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blood oranges are

we can
slice them open
without a moment’s
thought, -

their crimson juices
licked from our lips
like ichor.

& that is what
i want to be. -

scarred fruit,
still savoring
the promises
i sucked from
your mouth -

to wear
like staples
along my spine.

    - i was cut open
Anonymous Secret: “I wonder if I can use scarification as an excuse to break my promises…"

I would be lying if I said I've never thought about doing this myself.
This one got featured on tumblr, so I thought I would share.

More secrets can be found here:
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A princess with powers over the Cold.
a power from ancestors centuries old
When she ascends to be Queen of the kingdom,
her frosty power will unleash something fearsome.

Winter eternal will change the land's form.
Frost and snow will spread in the storm.
The curse of the Cold can be broken
by love long hidden and never spoken.
Remember when Disney said there will be a prophecy surrounding Elsa's powers and Arendelle's winter? Well, this is how I think it would go, had they done it. I had many ideas about Frozen before I saw it. The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway- Stamp by maybelletea Frozen: Kingdom of Arendelle by annmelisse .

Anyway, hope you enjoy it and FEEL FREE TO CHECK OUT MY FROZEN FAN VIDEO :icondragonhi: Elsa/Anna - I'm over it.
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this is a poem about how fixing people
is not romantic.
we’re not meant to be somebody’s answer,
we’re not meant to make someone feel alive again.

this is a poem about why you shouldn’t kiss him
because he’s broken
because you want to save him.

save yourself first.
kiss him because he holds a place in your heart, not
because he's the only thing making it pump.
kiss him because he’s in your life, not because
he is your life.

hold him, but don’t hold onto him because you believe
you’re drowning.
(get to dry land first.)


this is a poem about how i find poetry in everything.
breakups. my dad telling me i mattered.

nightmares. my neighbor’s insomnia.
how it drove him crazy.
how he swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills to fix it.

my neighbor’s funeral.


this is a poem about the split-apart theory.

the idea was that when humanity became arrogant
toward the gods, we were split in two
and were doomed to spend our lives searching
for our other halves.

i’m sorry, but i don’t like the idea that we are born
we are born whole.
with age, pieces of us are just taken away
and we try to fill in the spaces.

your body, your life, is a house and
if there are holes, empty rooms,
don’t give the key to strangers with pretty eyes
and velvet voices
who don’t belong.

you’ll know who’s worth keeping.
they may not give you pieces
but they will take nothing away.
they will not rent themselves to you,
they’ll let you move in
and your edges will click against one another.

they will leave you be and they will say, “let’s be imperfect


this is a poem about drinking.

don’t risk getting drunk
just so you’re brave enough to kiss him.
don’t risk waking up not remembering
the feel of his lips
and the push of his body on yours.

because you will, eventually.
you will feel that sloppy mouth

and you will feel regret.


this is a poem about what i remember.

i can point to any line i ever wrote
and tell you exactly what i felt
as the words came out of me,
if the ink blotted with tears,
if i smiled and dotted the i’s with hearts.

at one point i’m pretty sure i knew where i wanted to go;
i had a path and a goal at the end.
i dreamed of a husband
and two little boys, and a house in colorado.

then, nothing.
no husband, no goal, no path.

i want to know where it went but
i’m still not sure if i veered off the path
or if it steered away from me.

this is a poem about the day i woke up, and where everything
had once been, stood nothing.

this is also a poem about what i don’t remember.


this is a poem about irony.

irony is my neighbor eating a bottle of sleeping pills
because he just wanted to sleep.

irony is how he’ll sleep forever now.

(irony is that he didn’t fucking deserve that.)


humans are the most sensitive species.
our skin is fragile, and we have no fur. we bleed easily.

we know when to stop, when it hurts too much,
when to save our own lives.

we are weak, and exposed, and vulnerable.
we are born crying, and it's okay to cry now,
however many years it's been.

this is a poem about us, and how i love you all.


this is not a poem about the difference between any cut
and a broken heart
because, i've found, the pain is nearly the same.

this is a poem about recovery.

talk about what hurts. call your mother, call your father
and take your time.
write it down where you won't remember.

then let it go.
These literally have no theme anymore.

Many thanks to my boyfriend, for inspiring the section about human sensitivity. He claims he's not a poet. With each passing day, I've learned otherwise.
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You look nervously between your Mom, Dad, and Levi. There’s a very awkward moment where no one says anything.

Then, to your surprise, Levi makes the first move.

“Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. _______.” My name is Levi, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Levi says, holding his hand out to them. Huh? You weren’t aware that Levi could be so smooth or polite, judging by the way he talked to Erwin or the other squad leaders.

