face and
the full curves of your breasts.
some part of me wonders
if you would have wanted this,
or if you would have liked for
the public to see you in your final moments,
half-soaked in grey-looking water,
your hair in strings, glued to the porcelain,
eyes closed and mouth gaping,
no breath stirring, no bubbles rising.
sometimes when I look
into the depths of my bathroom sink,
I hear your voice
(or what I imagine it to be--
after all, we never met).
you sit on the edge of the toilet seat,
and chat to me about the weather.
I would give anything to hear your real, living voice,
to ask you what you were thinking
as you lowered yourself
into the tub, queen of the tendrils of steam,
and let your lungs deflate like old birthday balloons.
on the news they say that your autopsy
revealed three quarters
of a bottle o
Iceland x Reader - Jump scareIceland x Reader - Jump scare1 week ago in Short Stories More Like This
(Name) knew that her Icelandic friend, Emil, wasn't one for horror movies. Not that it stopped her from forcing him to watch a few of said genre in a row. By the end of their fifth, (Name) was too scared to go to the bathroom and Emil wasn’t sure if he should keep looking at the screen or turn away and see a ghost.
The blond European was made of a sturdy material, viking blood ran through his veins and he had borne through more than most. As such, he had created a cool and composed exterior, one that wasn’t normally cracked. He would blush when embarrassed and fume when angered, he was human after all. He just prefered taking things on an easier and slower stride.
Gulping, he watched the main character turn painstakingly slow to face a mirror, and behind their reflection was the heavily makeuped ghost. (Name) jolted and Emil would have been lying if he said he hadn’t as well. Jump-scares normally got to him, and apparently his (h/c
the last poem i write about my depressioni want you to know that it took me yearsthe last poem i write about my depression1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
to figure out the worst part. cause, sure, there’s
so many bad parts, there’s so many moments
when dragging air through your mouth feels
like letting in all the water. your body becomes
your own battlefield, your mind—the most
ruthless enemy. it does not cut corners.
it will not spare you. it will leave
no summer-tinted memory untouched.
every exit sign looks like a suggestion.
if you ask someone if they are happy they will say yes
but they will not look you in the eyes.
you will never learn how to feel permanent.
you will drink grape juice and try to remember how it felt
to be holy. you will not think of yourself as wholly,
you are not complete. something vital is missing.
some dark monster has been feasting on you
when you lay down for sleep.
these are bad moments. these are scars that mar your skin
like tattoos that have too much meaning, like a map
of all the dirt roads you’ve walked down.
some days i can
Six Word Stories~She's far stronger than you think.Six Word Stories~5 days ago in Free Verse More Like This
I love you: three deadly words.
Be careful; she's a delicate butterfly.
Can't the peace overcome the hate?
You and I, we are perfect.
His lips are warm, for now.
Hold me until dawn's subtle light.
He's rare, don't loosen your grip.
Your lethal words aren't welcome here.
You mean the world to her.
Use more tact the next time.
His heart is torn to pieces.
You only gave her shattered glass.
He had my heart held captive.
I Noticed That You Killed YourselfI saw that you drowned in your blood again.I Noticed That You Killed Yourself3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
Saw your wrist sliced into shreds,
amber water filling the tub to the rim.
Tell me next time so I can bring a boat,
so I can sing your elegy as your breath
escapes your throat.
So I can proclaim your cowardice to all who will hear,
so I can disguise my own anger with
words of praise to their ears.
Perhaps I'll swim away with you too,
but I'd rather not I suppose,
you left me too soon.
I guess this is a goodbye, at least it's not in phony text.
Though I would've loved it if you
told me, that the girl I loved would permanently make me her ex.
I guess my love wasn't enough to save you,
late nights at your window, or coaxing you to eat,
meant nothing to you.
Hours of listening and wasting sleep,
staying with you until exhaustion brought you peace.
I guess my determination wasn't a necessity.
Perhaps I should have taken the knife,
but the one time I did that, you nearly took my life.
So I'll watch you sadly as you drown in your blood,
and I'll sad
Sebastian x Child Reader: Her Butler, ValentineSebastian x Child Reader: Her Butler, Valentine1 month ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sebastian x Child Reader
Her Butler, Valentine
It was February 14th and as the sun rose on this very special day, the snow from the night before sparkled as if it had been touched by magic. It was Valentine’s Day once again, and all of London seemed to embrace it with welcome arms. Every shop and café had decorations of hearts and red and pink banners, and there were more flower bouquets than could ever be sold- in spite of the cold weather. And though it was still quite early in the morning, lovers walked through the cobbled streets hand in hand with nothing but smiles. All in all, it was the perfect scene to symbolize the romantic holiday. . . Though in the center of the great city, there was one stately town house near the center of London’s elite class, where there was not a single decoration to be had.
