School, Friends, and Love?! School, Friends, and Love?! (An SnK AU ??? x Male!Reader)School, Friends, and Love?!1 year 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
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 One1 year 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!
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 #
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
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
Hetalia: The Price of FreedomHetalia: The Price of Freedom2 years ago in Drama More Like This
The sun was just about to set, ending another day. The sky was painted brilliant hues of orange, purple, pinks and a little bit of red. But the beautiful sunset went barely noticed by the lone figure who was busy climbing up the hill.
Alfred took his gloved hand out of his pocket and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. The hill was a lot steeper than he remembered. Then again it had been awhile since he'd been there.
When he finally reached the top, he slowed down, coming to a halt completely. He looked straight ahead at the silohette in the distance. He swallowed down the lump already beginning to form in his throat and walked forward.
He reached a gravestone sitting underneath the shade of the tree. America dropped down to his knees and stared at the smooth stone. He reached up and traced the words with his fingers.
Here lies Arthur Kirkland
A Mighty Nation,
How can I repay you brother of
My letter to this world's homophobesMy letter to this world's homophobes1 year 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
Weathering WoodsBIG MYSTERY IN SMALL TOWNWeathering Woods7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The town of Weathering has recently witnessed some strange events, beginning with the death of Melissa Carter, a local student of Big Bridge High School, that devastated students and teachers alike. Her body was found in the woods east of town, with multiple bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. Her throat had been slashed and her blood drained, making concerned parents wonder, is Weathering still a safe place to call home?
Not only that, but cats and dogs seem to be disappearing from households across town. Their corpses have all been found around a week after their disappearance in the same woods in which the police discovered Miss Carter’s body.
“We are still looking into this,” says police chief Allan Sanders. “Our top priority is the safety of our citizens and their children, and we will not stop until the perpetrators—
A hand slashes across the newspaper, crumpling it onto the table. The grease from my pizza seeps into the
ResplandorSe acerca un triste atardecer,Resplandor3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Teñido de color naranja,
Con su luz cobijando la ciudad,
Con su hedor manteniéndola encerrada.
Y la huella del hombre en el cielo,
Deslumbra con crueldad su mirada,
Matando el recuerdo del silencio,
Del firmamento una noche estrellada.
¿A dónde se han ido las estrellas?
Su brillo quisiera observar,
Mas el dominio del hombre en la tierra,
Sus huellas intenta borrar.
La plaga homosapiente todo cubre,
Sus colmenas nadie puede erradicar,
Y el sonido estridente de sus risas,
No deja oír a la tierra sollozar.
Así, perece el brillo de sus cielos,
Calma oscura no puedes encontrar,
Esta tierra agoniza en mano humana,
Y fuerzas no hay más para luchar.
two-fifty an hour.let me save you the trouble:two-fifty an hour.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because what i'm trying to say is
i'm not a good person.
i don’t tell valerie about how i planned to rekindle
my friendship with charlie’s best friend last year
just so i could get to him and hurt him.
(i don’t tell her how, in the end, i ended up liking
his friend instead, and charlie dated another
fifteen year old
because shit happens and what was i doing,
expecting things to go my way?)
there are certain things she doesn’t need to know,
certain things i can’t say because
putting it into words what it was like waking up,
that sort of shame that came with it –
it was like – it was like looking into a window
and swearing there’s a monster behind it
before, slowly, i realized
it was a mirror.
what therapy promises me: love yourself, forgive but
never forget, tell us your past
then let it go.
what i learn in therapy: nobody has all the answers.
we certainly don’t.
Salsa, Rice, RhythmThere is something splendid aboutSalsa, Rice, Rhythm3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a Peruvian man leaving the rice to burn
because he is unable to keep himself
when a good Salsa song comes on
there is something exquisite and wild about a woman
paying uncontrollable obeisance to the rhythm
thrilling to the beat
waxing and waning to the sound waves
there is something gorgeous about the
the movements, like an untamed clockwork
the way the line between sound and
limb's poetry blurs
fantasia's demise comes with a soft
followed by a drought of wakefulness
surprised to see walls and ceiling
surprised to be alive in
only three dimensions
Overcast.Overcast is beautifulOvercast.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sky, a solid slate of gray
Untouched but imperfect
With rain drizzling down all day
I love to take walks when the weather gets like this
It contains a certain calm that the sun will often miss
But even as I'm walking
Dark thoughts will give me trouble
I pause and look down at my own face
Reflected in the puddle
The contours are correct, that is my face, those are my eyes
But it's the soul behind them I don't recognize
And a tear streaks down my cheek
As a smile parts my lips
Even on a day like this
When there's no reason to hide
I still see
A complete stranger inside.
Sunrise WarningWe die.Sunrise Warning4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
MidasI think aboutMidas3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the Midas goal
a world of gold
from pole to pole
Nothing is new
the world is old
should the gray be
of golden view
no hearts shall beat
nothing is new
is none at all
our means to fall.