Mom and Dad smile and they each shake Levi’s hands. “It’s very nice to meet you Captain Levi. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Mom says, smiling at him. “Please, come in!” Dad steps back, giving you and Levi room to squeeze by and enter the house.

You pass through the door, and your heart twists in your chest. The house even smells the same; like wood, baked goods, and spices.

Mom and Dad follow after you, and Mom gives you a giant hug, almost cracking your ribs.

“______! It’s been so long!” She says, squeezing you even tighter. Dad also comes over and gives you a hug. “How was the trip here?” He asks, while ruffling your hair like when you were little. You duck and straighten your hair, although you can’t help but giggle.  

“Oh, pretty good. We left early, so we made good time and everything.” You answer, taking off your boots and setting them in the shoe rack. Levi copies you, and you feel flash of amusement as to how you’re the one leading now, rather than him.

“Where’s Terrence?” You ask, looking around.

“He had to go pick up a package, but he’ll be back in time for dinner. Why don’t you and Captain Levi take your bags upstairs?” Then, she turns to Levi. “We set up the guest room for you, so I hope it’s alright.” She says, sounding almost anxious. Levi nods and grabs both his bag and your bag, then walks up the stairs. You follow after him.

After dropping of your bags in your room, you lead Levi to the guest room, where he promptly drops his bags by the foot of the bed and lays on the bed, closing his eyes and sighing in relaxation.  

You sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey, I didn’t know you could be so polite. I was almost expecting you to make some sort of toilet joke at them.” You say weakly, remembering all the jokes he’d made to Hanji and Erwin.

Levi grunts. “Of course I’m polite; I just reserve my niceness for people who deserve it.”

“Right….” You laugh. Honestly, who would’ve imagined that Levi could be so nice? As if he could read your thoughts, Levi peeks at you with one eye. “If you tell anyone, I swear I’ll make you run laps for an entire month.” He threatens.

“Don’t worry Captain, your secret’s safe with me. But c’mon, let’s go back down.” You laugh, pulling him up.

Back downstairs, Mom has made some tea for you and Levi. She’s now in the kitchen, cutting up some vegetables. “What are you doing Mom?”

“Making dinner. I’m thinking of stew. Captain, is there anything you’d prefer?”

“Anything sounds good, thank you.” Levi replies. “And please, just Levi will do.” Mom nods, looking a little less tense. You deduce that she must be nervous being in the presence of the captain; after all, Levi could be rather …intimidating.

Just then, you hear the front door open. “I’m home!” A voice shouts.

“Terrence!” You run out of the kitchen and to the front door, running to give him a hug. You have to tippy-toe to hug him properly.

“Hey ______. Long-time no see.” He says, returning your hug. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was pretty relaxing.”

“So, where’s this famous boyfriend of yours?” Terrence asks, walking into the kitchen.

You follow after him. “It’s Levi, and he’s in the kitchen with Mom.”

Terrence stops and looks at Levi. “Captain Levi?” He asks, but it sounds more like a statement.

Levi gives a curt nod.

Terrence grins.

“I was expecting someone taller.”
Sorry this chapter's slightly shorter than usual, but I didn't want it to be too long. Don't worry, we'll see more next chapter! ;)
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With a rather long checklist in hand, Prince Gumball paced before the massive double doors of the palace's grand dining room.  Trying to calm her majesty's fraught nerves, Peppermint Maid followed closely behind him, trying to assure him that everything would be alright.  Gumball had been worrying himself into a tizzy for the past week, planning and scratching and re-planning the impending evening, but each time he thought he'd gotten things settled, he'd second guess himself and start over; the whole process was very demanding on not only the young prince, but also his waiting staff.

His original idea had been to turn the affair into a grand gala; a regal affair with beautiful gowns and clean-cut suits.  The food would be exquisite, the wine rich, and the company cut from the highest tier of society.  But as he was in the midst of organizing an extravagant feast, he stopped and rethought the entire event.  Completely disregarding his original idea, Gumball went back to the drawing board with his plans for the evening.  It would be private, secluded, a quiet dinner in the gazebo at the heart of the palace gardens; the roses would be in full bloom, and the summer air would be sweet and mild.  There they would be served a fine supper by candlelight to the song of a quiet string quartet.  But no, this idea was no good either!  The prince knew very well that Marshall Lee - though a romantic at heart - was high-octane and needed more than a night of regal isolation; he needed to be entertained.  From there Gumball had fussed over every new plan he drew up, rewriting the evening tens of times.

