[x]

UselessI'm a cutter
That's all I'll ever be
Once you've learnt that
Defining fact about me.

You'll call me mad
Assume that I'm sad
And that I want
Your help.

You'll check my arms
Only matters if you can see
But I can hide them
All over me.

You'll think I'm sick
Sick in the head
And that makes me feel
Like I want to be dead.

I don't do it
For attention
I don't do it
For a mention
I don't do it
To rebel.
I do it because of
The spell
That it's cast over me.

Sense: Various and ReaderSense:Rome,N&S Italy, France, Spain, and Reader:

Real quick; This is about the five senses, it's really just a bunch of little fan fictions combined into one so I don't clog your message box.

Sight: Rome and Reader:

The moment the door opened you knew you were in the sights of someone of significance. His eyes were deep and shinning like caramel and made you shiver as they examined you, while a calloused hand tousled the dark chocolate curls that twisted and framed his strong jaw.

At the same time, you began to feel very self-conscious and tempted to rush to your closet and dig through for long fleece pants and a comfy robe instead of the

SwitzerlandXReader- Jealous?

Jealous?

SwitzerlandXReader

.
.
.

"…Vash!" you cried as you ran as fast as you could in your school leather shoes, no matter your skirt was flapping about because of the wind, towards an astute, healthy, economically smart young man with Handsome short blonde hair up to his shoulders and emeralds eyes who was currently reading a book under a tree.

Vash Zwingli.

"Ah, ___." He said, his emerald eyes looking up from his book towards your direction once he heard you call him, he then stiffly shifted a little to the side so you could sit down. He quickly checked his pocket and sighed in relief.

What? It could have been a thief!

You smiled

Evening childWe’d sit on porch steps
Insecticide burning our lungs
Awkward and gangly attempting to grow into our limbs
You with freckles dusting your nose and I with a small dot on my cheek
You called it a beauty spot and I said god was too lazy to give me freckles

We were 15 and lust driven amnesiacs
Dissolving our flesh with cheap gin in your tree house
Throwing pebbles at the sky hoping to shatter it
We were an epidemic of the underdog prognosis
Playing encores to an audience of cowards

For some reason we’d always rush across rail way tracks
Metal bars quivering and our broken sneakers stumbling
We were branded in mistakes and embellis

The Nature of LungsThere's that
feeling
you get
when you
keep
breathing in and
are
so concerned with getting
air into
your lungs,
to fill them up
so fully
that
you'll never
need
to inhale again,
that you forget
about
breathing

out.

But when you do,
the emptiness feels
so
much better than all
the oxygen in the world
pressing out on that one
overcrowded lung.

Don't be jealous(FranceXReaderXChild England)“(y/n)! (y/n)!”

O god...

“Look!”

It had arrived....

“Heheheheh!”

Francis’ worst possible nightmare.

The British kid sitting on your lap was grinning widely at you as he bounced up and down. Why now? Why today, it being the day he’d wanted to be with you all alone and who knew, maybe get a little more intimate than usual?

Francis slumped on the coffee table, his blond hair splayed around his head like a halo. He pouted, his temple resting against the cover of a few glossy magazines, though his breath was making his cheek stick onto them.

“And they even had unicorns!” The blond

Mad libs (BTTXReader)“Just calm down okay?!” You cried, growling at the three boys sprawled on your floor. “No way!”

“We have to decide who sleeps where right?” Antonio nodded vigorously. “Yeah! I mean someone gets the spare bed and the others have to sleep on the sofa!”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You should’ve known inviting the notorious trio of boys might not have been your brightest idea. And you’d even asked them for a sleepover.

If I’m ever able to go back in time, I’ll kick my own arse! You swore to yourself as you settled yourself down on the couch. “Let&rs

Heart:a rebellion
tucked away
in her chest.

they say
she's got skin
unworthy to write
poetry on,
but
she tapes those
lovelies
to her limbs
anyway.

He Was...He was unassumingly striking.
And he always made me feel magnificent.

He was beautifully broken.
And he always managed to make me smile.

He was wretchedly angry
And I never ever saw him in a temper.

He was sarcastically humourous.
And he never tried to outwit me.

He was always unhappy.
And he was forever happy when I was around.

He was my Anakin Skywalker.
And he didn't turn to the dark side for me, or for anyone else.

But for himself.

My Father's LoveFor the hair's breath of a second today, I felt what my father feels about his daughter. For that tiny moment, I saw the fear, the constant worry, the anger at his angel getting hurt, and the fury at the person who had dared to harm her; the crescendo of Mozart's most famous opera. I understood what it meant to stay up all night worrying for her, for her safety, for who she was with, who she wasn't with, where she went and where she did not go; a tragic song that never ever quite comes to a conclusion. I figured out how it hurt, almost like cruel fingers on the fret board of an exquisitely delicate guitar, when she would ignore him, or hurt h

This is Me, BeggingIf I could play guitar
I’d write you a song.
If I could run that far
Then I’d run all night long.
But I’m no good at that
So you’ll have to settle for this.

