Detective!PrussiaxPartner!Male!Reader-Part One1 2 : 0 0 p m , t r a i n s t a t i o nDetective!PrussiaxPartner!Male!Reader-Part One2 years ago in Romance More Like This
You sat down on the bench, waiting for the next train to pass. The crowds of people surrounding you was unnerving as they chattered at the top of their lungs and all you tried to do was get through the first page of your book without having to start again.
You jumped at the sound of that loud, irritating laughter behind you. It wasn't familiar or anything, but it caught your attention. You looked over your shoulder to see a pale-skinned, red-eyed German at the cafe' with his two friends. A blond-haired, blue-eyed Frenchman and a unruly-haired, green-eyed Spaniard. The German had platinum blond hair and, accompanied by his seemingly porcelain white skin and his crimson eyes, you knew what he was.
"He shouldn't draw so much attention to himself," you muttered those insensitive words under your breath before returning to the book in your hands.
"I... Mi amigo, I couldn't do that to you..."
"Kesese! You know you vant to, Toni!
My letter to this world's homophobesMy letter to this world's homophobes2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Dear Homophobes; A letter/poem written by me.
Dear homophobes: I don't recall asking for your opinions on my sexuality or my love life.
But just to clarify, in a short and simple way; My sexuality, just like yours, won't change.
I was born this way, and that is not something you can change.
Your opinions on my "lifestyle" mean less than dirt to me.
Here's a fact that might help, too; My sexuality will never change, but your attitude can.
I will always be gay, just as you'll always be It's not something we choose.
However, I can, and will, choose to live a life of tolerance and acceptance.
It's a choice you can make too; Live a loving, fulfilling life of acceptance, or live an empty life full of hatred.
Please think of this from now on.
Your hatred is not welcome in a world of love.
Your discrimination suffocates the happiness of thousands.
You tear us apart with your deep hatred.
We will not fight your hatred with more hatred.
Rather, we shall counter your hate with our love.
SMIH - Bad Touch Triox!Male!Reader - InvoluntarilyYeah, this one's a uke!Reader story that got requested, so....Why, the fuck not?SMIH - Bad Touch Triox!Male!Reader - Involuntarily2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sighing, you pulled out a folded piece of paper. You studied the various reactions of the countries in the room. And when you unfolded the piece of paper, your heart sank.
It was a colored drawing with crayon, and it was divided into three parts, one had an army of turtles, and it was labeled, "Tomato Army!!!", the second part had a wine bottle and hearts around it, and the third one had a drawing of what looked like the chibi Teutonic Knights with a peace sign saying "I'm awesome!"
You couldn't think of anything rational to do, except groan inwardly. You couldn't refuse, because those three were persistent. They were also extremely annoying. And they were a biiit easy on the eyes.
You got up from your seat and made your way to the closet. "All right, but make it quic
Britain's Worst NightmareBritain's Worst Nightmare2 years ago in Humor More Like This
It was just another quite day. Britain sat in a chair, an open book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He smiled in contentment as he heard the birds chirping from outside and he sipped his Earl Gray. And the best part of all, nobody had bothered the nation all day.
Knock knock knock
Until now that is.
Britain sighed and slapped his book shut. He set it and his half finished tea aside and rose from his comfy chair, heading to the door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“I'm coming! I'm coming!” the Brit snapped, biting back a smart remark. He was a gentleman after all. He placed a hand on the door knob and turned it. As soon as he answered the door though, he regretted it instantly.
“Bonjour L'angattere~” the Frenchman purred. However instead of his normal attire of red pants, boots and a dark blueish purple colored shirt and cloak, France was wearing-much to Arthur's shock and horror- a white wedding dress with a veil and e
School, Friends, and Love?! School, Friends, and Love?! (An SnK AU ??? x Male!Reader)School, Friends, and Love?!2 years 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
The Last UnicornThe Last Unicorn2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The loud, slurred screetch of Scotland broke the quiet nighttime silence, only succeeding in causing the young boy, Arthur, to run faster.
Arthur sprinted through the forest as fast as his little legs could carry him. His cloak flapping wildly behind him and his shaggy blond locks going in all directions.
And why exactly was he running through the forest you ask? Well it was simple dear reader. He was trying to get away. Get away from his older brothers. Scotland, Ireland and Wales.
All three of them picked on the little country. Though Wales was nicer to him than Scotland and Ireland but even so. Arthur was constantly nursing the brusies and scrapes he received from his older siblings.
On this night in particular, Scotland and Ireland had decided to get into a drinking contest. And of coarse both of them being the stubborn men that they were, the two succeeded in drinking themselves off their rockers.
And unfortunately they both
Light and Dark: Chapter #2Light and Dark: Chapter #26 months ago in Drama More Like This
Chapter #2: Unlikely Heros
All this for a loaf of bread?
"GET BACK HERE!"
