so idiot-jumps-
... Oh shit.
But how many geological eras do not write on this thing?
Santa.
I wanted to vent and open the LJ with Nightwish background I think is the best way.
Here.
Today she is gone. Lei
I think I spent the three happiest days in recent months, but obviously I'll tell him why certain things are like in Norway. Cold
.
Very cool.
However, strangely, I did not shed no tears. Dunno, maybe because I was too happy, or perhaps because she does not deserve my tears. Possible
latter case.
Anyway.
Tomorrow I leave.
I go again in the mess of the place.
I really can not stand it. The worst thing is that, with seven Roleplayer account, if I do not have connection will be a cosmic drama.
I do not want to go.
not even snows, WHY 'I should bother?
Not to mention that I have to go to dinner by friends of dad ... god, vomiting at the thought-sblergh. That's exactly
.
Four hours of travel, such that I can hear all the songs the mp3 at least twice, which is worrying abbestia. And then that hole.
...
I will die first.
But because I chose to stay here, why? Ah
here. Otherwise we took the
.
MIII THAT MEEEERDA. It
bine.
flew away, trying to finish with the role malavedodifficileassai Netherlands.
and shit. Tomorrow I can not
role with his wife.
Vaffa-MA-
DenNor lost and crying on roll-off
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
How Can I Apply At Vans Shoes
Desperate hours.
Title of chapter: Desperate hours.
Characters: Gilbert Beilschmidt Prussia} {
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES Introspective / Angst / Flash-fic
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
A good smell, that of blood. Iron, heat that emanates from the ground become too soaked in the red liquid of life to keep other, disgust. Silent drops that hit dead bodies slumped on rocks crumbled hatred and clash of arms that face; bitter sounds of agony that pierce the eardrums and reach the brain, eating it with terrible jaws and sharp as pikes crossing unsuspecting breasts.
Corpses.
and crows. A continuous crackle, hiss and dirty with black wings of death, feather cloaks that hide the meager performance of a swollen body and bitter to give, then only the white bones picked clean. Too many crows, so many corpses. Eyes to a world upside down that is not here, hands wrapped around cold air and acid, blocked in languages form words that never see the faint light of the winter sun.
Desolation. Support
in its midst a uniform is soiled with God's own blood, land, and pain. The sword drips black liquid forming a pool, seething with hatred, of rage and glory. But that glory can be, even for God, to observe a landscape that has nothing glorious than the fact you can still see the rising sun?
white hair shining, full of splendor, the only spot of purity in that death-bed sick, smelly miasma and echoes of screaming and moaning against the wind.
boots sunk in the mud, his face old and beautiful and selfish overlooking a sick smile, a smile of someone who has seen too many times the close brush with death with hooked fingers and skeletal afraid. Immortal, an albino with red eyes scrutinizes the desolation alert, with bright red eyes like the flames of Hell that they have rejected on the ground with no hope of appeal. There is place for him.
in some places.
A beast.
A beast thirsting for battle, a beast strategist, cunning, and fatally beautiful, a spider, weaving the fabric and makes you fall into the most beautiful butterflies. A
God is a God of War, that has nothing better to do but turn around Europe, which change the boundaries of cities and towns, which expand the offshoots of an empire of one language and one culture, combine them all under one banner striking.
black eagle, which spreads its mighty wings on small birds chirping in the desperate hope of saving.
mad, mad!
No one can escape.
From the dance of God and a skeleton can be born only a beautiful death.
Let yourself, it will be painless. A Magnificent become
be your king. Your Emperor, your God, your future and past and present.
You see? Enlarge the tired arms, the precious cloth rustles the muscles under tension.
welcomes you. Thrown
.
Or you will be devoured.
Title of chapter: Desperate hours.
Characters: Gilbert Beilschmidt Prussia} {
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES Introspective / Angst / Flash-fic
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. Desperate hours.
A good smell, that of blood. Iron, heat that emanates from the ground become too soaked in the red liquid of life to keep other, disgust. Silent drops that hit dead bodies slumped on rocks crumbled hatred and clash of arms that face; bitter sounds of agony that pierce the eardrums and reach the brain, eating it with terrible jaws and sharp as pikes crossing unsuspecting breasts.
Corpses.
and crows. A continuous crackle, hiss and dirty with black wings of death, feather cloaks that hide the meager performance of a swollen body and bitter to give, then only the white bones picked clean. Too many crows, so many corpses. Eyes to a world upside down that is not here, hands wrapped around cold air and acid, blocked in languages form words that never see the faint light of the winter sun.
Desolation. Support
in its midst a uniform is soiled with God's own blood, land, and pain. The sword drips black liquid forming a pool, seething with hatred, of rage and glory. But that glory can be, even for God, to observe a landscape that has nothing glorious than the fact you can still see the rising sun?
white hair shining, full of splendor, the only spot of purity in that death-bed sick, smelly miasma and echoes of screaming and moaning against the wind.
boots sunk in the mud, his face old and beautiful and selfish overlooking a sick smile, a smile of someone who has seen too many times the close brush with death with hooked fingers and skeletal afraid. Immortal, an albino with red eyes scrutinizes the desolation alert, with bright red eyes like the flames of Hell that they have rejected on the ground with no hope of appeal. There is place for him.
in some places.
A beast.
A beast thirsting for battle, a beast strategist, cunning, and fatally beautiful, a spider, weaving the fabric and makes you fall into the most beautiful butterflies. A
God is a God of War, that has nothing better to do but turn around Europe, which change the boundaries of cities and towns, which expand the offshoots of an empire of one language and one culture, combine them all under one banner striking.
black eagle, which spreads its mighty wings on small birds chirping in the desperate hope of saving.
mad, mad!
No one can escape.
From the dance of God and a skeleton can be born only a beautiful death.
Let yourself, it will be painless. A Magnificent become
be your king. Your Emperor, your God, your future and past and present.
You see? Enlarge the tired arms, the precious cloth rustles the muscles under tension.
welcomes you. Thrown
.
Or you will be devoured.
. Finish.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Preston And Steve Sound Clips
.___.
The saddest thing is that you think you scare me.
thinks that his words may strike me in some way. It 's so ... ridiculous.
that I absolutely do not think of his views I do not give anything, nor have any idea than I am more complex than her.
And it is sad.
Why, after making me yet another lecture on the PC, I see the fun for two consecutive hours as a forum for moms.
I think that people are not normal.
Not at all.
The saddest thing is that you think you scare me.
thinks that his words may strike me in some way. It 's so ... ridiculous.
that I absolutely do not think of his views I do not give anything, nor have any idea than I am more complex than her.
And it is sad.
Why, after making me yet another lecture on the PC, I see the fun for two consecutive hours as a forum for moms.
I think that people are not normal.
Not at all.
Monday, November 15, 2010
What Do Purple And Yellow Bands Mean
Owo
But how long before not on LJ?
Mammamia D:
Santa, write some bullshit and then we go to ruoleggiare-and it was found that none was available, FUCK-
I do not know, lately seems that everything is going well.
school, family, friends ... a bit 'less health, but one can not be perfect. Figuriamosi, I also decided to take in no more cosplay passively = w = /
For the rest nothing. I hope that the inspiration to write back soon, since I decided to be clever-stupid-to participate in two contests and I have to guarantee me at least fourth place, after the last experience = w =
Nothing new under the sun, inzomma .
Ah, yes.
not want to do the exam, hahahahahahaha.
But how long before not on LJ?
