|1 = 1 fave |
2 = 3 fav + 1 comment
3 = 4 fav + 2 comment
4 = 5 fav + 3 comment
5 = 7 fav + 4 comment
6 = 7 fav + 5 comment
7 = 8 fav + 6 comment
8 = 9 fav + 7 comment + journal feature (20 thumbs)
9 = 9 fav + 8 comment + journal feature (20 thumbs)
10 = 10 fav + 9 comment + journal feature (30 thumbs)
11 = 10 fav + 10 comment + journal feature (30 thumbs)
12 = 12 fav + 12 comment + journal feature (over 30 thumbs)
Note: The points that you send me are cumulative so that you get a feature.
Here I amI still stand here
Waiting for you to find me
By the time you do, time will have faded away
Like the knees of your old worn-out blue jeans
And the paintings of the hillside where I played will have shifted its colors.
The playgrounds are gone
Swing sets are no more,
Creaking with rust of the dried out rain
Now that I see it, I know that it will never be the same
But the knowledge that it used be
Shared with people who used to be friends (now, no more)
Is still enough to make me smile.
Cannoli (The Hetalia Version of 'Cupcakes') The air was warm, the sun was shining and Germany, Japan and Italy were having a wonderful time.
“This food is very good, Italia-kun. I thank you.”
Italy grinned splendidly towards his friend.
“Oh, Japan! It’s okay; you don’t have to thank me.”
“It is very good…” commented a certain blonde-haired nation awkwardly.
Upon hearing these words, Italy jumped the bigger nation and wrapped him in a tight squeeze.
Germany let out a yell of surprise before calming down and leaning into the embrace, uncomfortably and wondered since when Italy had become so strong.
Managing to pry the smaller country off of him, he continued to eat, only to shift nervously. He looked up to find Italy’s honey-brown irises staring at him.
“Are…you feeling alright?”
Italy had answered the questions cal
America's MotherI always loved my son,
Even if he wasn't truly my own.
He was so young...and I had always known...
...That the coming of him would be the death of me.
Even if he was too young too see
How much it had hurt me...
...I still helped guide him through this world that is so full of it.
Even if I am somewhat lost among his people
Even if he doesn't always acknowledge me;
He is so close...so close to falling from the edge of the rim...
I am still here.
I am still trying...
to find my way back through to him,
before he falls.
You did This to me (Italy's Poem)You made me feel unworthy.
You made me feel as if I were no good.
You made me feel so very weak...
like a country like me should.
You made me feel useless, but still,
I followed you around.
All I wanted was to be friends, but still,
you smashed my heart into the ground.
Now my eyes are beginning to open...
a sick part of me is beginning to show.
And now...everyone's bleeding red into the snow...
Is this what you wanted?
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?!?
Russia's Poem (Hetalia)I watch bloody battlefields
laughing in triumph
as enemies lay dying
before my very eyes.
I stand there and smile as I listen
to my old friends
beg for mercy.
Music to my ears,
knives to their throats,
I let it slip forward ever so slowly,
making sure they feel the same pain they have bestowed upon me.
I fall asleep to the lullaby
of cries and screams in agony,
feeling ever so sad when it stops...
and they finally drown...
in their own gurgling blood.
I give applause to those
who raise blades to their own wrists,
place bullets in their heads,
because they fear to face me another day.
I kill because I am angry
and when I'm angry I kill.
So...in killing them,
they cannot make me angry
So that I may kill no more.
And although I thank you for helping me forget
these horrible memories I am being plagued with,
I'm afraid I'll only
So this time...
Please try to help me remember.
~Thank you, [reader's name]...I know that if I s