Peep"Can I come in Hinata?"Peep3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Naruto Uzumaki, 22-year-old blond ninja with an almost romantic attachment to ramen, leaned against the door, knocking softly again and again.
"No Naruto-kun, not ready yet!"
Hinata Hyuga, 22-year-old blue-haired ninja heiress with a soft-spoken voice and heart even softer still, called out from behind the door. Years of dating and a proposal had rendered her stutter non-existence. The blush still visited when provoked.
"But Hinata," Naruto whined. "It's our anniversary, can't I sneak a little peep?"
"No, I want everything to be perfect."
Never one for surprises, Naruto called on a technique he learned from one of his father's scrolls (which had been passed onto him once the war concluded). Naruto had long ago pleaded with Hinata to wear a necklace that had the Hiraishin seal engraved on it, so he could come to her aide when she needed it.
It was widely becoming known in the ninja community that Naruto was very protective of Hinata, stemming from her near death
Rin Matusoka x Reader - Bad DayRin Matusoka x Reader - Bad Day1 year ago in Romance More Like This
You were really pissed. Not only a little; no, really really really pissed. The whole day was just a big disaster. You almost seethed with rage. Okay, maybe it was just because you were on your period but everything just bothered you at the moment. And you did not hesitated to hide your attitude on that day.
Hearing the bell which indicated that this day would end soon you headed home without even saying goodbye to your friend. But to your bitter disappointment it was not only terribly hot outside but your bus that drove home was just full to overflowing. After an almost too long discussion in your head if you should wait an hour for the next bus or get in this overcrowded hell on four wheels, you decided to take this one anyway. This clearly appeared to be a huge mistake. Once you blazed your trail inside your whole body was pressed against the door (which is why you always had to get outside at every stop and get in again) by two colossuses of men who seemed like they just came back
It's in the little thingsHe won't give you rosesIt's in the little things1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
they will die—
Instead, he'll plant them
for you because he knows
you'll be around when
six steps to fixing youstep onesix steps to fixing you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
cry. scream. bang your fists against the walls
that keep you locked inside.
kick your feet in the air. tell your sister she's stupid
and wrong and that you've never loved her.
cry. scream. apologize via him to you.
let your tears catch on your lashes
until you can no longer see anything but your own
demise. taste the bitterness left in
your mouth from your own bitching and rot in it.
break a mug. break two. kick
the pieces around the kitchen floor and cry some more.
break a plate. break a cup. break a bowl.
break a finger because nothing can take away this
sort of pain. you are empty and yet
you are filled with so much anger.
break a razor and paint pictures across your skin.
you are okay, you tell them.
you break three days later and you lie
in bed, unable to move.
start picking up the pieces. clean up the mess
you've made and he's left.
use windex to polish off the dirt and
Fatefate is the slutFate2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we take out for
dinner in the Las
Vegas of life.
She fucks us and
then leaves us in
a dusty hotel
room, with only our
empty pockets and
the sun bleaching
our eyes dry
bedtime stories don't quite go this wayonce upon a time--bedtime stories don't quite go this way2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
no wait, that's wrong.
let's not start our story that way.
you find yourself in your bathtub,
the water scalding
and risen as high as the rim itself.
you find yourself submerged
and screaming out for somebody to help
you are being drowned.
monsters as black as the sky
are tearing at your ankles,
cackling and pulling you down and out of sight
and water splashes out of the
tub and you are seeing nothing
but old memories that stick to your throat
when you can do nothing but cry.
you find yourself in your shower,
curled up in a corner furthest
from the water because
you are afraid that cold water will wash
away your sins.
you are afraid that if that water touches
you in the slightest bit, you
will melt like the wicked witch, and
you haven't felt enough suffering to die
in such an easy way.
melting is far less painful than the ways
that cross your mind when
water falls over your eyes and stings and
you can do nothing but make
summer the cruel maidensummer is a cruel maiden.summer the cruel maiden10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i say this because summer
is when i want to go outside wearing shorts
but 4'10”, 145 – it's 148, i lie and knock 3 off
not that it makes a difference,
or actually i can't do math
or i can't remember
i went jogging in jeans once
down college avenue
by the train tracks in summer.