Mammamia D:
Santa, write some bullshit and then we go to ruoleggiare-and it was found that none was available, FUCK-
I do not know, lately seems that everything is going well.
school, family, friends ... a bit 'less health, but one can not be perfect. Figuriamosi, I also decided to take in no more cosplay passively = w = /
For the rest nothing. I hope that the inspiration to write back soon, since I decided to be clever-stupid-to participate in two contests and I have to guarantee me at least fourth place, after the last experience = w =
Nothing new under the sun, inzomma .
Ah, yes.
not want to do the exam, hahahahahahaha.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
How Much Is A Charriol Bracelet
crisis
You know that strange feeling that comes when you think you are the only sane people left on earth? Well I hope for you is not.
It 's like if people had rimbecillia in one minute. I feel more and talk with others more I become aware of their hypocrisy, their stupidity. We are all the puppets controlled by the mass media, advertising, fashion, from multinational related to our bosses in a thick wire made of tears and dirty oil money and blood.
society and its rules us even if we change any habit is not aware of it.
And then there is the thing that makes me more furious than any other, the audience! Yes, because it is he who creates money, it is he who makes us all victims of the tv. just look at how a family tragedy has made my throat at every Italian network, transforming it into a pathetic joke and devoid of any morality. There is talk of blasphemy when you do not take with respect to religion, but now that not even death and suffering are met, now that every tragedy is an opportunity to grab as much money as possible, not dovrenmo now speak blasphemy?
buy our souls with fake art, trying to make us all the same with fashion and plastic surgery, they want to alienate and suck every ounce of humanity left to be able to manage. Petrushka, that's what we are. Useless puppets used to attract people and excite people equally exploited. Making our life and our pathetic suffering distressing. Remember
Petrushka has a heart.
You know that strange feeling that comes when you think you are the only sane people left on earth? Well I hope for you is not.
It 's like if people had rimbecillia in one minute. I feel more and talk with others more I become aware of their hypocrisy, their stupidity. We are all the puppets controlled by the mass media, advertising, fashion, from multinational related to our bosses in a thick wire made of tears and dirty oil money and blood.
society and its rules us even if we change any habit is not aware of it.
And then there is the thing that makes me more furious than any other, the audience! Yes, because it is he who creates money, it is he who makes us all victims of the tv. just look at how a family tragedy has made my throat at every Italian network, transforming it into a pathetic joke and devoid of any morality. There is talk of blasphemy when you do not take with respect to religion, but now that not even death and suffering are met, now that every tragedy is an opportunity to grab as much money as possible, not dovrenmo now speak blasphemy?
buy our souls with fake art, trying to make us all the same with fashion and plastic surgery, they want to alienate and suck every ounce of humanity left to be able to manage. Petrushka, that's what we are. Useless puppets used to attract people and excite people equally exploited. Making our life and our pathetic suffering distressing. Remember
Petrushka has a heart.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Watch Shelly Martinez Notorious
: D Well well
Tomorrow begins the university!
nice that nice!
start with three hours to shoot the history of China Bam!
and then last hour Chinese language * _ *
if I had to wake up at 6 every morning I would say that the university is perfect: D
too excited I'm going to buy a cm squared EXERCISE cones for Cangi or whatever they call those Cosini!
\u0026lt;3
Tomorrow begins the university!
nice that nice!
start with three hours to shoot the history of China Bam!
and then last hour Chinese language * _ *
if I had to wake up at 6 every morning I would say that the university is perfect: D
too excited I'm going to buy a cm squared EXERCISE cones for Cangi or whatever they call those Cosini!
\u0026lt;3
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Walgreens X Box Live Cards
I miss U. So much.
~ Ok, ok.
I know that I can look like a victim after this post, but ...
I'm wrong.
I feel bad because they do not allow me to see her, I feel bad because the day after they started school and I will have to console her perfume. I feel bad because I miss him too.
I know that I can see, I know that before we can be together Romics alone but ...
I miss, I miss her so much ...
Shit ...
~ Ok, ok.
I know that I can look like a victim after this post, but ...
I'm wrong.
I feel bad because they do not allow me to see her, I feel bad because the day after they started school and I will have to console her perfume. I feel bad because I miss him too.
I know that I can see, I know that before we can be together Romics alone but ...
I miss, I miss her so much ...
Shit ...
Monday, September 6, 2010
Sell Blood In Chicago
. __.
It 's a period a bit' strange, this. Son
lot of things happened, first of all that I be trusted again by anyone in the field ... as they say, sentimental. It 'was a step suffered enough, even though the spot did not appear at all.
Then the mood ... mah. I am tired, actually.
Tired of all these problems, tired of the summer for me has meant little or nothing and, indeed , has done nothing but get closer to what I consider a major stumbling block.
stress for the fair is the highest level, I do not really know how to stay alive without me to take from such disorders and hysterical robina similar.
The pc obviously does not help. Just yesterday I wanted to break it, I was taking a tremendous crisis.
Well, yes. A period
of shit.
It 's a period a bit' strange, this. Son
lot of things happened, first of all that I be trusted again by anyone in the field ... as they say, sentimental. It 'was a step suffered enough, even though the spot did not appear at all.
Then the mood ... mah. I am tired, actually.
Tired of all these problems, tired of the summer for me has meant little or nothing and, indeed , has done nothing but get closer to what I consider a major stumbling block.
stress for the fair is the highest level, I do not really know how to stay alive without me to take from such disorders and hysterical robina similar.
The pc obviously does not help. Just yesterday I wanted to break it, I was taking a tremendous crisis.
Well, yes. A period
of shit.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Best T-mobile Commercials
I hate fucking.
It is not humanly possible.
jalopy This worked for a month in the hole of the village, showed no sign of slowing down or anything, and now here, with our connection, it continues to restart.
is not possible, this dude is too old for anything other than work evil.
I want a new computer NOW.
or explode, I swear I explode.
It is not humanly possible.
jalopy This worked for a month in the hole of the village, showed no sign of slowing down or anything, and now here, with our connection, it continues to restart.
is not possible, this dude is too old for anything other than work evil.
I want a new computer NOW.
or explode, I swear I explode.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Gray Suit For Ring Bearer
Happyness
As the title suggests, I'm happy.
Despite being in a shitty little town, although there must remain until 22, I'm happy.
I made one of the most important things, I even cried. And I owe it all to a certain Roleplayer.
Damn woman, you made me the greatest gift I could imagine.
Kiitos, Su-san. \u0026lt;3
As the title suggests, I'm happy.
Despite being in a shitty little town, although there must remain until 22, I'm happy.
I made one of the most important things, I even cried. And I owe it all to a certain Roleplayer.
Damn woman, you made me the greatest gift I could imagine.
Kiitos, Su-san. \u0026lt;3
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Age Of Empire 2.0a No Cd
Airplanes #2
Ho parlato con Sascha, e tutti i dubbi, le lacrime e le frustrazioni che avevo riversato su Sugar, quella notte alla Village, sembrano andate via.
Aspetto il fine settimana per vedere cosa accadrà, e dopo il fine settimana, il giorno in cui I'll talk about the truly open-heart surgery.
It 's like if you do not even render account of what he says, how he treats me. He is no exaggeration to point
I do not care if it is with others, I will, expect, to be treated differently. If not where he is struggling to feed all that love in words?
I hate people who get angry and yell. They remind me of my father in his endless quarrels with my mother, the constant punishment when I did something wrong. Or when I said something wrong.
