Hetalia Eng.XReader scotch can help chpt. 1Hetalia EnglandxReader Maybe the Scotch does help chpt. 1Hetalia Eng.XReader scotch can help chpt. 113 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes
"Arthur, did you hear what I just said?!" Hearing (names) voice snapped you right back into reality from you daze. "N-No love, I guess I sort of dozed off there," you admitted. "I said, do you want to go grab some drinks at the pub as friends?" she asked. "(Name) wants to go grab drinks, with me?! Even if it's just as friends or not, you love spending time with that lovely (h/c). "Sure, what time are we heading out?" "In about an hour," she said and walked off. You're guessing that she went to go get ready. You might as well too. You put on a light green button down long sleeve, a pair of black pants, your normal black shoes, and a black tie. You tried getting your hair to cooperate, but it stubbornly does its own thing. "Well, that's as good as you're ever going to look," you sigh. "Dude, where are you going," you hear as soon as you walk out the door. It was Alfred, you're lucky day. "Nowh
A Love of LifeI have a love of life. It's just a simple love, I'm not an extremist in either which way, but I believe in having a general love of all living things... respect for the world I live in. It's the little things in life that make me smile and give purpose to an otherwise meaningless adventure to a fate we all share. And while admiring these little things I've noticed that many people are too quick to judge things they don't know too much about.A Love of Life15 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes
I don't walk on flowers. Don't get me wrong, I am not a floral enthusiast, but, I can take two steps of course to avoid trampling a beautiful little flower... a simple little flower that may bring a smile to someone's face who does adore flowers more than I do
I don't kill bugs. I am terrified of bugs, mainly spiders, but any bug near or on me is enough to cause me a slight panic attack. However, my fear does not justify taking their lives... they may need to relocate from my wall though!
I don't judge people for the way they choose to live their l
Nightly crisis ~*338 words*~Late at night, when the world is dark and the house is silent, I lay awake and staring at my ceiling. I'll close my eyes and try to sleep but in the darkness of the night the darkness of my mind stirs; in the dark the voices start, softly at first but then they grow to an unending roar of questions, question I cannot hope to answer while on the brink of sleep but try as I might the questions keep coming, keep flooding my mind that was once peaceful and welcoming of sleep. Finally the questions reach their peak, the noise of my own mind keeping me awake for hours so that by the time the final question comes I haven't a prayer for sleep.Nightly crisis ~*338 words*~23 hours ago in Stories & Vignettes
Who are you?
The words replay in my mind till I force out an answer in the hope that the voices will stop and that sleep will come at last. Mae
Why are you here?
My plan has failed as I knew it would, the voices never truly stop they just fade a little more; so I answer the unseen speaker hidden with in my stormy mind To create
ForgivenessIt was a rainy day. Clouds were covering the skies, and on his way to the nursing house, Raymond felt... something. The gloomy ambiance was really getting at him. It was... as if he knew that it was the end. One could say that it was just one of those feelings. "Heh, it's ironic, old man...", whispered Raymond at the sight of the nursing home. Dark clouds were circling the building, as if an evil had struck the world. "Spooky.", thought Raymond. Meeting his father, perhaps for the last time... that thought made him quite distressed, in his mind. The man who brought him to life, and later on, to his knees.Forgiveness2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
Domestic abuse, violence, ridicule, insults... That was Raymond's childhood. What shaped his being, and formed his personality, he grew up to be a cynical young man, but still well-mannered. A law abiding-citizen by all meaning of the term, Raymond was just another kid who went through domestic violence, in the end. The people he consulted, though, never truly gave his issues much imp
Dreams:: Death and TrainsAnother dream that seems to be a message from my subconscious.Dreams:: Death and Trains2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
I was standing in a train station, among my classmates. I was standing next to Mårten and Eden, ready to board a train to get back to our school from some event we had went to. This is weird, since I had never gone to an event like this in real life with this class, only previous classes when I was much younger. Now, I barely get out in train stations, even with familiar faces so close to me.