Riya looked back behind her to see she was still being pursued by the furious bread merchant. Honestly, all this trouble for one loaf of bread? He had more for craps sake!
Now I know what you're thinking dear reader: Why not just drop the bread and steal something else? Well the answer is simple; Riya would have had to stolen some type of food regardless be it bread, a fruit, some fish or whatever. Why go through the trouble of sneaking around only to risk getting caught and chased again when she already was holding the prize? Besides, all she had to do was lose the vender and she'd be home free.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
Riya panted and continued to run, turning down an abandoned street, her pursuer still hot on her heels.
"You can't run from me forever brat!"
"Not forever. Just until I get rid of you!" Riya spat back. She gulped realizing her mistake as this only infuriated
Schizophrenia"Hear that?"Schizophrenia6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
They never do
Cazar ideasCazar ideas4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
No hay nada más frustrante que un artist block y para mí no hay nada más frustrante que leer eso de alguien más.
Sé que deben haber otros tuts con cómo salir de un artist block, así que simplemente me basaré en cómo pueden cazar la inspiración, estén bloqueados o no, pero primero deben responder a la pregunta:
¿Me satisface lo que hago?
Si están bloqueados es porque necesitan simplemente un cambio de aires, uno se aburre hasta de lo que más le gusta hacer. Ahora, si están bloqueados tipo "nada me sale" o "no puedo hacer nada" y el cambio de aires no es una idea a aceptar, lo tomaría como que son esclavos de lo que hacen y por eso tanto su imaginación como su cuerpo (el "plasmador" de obras) se rebelan. Pongan atención a sus estados y no vayan en su contra, eso empeora el caso. Si ya no pueden dibujar, escriban, si no escriben, lean, vean películas, hagan deporte, jueguen videojue
Anything you can find:"They're wicked," whispers Deputy Mack, when he thinks we aren't listening. "Beautiful, but wicked."Anything you can find:3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It makes Noah smirk from the front desk, where Clara Wynn, the dispatcher, is sneaking him sips from her hip flask while she profiles him. DePrince, she writes, Noah Thomas. Age: 12. Hair: Black. She puzzles over the color of his eyes before penning gray on the line, a rarity that gives us an edge, which we use like a scalpel. Noah flickers eyes like new nickels whenever we want something. Today is the Friday after the funeral and we are sick for answers, so we ask Clara if she will take our mug shots.
"I'll find some film," she says, disappearing into the back room. The door taps shut behind her. Deputy Mack and Sheriff Spellis are still arguing about us in the office, their voices a low rumble of contention, so we slip off our chairs and spread out through the station.
"Obituaries, photos, police reports," says Noah, fanning a stack of files across the desk. "Hur
The Author's VanityDescriptions mean nothing. I could sit here and describe for you a million fairytale paradises, a thousand grimy streets, a hundred marble banquet halls. I could paint you a picture of weather- one so real you can taste the heavy warmth of the thunderstorm on the horizon, feel the plump droplets melt against you skin, see the erie yellow light that turns all the houses into paper cut-outs of themselves. I can carry you into the heart of a raging blizzard, leave you there to be bitten and gnawed by frozen, invisible jaws- the screaming fangs that dig deep into your bones-The Author's Vanity4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And I could take you out again, pluck you up with agile fingers- ones that know their craft- ones that never feel a need to hesitate or tremble. Perfect fingers comprised of words alone, built with layers of understanding and strengthened by ignorance. In these fingers- in these hands- you will feel safe and I shall feel strong, and I shall lift you up and out of the storm I have created, and la
Hetalia-High Fill-in Challenge!~HETALIA HIGH FILL IN CHALLENGE~Hetalia-High Fill-in Challenge!3 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 #
Like Us.You're beautifulLike Us.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
( If you're
You're worthy of love
( If you
Pop those pills baby grrrrl,
Pop pop pop)
That boy will love you honey
1. Bend Over
2. Make a sammich
3. Be silent)
You want to be part of the group don't you?
Don't you, don't you?
We grin (and groan) when they tell us.
Come ring around the rosy with us; climb the monkey bars with us; Rule the playground with us
Come on, be p o p u l a r with us
(We MoanAndGroanUnhUnh and don't forget to smile when they tell us too)
Be a BFF baby girl
Laugh loud with us so all the little people stare
You're beautiful, aren't you?
And you can be worthy of love
That boy will love you baby
P O P U L A R
To the girl I hit Id never given an eulogy in my life and now for my first time, I was expected to give a speech about a girl I didnt know at all.To the girl I hit8 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
OK, maybe a girl I didnt know at all is somewhat untrue; I knew Abigail decades ago and by sick chance I had run her over a few days back, her parents remembered me and demanded I give the eulogy (new age grief therapy?)