I am convinced that my sensitivity is also from this. As soon as I hear someone screaming I can not do just close your eyes, cover my ears, begin to cry. Because I do not want to hear those people screaming, swearing that you vomit on him.
Where is written that we can not educate without screaming and beating? Monkey
are shocked when I say it's a right way to educate and we educate his children without problems. In those moments my heart was crying, I gotta catch heavily to not cry at first. I would do anything not to give life to someone else what it was hell for me, from what I have always wanted to run away and then when I ran away.
If he really did it, with its I mean children, I shall become the aunt who comforts that make you laugh, which rendered in different ways.
's why I find myself screaming hurt by Sascha. Because his exaggerations scare me. I can not waste time ... If in future we married and he treated in this way my children, I escaped. Not be approached again. All
describe me as pretty . Not because I am very pretty, absolutely, but the calm and grace with which I speak. With the low tone that distinguishes a conversation with an adult Ineco than cheerful and happy that I use with those who know me always, and my friends. How much time I wasted
to learn that the grace and calm ... that "do not get anything from scratch", that tone that challenges the caller to say what he wants, because I'll always be a considered response and class.
Days and days locked in my solitude, to reason with myself, learning to observe everything, to find out the minimal differences everywhere.
With a smile as I remember: Alessio. That day at school, fourth year, few people in class, probably because of a strike, which came out in the discourse parents.
In her comment that made me raise my head, "After the fifth I leave the house, that my father ... "
I looked, he was sitting at my desk, the faces were 20 cm away, and do not know why everything I knew to say was" You too ... ?. He smiled, with his beautiful face and nodded. Then he lifted his shirt and showed me the sign on the side of "The handle of the broom," he said. "He joked," I replied, because in my comparison was a complaint by girl "No, but it is not always the case, only went there heavy." You would have believed him? I saw sincerity in his eyes. I saw the love that forgives all. "He never did, it's just happened, did not even want." I kept looking at him and then I snapped. We were in class five more prof. Ferrara, all have heard me because I started screaming, that was one of my crisis. Then the professor got up, took my hands, looked at me, hugged me and said "Claire, Claire, we love you, calm down."
This scene does not remember any of this. I only remember what the prof and Alessio. Maybe Michael next to me, that day. Alex's eyes, his hand on his shoulder.
E 'was born there, the respect we have for one another, pictures from time to time, the exchange of the issues, the discussions "hear you because I respect you but I will never share, glances every morning, every now and then kiss.
But it's always been enough to know that was there, someone who understood all along the line what I meant.
I never told anyone why? and what? on Alessio. Now everything is easier. Can we pretend
Ho parlato con Sascha, e tutti i dubbi, le lacrime e le frustrazioni che avevo riversato su Sugar, quella notte alla Village, sembrano andate via.
Aspetto il fine settimana per vedere cosa accadrà, e dopo il fine settimana, il giorno in cui I'll talk about the truly open-heart surgery.
It 's like if you do not even render account of what he says, how he treats me. He is no exaggeration to point
I do not care if it is with others, I will, expect, to be treated differently. If not where he is struggling to feed all that love in words?
I hate people who get angry and yell. They remind me of my father in his endless quarrels with my mother, the constant punishment when I did something wrong. Or when I said something wrong.
I am convinced that my sensitivity is also from this. As soon as I hear someone screaming I can not do just close your eyes, cover my ears, begin to cry. Because I do not want to hear those people screaming, swearing that you vomit on him.
Where is written that we can not educate without screaming and beating? Monkey
are shocked when I say it's a right way to educate and we educate his children without problems. In those moments my heart was crying, I gotta catch heavily to not cry at first. I would do anything not to give life to someone else what it was hell for me, from what I have always wanted to run away and then when I ran away.
If he really did it, with its I mean children, I shall become the aunt who comforts that make you laugh, which rendered in different ways.
's why I find myself screaming hurt by Sascha. Because his exaggerations scare me. I can not waste time ... If in future we married and he treated in this way my children, I escaped. Not be approached again. All
describe me as pretty . Not because I am very pretty, absolutely, but the calm and grace with which I speak. With the low tone that distinguishes a conversation with an adult Ineco than cheerful and happy that I use with those who know me always, and my friends. How much time I wasted
to learn that the grace and calm ... that "do not get anything from scratch", that tone that challenges the caller to say what he wants, because I'll always be a considered response and class.
Days and days locked in my solitude, to reason with myself, learning to observe everything, to find out the minimal differences everywhere.
With a smile as I remember: Alessio. That day at school, fourth year, few people in class, probably because of a strike, which came out in the discourse parents.
In her comment that made me raise my head, "After the fifth I leave the house, that my father ... "
I looked, he was sitting at my desk, the faces were 20 cm away, and do not know why everything I knew to say was" You too ... ?. He smiled, with his beautiful face and nodded. Then he lifted his shirt and showed me the sign on the side of "The handle of the broom," he said. "He joked," I replied, because in my comparison was a complaint by girl "No, but it is not always the case, only went there heavy." You would have believed him? I saw sincerity in his eyes. I saw the love that forgives all. "He never did, it's just happened, did not even want." I kept looking at him and then I snapped. We were in class five more prof. Ferrara, all have heard me because I started screaming, that was one of my crisis. Then the professor got up, took my hands, looked at me, hugged me and said "Claire, Claire, we love you, calm down."
This scene does not remember any of this. I only remember what the prof and Alessio. Maybe Michael next to me, that day. Alex's eyes, his hand on his shoulder.
E 'was born there, the respect we have for one another, pictures from time to time, the exchange of the issues, the discussions "hear you because I respect you but I will never share, glances every morning, every now and then kiss.
But it's always been enough to know that was there, someone who understood all along the line what I meant.
I never told anyone why? and what? on Alessio. Now everything is easier. Can we pretend
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Cost Of Espadrilles In Barcelona
Even the sheets carried the smell of gunpowder [Pirate! Arthur centric]
Title of chapter: And also sheets carried the smell of gunpowder.
Characters: Arthur Kirkland
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES Introspective / Angst
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. And even the sheets carried the smell of gunpowder.
No, could not classify it as a stink. Because there was nothing unpleasant, at least on his part, was a strong and persistent smell, which could make him feel happy and proud. The only problem is that, over time, was penetrated in the plots of clothes, the wood of the ship, even in the paper nautical charts.
A smell of salt air, blood and gunpowder, who accompanied Captain Arthur Kirkland and his crew every second of their lives. You might say worrying, but Arthur did. Inegrante made him feel part of the sea, its life, its people. The ears were instead
pervarse by the roar of cannons, from the pop guns and dry by the sound of swords drawn against enemies attacking the ship returned to her mind as frames, each moment of glory was imprinted in his heart as a brand to focus on of a slave. Everything so
imposing, impressive on the ship that seemed to want to conquer the seas, preventing thanks to men like no other that Spain take dominion over the world, all so brittle . Ages that pass, interests and changing clothes should be rotting in a closet or, worse, to be complicit in an attic of memory and the fading glory of an era that had no place in the world.
entered the cabin full of tools, charts and may lead to the end of the world , clothes, swords and trophies of the battles where he was always the first to jump on the deck of the ship. He smiled, letting his hat decorated with feathers softly ended on a trunk, slipped his jacket on the floor with a rustle, raising a little dust, the sword rang just after Arthur stuck in the globe, like the worst hardened captains and pirates. The body of English
dropped on soft sheets, the thoughts were absorbed by the weave of the fabric and the eyes were closed all'arrivare sleep.