(i told a special ed teacher in fall
and he asked but how?
and i said
i forgot to take off my jeans
and put on shorts)
because i did because i'm
bad at executive functioning
i also didn't want to show
my thighs –
and i meant to write about
how i love summer and that
summer is a cruel maiden because
i am addicted to the heat that i curse and the way
the dying grass crunches when i run
and how i forget to not walk on the deck with
shoes and my feet burn –
shiverthe first time sadness shook me to sleep,shiver8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i was 16 years old. it happened in a blur
and i remember it through the lens of
discomfort and very many tears. since then,
the shaking has just been a part of me.
i went through a phase of questioning
and ornate sadness, the kind that people
make movies about. my sadness brimmed
anxiety and distress over things that don't exist.
the potential for negativity cultivated my sadness
in a way that my 16 year old self simply could not
handle. now, my 17 year old self is not much smarter,
but well-versed in the art of shaking.
i call it art because its patterns are intricate
and very specific, triggered violently and onset shockingly.
i don't like this sadness that tends to overtake
me too often now. if often is a measure of comparison,
then so is the sadness, then so is my life.
adjectives are comparisons and i draw them instinctually,
like a sad girl. a sad, sad girl whose sadness shakes her
back down even when she wants to be happy.
Liquid loveShe tried treatingLiquid love4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
shots of Nyquil,
would become dreams
and she'd drowsily awaken
with a couple shots
of fireball whiskey,
burn in her throat
the burn in
and she's choking on
does she really
a bottle of
will fix her?
human scalesyou've never known me to be me you know me like you think you know the back of your handhuman scales10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
concrete bones and you can still break me like you broke your mother's heart when
you got addicted to cutting like it was your lifeblood and your blood doesn't even run anymore it's black
you can paint your nails black like you've sinned but you can't force them to comprehend why
they don't care about the phases you've slept through and the pins 'n needle bed of thread you've made your cocoon
it ain't a chrysalis it's a shell you haven't broken out of
your hair is straw you tried to weave into gold
gold and black stripes on your face like you're a tiger but you can't fucking roar
the motor of your car sounds louder every time you speed like you're gonna hit the bridge and go over
go over go over go over
but don't go over because girls like to die pretty
you won't tell me i'm pretty even on the day i die
you surround yourself with nails and chalkboards and old letters about h
metayour skin is a myriad of thin linesmeta11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
blood pooling from underneath the layers of cells
they are like a road map with no destination no end and no beginning
you are a road map
no end and no beginning you are infinite you are
alpha and omega because without you there is none
there is none
when you look into the mirror it is as if it is not
reflecting but projecting your own image unto yourself
cracks run deep through the glass slivers missing
it reminds you of your body
but it is still and you are not because you keep moving along
with whatever noise is inside your head
bloodied with hands or from hands or from whomever that mirror
is just a billboard of butterflies
light filtering through the cracks like the wet beating wings
of the metamorphosed insect
I'm Fine Thank You and Thank You
your voice a dissonance from the end to the beginning
but you will learn not touch glass shards
this, this, and that. | kisumi shiginothis, this, and that. | kisumi shigino10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Didn't I tell you to be more careful? Honestly, you're too reckless.." You muttered, wrapping the bandage around his wrist as Kisumi kept quiet; watching your moves with a soft, gentle, smile etched on his lips. Kisumi had (stupidly) yet again injured himself playing basketball despite the fact that you told him to be more careful countless of times. But of course, knowing that it was Kisumi, he would never listen. You sighed and clipped the bandages together. "There. All good."
"You should be my nurse," He points out, checking if the bandages were secured enough. "You always take care of me."