It was the second abode of the Earl of Phantomhive- and current
Sam DiscoversNina didn't come home one night.Sam Discovers1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
The next morning, as I sat down to eat breakfast, she walked through the door looking a mess, belly bulging further than usual, powdered sugar around her mouth, her hair tangled, holding on to half a dozen donuts and the tattered remains of the red dress I bought her about twenty pounds ago, destroyed from the inside out.
"What happened last night?" I asked, hoping not to seem pushy, "No call, no text, you seriously had me worried!"
She blushed, "Oh! Sorry, I went out with a bunch of girls from work, and we went to a movie, so I had to turn my phone off. Then we got a little drunk, so none of us could drive back." She walked towards me with an angelic smile, raising a suggestive eyebrow and cradling her heavy, bulging stomach, "I made sure we ordered some pizza, got some ice cream, and I may have..." she pulled me closer, pressing her bulging belly against my chest, groaning at the sudden pressure, "Woomph, I think I ate just a little too m
Guilt that eatsMaybe I should have questionedGuilt that eats1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
why your teeth always chattered
like fingers clicking on a typewriter,
and why your fingernails
looked as though faint, blue ink
had bled through
but who questions anything
at the age of sixteen
and maybe I should have noticed
the lunches you spent
or listening to music,
as you gave away your lunch,
because you said
you were not hungry-
and I silently thought
more for me
and maybe I should have wondered
why you walked through the hallways
with pockets of graphite
under your eyes,
as your knees knocked together
like keys on a lanyard:
and maybe then
I wouldn't sit here with guilt
that eats at me-
like you never did.
It Was Never You...It really wasn't...It Was Never You...1 week ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I know that I can twist this truth as much as I want...
Whenever I'm sober, when I know I can put up that fake plastic smile;
Just a few formal words that burn like acid from a liar's lips!
"Differences in personality, a divergence in ideals..."
Please, fucking, SPARE ME!
Because when I look in this mirror, I know.
When I see myself looking back at me, I know.
Right here, right in front of my own blackened self;
Those eyes that both reflect and stare into my dingy soul.
I was the problem.
I was the instigator.
I was the perpetrator.
And when I had broken every last bit of her,
I was the one, who let it all fall to pieces.
So please, you don't have to feel sorry for me,
I am a bastard and I've got a very special place in hell waiting for me...
- Word of Chen, Darkest Hour, 16th February 2015
She told me to write.She told me to writeShe told me to write.2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
So I did.
But now I'm left in a pile of poems and prose
That no one will ever get to read.
Feeling more emotions than I have in years
Too afraid to let them see that side of me.
My lies are bigger than I am now
So I walk in their shells
Attempting to pretend that I know what I'm doing.
She told me to write
Because what I make is beautiful
That the way my words twist and contrast
Make her interested.
That my raw emotion speaks to her
But she only saw my most prized pieces
Would my average work disappoint?
She told me to write
To let others see how I feel
Express myself in a way
That maybe they can comprehend
And attempt to understand.
But how can they possibly understand
When I'm too afraid to show them
What I actually feel like.
She told me to write
To work towards being okay
To continue putting one foot in front of the other
Because it was the only thing keeping me alive.
So I tried.
Fictional CharactersFictional characters are who we meet,Fictional Characters1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as we read the pages of a book.
We fall in love with them,
For their traits, and lives, despite not even knowing how they look.
Chivalrous, courageous, villainous and vile,
We each pick and choose who we like.
For these characters are more than you think,
when a reader invites them into their life.
Time and again, we’re told it’s fake,
That the stories, and tales don’t exists.
That the characters we love who fight monsters and dragons,
vanish when the story ends.
I know it sounds crazy, to say that for me,
A fictional character is real.
That I see him as more, than a page in a book
he’s something that I can touch and feel.
For many who read, create their own worlds,
because reality is just too much to take.
When life gets confusing, stressful or tragic
we feel like we just want to break.
There’s no one to comfort us, not even our friends,
nor family, can understand what’s inside.
Because in actuality, though it
Step-Dad (Tony StarkXReader)Tony StarkXReaderStep-Dad (Tony StarkXReader)1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Good morning everyone.” I walk through the elevator doors to the penthouse floor of Stark Tower. The Avengers have a meeting this morning, so I had to come. We hold the meetings at Stark’s because we all know he’s not going to come unless we invade his house. “Joseph go watch TV till I’m done here, with my meeting.”
“What’s with the kid sweetheart?”
“Mrs. McCall, the old lady next door, had a doctor’s appointment today so she couldn’t babysit.”
“Why do you have him with you anyway?”
“He’s my son Tony.” I look at him with a straight face, and can’t believe he is asking me this.
“Wow, didn’t know you were married, let alone that you have a kid.”
“I’m not married. Joseph is from an ex-boyfriend. He left me when he found out I was pregnant. Now, can we get on with the meeting?”
“Of course Agent (Last).” Fu