Dream, Arthur.
The wood under your feet, the sparks of clashing swords, the sound of the shell destroyed the power of the guns, the shouts to his men, the smell of blood that is imprinted on your skin! The glory that wraps like a cloak, knowledge of be useful to the queen and your country, the love of your own men! The
glory that never come back again. Aseptic guns, a corrosive climate of hatred and frightening.
No more rolling of ships, no more salt, no more blood on the wood.
risk death because of the edge of a sword is perhaps less noble than the risk in a dark and earthy trench? Without
kiss from the sun again, Captain Arthur Kirkland. Leaves an imprint on this earth, let this period be remembered as the golden era from the harness! Let the memories will not disappear from the men killed for honor, men whose bodies were never at home!
And then, when the sword is rusty, let it fall.
Tling.
Title of chapter: And also sheets carried the smell of gunpowder.
Characters: Arthur Kirkland
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES Introspective / Angst
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. And even the sheets carried the smell of gunpowder.
No, could not classify it as a stink. Because there was nothing unpleasant, at least on his part, was a strong and persistent smell, which could make him feel happy and proud. The only problem is that, over time, was penetrated in the plots of clothes, the wood of the ship, even in the paper nautical charts.
A smell of salt air, blood and gunpowder, who accompanied Captain Arthur Kirkland and his crew every second of their lives. You might say worrying, but Arthur did. Inegrante made him feel part of the sea, its life, its people. The ears were instead
pervarse by the roar of cannons, from the pop guns and dry by the sound of swords drawn against enemies attacking the ship returned to her mind as frames, each moment of glory was imprinted in his heart as a brand to focus on of a slave. Everything so
imposing, impressive on the ship that seemed to want to conquer the seas, preventing thanks to men like no other that Spain take dominion over the world, all so brittle . Ages that pass, interests and changing clothes should be rotting in a closet or, worse, to be complicit in an attic of memory and the fading glory of an era that had no place in the world.
entered the cabin full of tools, charts and may lead to the end of the world , clothes, swords and trophies of the battles where he was always the first to jump on the deck of the ship. He smiled, letting his hat decorated with feathers softly ended on a trunk, slipped his jacket on the floor with a rustle, raising a little dust, the sword rang just after Arthur stuck in the globe, like the worst hardened captains and pirates. The body of English
dropped on soft sheets, the thoughts were absorbed by the weave of the fabric and the eyes were closed all'arrivare sleep.
Dream, Arthur.
The wood under your feet, the sparks of clashing swords, the sound of the shell destroyed the power of the guns, the shouts to his men, the smell of blood that is imprinted on your skin! The glory that wraps like a cloak, knowledge of be useful to the queen and your country, the love of your own men! The
glory that never come back again. Aseptic guns, a corrosive climate of hatred and frightening.
No more rolling of ships, no more salt, no more blood on the wood.
risk death because of the edge of a sword is perhaps less noble than the risk in a dark and earthy trench? Without
kiss from the sun again, Captain Arthur Kirkland. Leaves an imprint on this earth, let this period be remembered as the golden era from the harness! Let the memories will not disappear from the men killed for honor, men whose bodies were never at home!
And then, when the sword is rusty, let it fall.
Tling.
. Finish.
I am very proud of this history, it will be because I was fomented ° _ °
However, it is dedicated to my senpai Edward, with love. \u0026lt;3
However, it is dedicated to my senpai Edward, with love. \u0026lt;3
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Yellow Unitard For Sale
chastes Most que il est de nous tous profanons-AyanamixLabrador-
Title: The est de Most chastes profanons que nous tous.
Rating: Orange
Genre: Introspective /
Angst Warnings: Yaoi / One-shot
Characters / Pairing: Labrador Ayanami, Castor / Ayanami x Labrador Castor + Labrador
FOOTNOTES The title is loosely taken from a poem of Charles Baudelaire's youth, the translation would be: We all profane word caste.
The hours before dawn are surely the more smoky the whole night. The world goes down a curtain of cold silence, the sun shyly begins to shed its rays are cut off from the sky is still covered by the cloak of night.
are cold, those hours, people who sleep in the beds is curled up between the sheets in search of warmth that those hours of death seem to suck. The right time to allow evil to enter into what is pure, in what at the moment can not defend themselves because frozen in its beauty obscene.
Labrador had a nasty tendency to sleep a little during the night. Perhaps because he was too busy looking forward , too lost in thought for even one second to look after sleep, in vain, tried to woo her with flattery. Most likely those sweet hours of solitude were necessary-except then be scolded by Castor to sleep as soon as they pecked-out; usually all ended with her falling asleep, finally, just when the sun rose.
And that night they were taking different characters from the previous ones, will soon be dropped in the garden, he would fall asleep under the tree, it would have been scolded by Castor and business as usual. A sigh, he was snatched in front of quell'abitudinarietà so cruel, he could not but be pleased at the bottom of something else would mean war, but the fact remained that it was boring at times.
A gust of wind stronger than the others lifted him from the meditations. He had seen something move in the room, furtive and silent as a shadow as the wind itself. But there was nothing to the window, only the huge white curtains fluttering in the wind chill.
semblance of calm that was broken by a sigh that shattered against the ear of the prophet as the waves on the rocks infragono. I immediately recognized the scent he carried with him: the scent of cemeteries, chrysanthemums stained with blood.
A shudder ran through the back, as if he had something under the skin was a sickening feeling as the fingers began to play with her hair.
"At last we meet again, Profe."
Ayanami. It was like playing with a snake, having to do with him. In every moment always the possibility to rebel and attack you from anywhere he wants, then inject poison to make you submissive. Or kill you.
and Labrador felt for a moment, all those feelings. His breath, his fingers, the warmth of his body. Everything about him recalled something treacherous, almost immortal, and awesome. He had a violent jerk forward, so that the chair was overturned on the ground with a crash. He did not bother to wake the others, indeed, if it occurred Castor might have been better.
His eyes, while staring at the tall figure and cruel, had lost all traces of the mask he was wearing usually good-natured, were harsh, stern, old. The muscles tense, ready for any effort just to save his life. Yet his gaze abruptly changed: a closer look there was nobody in front of him, only the darkness that enveloped the dark corners of the room. He swallowed, relaxes the muscles of the arms, that it was just a feeling? Or worse ... a premonition?
He was able to confirm this very soon, yes, because those hands that had previously only imagined clung to his life as strongly as tongs and cold as well. The long, cruel fingers left no way out, the body of Labrador was brought against her without having the possibility to rebel. He was all happening too fast, had made the mistake of relaxation. He was the sin of pride, he thought it was just a play of his imagination.
The anxiety and terror in its most insidious, slowly took possession of his body and his mind. He had to defend himself, yes, but my muscles would not obey his command. The vocal cords were not moving, did not want to give that cry that perhaps would have saved. He could not call anyone, could not call Castor. It was simply trouble. They stayed
both properties for several seconds, during which Ayanami did nothing more than breath against his ear. He did it on purpose, most likely, and with each breath followed by a shiver Lab
finally found the courage to speak, if only to distract him from whatever it was he doing there.
"Verloren ... What did you do? "His voice, though weak, was firm and full of a considerable threat. He knew he was not able to kill him alone, but at least wanted to give the illusion can do it. Paid no attention to the trickle of sweat ran fast on the back, was not the time to show fear.
