School, Friends, and Love?! School, Friends, and Love?! (An SnK AU ??? x Male!Reader)School, Friends, and Love?!4 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The [h/c] male nervously pulled at his dark green school uniform blazer as he approached the prestigious prep school. ‘I don’t know… Did I make the right choice coming here?’ the teen wondered to himself as he walked up the steps to the large wooden doors which had the school’s emblem carved into the elegant dark wood doors. The male stopped to observe said emblem and noticed it resembled wings. ‘Hm, just like on my blazer.’ He thought as he reached for the gold plated door handle and pulled one large door open. What met his [e/c] orbs was a rather large court yard with a few benches and
Hetalia-High Fill-in Challenge!~HETALIA HIGH FILL IN CHALLENGE~Hetalia-High Fill-in Challenge!2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Number your favorite Hetalia characters in no particular order, 1 through 10.
1. It's time for school and you're just about ready to go. Just then, someone knocks on your door so that you two can walk to the bus stop together. It's #5! How do you greet each other this fine morning?
2. Once you get to the bus stop you are tackled from behind in a tight glomp by #8. Is this a glomp that you shall return or no?
3. Finally, the freaking bus is here. Once you step on though, #2 drags you into the seat next to them so that #9 doesn't sit next to them. Do you have any idea what's going on up with those two?
4. The bus ride to school was "interesting" but you're glad to finally be at school. How look, #3 is by you're locker waiting for you! You have to get your books for class, so is this good or bad?
5. With your books in hand, you make your way over to your usual meeting place to see your friends before class. #1, #4 and #
Never Judge a Book by its Odour"I was somewhere along the banks of the Amazon river when I noticed the Stench. It was there that I noticed it, I say, but I'm sure it had been around ever since I disembarked from my balloon. It was a new place, and there were so many interesting new sights, sounds and smells that one presence in particular can sort of pass you by, you know?"Never Judge a Book by its Odour2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Why did you notice the Stench just then?" I asked.
"Well, you see, it was the way the trees moved. There was a fair bit of wind, but when the Stench was there they really racketed around. Frankly, I'm surprised I didn't notice it sooner. But I suppose I was distracted. After all, it's not every day you get a chance to document the movements of the Amazonian leaf eel. Unless you're a leaf eel biologist. But if you were, I imagine you'd get a bit sick of it sooner or later. Now where was I...oh yes! The Stench. The Stench was really quite remarkable."
I could imagine so. If it wasn't I would hardly be hearing a story about it.
"Yes. As I say, I ha
Battling Time.Battling Time.8 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
☆ Battling Time.
What is this un-explainable thing we call time.
So fierce and absolute, that I can cannot hope to out climb.
Immeasurable in length, larger than life, with considerable strength.
I remember looking forward to catching up with it, dreaming of the day I 'grew up' per say, everything I knew becoming passionate and less 'elastic'- believing it would get better day after day.
I don't remember if I passed it, but I do know I can outlast it.
How blind we are in our youth, ignorant even with proof.
Envisioning the future without thought, reason, or rhyme- before ever earning the right.
Without wisdom in maturity reaching its prime.
Accidental lives until the end of time, believing that everything is part of simple design.
A better way I a
The Birth of a Writer“Mom! I put six words together!”The Birth of a Writer1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
A Biological ImperitiveIs 60 years of sadness a year too many?A Biological Imperitive2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The weight of failure on shoulders feeling the steady crush of time
Too much to bear any further than the station,
the tracks, the 21.13 to Paddington,
Dragging behind like a ball,
a chain, a constant reminder that
you'd dreamt a life greater than this?
In that moment of artificial flight
(body in air, body on steel, accelerated to 100 m
Smile -Chap.1, SouMaka-Maka groaned groggily as she slammed her palm against the source of the annoying beeping sound she hadnt heard for over two months. Two full months of sleeping in, watching TV all day and generally doing nothing with her summer break; then school decided to sneak up on her. Not just school.Smile -Chap.1, SouMaka-6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Public high school.
Her family was very humble about being slightly richer than everyone else in the city. They lived in a normal home, with a normal lifestyle, except for the occasional expensive gift or pricey dinner. They spent their fortune mostly on Makas school. Shed gone to a private school her whole life, but now it was different. She was going into grade nine, the beginning of high school, and she wouldnt know anyone because it was her first year with a regular, less-pricey education.