"Well, if you aren't going to take care of yourself, then who is?" You snorted, placing the first aid kit back on the table and leaving it there. It was a good thing that his injury wasn't anything severe, you noted to yourself. That would have been very troublesome for not only him, but to you as well. It always worried you when he hurt himself. Kisumi just doesn't know how to take things safel
5'10'' and 138My hair is pale from chlorine5'10'' and 13810 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and I never have enough time to shave
(it's better long for the plays, anyways).
I can grab at what used to be a buzz but is now shaggy.
My face is covered in freckles
and I know I wasn't born with them
but I never wear sunscreen and I probably
Acne adorns my face but will eventually dry out
(don't you just love cholorine?)
except for where my glasses sit.
My eyebrows don't even exist behind the chunky frames
and my too long bangs.
My nose is too big
and there's a heart shaped freckle
right on the bridge.
My mouth is small
and my lips are plump.
I'm told my eyes are too narrow.
Sometimes masculine, sometimes feminine.
My neck is average
not long compared to my face
not thick compared to my jaw.
I wonder if I don't have an Adam's apple
because I don't swallow pills dry
My shoulders are bright red from ice
after practice and physical therapy and
and I contemplate why they still look so small
after so many s
Forbidden love (Lucius MalfoyXReader) part 1You were having a nice dream until you were pulled from it by someone jumping on you.Forbidden love (Lucius MalfoyXReader) part 11 year ago in Humor More Like This
"(Y/N) GET UP WERE GOING TO HOGWARTS TODAY!!!" Your twin brother James screamed ripping the covers off you before running back to his room across the hall to change. Hearing his words you instantly wake up and run into the bathroom to get showered and dressed.
"HURRY UP (Y/N)!!" James yelled as you packed the last of your clothes in your trunk.
"COMING!" You yelled back before dragging your trunk downstairs along with your pet hawk (yes you have a motherfucking hawk deal with it).
"Whoops sorry Tony" You giggled when you almost dropped the cage.
"Everything packed?" Your mother asked.
"Yes mum" You and James replied in union.
"Jinx" You both said again.
"Ok I give up!" You both said before laughing. Your mother rolled her eyes at you both before dishing out breakfast. Eager to get to the platform you and James quickly ate your breakfast before running to your trunks. When yo
Insane!Canada x Ignored!Reader : WishesInsane!Canada x Ignored!Reader : Wishes2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
WARNING: May be a trigger.
Everyday was awful.
How does it feel when you’re ignored?
Or worst of all, when your very existence is so ignored, that it feels as though you were never there.
Just a ghost.
You’d tried everything.
It was when you would hesitantly approach a group of people chattering away, and you would give a radiant smile, raising a hand in greeting.
Their conversation would just continue on.
Or when your teachers would take attendance.
“(F/N) (L/N)?” They’d call out, searching through the room.
You would always raise your hand and smile, replying, “Here.”
But their eyes would just skim over you.
“Not here again?” The teacher would frown, shaking their head in disappointment.
“Poor thing, missed so many days at school.”
Even your own parents forgot your existence.
“Why do we have an extra chair?” Your mother would scrutinize the chair you sat in,
14. Kung Fu Panda 3 - Age of Innocence.14. Kung Fu Panda 3 - Age of Innocence.3 years ago in Drama More Like This
TITLE: Kung Fu Panda 3 - Chapter 14: Age of Innocence.
Contains scenes of disturbing nature. Violence and gore, people dying / suffering.
May be unsuitable for young readers, but I'll try and make it not so.
The Jade Palace's Barracks - Morning.
When I (Tigress) awoke the next morning, I couldn't help but feel really excited about adopting Liu. When I slowly woke up, I gazed into my room as I stayed in bed, hoping to sneak a few more minutes before presenting ourselves to my dad, Master Shifu. There was more than enough room for another bed, and hopefully just about enough for a chest of drawers or wardrobe for her clothes or for both to share one.