And now there he was, pacing in front of the dining room, writing up a seating-chart for all of their closest friends; Fionna and Cake – naturally – Lumpy Space Prince, several of Marshall Lee's undead friends.  He was halfway finished writing up the arrangements when he stopped suddenly, causing Peppermint Maid to bump into his legs as she shuffled anxiously behind him.  This would never work!  Marshall Lee's ghost friends had nearly killed Fionna and Cake on several occasions. He wasn't sure how much he trusted LSP to keep his gossip to a minimum after the fiasco had ensued when he found out about the secret relationship between the Candy Prince and the Vampire King.  Furiously Gumball tore the page from his notebook, crumpled it, and tossed it over his shoulder.  Dropping his notepad and pen the frustrated prince ran his fingers through his sugary locks, silently asking himself how he would ever be able to plan a perfect evening for his and Marshall's first anniversary when he kept throwing out all of his ideas.

Sighing and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he gave his advisor a sideways glance over his shoulder, taking comfort in the assuring look on Peppermint Maid's face.  She collected his notebook and pen, attaching both neatly to her clipboard and tucking that under her arm as if she was confiscating the lot such that the prince wouldn't worry himself anymore.

"I think it's time you took a break your majesty" she suggested with a caring smile.  "All this worrying isn't good for your mind, you'll run yourself ragged.  Why don't you take the night off and relax?  I'll help you think of another dinner plan in the morning."
This suggestion brought the slightest of smiles to Gumball's face, and he nodded with a quiet grunt of approval.

"That sounds like a fine idea, thank you Peppermint.  I'll see you bright and early then?"

"Absolutely your majesty," she nodded politely and looked up at the prince with a caring smile.  "Will you need any further assistance this evening?"

"I believe not," he replied with a curt shake of his head.  "Feel free to retire for the evening.  I think I might go into town this evening.  I still have yet to pick out a gift for Marshall, and perhaps a more social scene might relieve my stress."

"Would you like an escort your majesty?" she enquired, looking as if she was about ready to call together an entire division of the royal guard to walk the prince to town.

"That won't be necessary, I won't be out late."  With a slight nod, Gumball gave her a quick smile before turning and heading towards the door.

"Be careful, and avoid the south side of town your majesty," she called after him, "there have been more crime reports from there recently."  She put on a brave face, but still the maid's brow betrayed her worry as she waved the young man off.

"Don't worry Peppermint," he replied, "I'll be safe as safe can be."  Of course as soon as he was out of the door, Gumball smiled to himself and rolled his eyes; Peppermint Maid could be so overprotective sometimes.  Of course he knew her intentions were good, and he was glad that she cared for him so much, but sometimes it could be a bit much.  Sometimes he needed to get out from under his advisor's wing and do things on his own.  Doing things for himself always gave him the most satisfaction in the long run anyway, but of course he was always grateful for the help when it came to the overall management of the Candy Kingdom.  Being a prince was no easy task, of course.

The heat of the summer day was winding down into the thick warmth of the evening.  On the horizon, the last slender fingers of sunlight were reaching out from between the peaks of the purple Rock Candy Mountains.  The sky was painted in vibrant hues from royal blue to deep violate, vibrant magenta, and brilliant gold.  As he made his way into the city, Prince Gumball took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, humid air of the fast approaching Candy Kingdom night.  All across town, lanterns were being lit, casting their warm glow onto the candy-paved streets, making shadows dance and sugar glitter like diamond in the flickering firelight.  Gumball grinned.

As he made his way into town, the prince window-shopped for a good half hour before really getting serious about his search.  With all the hustle and bustle of trying to plan the perfect anniversary dinner, he hadn't put much thought into what he might get Marshall Lee as a gift.  He'd briefly considered purchasing the vampire a new bass guitar, but his axe-bass held so much sentimental value, he didn't want to appear as if he was trying to replace such a treasured possession.  As the evening wore on, he found his hunt for the perfect gift going much as his planning had, each new idea was worse than the last, and absolutely nothing would do.  By the time night had fallen completely, he was more wound-up than ever.

"What do you even get a guy who's been around for a thousand years?" He muttered to himself while looking halfheartedly through a vendor's stall full of fragrant soaps.  "Surely he's had his fill of material things… The world must seem so dull once you've seen it all a hundred times over."  Gumball sighed, looking up to check the time on the tall clock tower in the town square; nearly eleven o'clock – he still had plenty of time, but he was short on ideas.  "Whatever it is, it's got to be good," he mused, "knowing Marshall it'll mean more if it's genuinely from the heart, and it has to be unique, like nothing else in Ooo…"  For a moment the prince butted heads with the kiosk, earning a few awkward glances before he regained his composure.  "Why does he have to be so difficult to shop for?" Gumball asked himself in a low growl. "Why can't he just be like Fionna? She's easy to please; I've been getting her a new sword for her birthday for the past four years!"