I remember being cramped in, as always when I'm dreaming my class is around me. We boarded a train, but I only remember getting off the train, and not the actual ride. I know in dreams it's much harder to think things are weird, but this time I felt it, because I entered the train with all of my class, but I exited with only Eden and Leo. Leo and Eden looked the same, they wore their usual outside attire, but what was weird was our sizes. Leo was freakishly tall, while I and Eden were much shorter than him, Eden being a bit shorte
The extended Poughkeepsie Manor DreamMy most intensely vivid dream I think ever witnessed in my life.The extended Poughkeepsie Manor Dream2 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
(in terms of detail and recollection/structure. This dream lasted... roughly 20 minutes)
Way atop this hill in Poughkeepsie, NY, my cousin's enormous manor was.
I made my way up this giant hill where a barbed wire fence and security
cameras all laid. I was with this hunter guy wearing woodland camo for some reason.
My previous dream before that was us hunting together, but it was more like me
watching him hunt and hide in the leaves... anyway, we both stood at the gates.
They said something over a loudspeaker, something like "Give them access."
They let me in. I couldn't believe what I was seeing in this enclosed, fenced in yard.
The yard was huge. brushes, bushes, flowers, bordering the yard. At one spot next
to his door, there was this big bush with flowers wrapped all around it, going all the
way up to the top. I saw 100 butterflies nesting around the flowers and fluttering about.
In the dream, I was so breath taken by
Dear Steve, October 7th October 7thDear Steve, October 7th3 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
I can't say I miss you because I only just spoke to you. It has come to my attention that I should write these letters to you as a way to resist messaging you constantly. I know I have many problems, one of the worst being my clinginess. I'll always be sorry I could never help myself, because no matter what anyone has said, you've been a great friend. Yes, you can be an asshat, but I don't find people quite like you who will be my friend and we don't have to have sex. It's just a fun passtime.
Of course, once I started writing this letter, you sent me a snapchat telling me you applied to the Volo Auto Museum. I'm glad you're still trying, though, in your situation, you don't have much of
Godzilla Dynasty fake trailer 1(We open to the Studio Ghibli, G-Kids and Legendary Pictures logos to soft piano music, hinting at a very melancholy tone before cutting to Godzilla Junior having a brief flashback of his father's death before we cut back again to Hisshin Gojo [the son of Asuza Gojo and Kazuma Aoki from Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla II] in a forest where he confronts what appears to be a wolf with blue/white fur. We then cut again to him sleeping to notice the wolf has transformed into a girl with wolf ears and hair the same blue and white color as its fur.)Godzilla Dynasty fake trailer 13 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
Hisshin: (cut to black) Who... who are you?
(We then cut to Godzilla Junior meeting with his human brother and the girl [Aya], Sanda and Gaira being contacted by Hisshin's grandfather Kenji Gojo [Azusa's father])
Lost in skies of powdered gold
Caught in clouds of silver ropes
Showered by the empty hopes
As I tumble down
Falling fast to the ground
(We see footage of Hisshin bonding with Aya)
So peel away the bark
Powerful and way too fullPowerful and way too full4 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
There was a line in front of the Ponyville cinema. Two stallions, an earth pony called Gear and a pegasus called Cyniquote were waiting. Gear said:"I can't believe "Pie in the eye 3" is already out. This is gonna be fun!"
"I don't know... it came out relatively quickly after the second one. I'm not getting my hopes up."
"Whatever floats your boat."
Suddenly, Cyniquote's sister, Tease Talk walked by:"Hi, Quoty. Hi, Gear."
Cyniquote said:"Well, I'm convinced. You have short term memory loss. How else can I explain you not getting that I don't like that nickname?"
"I need short term memory loss if I'm gonna deal with you talking."
The whole line laughed a bit, making Cyniquote groan.
Gear asked:"So, Tease Talk, how's your sink I repaired doing?"
"I have no idea you gave it emotions."
Gear and the rest of the line laughed, except for Cyniquote. He just had a worried look.
Meanwhile, in the Changeling kingdom, two changelings, one with no holes in his le
True Stories: Mushy Model (WG)Haven’t shared anything in a while, so I figured the following conversation would be a good one. I interacted with an old friend of mine on FB recently. To give you some background, she’s always been about 5’2”-3”ish (she’s pretty short) and usually weighed about 105 lbs. She’s also quite stunning, and was a girl in high school that everyone pined over. She was the classic genetic freak - because she had a very large chest, a 34-D usually, on such a tiny body.True Stories: Mushy Model (WG)5 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
This girl has done quite a bit of modeling and even some extra work in some movies. Anyway, it’s been quite a while since she’s done either. She put a post up about going back to the gym, and the following discussion ensued:
“I can’t move! I just started going back to the gym after stopping last fall. I’ve been eating and drinking like it’s my job.”