I Am AmadeusIt started with a mix CD.I Am Amadeus8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Taped to the back of a stall door in the second floor girl's washroom, it said "Listen to me" in Sharpie on the front, tiny music notes floating around the words. A little note tucked into the pocket added, "If you dislike this playlist, put it back for someone else to find."
Awkwardly enough, I was sitting on the toilet when I first saw it.
But I took it, of course.
I could barely contain my excitement all day, impatient to listen to the mysterious disk. Despite my unbridled enthusiasm, I couldn't quite bring myself to show it to my friends. There was something intimate about my finding it first. Out of all of the people in the school who could have stumbled upon it, I had managed to get to it. It sounds self-obsessed, but it made me feel special. Unique.
Sitting on the bus and shaking with anticipation, I wondered who the person who had left it was. Playlist Girl, I had started calling her in my head. Was she someone I knew? Was she in one of my classes? One
ApostropheToday you asked meApostrophe3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
If I had ever written
A poem about you
Your smile is a simile
And the lines around your eyes
When you laugh are
Reminding me to mind my grammar
Your mind is my metaphor
Spinal column syntax codes
And your hand along my hip
Foreshadowing current events
Newspaper print tattooed on the back of your neck
Never mind rhythmic timing
You've already got that down
Upright posture postponing due dates
Adding an apostrophe to remind me that I'm yours
Each of your freckles marks the end of a sentence
Intense stare from your eyes the color of
Forget me not blue
Like the walls of your bedroom
Vignettes budded from our verisimilitude
And when we planted them in the garden underneath the window
That's when I knew
That it was you who read the strands of my hair
Like stanzas as they slipped through your fingers
And found rhythms rooted at the base of my back
You skimmed my ski
Sherlock- Cookies"What are you doing?"Sherlock- Cookies3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
This had become a common question in 221b Baker Street. Though it had never been used in this context before. Usually it was used when Sherlock was doing some oddity to get into the mindset of a criminal or was hanging upside down in a 'thinking exercise' or was trying to cure the post-case boredom that plagued the man. Once John had used this exclamation upon finding the man dressing himself up in drag. Mostly, the get-out-of-jail-free-card for this phrase was either 'bored' or 'it's for a case!'
Somehow, John couldn't fit either to this particular activity.
The fact that Sherlock was in the kitchen was worrying, at the least. The added fact that he was not making tea was more worrying, still.
The sight of him in an apron, covered in flour, broke straight off the end of Watson's worry scale, leaving him gaping in the doorway with a hilariously befuddled look on his face.
Sherlock's eyes flicked up casually, looking the soldier up and down and making a few odd ded
In the Lowest DeepWith the utmost care, Walter Farborough tiptoed through the pitch blackness of the Alterworld. The ether-rip apparatus on his back emitted an occasional spark or crackle, but his thermal goggles shone only into his eyes: they had a good rubber seal on them, and that was important. The creatures of this place hovered or crawled, blinking an occasional love song to a mate or flashing a warning to an enemy. This was a world utterly different to the real. A world where the sun never shone and strange things had grown in the darkness. Needless to say, the fauna of this place were extremely valuable. One could make a sizeable fortune by trapping them, if one were willing to creep by later and risk claiming one's catch.In the Lowest Deep3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Even with the small heating coil as a marker, it was hard to spot the first snare. Something had trodden it into the mossy silt of the Alterworld floor, but had not become snagged. Walter was glad: feeling around the edge of the print with his hand, he could tell that this cre
BranchesWe were sitting in a treeBranches3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On the first day of spring,
No one was around,
There was only you and me.
I sat on the bottom branch,
Dangling my little feet
So far above the ground.
You wanted to climb higher,
So I stood carefully,
But didn't follow you.
I could tell
From the way you smiled,
That you wanted me
To climb out on a limb,
But I refused.
I can't do that anymore.
I've done that once before,
But branches wore too thin,
And the one I climbed with then
Didn't reach my hand
To catch me when
The little tree-fingers snapped
And I plummeted to
The waiting earth below.
So, I will stay right here,
Holding on to the tree trunk
Where it is safe,
And the ground isn't so far away.
Maybe I'll just jump down,
Where there aren't any branches,
And you don't have to worry
About four-letter words
Lackland"Drop it,"Lackland4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"You drop it,"
"I'm the one with the gun, missy,"
"Yeah, and your jugular's right under my knife," I press a little harder, showing him how much I mean it.
"Do I look infected to you?"
"Never was much for killing kids," He mutters, lowering the shotgun he'd had trained on my chest. He drops it carefully and nudges it towards me with one foot.
"I'm not a kid," I tell himnot whining, just telling. I don't pick up the shotgun, just kick it a little farther away from him. Not as if I've ever known how to handle a gun, anyway. I'm more likely to shoot my foot off before I hit anything.
After a few second's consideration, I take my knife from his throat. I don't think I could kill him, anyway, and he seems much more friendly without his gun. "My name's S"
"Nono names," he cuts across my introduction. "Doesn't matter who you are, does it?"
"Where're you from?" Again, he overrides me, but he does it in an amiable