With a groan, Gumball slouched and stuffed his hands into his back pockets, abandoning the soap vendor's stand and moving on down the street.  The worst part was that he knew Marshall Lee would have no trouble at all shopping for him; he probably wouldn't even need to shop.  The Vampire King was good with all that heart-warming sentimental stuff seeing as that's all that mattered to him anymore.  He could pour his heart out in a song, or wrap up one of his old trinkets: the sheer mass of the memories therein easily outweighing any monetary value.

As the evening progressed, Prince Gumball became more and more discouraged, his self-criticizing thoughts only bogging him down and making his search seem all the more hopeless.  With his gaze turned dejectedly downward, he almost didn't notice a familiar tall, dark figure silhouetted against the streetlights ahead.  When the shape did manage to catch his eye, Gumball's heart nearly skipped a beat.

"Marshall?" At first he was worried that the vampire would discover what he'd gotten him for their anniversary, but then he remembered he still hadn't gotten anything.  But wait! Maybe he could use this golden opportunity to ask what Marshall Lee actually wanted.  It wasn't the most original idea in Ooo, but it beat leaving empty-handed.  "What are you doing here?"  The night-walker looked up, startled by the sound of Gumball's voice, so much so that he nearly knocked over a display of brooms as he whirled around to face the prince.

"Oh! PG! Uh, I just got up and I was just out enjoying the night…" the Vampire King narrowed his eyes skeptically, "but I think the bigger question is 'what are you doing here?'  Isn't it a bit past your bedtime, prince?"  Letting his levitating feet touch the ground, Marshall Lee smirked and leaned against the closest storefront, looking a bit more casual than usual.

"I've been worrying myself sick over plans for… uh…" Gumball paused and thought quickly before he gave up his secret plans so easily, "this up-and-coming shindig…"  He could only hope that sounded viable.

"A shindig?" Marshall Lee inquired, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

"Well, it's more of a gala…"  Gumball trailed off, averting his gaze.  By now he was quite sure his friend could tell he was fudging the truth.  Still, Marshall Lee played along, if for no other reason than because he liked to see the candy prince get flustered.

"A gala you say?  Seems a far cry from a shindig, don'cha think?"

"Well it's less of a gala and more of a fete."

"Sounds fancy, Bubba."

"It's really more of a carousal than a fete."

"A carousal?"

"A soiree."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Gumball finally retorted, having gained no ground at all in terms of finding out what kind of celebration Marshall Lee would prefer.  "A soiree is exactly what I'll be hosting.  Do you think that sounds like something you'd like to attend?"  A wily smile spread across the vampire's thin lips as he smirked knowingly at the prince.

"If it's a Bubba Gumball party, it's gotta be good.  Consider me there."  Marshall Lee lowered his eyes, trying his very best not to chuckle as his ruffled prince recovered.  "When will it be?"

"Oh," he hesitated, trying to think of a quick answer, "well I'm not quite sure yet.  Like I said; the planning of it all has been running me ragged."  The prince also tried to act casual, but ended up looking rather silly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well let me know as soon as you get the date decided," the vampire purred, pushing off of the wall such that he was standing again rather than leaning.

"Of course!  You'll be the first to know."  Gumball's nervousness was beginning to fade and the smile began to creep back onto his face.

"Cool," the night-walker murmured, glancing over his shoulder at the quiet nightlife in the street behind him.  "Hey Bubba," he trailed off for a moment, as if second guessing his words before thinking better of it. "You wanna walk with me?  I understand if you're really stressed out and you need some space-"

"I'd love to walk with you" the prince cut in, taking Marshall Lee's hand in his with poorly-hidden enthusiasm.  The elder smiled warmly and squeezed Gumball's hand affectionately.  Before he could further interject, the candy teen too was cut off as quick peck from the Vampire King muddled the beginning of his next word.  With that Marshall Lee beamed, and the prince chuckled bashfully as they started to make their way down the road
~cumro2 gave me the prompts “Shopping” and “Anniversary” and this is what I came up with. There’s more to this story to be told if you want more, but for now I’m tired and need some sleep.

Let me know if I ought to continue this story or not.
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     Eggman attacked on the sixth day. But it wasn't the blue hero he attacked.

     "Perfect!" Sonic cried happily after a call from the police on Eggman's location, "Eggy's attacking again!"

     "And that's a good thing?" Cream asked, wincing as Amy bent and straightened her arm. It wasn't broken, or even sprained like they thought; just bruised real bad.