Of course, this piqued my interest. And I told her I doubt she needed to be in the gym.
Happy ThanksgivingHappy Thanksgiving to all my fellow deviants, watchers, readers, and artists. Hope you have a wonderful holiday and spend lots of time with the ones you love and care for!Happy Thanksgiving5 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
thank givingHappa Thank giving evewyone (I'm too lazy to type correctly right now but I might miss spell it anyway cause I very bad typer)thank giving5 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
Hinata's challengeOut of the Hidden Leave Village, A certain Kunoichi was training in the middle of the forest. The Kunoichi just broke down a tree. Dust was everywhere as the kunoichi was breathing in and out, standing in a stance. As the dust began to fade, the kunoichi was revealed. It was the White-Eyed Princess aka Hinata Hyuga. It looks like she was training while she was using the Byakugan. "I can't give up." Hinata said in her head. "I have to keep training. I have to get stronger!" Hinata continued. She then used her byakugan and attacked a tree and used the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms to knock down probably 5 trees with that move. She then turned off her byakugan and let out a sigh. "Good job, Hinata!" someone said. Hinata jumped and looked around, scared. "H-Hello? I-Is anyone there?" Hinata asked. A figure jumped from a tree and to the floor. Hinata saw the figure and walked slowly backwards and fell. The figure stood in sunlight and Hinata saw who it was. It was Sensei, Kurenai Yuhi. "HHinata's challenge6 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
Because of him, she died.He thought he could save the world, but at the cost of her life. He regrets it. He could no longer see her smile or hear her laugh or watch her dance. The tears ran down his face, never stopping. "I didn't know. I'm sorry, I didn't know." He choked back a sob. The tears didn't, couldn't, stop. He bowed to the earth, hands on the ground. He pleaded with every force he could think of to bring her back, but every one said, "I'm sorry, it can't be done." His screams echoed through the empty town. The tears still coming down. With a crackle of thunder, the rain came in mourning for her. She left in a blaze of glory. She died in hopes of seeing him again, and now he cradled her dead body against his chest. Whispering to her, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,..." In the soaking rain, he carried her to their home. He sat on the front porch in one the the few rocking chairs and held her. He brushed her wet hair out of her face and closed her eyes. He looked out in the pouring rain and knew. BecBecause of him, she died.6 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
Ladybug WishesJust the other night, I was just about to doze off; a soft blanket wrapped snuggly around my person as my eyelids grew heavy; lights and shadows danced languidly before my warmed form, cast into a magic battle from flames licking at logs in the fire, just a few feet from where I lay. But, suddenly, my drowsy reverie was interrupted by a soft tick-click-clacking coming from beneath the shade of a somber lamp nearby. A tiny shadow fluttered and fell, ascended and bent around the lip of the shade.Ladybug Wishes6 days ago in Stories & Vignettes
A tiny, red-speckled speck crawled its way dazedly up the jute fabric. A ladybug? In my house in the middle of November? I shivered.
I’d read somewhere that ladybugs like to hibernate in hidden crevices, sometimes sneaking their way into the hidden creases between siding panels and gutters. Cold-blooded, a ladybug loses its ability to function in the cold but can sometimes be drawn out of their slumber when homes warm to a temperature high enough to wake them. They mak
HolidaysAs this US holiday of Thanksgiving approaches I remember past holidays over my many years.Holidays1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
As a kid I remember the family get togethers with the tension of war times.
Neither happy with the other for what ever reason.
Mine was unique as my father was from the north and my mother was a southerner.
So my father was liberal in how he viewed folks.
My mother had that southern limitation that believed things could never be equal and folks should know their place.
But that was just not color......families down there had a pecking order based on importance.
You knew your place. There was a strict social hierarchy.
My father was raised up living in the city during the Great Depression. He remembers very lean times. Being hungry more than once. Social hierarchy had no place. Everyone needed to work together to survive.
Now think of two families getting together on a holiday like this.
The southern part did not like this northern part for their lack of social hierarchy.