Maka found herself walking out of her room without realizing it, her legs dragging her away from her nice, cozy bed, and into the hell that was the morning. She plumped he
Goready set violetGo5 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
the small stuff jet
risk of wonder
to human blunder
no more words
until we set the anchor free
I would go to the ends of the earth
if only to prove my own worth
and I've known ever since birth
that we are night
and we are light
lost and 'round
and 'round we found
safe and bound
and what party
hale and smarty
until we set the record straight
wake up mirror
look into the dreamer
are you b-side
with the satisfied
or are you inside
with what's beside the point?
what do you see?
are you what you want the world to be?
una historia de distancia El reloj frente a ella marcó las 7:20, aún esperaba al capitán quien, aunque fuera un hombre agradable, también era algo impuntual, pero no podía culparlo, en Lo Bajo no eran muy comunes los relojes, ni los relojeros, sus habitantes no eran precisamente del tipo preocupado por medir el tiempo, y aunque así fuera, tampoco es como si las aves pudieran llevar un reloj en sus alas; había visto a algunos con relojes en las patas pero quizás eso representaba un simple adorno o lujo, quién sabe, nunca había tenido la oportunidad de preguntarles, los seres alados con los que solía convivir la chica en Lo Bajo nunca habían portado ningún tipo de ornamenta similar.una historia de distancia1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
–Medir el tiempo es absurdo –mencionó uno de los gigantescos cuervos con los que solía quedarse estando en Lo Bajo- meras invenciones ridículas de la gente en Lo Alto ¿Crees t
Screaming at the BeastHow many have I had? Why would you ask such a question?Screaming at the Beast10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've had--only three! Yes, three I swear.
What? No--of course not, what are you suggesting.
Those: I can't quite see them clearly. Oh! Oh dear...
No, you, you must understand this was--just a bit of relaxation,
A little sip to help me sleep.
No--No, don't cry, I'm not going back to those days; I'm not!
I swear it was just--just a passing shower I...
It's just been hard...
It's been so difficult!
WHERE WAS I SUPPOSED TO TURN?
But it's not your fault, I know that.
I suppose I was simply looking for an excuse...
I was drowning you know, in the icy water.
Cold enough to freeze the lungs.
I stopped and simply drifte
The TranslatorMalena was born on the third of April, a heady Aries and a talented translator. She only waited for so long before she put her foot down and took charge of her destiny, riding it like a child of the sea would a dolphin.The Translator3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She began her job with diligent care from the moment she first awakened from the drowsiness of the very young and into the slow comprehension of children. She first translated her own simple thoughts to the world in an agonized cry - 'I'm hungry! I'm hungry!' - first in the Spanish words of her parents and then repeated in the strange, native Tupi dialect of her Mestizo nanny. The dark-skinned woman had gasped in fear and tried to cover the child's mouth before any of those of the house heard and fired her for teaching Malena to speak the wrong language. But before she could even reach out towards the tiny mouth, the great wooden doors of the child's room burst open to admit Malena's fiery, proud mother. 'She speaks! Oh, she speaks!' the Spanish lady cried, waving a whi
Deviant HeartIndifferent stereoscopy ofDeviant Heart11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
all things photography,
playground philosophy on
Lonesome masturbation on
colonoscopy revelations of a
braindead barbie simulation.
Super artificial superficial art.
Smart phony Intel heart with
sharpened eyes and
cold plastic dreams.
ultra mega super ficial
photoshopped residual of a
11.3.12I write best11.3.122 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
When I’m undressed,
When there’s no part of me compressed—
With glasses perched upon my nose
But no socks to cover my toes,
No more blouse buttoned too tight
Because words always fit just right,
No skirt zipped up to my waist,
My ideas just fall into place,
No belt or scarf to weigh me down,
Instead let memories wrap around.
When words can brush across my skin,
There’s no need for clothes to be in.
Makers Of The Cage. Holders Of The Key.Our eyes are the closest thing we have to freedom.Makers Of The Cage. Holders Of The Key.8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
We see endless blue sky, and the stars beyond.
We see the beauty of the world.
We see our reflection in the mirror;
the reality, and the fantasy.
Our eyes see far and great.
But the rest of us cannot follow.
Our hands probe the steel bars around us.
Fumbling in the dark.
Cut by the sharp edges.
The bleeding never stops.
Our feet shuffle around.
Trying to go places.
But we walk in circles.
Our emotions go from red to blue;
orange to green;
yellow to purple,
mixing in a haze.
Our mind goes to dark places,
and only wanders deeper.
Oblivious to the place right next door.
It knows the freedom,
it knows the pit.
There are endless paths to take.
There's a cage we need to break.
There is a key ourselves create.
In our hands, it's never too late.
Dead WrongDear Boy with the Broken Eyes.Dead Wrong3 years ago in Letters More Like This
Just because they have always said it, things have always been difficult. And they are right. Life has always been difficult. Things will never happen the way you want them to happen. Broken hearts are so much easier to find than mended ones. And dreams? Well, if the world ran on dreams, we'd be building a whole new universe already, just to escape our own jaded one.
When I met you, you had already seen the worst of this world. They told you that you were not allowed to love because you couldn't do it the right way. They informed you that you weren't a poet, just a vagabond with tragic fingers on a broken instrument. They explained to you that you couldn't rise above anything because you just weren't special. And that every step of the way, they would be breaking you down, just to watch you fall.
Of course, they didn't mention that when you speak, your voice holds a lost song within it. And when you sleep, your guitar is an inch away from yo
Alive Like Dirt-Alive Like Dirt2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Winter vanished, a dream
Minutes after having woken;
The imprint and the lines
Still crisscrossing the edges
Of thought, retreating at my
Touch. It was important.