      "Don't you see?" sonic asked, "After we defeat Eggman, he'll run away to his base – "

      " – and  that's where Shelby and Lindsey's bracelet will be!" Tails exclaimed!

     "Exactly, little bro!"

     "Let's go then!" Knuckled said.

     Eggman was in the Mystic Ruins on top of a cliff. And he wasn't alone. In front of him stood what looked like a blue mix of a wolf and a hedgehog. The Sonic Team stood on top of another cliff, watching them.

     "Give me the damn Emerald, girl!" Eggman shouted, his metal claw going after her. The girl directed her hand to a pile of rocks. They began to float in the air. Her hand moved to the direction of the metal claw coming at her. The rocks flew and hit the claw, denting it in a few places.

     "I don't have your fucking Emerald!" she screamed, "Leave me alone!" she motio0ned to the rocks and then to Eggman. The rocks whizzed through the air and pelted Eggman's tiny bald head.

     "Comet?" Amy wondered aloud, "What's she doing here?"

     "You know her?" Sonic asked.

     "Yeah, she's a friend of mine. But she moved away a few years ago."

     "Guess she moved back," Knuckles suggested.

    "But what could she be doing here? And what does Eggman want with her?" Amy noted.

     "Sounds like she's got a Chaos Emerald," Tails noted.

     "Well, as much as I like seeing that fatso be hit with bricks, let's go help her," Sonic chuckled. He ran down the cliff and in seconds his foot collided with Eggman's abnormally large nose. The others ran down after him.

     "Comet!" Amy cried.

     "Amy!" Comet yelled, "What are you doing here?!"

     "Saving your ass!" she giggled, hugging her friend.

      "My ass doesn't need saving," she hugged her back, "But thanks anyway,"

      "Oh no!" Eggman moaned after recovering, "Not you brats again!"

     "Picking on innocents again, Eggy?" Sonic smirked, "Just how far are you willing to sink in your reputation?"

     "Shut up, you stupid hedgehog!" Eggman growled.

      "Shut up? Stupid? Those aren't very nice words, Eggy. I think you need a time out to think about your language. Wouldn't you agree, fellas?"

      The crowed began to laugh at the insult. Knuckles pulled out his cell phone and pressed the record button.

      "You brat! I'll make you pay!"

      The metal claw shot out at Sonic. He dodged it easily, "Pay?" he asked innocently, "Sorry, can't do that. I don't wear clothes, therefore I have no pockets, and therefore I have no money. Guess I'll just have to write you an I.O.U!" The claw lunged for Sonic again. He jumped onto it as it retracted, giving him the perfect opportunity to give Eggman another punch.

     Amy's eyes narrowed in on the back of Eggman's hover chair. On the back was a small panel that said, "CONTROL BOX," Her eyes brightened and she whispered instructions to Tails. His eyes drifted to where hers were moments ago and he smirked, nodding at her request.

      "Wow, Eggman! You're getting faster! You might be able to beat me this time!" Sonic laughed, running around Eggman several times to make him dizzy. The claw shot out again and missed the blue hedgehog by an inch.

      "Shut up!" the fat man screeched.

      "Hey, I was giving you a compliment! The least you could do is say thank you!"

      "You stupid hedgehog! I'll kill you!"

      "And you say I'm the one without manners!" Sonic smirked, dodging the weapon again, "You know, Eggman, I'm starting you think you're the one without manners,"

      Amy walked over to Comet and whispered in her ear. A wide, evil smile spread across her face.

      Sonic noticed Tails sneaking to the back of Eggman's chair. He pressed his finger to his lips. Sonic gave him his signature thumbs up and returned his attention to Eggman, "You don't like compliments, eh? Fine. You're a fat, lazy, unaccomplished asshole who has nothing better to do than to try and kill a poor, innocent, blue talking hedgehog! That better?"

       "There is absolutely no way you're innocent, Sonic!" Knuckles laughed.

       "More innocent than you, Knux!" he retorted. Knuckles stopped laughing.

      The claw lunged again. Unexpectedly, a dozen or so stones flew at it with such speed, you could only hear them pounding against the metal. Comet had resumed her rock throwing.

       Amy then walked over to Cream and whispered in her ear. Cream's eyes darted to the rocks, to Eggman, and then smiled.

      Tails took a screw driver from his work belt and began to unscrew the bolts on the box, very quietly so no one could hear him.

      A large rock suddenly hit the top of Eggman's thinning head. Cream had now joined Comet and was throwing rocks at Eggman from above.