What is this?

It's a plea
A beg
For you
From me
Please come home
I'm all alone
And nobody understands.

I don't want you to R.I.P.
I want you here with me
But I'm not God
And He hates me
So, for now,
I guess it's R.I.P.

Kiss of Fate: Romania and ReadKiss of Fate: Romania and Reader:

You crept down the hall, listening for the crinkling of wrappers and the sound of candy being hungrily devoured. Your husband Vladimir had snuck off with the bag of Halloween candy and trick-or-treating would start soon.

“Vladimir?” you asked.

Then you heard the crumple of paper, quick shuffle of weight, and a foot accidently hitting against the door. It had come from the hall closet.

You leaned against the closet door. You couldn’t hear anything, but a gut feeling made you reach for the door knob.

The door swung open and on the floor surrounded by candy wrappers and making candy cor

Strange things on your face (Alien ReaderXEngland)A loud, resounding crash was heard in the fields, though no one was there to hear save for a young couple trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the town. Shaking nervously, the man stepped forward, inching slowly past the side of the crater to see what had happened.

A softly smouldering object in the middle of the crater creaked and he yelped, jumping back to his cowering girlfriend. With a couple of frightened mutters, he called the police; he didn’t know who else to call in a situation like that after all. The cops quickly turned up, called the fire brigade and supervised the extraction of the unidentified burning object.

Well,

Warmth and Worries: Russia and ReaderWarmth and Worries: Russia and Reader:

You don’t expect much out of a tiny apartment. It fills up fast with boxes and newlywed’s suitcases packed to the point of bursting also take up too much room, but in the end it’s worth it. You have a little sanctuary for just the two of you. Someplace where you could escape from some of the worries from work and he could escape the cold.

You had nothing to worry about when you were with him, and he was never cold. That’s how it had worked out when you were dating. Most movie nights you would fall asleep snuggled against him with a pounding headache that he tried his best to

Appreciation pt.2 (Male BelarusXReader)You walked down the street, your brows furrowed. It had been happening for a while now, that strange feeling of being watched. You couldn’t place it, though after your little speech you should’ve been expecting it.

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you turned on your heel and made way to a group of bushes which were next to the pavement. “.... Nikolai, get out of there.” Said male burrowed his way out from under the shrubbery.

Standing in front of you with a blasé look on his face, he raised his eyebrow at you. After a moment of enduring your intent stare, he caved. “What?”

Resting your hand on you

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We once were soldiersby =Shadowsoflosthope

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Urban & Spoken Word

The awesome cover image was done by ~StevenWorthey .I Just thought of the Vietman War, the most pointless waste of human lives in America's history. And i wanted to emulate what i would feel if i were them. First one after a month of working on my finals so i hope everyone enjoys. (Had trouble finding a cover image that fits). Also entered into ~LightOverpowers58 Building a Better World Entries Contest.

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~elahedaryani Mar 19, 2013 New member

niceeee

~catherinejao Dec 29, 2012 Professional Traditional Artist

wow... I don't have a lot of knowledge with the life of a soldier, but this seems very real and unvarnished. Congratulations on a very honest piece. Really fitting cover art too!

=Shadowsoflosthope Dec 29, 2012

Thank you, i'm glad you like it

~Erbear159 Dec 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Hooah from 101st Air Assault, active duty.

~pje0860 Dec 27, 2012 Hobbyist Artist

[link]

=Shadowsoflosthope Dec 27, 2012

omg i love that game. i have it and beat without killing a single person

~pje0860 Dec 27, 2012 Hobbyist Artist

well check my new journal to know more truth ^_^ (that game truly is about truth even mentioned god) in assassin's game ending it said "heed these words (word of god) "or perish as a heretic" that's what it said on assassin's creed 3 game ^_^ here's another truth from game [link]

~zeraful Dec 24, 2012 Hobbyist

Alright, to make up for the flame comment, I shall write a proper one:

I think that the shock from the Viet Nam War to be so great, because it was received by the whole American culture, not just the people who served there. For example: Before the war, American citizen have little way to know about war beside daily radio and.... I don't know, the projector thing that they used in theater. But come the war, and with it, colored television. Never before had they see destruction so real, so breathtaking, so massive and knowing that is was their doing. For the straightforward, good guys-bad guys they're living in, how're they suppose to take that if it was the child they raised that burn down an entire village?, the weapon they manufacture mowing down countless living being?, and the image of the country that they so pervently uphold crumbling down around the world?.

Btw, it "Vietnam", not "Vietman". Sorry for being a grammar nazi.

~Karnak44 Dec 23, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Beautiful, just so beautiful! It is very amazing how such simplistic images can carry a large meaning. Also, this picture shows how many of the soldiers felt when they came home. Trauma.

~Tango-Wolf Dec 23, 2012 Student Digital Artist

My grandfather was in the Vietnam war for a little less then 2 years. He's still alive, though x3

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