Excerpt from untitled mystery thriller novelThere is a sound to a burning cigarette only an alcoholic is familiar with. It is the nearly-silent cry of dried tobacco leaves igniting. A faint crackling that is heard the moment air is pulled through the tar-infused stick, flashing bright orange, like an obnoxious warning signal, before the body is flooded with a toxic zephyr of smoke.Excerpt from untitled mystery thriller novel1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
There are definitely more warning labels to cigarettes, past what the Surgeon General requires on a box. Drinkers love their cigarettes, though; the two vices have formed a symbiotic relationship.
The kindling sound of the drag vibrated through Emmett’s skull and he settled back into his office chair, loosening his tie, and fixating on the whiteboard in front of him. He wasn't focused on the words any longer, not at this point. His eyes had become accustomed to looking at the white square of dull blue ink smears and pictures. It was now habit.
He was worn out from weeks of staring at the messily scribbled notes, trying to connect them like a chi
my emotional state (BECAUSE IT'S FUN) sum upI'm so sorry for all the emo poems I've been publishing recently and my general off and odd behavior. The doctor says it's normal for someone like me to behave like this so don't worry about it!my emotional state (BECAUSE IT'S FUN) sum up1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
You see, (I'm pretty sure you've got better things to care about) I'm hyper energetic. And that's the reason why I'm so weird
Sometimes I loose all my energy, and I turn into this hopeless and nervous wreck!!! I start to feel like a malfunctioning machine fueled by stress.
Like when it happens my brain just splits into two and I just loose it!
What I usually do under a tantrum like this is that I will spasmodically move my limbs around and I'll scream and yell things that don't make any sense (but when I say them I think they do).
E.g I took the nearest pillow and laid down on the nearest sofa. My body started shaking and I started "hitting" myself with the pillow while I screamed "I HATE YOU, MARIA" multiple times.
Take Stock And ?For me, it’s simple. Take stock and write, the rest will take care of itself.Take Stock And ?1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
Like now. I have no subject to write about except Maya Angelou (I think that’s her name) I have only read one or two poems by her on AllPoetry.com but I can see skill where it is and feel something great when I read her words.
Now sadly deceased, I am thinking now of Desmond Dekker another African American. Maybe, maybe not.. But before I go on I want to think. but how can I think when writing has the upper hand. I must type but typing fills the front of my brain and leaves little space for thought. Anyway, thought is overrated. Think of the times you have been happy and you might very well say that the times you had to think outnumber the times you were happy without having to think. This may be true or maybe not. But reading this you are thinking. How does that make you feel? But before I lose you perhaps I should mention the Harlem Globetrotters. Always good for a smile. All that showmans
Deppression "What is depression?" Asked an elementary school teacher. Her gaze scanning across the crowd of faces in her class, a single little boy raised his hand. "Yes?"Deppression1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
"It means to be really, really sad!" Cried the boy, a delighted look on his face as he had been called out of anyone else in the class, even if he was the only one to raise his hand
"Right!" said the teacher, proud that her studen was trying
Now we're in highschool, new teacher, new students, same question. The older man looked to his class, grimm faced and serious in tone and spoke, "Students, what is depression? What would you use to define depression?"
A young lady rose her hand, having been chosen out of the three others. "Intense feeling of sadness and isolation, sir." The teacher nodded before launching into a discussion of this disease, what he thought he knew of it.
Ha, so much more to it than simple sadness.
A Short Story(A/N: This is just a short story that I created. Well, I was bored. So this may be badly written or something.)A Short Story1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes
A girl lay on the grass across from her house, talking to herself while pointing at the clouds.
She suddenly sat up, her face held a deep frown. The sky was darkening, she knew what that meant. She got up and quickly ran inside, closing the door behind her and locking it tight. She walked to the kitchen, stomach grumbling at the scent of the food that awaited..
But wait! Something was wrong, her feelings weren't right. She walked to one of the counters, grabbing a knife. She was being cautious of her surroundings, she was ready to fight. A boom of thunder erupted from outside, shocking the girl and dropping the knife. The lights flickered on and off, the girl wished it would stop.
She fell down on her knees, shouting "Make it stop, make it stop please!"
The girl awoke with a light gasp. IT was just a dream, thank heavens for that. She glanced at the clock, seeing the time. Sh