      "You know, Egghead, I never understood your obsession for me," Sonic announced as he dove swiftly from the weapon again, "I mean, I know I'm strong," he flexed the muscles on his arms, kissing each of his biceps lovingly, "And I know I'm fast," to prove it, he circled the balding fat man as fast as he could until Eggman's eyes spun and his skin turned a sickly green.

     "I know I'm devilishly handsome," Sonic gave out his heart stopping smile and slicked his quills back, giving Amy a special wink he reserved only for her. She swooned and his smile grew.

      "And I'm romantic," Sonic ran away and came back in a millisecond with a red rose. He palmed it off to Amy and kissed her cheek. She smiled and fingered the petals of her rose.

     "And I know I'm a great kisser," he suddenly wrapped his arms around Amy's waist, dipped her, and kissed her as passionately as he could. Amy gasped and dropped her rose in surprise, but kissed him back with as much love as he had, maybe more. When they came up for air, he set her upright, "Aren't I, babe?" he asked her. She couldn't stop giggling, so she nodded.

       "And I'm definitely talented," he caught four or five of Comet's flying stones and juggled them while he stood on his head. Everyone laughed hysterically. Sonic chanced a glance at Tails. Tails motioned for him to keep going. Sonic flipped over onto his feet and threw the rocks he had at the claw coming at him again.

       "Overall, I'm awesome!" he smirked. The claw, extremely dented from Comet's rocks, made a grab for the hedgehog. He dodged it again, continuing to tease his opponent

      "But I still don't get it!" he yelled, "You're not exactly my biggest fan, are you?"

      "Stand still, you brat!" Eggman screamed, throwing his fists into the air. Another large rock fell onto his head, silencing him for the moment.

      "And I've never done anything to you either,"

      "Understatement of the century," Knuckles muttered under his breath. Amy chuckled.

       "You foil all of my plans to rule the world, that's what you do!"

       "I'm just trying to keep things normal," Sonic snickered, "No one would like it under your rule, Eggman!"

      A different claw came out of a compartment in his chair, a newer, shinier one, and both of them attacked. Comet began to pelt Eggman with bigger rocks, the size of backpacks, and also sending rocks to Cream so she didn't have to fly back and forth.

       "Aha! I think I figured it out!" Sonic cried as he backed away from the weapons, "Are you in love with me Eggman?!"

      The laughter surrounding them grew louder. Eggman's face turned cherry red with anger and you could also see steam rolling out of his ears.

       "Is that it, Eggman? You love me so much you hate me?" Sonic dodged the claws again, "I mean, I knew you weren't straight, but come on, Eggy! Fall in love with a male animal?! That's just sick!"

       Eggman was on the verge of exploding. His eyes were popping out of their small goggles. His body was growing and growing with anger, almost bursting the buttons off his jacket. His mustache quivered, a frightened rodent glued to his upper lip.

      "Sorry, bud, but I'm straight and taken!" Sonic laughed, putting his arm around his girlfriend, "And not sick, for that matter,"

       "I'LL KILL YOU!" Eggman shrieked. The claws lunged directly at the blue hero and his pink beauty.

      And then they stopped, make a series of strange noises, and fell to the ground.

      "Wha. . . what happened?!" he screamed.

      Tails returned from behind his chair, several plugs and cords in hand, "We disconnected all of your weapons,"

      "Now what were you saying, Eggman?" Amy asked, crossing her arms and leaning into Sonic's side. He tightened his arm around her.

       Eggman looked nervous, "W-what I was s-s-saying was . . . I-I mean . . . w-what I m-meant to s-say w-was . . . oh, look at the time, I must be going now!" he stuttered. Pressing a few buttons on his chair, he zoomed off in the opposite direction.

      "Dude, I just got the whole thing on camera!" Knuckles laughed as he pressed the stop button on his phone.

      "Follow him!" Cream called, pointing at his dust trail.

     And the chase was on.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! :rofl: :lmao: :laughing: Oh God, I can't believe I thought of all that stuff. That's funny s*** right there! Damn! HA!

Oh, we also have a new character to the story. Everyone welcome Comet! :clap:

Comet (c) :iconsonamyforever14:

Chapter 39: [link]

Chapter 37: [link]
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"It's not often you invite me over for tea, Arthur!" you chirped.