The only answer that was given was a cruel laugh, and the feeling of a face pressed against her hair. He heard the man behind him their breath odor, felt her hands move so as to make it run, so he could be one hundred percent sure that it was just Ayanami. His eyes, in those hours, he was sharp as a handful of pins, seemed to probe the soul and tear it to shreds shred. She gave him sick. A grin
cut her face, like a wound procured by a sharp sword, the words that came from those lips were thin, perhaps, the worst that Labrador had ever heard.
"I came to taste, Profe."
There was only one thing that, according to Labrador, Ayanami could want from him. He began to think possible ways to escape, to which weapon to use at least reduce it to impotence, but something prevented him from doing anything else. Those cruel lips were laid on his neck, had discovered that the teeth were embedded in the meat tender and white. Like a snake, he was savoring the prey before the meal, he could feel the tongue dart on the skin, could suppress the wave of disgust that's mounted inside. But what he was trying to do? Play?
He tried to push him away with one hand, and he succeeded; Ayanami took along a trickle of blood from his chin dirty quell'antipasto terrible. It was pretty gruesome image, like a horror book focuses on vampires.
pity that usually being bitten was a beautiful virgin, and not a Ghost.
The blood flowed in ever smaller, the bite, but the pain still remained. It was not a pleasant feeling, but what followed was even worse. He could not feel the movement, Labrador, the only thing I could understand was found lying on his bed, immersed in the sheets that were almost untouched, with the man straight to his face.
Their eyes were too close, the danger itself was too close.
meant something, any kind of thing that would be able to send away and it disappears. He tried to drive his own power, but a rapid movement she stopped him; Ayanami had narrow wrists, so hard to break.
'... Verloren, stop it. "
words clearly unnecessary, the of Ayanami mouth opened wide, or better, the cold, cruel lips came to rest on those with too much vehemence of Labrador, making it sound like the kiss a bit. It was an unacceptable situation, that gesture was not to happen, especially between the two of them. But how?
Labrador felt, little by little, more and more dirty. Every second that passed under his body and under the pressure of the lips and equivalent to a thousand more years under the auspices of Hell, the destruction of his soul a hundred times. An experience that I would not want anyone, an experience that was scoring more than necessary.
Then, the overwhelming presence was replaced in the fresh evening air. Like it was a mistake on a drawing, wiped away by a rubber ... glasses?!
"Labrador, all right?"
Oh, that voice would be recognized as one of the dozens and dozens, even that touch, those arms, those lips that you took away every bit of darkness that until then had tried to overcome it and make it their own.
was in the arms of Castor, was to save him.
A little 'like a fairy tale, too bad that the fine words of the book had been desecrated and polluted a bit' too much. Almost to obscure part of the story.
This story has cost me BLOOD. . _.
Title: The est de Most chastes profanons que nous tous.
Rating: Orange
Genre: Introspective /
Angst Warnings: Yaoi / One-shot
Characters / Pairing: Labrador Ayanami, Castor / Ayanami x Labrador Castor + Labrador
FOOTNOTES The title is loosely taken from a poem of Charles Baudelaire's youth, the translation would be: We all profane word caste.
. Il est de Most chastes profanons que nous tous.
The hours before dawn are surely the more smoky the whole night. The world goes down a curtain of cold silence, the sun shyly begins to shed its rays are cut off from the sky is still covered by the cloak of night.
are cold, those hours, people who sleep in the beds is curled up between the sheets in search of warmth that those hours of death seem to suck. The right time to allow evil to enter into what is pure, in what at the moment can not defend themselves because frozen in its beauty obscene.
Labrador had a nasty tendency to sleep a little during the night. Perhaps because he was too busy looking forward , too lost in thought for even one second to look after sleep, in vain, tried to woo her with flattery. Most likely those sweet hours of solitude were necessary-except then be scolded by Castor to sleep as soon as they pecked-out; usually all ended with her falling asleep, finally, just when the sun rose.
And that night they were taking different characters from the previous ones, will soon be dropped in the garden, he would fall asleep under the tree, it would have been scolded by Castor and business as usual. A sigh, he was snatched in front of quell'abitudinarietà so cruel, he could not but be pleased at the bottom of something else would mean war, but the fact remained that it was boring at times.
A gust of wind stronger than the others lifted him from the meditations. He had seen something move in the room, furtive and silent as a shadow as the wind itself. But there was nothing to the window, only the huge white curtains fluttering in the wind chill.
semblance of calm that was broken by a sigh that shattered against the ear of the prophet as the waves on the rocks infragono. I immediately recognized the scent he carried with him: the scent of cemeteries, chrysanthemums stained with blood.
A shudder ran through the back, as if he had something under the skin was a sickening feeling as the fingers began to play with her hair.
"At last we meet again, Profe."
Ayanami. It was like playing with a snake, having to do with him. In every moment always the possibility to rebel and attack you from anywhere he wants, then inject poison to make you submissive. Or kill you.
and Labrador felt for a moment, all those feelings. His breath, his fingers, the warmth of his body. Everything about him recalled something treacherous, almost immortal, and awesome. He had a violent jerk forward, so that the chair was overturned on the ground with a crash. He did not bother to wake the others, indeed, if it occurred Castor might have been better.
His eyes, while staring at the tall figure and cruel, had lost all traces of the mask he was wearing usually good-natured, were harsh, stern, old. The muscles tense, ready for any effort just to save his life. Yet his gaze abruptly changed: a closer look there was nobody in front of him, only the darkness that enveloped the dark corners of the room. He swallowed, relaxes the muscles of the arms, that it was just a feeling? Or worse ... a premonition?
He was able to confirm this very soon, yes, because those hands that had previously only imagined clung to his life as strongly as tongs and cold as well. The long, cruel fingers left no way out, the body of Labrador was brought against her without having the possibility to rebel. He was all happening too fast, had made the mistake of relaxation. He was the sin of pride, he thought it was just a play of his imagination.
The anxiety and terror in its most insidious, slowly took possession of his body and his mind. He had to defend himself, yes, but my muscles would not obey his command. The vocal cords were not moving, did not want to give that cry that perhaps would have saved. He could not call anyone, could not call Castor. It was simply trouble. They stayed
both properties for several seconds, during which Ayanami did nothing more than breath against his ear. He did it on purpose, most likely, and with each breath followed by a shiver Lab
finally found the courage to speak, if only to distract him from whatever it was he doing there.
"Verloren ... What did you do? "His voice, though weak, was firm and full of a considerable threat. He knew he was not able to kill him alone, but at least wanted to give the illusion can do it. Paid no attention to the trickle of sweat ran fast on the back, was not the time to show fear.
The only answer that was given was a cruel laugh, and the feeling of a face pressed against her hair. He heard the man behind him their breath odor, felt her hands move so as to make it run, so he could be one hundred percent sure that it was just Ayanami. His eyes, in those hours, he was sharp as a handful of pins, seemed to probe the soul and tear it to shreds shred. She gave him sick. A grin
cut her face, like a wound procured by a sharp sword, the words that came from those lips were thin, perhaps, the worst that Labrador had ever heard.
"I came to taste, Profe."
There was only one thing that, according to Labrador, Ayanami could want from him. He began to think possible ways to escape, to which weapon to use at least reduce it to impotence, but something prevented him from doing anything else. Those cruel lips were laid on his neck, had discovered that the teeth were embedded in the meat tender and white. Like a snake, he was savoring the prey before the meal, he could feel the tongue dart on the skin, could suppress the wave of disgust that's mounted inside. But what he was trying to do? Play?