Though, I've lost it now.
Am reeling now.
I reached out, five distinct
Points forming a living symbol.
Catching the last flakes of snow
Between my forefinger
Like an angel thread seed.
I looked at my hands once,
At the neolithic lay lines
Carved in the clay
Fearless RevolutionOur generation needs to have a musical revolution soon, because I don't know how long I can take the same synth beats telling me over and over to put my drink up or get on the floor.Fearless Revolution3 years ago in Editorial More Like This
My heart's beatin' rhythm and my soul keeps a-singin' the blues ♥
Sometimes, we sit alone in our rooms and turn on our music and let our records take us back to were we belong. Some party with John, Paul, George and Ringo,
The Beatles will never die silly. They live in Strawberry Fields Forever. And that's where I shall live
And some with Mick and Keith. Kinks, Ramones, Nirvana,
those that look hopefully for the future and look very fondly on the past.
back when music actually meant something. Music is the only thing that makes sense
it's so nice to know that I'm not the only one that runs to music and my happy lala land where it's 1964 when things go badly
to us culturally diversified, rock n' roll hearted youngsters.
I'm proud to be a Beatle girl
Our hearts ar
To Be Said With A HandshakeI don't writeTo Be Said With A Handshake2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
out of any sort of knowledge;
I write because
I don't know
any of the answers.
This is my relaxation
between chasing girls
because having rivals is just
as thrilling as
getting the girl.
Trust me on this.
I do stupid
and I am not proud.
Trust me on this too.
I don't fight
for sport, but I know how to.
but I don't know any of the answers.
If you think you know,
I won't listen
without a kiss
(or a fist)
to the face first.
Trust me on this.
I rarely lie but,
I do stupid
and I am not proud.
Trust me on this too.
Going HomeGoing Home3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Paul McCartney rubbed his aching hands together in a fruitless attempt to make them stop aching. He stared longingly at his bass from where he sat in bed, and cursed his arthritis for crippling his hands that could once play music so beautifully. His eyes trailed over to the framed picture of him and his best mates, and a lump grew in his throat.
Those were the days. When he was just a young lad, that could hang out with his mates all day and play music for a living. There wasn't a day that had gone by after they all had broken up that he didn't wish for a time travel machine so he could go back.
"Hey Macca," a soft, farmilliar voice whispered behind him. Paul felt his heart stop, and he turned around quickly, fully expecting to see some crazy fan who had broken into his home. The man was leaning against his bedroom wall, arms crossed and head tilted up, taking on what Paul could only describe as a Teddy Boy stance. His auburn hair hung well past the normal length for boys in the old d
BBC SH - Valentine's ExplanationsTwo men were sat on a train, slumped comfortably into their chairs with the contented knowledge of a job well done.BBC SH - Valentine's Explanations2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The sun was setting and the cool February sky was bathing them with a warm pink glow. The cool blast of air from the open train door as passengers got on and off the stationary train was a mild irritant but only drew more attention to the soft, drowsy aura of warmth surrounding the seated passengers.
The satisfaction of the completed case had made Sherlock unusually relaxed, and he slouched into the soft woollen cocoon of his coat, eyes scanning the other passengers in a lazily observant manner.
"Alright John," He murmured. "The two men over there. Which one of them is the teacher? Go."
John smiled slightly as they continued their 'game'. "Right . . . they're both reading the children's exercise books . . . but the dark-haired one is actually marking them. He's the teacher."
"Excellent. And what subject are the books on?"
"Maths. No other exercise books come wi
Miss TakeShe's the one who persuades your inner child to hide behind the big-girl you. She can't be "friends" with someone who is immature.Miss Take3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
She's the one who discourages your other friends from talking to you, because she doesn't think they're good enough for you.
She's the one who makes you cry, and not from laughing too hard.
She's the one who spills all your secrets; she knows enough to write a book.
She's the one who does what you do, and tries to do it better.
She's the jealous one who tells you your boyfriend is cheating on you.
(She's the one who helps him cheat.)
She's the one holding the knife protruding from your spine. She's the one who never gives back what you gave. She's the one who hates everything about you.
She's the one mistake you wish you hadn't made.
Trust IssuesWhat if the reason your phone is busy is because you were talking to another girl?Trust Issues3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What if the reason you are out is because you're picking up someone else?
What if the girl you insist is just a friend is something a hell of a lot more?
What if the reason you looked at your ex's profile online was because you miss her?
What if the conversation we just had was in front of another woman and you both laughed at me?
What if the trip I've taken is a way for you to run off with someone else?
What if you are so dead inside from the women who have cheated on you, that you just don't think much of it if you do it to me?
What if you don't care if I'm in pain and hurting?
What if you are hiding something and just not telling me so you can have your cake and eat it too?
What if you don't notice if I don't call you for days?
What if you just don't care if I'm around or not?
What if the reason you play that song is because you are longing for someone else?
Or how about I just stop playing Harriet th