Arthur smiled. He had given you tea and treats that he insisted that he made himself but you swore they had to have been made by Austria because they looked flawless and tasted delicious. When you had asked who made them he said he did but you knew for a fact that England's cooking skills were… lacking in the department but he could make good tea and biscuits so perhaps cupcakes fell in that category as well? But England just laughed and giggled to himself, as if you had told him some sort of joke when you told him how good the cupcakes and tea were. You didn't see what was so funny. Perhaps his faery friends were telling him jokes. What worried you was if they were making fun of you. Since you couldn't see them, they could very well be mocking you with you in the room and you would never be able to tell. You hoped not. You had a crush on England. You were hoping that this spontaneous tea time was a chance for you to tell him how you really felt but as of right now you were just worried. England wasn't acting like himself at all.

"I just thought it was high time we got together and chatted a bit!" he said just as cheerfully.

You frowned though. England was dressed rather oddly. From his purplish-pink vest to the light pink long sleeve button up shirt, underneath, it screamed something strange about your good friend. His tie was a light blue, but very intense with the color choice. He had orange-tan slacks – you really couldn't tell the color no matter how hard you stared at it. But his shoes were pink as well. That was weird. England had always been so particular about how he dressed. Everything had to match or else his entire day was thrown off. Had France broken into his home and stolen his clothes again? It wouldn't be the first time that it had happened. But what worried you the most was that he hadn't sat down yet so you couldn't get a good look at him.

"Is everything… Okay, Arthur?"

"What? Of course! Everything is absolutely smashing, doll!"

Now you knew something was seriously wrong. He had called you doll. That was one of Alfred's words from the 1920s. He hated Alfred's slang! You narrowed your eyes as you watched your friend. Nothing added up. His new attire was bothersome to the eyes and a complete horror in all other manners. His hair was slightly pinkish and unless Scott slipped red hair dye into his shampoo again and it was just fading there should be no reason why his hair was pink. Was Arthur trying to trick you? What would he gain from that? He was your best friend! There was no reason to prank you. You normally chatted about how he could get back at Alfred or Francis for teasing him all the time anyways. You were the one who instigated the revenge. However now, all your red flags were up. Something wasn't right with Arthur.


You stood up quickly but a wave of dizziness swept over you. Arthur was at your side in a heartbeat, easing you back into the cushions, but he was smiling as he looked down at you. Why was he smiling? But then you looked up into his eyes and froze. Those eyes – those weren't Arthur's eyes. Those eyes were not the emerald ones you knew so well, they were different – so completely different from what you had grown used to seeing. Those glowing cobalt and roseate orbs seemed to see right through to your very soul, the smirk on those coral lips one more sinister than what you were initially used to. What had been in those cupcakes? Why was Arthur acting so strangely? You felt weak, pathetically so, and as you tried to fight back, England's hold got tighter on you to the point where it was painful.


"Rest sweetie!" the fake Arthur chirped.

You tried to fight his hold but he laid you back on the couch as gently as if you were made of glass. Your eyes widened when he picked up a roll of plastic wrap from under the table. What was he going to do with that? Your panic increased as he straddled your stomach, effectively pinning you down, save for your arms. You fought to lift your hands but they felt as heavy as iron bars and no matter how hard you tried you could bring them up even an inch. He unrolled the plastic, making a nice straight layer. You cringed, trying to get away from him as he smiled down at you. Those eyes, those horrifying eyes, were watching you with rapid attention. You wanted to make him stop looking at you. A whimper escaped your throat.

This was a dream.

It had to be.


"Now… This won't hurt a bit!"

The plastic wrap came down on your face as you tried to scream but not a sound escaped your lips as his knee was pressed into your esophagus. Tears welled up in your eyes – the one thing you actually could control as you looked up at the psychopath who was sitting on you, hurting you – killing you. The plastic covered your nose and mouth, blocking all air from getting to you. You tried thrashing your head side to side but in your state all you managed to do was wiggle your head from side to side but that didn't stop this fake England from pressing harder on the plastic, but it didn't rip, to your dismay. Silently you begged for him to stop. You were hurting and scared. You wanted this to be over, though not with you dying like you feared you would.

"Don't fight!" the fake England insisted, "It's not that bad!"

The man leaned down, smiling at you lovingly. He then pressed his lips to the plastic, kissing you as your oxygen was deprived. His lips pressed against your plastic covered ones almost brutally. You cringed at the sheer pressure. It hurt but you couldn't stop him. Your lungs were burning, begging for some form of release. What made it worse was that as he kissed you, he kept his eyes wide open. They were watching you, peering into your soul as the life drained away from you. The last thing you saw before you blacked out were those eyes, pink and blue and swirling and that smile, forever etched into your mind.
As I promised a while back, one 2P England but I'm working on a chaptered story too. It's just a little slower to get out with as many multi-chaptered stories I have going on right now.
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& I have forgotten
how to write in poetics-
tongue kissed & gaping like
a siren missing from her sea.