Well here goes nothing: I hardly knew Abigail but in her last moments she showed me true kindness, forgiving me for my sin even though she wasnt ready to die (this was of course a lie, she jumped in front of my car screaming suicide, but her parents didnt need to
Fake Friends And See Through Lies"I'm fine"Fake Friends And See Through Lies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How dare you people listen to my lies. They are more see though than a window, yet you say nothing more.
"I asked her how she was and she said fine"
Yeah that's what I said, but what I meant was completely different. Instead of helping me, you leave me alone. You did your job, good for you! No, you did the bare minimum. A.k.a nothing.
I'm not fine
I'm not alright
And I'm defiantly not happy
I'm so sick I rip at my own flesh
Trying to get the hell away from all the sadness of this world
You really want to know how I feel?
And I'm tired of this shit
Let me tell you a story
About a poor little girl
Who got left alone,
Just like me
She went crazy
And tried to kill herself
So many times she lost count
The only reason she's still alive today
Is that God refused to allow her to die.
Did you like that story?
Did you know it's true?
Do you even care that that's my story?
Or that I need help?
You ignore me
Try to make me
Drummer BoyI met Sam as an afterthought. He was a drummer in a rock band, if one could call a bunch of guys in a basement with a randomly-generated name a rock band. They could have been called Mystic Cargo or Voodoo Syndrome or Dairy Shelf, for all I knew. What I did know was that I had my first gig in a couple of weeks and that I needed a band to back me up. As a high school student with no connections, I didn’t have much choice. As a trio with a number of original songs and nowhere to play them, neither did they.Drummer Boy2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As a drummer, Sam defied all stereotypes. His hair was long, curling upward and outward like a helmet, and he wore glasses that were always falling off the tip of his nose by the end of a song. Most surprising to me was his composure. He didn’t have that indefatigable energy found in a stereotypical drummer, the kind you see on TV who smash their head against the air as if it were solid. Sam’s head shook when he played, yes; but it was a slinky instead of a hammer, b
Love and Eighth-Grade ScienceMy loveLove and Eighth-Grade Science3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is like white light,
comprised of the entire color spectrum,
but for now it has been diffused into its original components
by the prism you have set forth.
The colors are brilliant but aimless,
mere echoes between empty walls.
is like potential energy, waiting
to be converted to kinetic energy,
at top speed and with incredible momentum.
but first, you have to push.
Drunk Ramblings...Have I ever told you about my brush with the Giant Gorilla People of Kenya? Nine feet tall! Chests as wide as bureau cases. That's what bureaus are shipped in, you know.Drunk Ramblings...5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We were walking through the jungle. And came upon a vast clearing. 60 feet across. Fearing the dangers of the dark jungle, I decided to lead the team into the clearing to make our camp. We reached the center and began to pitch our tents. Mind you it was pitch black, but for our lanterns. Dead of night with barely a sliver of moon.
Never truly relaxed, I still felt a certain degree of reassurance. I felt this place would be safe. It wasn't until we got the fire going that I felt something watching us. I kept stealing glances into the murky darkness of the jungle that surrounded us. Under our chatter and the clatter of pots, I could hear a dark murmuring. As the meal came to a close, I put my back to the fire. When my colleagues asked why, I bluffed them. I told them my back was cold and I wished to warm it be
SoulXMaka: Erased, chapter 1"Oi, Maka, slow down a bit. Why're you so excited?" Soul grumbled loudly as the two walked down the school hall. Classes were finished for the day. More extracurricular lessons were posted up on the board, but Soul just wanted to go home. He was tired as hell because he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.SoulXMaka: Erased, chapter 17 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Baaaaka! Don't you remember? We've got 96 souls already! We're almost finished getting the number of souls we need to make you a Death Scythe!" she exclaimed half-heartedly. She spoke while staring at the board the whole time, contemplating what mission they should take on. "Here! This one!" She pointed at a sheet of paper.
"Eh? What is it?" Soul snatched the sheet off the board and read it out in his mind. Souls have been mysteriously disappearing in the town of Yokano. Find the threat and eliminate it as quickly as possible. Mission Requirements: Soul Perception. "Yokano isn't too far from Death City..."
"So? We gonna take it?"
"... Hmm." Soul replied, handing the sheet o
SH: The Boy and His SkullSH: The Boy and His Skull5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I don't understand these grades at all, isn't he settling in?"
Sherlock was up in his room and he could hear his father's voice downstairs the slightly pleading note in it that the man always got when he was trying desperately to understand something that confused him which, in this intellectually acute household, was often.
"I mean, I understand that the move to secondary school has been hard on Sherlock, but these are just.....I mean, he's a very clever child, I don't understand. How can he fail everything?"
"Weren't you supposed to be looking out for him, Mycroft?" he heard his mother accuse, her voice stronger, attempting to take action. Having been a teacher herself some years ago, she rather dominated this conversation, pushing his father back to only making empathetic but generally useless comments.
"I can only do so much, mum." Mycroft replied, sounding offended. "I can hardly force him to make friends, or participate in class, and if he doesn't bloody well sp