He tried to push him away with one hand, and he succeeded; Ayanami took along a trickle of blood from his chin dirty quell'antipasto terrible. It was pretty gruesome image, like a horror book focuses on vampires.
pity that usually being bitten was a beautiful virgin, and not a Ghost.
The blood flowed in ever smaller, the bite, but the pain still remained. It was not a pleasant feeling, but what followed was even worse. He could not feel the movement, Labrador, the only thing I could understand was found lying on his bed, immersed in the sheets that were almost untouched, with the man straight to his face.
Their eyes were too close, the danger itself was too close.
meant something, any kind of thing that would be able to send away and it disappears. He tried to drive his own power, but a rapid movement she stopped him; Ayanami had narrow wrists, so hard to break.
'... Verloren, stop it. "
words clearly unnecessary, the of Ayanami mouth opened wide, or better, the cold, cruel lips came to rest on those with too much vehemence of Labrador, making it sound like the kiss a bit. It was an unacceptable situation, that gesture was not to happen, especially between the two of them. But how?
Labrador felt, little by little, more and more dirty. Every second that passed under his body and under the pressure of the lips and equivalent to a thousand more years under the auspices of Hell, the destruction of his soul a hundred times. An experience that I would not want anyone, an experience that was scoring more than necessary.
Then, the overwhelming presence was replaced in the fresh evening air. Like it was a mistake on a drawing, wiped away by a rubber ... glasses?!
"Labrador, all right?"
Oh, that voice would be recognized as one of the dozens and dozens, even that touch, those arms, those lips that you took away every bit of darkness that until then had tried to overcome it and make it their own.
was in the arms of Castor, was to save him.
A little 'like a fairy tale, too bad that the fine words of the book had been desecrated and polluted a bit' too much. Almost to obscure part of the story.
. Finish.
This story has cost me BLOOD. . _.
Kates Playground Freee Mobile
Because each one of us has a part in his own heart of darkness.
do not know if the title suggests, I sincerely sbattoH, but I'm thinking of one thing.
And if ... go back to writing about D.Gray-Man?
Well, it fixed a stupid, taken this afternoon from a video by passatomi senpai.
I realized how much you love him, to what I hold to this manga. In fact I need to disconnect, it was becoming an obsession. Maybe
was the fault of the Lavi's face. I've seen, this was enough to give me a kind of kick in the ass and shout at me: Mitsu, you're crazy?!
I want to write about Lavi, and my Tyki Mikk.
At that time not enough er mature as a writer to understand how these two were complex.
Now I understand.
Now I want to return.
Without losing sight of my new loves. No, I could never. \u0026lt;3
do not know if the title suggests, I sincerely sbattoH, but I'm thinking of one thing.
And if ... go back to writing about D.Gray-Man?
Well, it fixed a stupid, taken this afternoon from a video by passatomi senpai.
I realized how much you love him, to what I hold to this manga. In fact I need to disconnect, it was becoming an obsession. Maybe
was the fault of the Lavi's face. I've seen, this was enough to give me a kind of kick in the ass and shout at me: Mitsu, you're crazy?!
I want to write about Lavi, and my Tyki Mikk.
At that time not enough er mature as a writer to understand how these two were complex.
Now I understand.
Now I want to return.
Without losing sight of my new loves. No, I could never. \u0026lt;3
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Incubation Period For Impetigo
Hymne à la beauté - MikagexTeito -
Category: Ghost 07
Rating: 16 +
Characters: Mikage, Teito Klein
Genre: Angst, Drama, Introspective
Notes: Flashfiction, Shonen-ai
was a very light, very strong. Almost blinding, and all made from pure white; happened to be the signal? Case had to go away from that world?
not that sorry, just that doing so could save the people around him. Ayanami would stop hurting them using his body as a means, to hurt a. ..
"Mikage! Mikage! "
That voice would have been able to recognize among a thousand others. It was the voice of his Teito! He was glad to hear it again, despite was soiled with a desperation that Mikage was sure, would not have abandoned for a long, long time.
Although his eyes were dazzled by the light so strong, Mikage also saw his friend running in his direction. His eyes were so intense at that moment, the opposite of when he had just met, the opposite of when they were together at the academy.
He opened his arms embracing the little body that he loved so much against his own. Was fading, dying, he felt. But it was sad, he carried in his heart just one big regret. But not to the family, or to the army to Teito same. Why
was unable to say aloud the two words that weighed on my heart for years, because he was not able to be a real man until the end. It had been written on the wall of the church, on the floors of the hallway, and he hoped that those bishops took him so good to read. He was not sure of being able to reincarnate, he was not sure I can remain physically close to Teito. He had to know, by golly!
Forgive Teito, for not being able, either then or now to confess my love.
~
"Mikageeee! Come on, leave me alone, I sleep, "
No way, another reached the nose of cushion Teito that practically dominated the heat, he lay on his bed in the vain hope of getting to sleep at four in the afternoon. Too bad we can not succeed, given the disturbing presence of Mikage, to avoid boredom had come to take a pillow.
"Teito Come on, if you sleep now and then I'm bored!"
And as he always did, recently, he climbed on the bed with the pillow of his hand. It was almost dangerous that view, but having your legs locked Teito could not help but suffer.
Or maybe not.
"Mikage!"
A low growl, and here's hands leapt to Teito Mikage, seized the bust-and-pillow-maybe that was launched from across the room almost immediately. " Gasped with the effort, he gasped directly against the lips of Mikage.
"Here. Now let me sleep. "Mikage
remained motionless in that position, the ears gradually tending toward magenta. The heart seemed to love him break out, those two words seemed to love him out by force from his lips. They were
months, now that he realized Teito to love. He loved his every gesture, every word, loved his eyes, he loved more than anything else her smile.
But he never found the courage to confess, probably the one to break Teito a friendship that was able to save his life. He
a smile, kissed his lips and went down to die faster than they had risen.
No, there never would have done.
~
That memory, occurred so unexpected, left him dumbfounded and shocked, almost. He had forgotten about that episode, what was near to tell him everything.
He wanted to do it now, but there was no time. They were calling him, had waited too long. It was time to go.
shook one last time the body of his Teito, which continued to call it desperate.
"Mikage! Mikageeee! "
Mikage And smiled, breathing in his scent one last time and impress upon her voice. A really nice last memory, without a doubt.
I love you, Teito.
And everything fell into the light.
Category: Ghost 07
Rating: 16 +
Characters: Mikage, Teito Klein
Genre: Angst, Drama, Introspective
Notes: Flashfiction, Shonen-ai
. Hymne à la beauté.
was a very light, very strong. Almost blinding, and all made from pure white; happened to be the signal? Case had to go away from that world?
not that sorry, just that doing so could save the people around him. Ayanami would stop hurting them using his body as a means, to hurt a. ..
"Mikage! Mikage! "
That voice would have been able to recognize among a thousand others. It was the voice of his Teito! He was glad to hear it again, despite was soiled with a desperation that Mikage was sure, would not have abandoned for a long, long time.
Although his eyes were dazzled by the light so strong, Mikage also saw his friend running in his direction. His eyes were so intense at that moment, the opposite of when he had just met, the opposite of when they were together at the academy.
He opened his arms embracing the little body that he loved so much against his own. Was fading, dying, he felt. But it was sad, he carried in his heart just one big regret. But not to the family, or to the army to Teito same. Why
was unable to say aloud the two words that weighed on my heart for years, because he was not able to be a real man until the end. It had been written on the wall of the church, on the floors of the hallway, and he hoped that those bishops took him so good to read. He was not sure of being able to reincarnate, he was not sure I can remain physically close to Teito. He had to know, by golly!
