#what is proofreading?

[wewriters1]

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[wewriters1]

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We provide Copywriting Services like rewriting, proofreading, editing and rephrasing the articles with the relevant required information.

[boywlthluv]

ALSO naruhina + 43 =͟͟͞͞ ( ꒪౪꒪)ฅ✧

Over the last few months, Hinata's presence has become something usual in his apartment. Sometimes she comes over with baked goodies or a new horror movie to watch, and always wearing a smile that feels like sunshine. Over this period of time, Naruto has learned various facts about her, tiny things he would have otherwise ignored, like how she loves sugary treats and prefers her popcorn unsalted, the way she bites the inside of her cheek when she concentrates enough and how happy endings always seem to make her cry. He also discovered that she has never been more beautiful than when she's in love.

When she's around him, her smile changes and the joy in it seems to reach her eyes, making the violet irises glimmer in a way he finds equally fascinating and beautiful. She's all flushed cheeks and curious fingers tracing along her lover's skin, in an unique way that's both innocent and seductive. But the thing is that, no matter how much he loves her, none of that will ever be for him.  

Sasuke's fingers intertwine loosely with hers while they both pretend to watch an awful movie. He kisses her temple while her eyes are shut to try and avoid a scary scene, and she laughs quietly. It's tiny gestures like this that make Naruto certain he loves her just as much. He smiles and tries getting to his room unnoticed, but he's way too clumsy to get the task done

"You're early, idiot"

They both turn to look at him, and she smiles

"Yeah, my last class was cancelled"

"You can join us, if you want"

She suggests, and Sasuke doesn't disagree. He never has. 

 "Yeah, I'll just take a shower first"

"We'll be waiting!"

"As if," Sasuke scoffs "Come out of that room and I'll murder you"

She hits him in the shoulder jokingly and turns to Naruto

"Then, I'll be waiting" 

He strolls through the dark living room, overcome by a feeling of emptiness that he doesn't really know how to fill. He'll never be with her, no matter what happens, because even after Sasuke isn't the one that makes her heart skip and her eyes shine, he'll still be his best friend, and he could be capable of doing so many awful things, but not that, at least not to him.

Before shutting the door to his room behind him, he notices a fresh bowl of his favorite buttered popcorn right next to hers, and it somehow feels like a dare to accept a challenge he's already lost. Even if she did wait, even if she chose him, it wouldn't make a difference. He looks away and shuts the door behind him. He doesn't come out again.

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I'LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

[frostberry-blog-blog]

How can blood be so red? It's dripping from his fingers in long, wet rivulets. Sticky. Why is it so sticky? He's seen blood before but this time feels different, new, horrible. This blood is so red, pooling and moist, filling his view till scarlet is all he can see. He's used to the dark, sluggish ooze that comes from the zombies that prowl the streets. And he's seen the blood of people he used to know, the iron stain drying to flakes on the sandy sidewalks of the city. He wishes this blood was dark, wishes it was dry, but it's so hot and it's so fresh.

  For two weeks she has been acting...different. Curiosity lurks deep in his eyes until he has watched her so much he can tell her moods from her hair alone: how well she slept, how nervous she is, a whole host of little things. There is little to pick up on, but he thinks it's strange, how often she's speaking about other people. Ace can count on two hands the number of people he knows in this city (still alive, please let them still be alive) but she's suddenly talking as if she knows all the survivors, every one. Betty-Sue did this, Sally-Beth did that. According to 'News Dude' Mary-What's-Her-Name killed four zombies two days ago. Soon Ace is consumed with the questions of where she's seeing all these people, how she is getting all this info. And why? They agreed two is best. Two is not too many mouths to feed, two is not too big a target. Surely she isn't recruiting.

  "I'm going out!" she informs him, cheerful and light with her voice. Too cheerful. This life is too hard for the grin that grows on her lips and the way her eyes glitter like a clear, jeweled night. There are no more twinkling stars here, only dark smoke and the murky hint of a moon behind them. Ace grunts an affirmative, focusing his gaze on the video game and punching the buttons under his fingers, determined to make things look real. They're both distracted, so absorbed in their own thoughts they don't notice they're both failing at their deceptions. He doesn't dare look up until the sound of the door is in his ears and then he's at the window, staring down into the streets and watching, waiting, the good natured stalker hoping to dog her steps but only if he can stay back far enough.

  Once her long shadow disappears he's out the door too, loud and cumbersome as he dashes down the stairs since there are no more neighbors to raise complaints. For a moment his heart stops when he doesn't see her on the street she disappeared down, but it sinks back into place with a painful thud when he hears her trip and curse. He moves forward, always in the shadows, nervous as she chats with those out stealing supplies from the newly dead, old friends they all are it seems. A word here or there is all he can pick up, their voices kept low when they can so the others can't hear them.

  "Sirus" one girl says, and Ace's ears go on high alert. In the beginning no one had taken notice of the old man, afraid to risk their necks for someone so feeble. But Sirus had not only proved the city wrong, he'd become almost as bad as the zombies, trigger happy for human and undead alike, no judgment. Any news involving Sirus was bad news, so why did he swear he heard Dude ask where to find him? No, she's definitely asking about his location, his feet are taking him close enough to hear the conversation without his permission and risking his stealth, but he can't resist. He must know.

  She takes off again and Ace barely dodges her path, so close he's sure she caught him following her. Turns out home is her next destination according to another survivor she chats with, returning empty handed to an empty residence and how will he explain his absence? Luckily the apartment was his before the war and he knows all the short cuts to arrive home before her, leaning against the door and holding one side as it stitches into a painful cramp. 5 minutes go by and there's no return. 10 minutes go by and there's no one on the stairs. 20 minutes go by and the room is silent save the anxious beat of his heart. 30 minutes go by and Ace knows. She hasn't come home because she lied, Dude would never tell anyone she is actually going to visit Sirus. It's a suicide move and no one in the city would let her go quietly.

  No, no, no, no, no. The word throbs over and over in his mind until he's yelling them out loud with every stair he takes. How long did she chat with the other survivor? How long has she been at Sirus'? How long did he have until it was too late? How long? How long? How long?

  The blood is so red. She cries out when he puts his hands over the bullet wound but he has to stop the blood flow. There's so much. It's so red. "Stupid. You're so stupid, Dude," he growls, pushing and holding and willing it all to go away.

  "It's Amelia." Her speech is slurring with pain. "My name is Amelia." They promised not to share names, to stick to the code, to keep that emotional barrier between them. But she refuses to lay there dying with nothing but her username to be remembered by. He can see she's hoping for his name too, but he doesn't believe (refuses to believe) that she is dying under his hands.

  "What were you thinking anyway? To come here of all places. You're so stupid." He knows his hands are shaking, she winces under the tremors and Ace hates himself for causing her pain. But the pain is good, it's real, it's keeping her here with him and he refuses to make it a comfortable problem. There's more than one person's blood on the ground but that's ok too because Sirus doesn't feel pain anymore. The laugher that had crinkled the skin about his eyes when he shot the pleading girl in the gut won't come again, Ace has made sure of that.

  "Milk." Amelia's words are a whisper, her strength leaking out red, so red. "They said he could get me milk."