I have been coughing up black
for days.  Unable to clean the taste
from my mouth, these broken
typewriter keys sewn into my
fingertips scream something fierce.

They ache with longing
to tell of a story

  • that left them
    for a better high
    years ago

  • a story that never deserved
    to make a home under the skin,
    to crawl breech through an
    unsuspecting womb.

  • -& out through the wrists
    of young girls much too ripe
    to fall from their beds.

I am so damn tired
of looking over railings
& wondering what
it would feel like
to fall.
I stared over a railing this morning
until everything but the ground
was one big blur and my head
started spinning.
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“the neighbor’s house smelled
like the ocean when i walked past,” you say.
“it’s a sign that i’m drowning.”

“i stepped in two patches of fresh dirt.
it’s a sign that they’ll be digging my grave.”

“i saw the boy i’d lost my virginity to today.
it’s a sign that i’m going to cheat on you.”

“you wake me up with this shit,” he says in annoyance.
“is that a sign i should break up with you?”

“no,” you say, not looking at him, fighting
to keep smiling. “it means -”

he goes back to bed.

he thinks you don’t get it,
but you do.

you do.


he teaches you about chemistry,
about physics and the stars.

he teaches you that the universe is finite,
but constantly expanding;
he takes you hand to his chest, and says
“like my feelings for you.”

used to be, you thought he was your gravity
because you were so drawn to him
but gravity’s only a theory.

you’re just hopelessly stuck in his orbit now.

covalent bonds share pairs of electrons.
with him, you share absolutely nothing.
maybe once.

but now you’re two dying stars.
now, you’re burning out.


“i’m considering writing you into a book
where we both died.
wouldn’t it be easier if we died right now?”

“how would it be easier?”

“we would die thinking we still love each other.
we wouldn’t have to face that it’s not true.”

"you wouldn't," he says. "you mean you."

after a minute, you wipe your eyes. “yes.”
“i mean me.”


“i’m not religious,” you say one day,
“but i believe in hell.”

“did you record my show?”

“hell for me is a little different.
my version is meeting a man after you.
he asks me out, and i tell him no
because you happened to me.”

he stands. “okay. i think i should go.”

of course he doesn’t.
and the next day, you go out. you hold hands.

hands connect you, but only on a physical level.
it’s small. it’s nothing.
hands can’t hold the pieces of you together.

you suppose, in the future, you two will need
this steady reference point
against which to measure all the catastrophic motions
your bodies will take
when you finally
fall apart.


you teach him about literature,
bukowski and nabokov.

you teach him that reading is medicine
because the biggest risk is a paper cut.

he is a poem, and he is free verse.
his stanzas are exhilaratingly unpredictable,
the repetition of “i love you, i love you, i love you”
the only steady thing in your ear.

you were his favorite book but there’s a cost
because he’s broken your spine.

he’s dogeared your pages, the parts of you he liked,
and left a permanent dent in you.

you keep writing. you write a house. you write yourself
and him in it, with a picket fence and two dogs.
you can’t write him a new soul, but you try.

the law of the conservation of energy states
that no matter can be created or destroyed.

that necklace he made for you,
it could be made out of saturn’s rings,
or stardust, millions of years old.

and his love for you –
it’s still out there, somewhere.
It's safe to say that I'm in love with deep space.
Physics is poetry if you know where to look.

edit: Featured here!
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People say that there are not that many Wonder Boys,
But I can simply say that that's a Love Disease,
And they'll have to say Sorry, Sorry.

Happiness isn't a Miracle,
It comes from Dancing Out and Shaking it Up when times are looking down.

Are you ready?
This is a Song for You,
To tell you Why I Like You.
So Smile and know that the beautiful Shining Star,
It's You.

My Heartquake will forever go Boom Boom,
So know this Mr. Simple, I'm Yours, and you're My Everything.

Baby, Baby,
The Moon Represents My Heart.
I'll Listen to You, Run to You,
And show you Between Right and Wrong.

I'll never give you my Resignation,
This is Who I Am,
I'm your Super Girl,
And you're my Super Man.

There is only one Way for Love,
During this Endless Moment,
Let's Keep in Touch.

There is no Reset.
You are my Sapphire Blue,
My Wish.

This is a poem I wrote my for English Class.
I wrote it using at least one Super Junior song title in every sentence. I think it came out great.

Prom15e to 13elieve!
Elf For Eternity. :iconpinkheartplz:

P.S: It got a 150 out of 100!! :iconarigatouplz:

Cover photo provided by:
:iconkairuxriisu: Check her out! Her edits are amazing! :iconeweplz:
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