Forgive Teito, for not being able, either then or now to confess my love.
~
"Mikageeee! Come on, leave me alone, I sleep, "
No way, another reached the nose of cushion Teito that practically dominated the heat, he lay on his bed in the vain hope of getting to sleep at four in the afternoon. Too bad we can not succeed, given the disturbing presence of Mikage, to avoid boredom had come to take a pillow.
"Teito Come on, if you sleep now and then I'm bored!"
And as he always did, recently, he climbed on the bed with the pillow of his hand. It was almost dangerous that view, but having your legs locked Teito could not help but suffer.
Or maybe not.
"Mikage!"
A low growl, and here's hands leapt to Teito Mikage, seized the bust-and-pillow-maybe that was launched from across the room almost immediately. " Gasped with the effort, he gasped directly against the lips of Mikage.
"Here. Now let me sleep. "Mikage
remained motionless in that position, the ears gradually tending toward magenta. The heart seemed to love him break out, those two words seemed to love him out by force from his lips. They were
months, now that he realized Teito to love. He loved his every gesture, every word, loved his eyes, he loved more than anything else her smile.
But he never found the courage to confess, probably the one to break Teito a friendship that was able to save his life. He
a smile, kissed his lips and went down to die faster than they had risen.
No, there never would have done.
~
That memory, occurred so unexpected, left him dumbfounded and shocked, almost. He had forgotten about that episode, what was near to tell him everything.
He wanted to do it now, but there was no time. They were calling him, had waited too long. It was time to go.
shook one last time the body of his Teito, which continued to call it desperate.
"Mikage! Mikageeee! "
Mikage And smiled, breathing in his scent one last time and impress upon her voice. A really nice last memory, without a doubt.
I love you, Teito.
And everything fell into the light.
. Finish.
O * O * My first fic on Mikage, chebbelllo ç / / ç \u0026lt;3
Since the post is free, I'll say what I want, right? To me this is a
Mikage IC. For me, eh.
Then do what you like, but any offensive comments will not relate to the story deleted and will not answer.
Since the post is free, I'll say what I want, right? To me this is a
Mikage IC. For me, eh.
Then do what you like, but any offensive comments will not relate to the story deleted and will not answer.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Multiplication Chart 1 30
Airplanes
the airplanes in the night sky like shooting stars are
I Could really use a wish right
now wish wish right now right now ...
Then there are those moments when you would not want to think about anything. In which nothing should be. In which questions should be avoided with ease, as if they had never been asked.
E 'that I can not not think about not express myself, not to look at everything with objectivity.
Extreme, clinical Epulon. The feelings out, only room for reason. It 'annoying in a hallucinatory way.
're close to those who want, all without exception. Still missing. Something, those details that would make it even more perfect. But
than would be needed to shooting stars? Not even the sky Dubai sarebe enough.
What then, more perfect. It can be said? Objectively because the word "perfect" expresses a beautiful and comprehensive concept on its own. So you can actually have something better?
I wrote this intervention on the night between eleven and twelve. Now is the night of the nineteenth and the twentieth and correct it. More than anything I add.
go over it and I can not find, remember, reason, or rather, the subject understood why I wrote it.
then play back the song and feel why. But remember to properly do not talk.
Mind absurd. I should stop writing all these people leaving implied. But at the same time I can not do without, it's like my mind goes.
Yes, because when I read in a long time, I realize that what I wrote, which seemed so beautiful, in reality is pure rambling. I can not understand why I wrote it that way, because at that very moment what I wrote seemed to make sense. Often find it absurd, written by beta you feed lilyj and everyone knows the legend of lilyj frankness. She would not comment on, or worships or destroyed.
Somebody take me back to the days
Before this was a job
Before I got paid
Before it ever mattered what I had in my bank
Yeah back when I was tryin' to get a tip at Subway
And back when I was rappin' for the hell of it
But now days we rappin' to stay relevant
I'm guessin' that if we can make some wishes out of airplanes
Then maybe oh maybe I'll go back to the days
Before the politics that we call the rap game
And back when ain't nobody listened to my mix tapes
And back before I tried to cover up my slate
But this is for Decatur
What's up Bobby Ray?
So can I get a wish to end the politics
And get back to the music That started this shit
So here I stand And then again I say
I'm hopin 'we can Make Some wishes outta airplanes
I'm going to mention it all to end, how can I not? I'm hoping that we can express wishes with aircraft ...
Why use them much, because the song is sad. Why did you hit and sunk.
I can not really tell if the feeling is given by the voice of Hayley Williams or the words of the song. This woman has a voice so beautiful and varied ... treble and bass without any problems. Not that this
I can not do but no one ... I his bass is deep, shake you. You see, if Michelle Lea sang this song, lasciarebbe back everything. Because his voice is high and also in the bass and treble. Maybe that's why its so much patner sings in falsetto, or at least on a scale higher than normal. Or maybe it's because I
HW closed in a box called "rock-punk-stuff-that-short-breaks-no-musicals." To say that I did not recognize at the time.
I turned on the TV and the video begins, the titles already gone. Love the song I had to turn on the PC.
Entry into facebook I realize that Dani has already posted, then comment and not the place firsthand. I knew the voice of the singer, I had associated with "I caught myself, and then the hair .. but I was not sure. In short, HW in a duet? So I Googled and it was her.
I played only 3 times in a row, and then was banned because of a German without a heart who does not know what the feelings are. So now listen with earphones. Also because they are 4:20.
We can pretend that the plane / in the night sky / stars are falling? / I could really make a wish now.
And I continue to listen to it over and over again.
Because of the time, the thoughts in Italian is completely well in English? I do not want tirarmela I know English, it is only natural. It seems that in Italian there are no words that can express the concept so well.
And because the left arm continues to hurt this way? As the legs, like all those times that I have the impression that the blood does not flow, which may stop before all the damn leg numb the pain. I'm afraid. Maybe it's just cholesterol. It 's normal waking up with all these pains in my bones? I want and I do the allergy tests, analysis ... But if it were something more serious?
The fear of being deprived of food again and filled with these looks painful it makes me stay away from all those surgeries. The fear of return to running after the food, to have those hunger pangs again absurd makes me run away.
There is a light there, in the bottom of all this mess, called Dr. Amendola. I remember sitting in the chair, legs crossed on the chair, which I have done very rarely, I remember it fondly, I remember with deep pain. I remember how I cried in the study of that bitch's Cottage I scolded severely by the fact that I had not lost weight, remember how I cried in my bed because could not come from Dr. Amendola. I remember he gave me his note, should you have continue the sessions with her. I remember that Dad asked me and his angry face, waiting for an answer. That was a yes, in the form of a no. The form of tears, again.
What they do not inform me, about the reopening of my medical records, is the fact that my come to know him. And this would destroy me because I would fight with their eyes, with uncomfortable questions and silences.
And if you could tell me that in reality there is nothing to cure? That is just selfishness what I will be able to want to be looked like a normal person and not the pretty girl and nice but unfortunately fat.
Too often lately I wanted to raise a phone to get a good chat. But there was a refusal to receive the courage to not receive attention when I desperately needed.