There was no gong! There was no dad, there were the Furious Five standing by the doors waiting to present themselves to Master Shifu... But nothing happened!
For a few seconds the Five stood inside, not before opening them to peak outside. Each one of us were peeping, including Po who was staying with us for four days
(m/m) The Boy in the Tank(m/m) The Boy in the Tank2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Will Gibson smiled, pleasantly, at the security clerk as he handed over his ID card. The man behind the desk returned his smile, glancing at the familiar plastic card in an absent way before running it through the computer's scanner. It only took a couple of seconds for the computer to log the time and date and authorize Will's arrival. The security clerk removed the ID card but paused, briefly, before handing it back to him.
'It's going to be out of date soon,' he told Will, 'we update them every year so we'll be retaking photos next month.' His eyes flickered between the small grainy photograph and the tall, dark man in front of him, taking-in the change in hair length and the other minimal differences.
'It's a pity,' he said, 'it's not a bad picture of you, is it?' Will shrugged, indifferently, reaching out to retrieve the card and straightening his collar.
'I usually photograph well,' he commented, 'I'm lucky in that respect.' He replaced the card in his leather shoulder bag and pr
Secret SantaIf I was going to buy you a Christmas giftSecret Santa8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
it would be a pair of mismatched socks.
One argyle, one with rainbow stripes
and I would wear the matching set.
We would stomp through the snow
with the help of some boots,
our socks pulled up to our knees
and sing holiday tunes seriously off-key.
If I was going to make you a gift
I’d bake- something savory made with thyme
or maybe write you a poem
with a sprinkle of rhyme.
We would skip the baked goods
and eat pizza together- a large with extra cheese.
Perhaps I’d ask you for three words
then give three of my own-
building a six-word-story for us to share.
If I had nothing to give
I’d offer you my humble words.
A sonnet, a joke, another silly song
and hope it makes you smile.
A midnight confessionWhen sadnessA midnight confession4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I only wished
to put a stamp
and send it away
(the result always
return to sender)
Insanity needs companyand now I’m stuck here,Insanity needs company5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
how the walls became
a veiny sight-
(could the cause be me calling out
in the middle of the night?)
and alone I stand here,
how my feet got
nailed upon this floor-
(do you hold my ankles
like an anchor
does the shore?)
and I know it’s been thirteen years
since you were here at all,
according to the hash marks
the wooden wall
but I can’t
of our memories,
so for now,
I’ll let the doc declare:
Insanity needs company.
Pluto Isn't a PlanetI can barely breathePluto Isn't a Planet1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and that's what's keeping me
My parents said I was a child
(Too young to understand)
And the teachers shook their heads at me.
Society told me that I was insane
and the stares in the halls told me
it wasn't right
to keep living this way
How could the burden of those galaxies
be the reason I'm alive?
"You are on the wrong track," they said,
"You need to follow planets orbiting the sun
and Pluto isn't
There is no point
if the textbook isn't open,
but I cannot lie to my
I feel most alive when my small hands
are trying to carry the entire solar system
and I break through the most
galaxies and constellations
by following the north star
and not the mathematical calculations
I copied down in my
origami death wisha piece of paper, no matter how big or how small,origami death wish2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
can only be folded eight times over
before it springs back out
and unfolds itself.
i could fold into myself a trillion times over
just so i would fit in the space between the two fingers
that you hold your cigarette with.
Secret."Do you want to know the secret to life?"Secret.1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
he taps his finger on his cigarette to drop the ash. He looks into your eyes as thick smoke escapes his parted mouth.
you glance down at the table. His stare is piercing.
"Embrace the possibility that you're not even here, that this is all a dream."
You keep your eye on him as he leans in closer…
"Now release the presumption that it is your dream."
He gets up and walks away. You stay seated watching the smoke rise from the still lit cigarette in the ashtray.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez