Lucky Chance: SpainXReaderNoise pollution. Who coined the term again?Lucky Chance: SpainXReader3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Rhythms blasted in discord and words paraded all over the room. Chaos. Chaos everywhere. The lights were out and only the glow from the TV screen allowed you to see.
You couldn't figure out whether you should be happy about letting your friends decide on how to celebrate your day. Arthur instantly won their support by suggesting to go singing in a karaoke bar. They were sick of swallowing grease from Alfred's food preferences and so were you and besides, you were always up for an adventure.
You could only smile at your unbelievable friends. It was a good thing that they decided to rent a sound-proof compartment that only had two microphones, or else you wouldn't have a face to show from your embarrassment.
"Happy birthday, _____________!"
They cheered and sang you the most popular song in the world.
"Thank you, guys!" You said, giving them a tearful look, astonished that your sense of hearing still wasn't distorted.
Alfred and Arthur sn
Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!!!Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!!!3 years ago in Romance More Like This
[Prussia X Reader-To the Bar We Go!]
Authors Note: I do not own Hetalia or Gilbert (though I'm not sure if I want him to be mine) they belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and you belong to Mother Russia da?
You lie on your right side hugging a pillow and hiding your face in it, you were lying on the edge of the bed facing Gilbert.
"I'm not going to rape you frau." He laughed as he propped up his head with his left elbow, watching you.
"Yeah well I'm afraid of what you MIGHT do." You laughed, peeking through the pillow. Gilbert shook his head and smiled at you.
"I wouldn't do anything to hurt you frau." He said.
You had been friends with Gilbert for as long as you can remember and you had been dating him for seven years now, Gilbert had asked you if you wanted to take your relationship one step further by living with him, you two had bought a house in a nice neighborhood and you had told him of your concerns about doing certain 'stuff' outside of wedlock and he had SURPRISINGLY taken in qui
The Man in the Coffee ShopThe man who works at the coffee shop looks like you. I noticed this some time ago and have since frequented the place. He recognizes me now. He smiles at me when I come in. His smile even looks like yours. He doesn't say hey though- you always said hey.The Man in the Coffee Shop4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I still work at the library even though you're not there.
Sometimes I look over to your desk and expect to see you typing at your computer, but someone else is there now. It's not you.
Sometimes someone will come in who looks like you. Maybe he will have the same hair, same stature, same profile, same laugh, same voice. It's never been you.
Sometimes I drive myself crazy. I pull at my hair and scream 'till my lungs burst. I scream for and at you. I ask how you could have left me here.
Sometimes I allow myself to believe that I will see you again. By chance we will run into each other in a Wal-Mart far away.
I go to the coffee shop on Tuesday afternoons. I order a small chai tea with milk.
Sometimes the man is working at th
SilenceIt is thereSilence3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When I ask if he still loves me
And the rebounding quiet screams
His unspoken response.
And the occasional reluctant verbal translations:
"I don't want to talk about this"
"We are not having this conversation"
Codify this as the official language of our domestic domain.
"Only silence is spoken here."
It is there
When I ask my child:
"Why have you done this thing?
Endangered yourself, hurt me, hurt others,"
And her reply consists only of a murderous glare.
How dare I break the house rule and speak the forbidden tongue?
And I'm left to wonder if she even cares.
Do my words even matter?
Am I even here at all?
It is there
When my best ideas are offered aloud.
Did I misinterpret the fact that I was elected to this position?
Was it a perception of reticence that was my sole qualification?
My words echo off the walls in the absence of noise that follows,
Meriting nary even an acknowledgment,
Just the deafening roar of soundlessness
Admonishing me for
Breaking this hallowed silence
Blue Eyed Childhood: AmericaXReader(NOTE: If you're American, assume another nationality)Blue Eyed Childhood: AmericaXReader3 years ago in Drama More Like This
The taxi driver thanked you for the generous tip and bid you a happy and safe trip. In a few hours, you would be leaving the Land of the Free.
You looked around and sighed. The John F. Kennedy Airport seemed so unkind with all the sadness you were carrying in your heart. There used to be so much excitement in the place when you first set foot in it more than a week ago. But now that you were leaving with such heavy thoughts, you only reminisced the past two weeks because you couldn't revive the feeling anymore
Your colleague, who was sitting by the window, squealed like a giddy child. "Hey look, we're already here!"
You were in a deep slumber when she did so, but you ignored the disturbance. You took a peek outside the window to stop her from squealing. The view from above made you understand how your colleague felt. The sun smiled so brightly at the Manhattan skyscrapers. It was simply spectacular.
The plane had landed. It t
NewbornI.Newborn3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
There was a girl who was crooked in all the wrong places. Her knees were knobbly and pale, scabbed and thin in the morning sun; her heart misshapen, her brain foggy. Everything about her was defective, a time bomb. She was rotten on the inside. Erratic breathing would disappear into the thick mist of a hot shower as she tried to wash away her imperfections, and when that didn't work, she tried to snip them away.
December 15th, 2009 was the first time. She just couldn't help herself and neither could anyone else so she hurt herself instead. Pain was suddenly the most amazing sensation she'd ever experienced, or maybe just the only sensation she could experience. Red was suddenly her favorite color. She didn't think she would ever look back. It was wonderful.
This is when it began: the secret that now defined her life. She wrote poetry, so much poetry - the words were practically leaking out of her ears, clouding up her vision. She wanted to believe that no