Maybe I did, but I always ended the call due to commitments. I remember when you told me "I can not tell what will happen, and how to conduct myself then, but now there are. Take it as it comes. "
Most likely then that it arrived.
and then back on my feet alone. Again. Can we pretend
the airplanes in the night sky like shooting stars are
I Could really use right now
a wish wish wish right now right now ...
the airplanes in the night sky like shooting stars are
I Could really use a wish right
now wish wish right now right now ...
Then there are those moments when you would not want to think about anything. In which nothing should be. In which questions should be avoided with ease, as if they had never been asked.
E 'that I can not not think about not express myself, not to look at everything with objectivity.
Extreme, clinical Epulon. The feelings out, only room for reason. It 'annoying in a hallucinatory way.
're close to those who want, all without exception. Still missing. Something, those details that would make it even more perfect. But
than would be needed to shooting stars? Not even the sky Dubai sarebe enough.
What then, more perfect. It can be said? Objectively because the word "perfect" expresses a beautiful and comprehensive concept on its own. So you can actually have something better?
I wrote this intervention on the night between eleven and twelve. Now is the night of the nineteenth and the twentieth and correct it. More than anything I add.
go over it and I can not find, remember, reason, or rather, the subject understood why I wrote it.
then play back the song and feel why. But remember to properly do not talk.
Mind absurd. I should stop writing all these people leaving implied. But at the same time I can not do without, it's like my mind goes.
Yes, because when I read in a long time, I realize that what I wrote, which seemed so beautiful, in reality is pure rambling. I can not understand why I wrote it that way, because at that very moment what I wrote seemed to make sense. Often find it absurd, written by beta you feed lilyj and everyone knows the legend of lilyj frankness. She would not comment on, or worships or destroyed.
Somebody take me back to the days
Before this was a job
Before I got paid
Before it ever mattered what I had in my bank
Yeah back when I was tryin' to get a tip at Subway
And back when I was rappin' for the hell of it
But now days we rappin' to stay relevant
I'm guessin' that if we can make some wishes out of airplanes
Then maybe oh maybe I'll go back to the days
Before the politics that we call the rap game
And back when ain't nobody listened to my mix tapes
And back before I tried to cover up my slate
But this is for Decatur
What's up Bobby Ray?
So can I get a wish to end the politics
And get back to the music That started this shit
So here I stand And then again I say
I'm hopin 'we can Make Some wishes outta airplanes
I'm going to mention it all to end, how can I not? I'm hoping that we can express wishes with aircraft ...
Why use them much, because the song is sad. Why did you hit and sunk.
I can not really tell if the feeling is given by the voice of Hayley Williams or the words of the song. This woman has a voice so beautiful and varied ... treble and bass without any problems. Not that this
I can not do but no one ... I his bass is deep, shake you. You see, if Michelle Lea sang this song, lasciarebbe back everything. Because his voice is high and also in the bass and treble. Maybe that's why its so much patner sings in falsetto, or at least on a scale higher than normal. Or maybe it's because I
HW closed in a box called "rock-punk-stuff-that-short-breaks-no-musicals." To say that I did not recognize at the time.
I turned on the TV and the video begins, the titles already gone. Love the song I had to turn on the PC.
Entry into facebook I realize that Dani has already posted, then comment and not the place firsthand. I knew the voice of the singer, I had associated with "I caught myself, and then the hair .. but I was not sure. In short, HW in a duet? So I Googled and it was her.
I played only 3 times in a row, and then was banned because of a German without a heart who does not know what the feelings are. So now listen with earphones. Also because they are 4:20.
We can pretend that the plane / in the night sky / stars are falling? / I could really make a wish now.
And I continue to listen to it over and over again.
Because of the time, the thoughts in Italian is completely well in English? I do not want tirarmela I know English, it is only natural. It seems that in Italian there are no words that can express the concept so well.
And because the left arm continues to hurt this way? As the legs, like all those times that I have the impression that the blood does not flow, which may stop before all the damn leg numb the pain. I'm afraid. Maybe it's just cholesterol. It 's normal waking up with all these pains in my bones? I want and I do the allergy tests, analysis ... But if it were something more serious?
The fear of being deprived of food again and filled with these looks painful it makes me stay away from all those surgeries. The fear of return to running after the food, to have those hunger pangs again absurd makes me run away.
There is a light there, in the bottom of all this mess, called Dr. Amendola. I remember sitting in the chair, legs crossed on the chair, which I have done very rarely, I remember it fondly, I remember with deep pain. I remember how I cried in the study of that bitch's Cottage I scolded severely by the fact that I had not lost weight, remember how I cried in my bed because could not come from Dr. Amendola. I remember he gave me his note, should you have continue the sessions with her. I remember that Dad asked me and his angry face, waiting for an answer. That was a yes, in the form of a no. The form of tears, again.
What they do not inform me, about the reopening of my medical records, is the fact that my come to know him. And this would destroy me because I would fight with their eyes, with uncomfortable questions and silences.
And if you could tell me that in reality there is nothing to cure? That is just selfishness what I will be able to want to be looked like a normal person and not the pretty girl and nice but unfortunately fat.
Too often lately I wanted to raise a phone to get a good chat. But there was a refusal to receive the courage to not receive attention when I desperately needed.
Maybe I did, but I always ended the call due to commitments. I remember when you told me "I can not tell what will happen, and how to conduct myself then, but now there are. Take it as it comes. "
Most likely then that it arrived.
and then back on my feet alone. Again. Can we pretend
the airplanes in the night sky like shooting stars are
I Could really use right now
a wish wish wish right now right now ...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Polaroid Impulse Yellow
Touches you
You think you're better
're Better Than Me
You blow me off as history
To Avoid conversation, you're ignoring me
Too much in one day.
Mika's concert, a show of the Plague and the birthday of Mark.
For peace in the family are going to last, though I did not want to, I could not wear the dress I wanted (because would be considered ridiculous by anyone), I could not wear the shirt I wanted because I put on weight again, which made me fall off a cliff.
I'm trying to eat better, which to me means a little better and a little better than not enough. Last July I had come to weigh, finally, after exhausting 72 kg (maybe) month of fasting, exercise and calorie counts. Two weeks in Italy I have enough to resume 6 kg and another 4 were added during the period when I let myself go, simply because I found someone who loved me for who I am, who I loved more than me itself. But the point is this: I do not like me. I want to lose weight, I want to be thin, I want to be a normal person, I will not be addidata, I do not want to look bad when I order at a restaurant, I do not want to be looked at as evil within a store, I do not want to be watched while I eat badly. I want to be able to walk to face higher, not caring what the rest says, because I'm perfect.
The fact that those who love me, I am already perfect, not comfort me much.
I do not like me there is nothing else to say.
do not have enough willpower to diet, which is why I find a warm and comforting refuge in fasting. Or better, even with the fasting, the situation is absurd because I can fast for two days (two really good days) but then have attacks of hunger that I just stop in front of a normal portion. And it's the same with the diet. I can follow advice and weights, but when I get an attack of hunger I eat. I can not help, I have to. The only solution at this moment is sleep. Why any other suggestions (including the ones Anam are fantastic even if I do not hold up) requires a force of will that I did not. Vanilla too easily, it breaks too easily. And the attack of hunger needs time to pass, and even when he is past and so easy to enjoy a snack and finish in an empty refrigerator.
sleep, fasting, ana, mia, are actually so dramatic and so beautiful that they ask you to give up everything else. You can not have them and someone else. Simply no. Because everyone around you is difficult to understand your needs and will accept, and agree to meet in a place where there is no food available, not comment on your own meals or let you sleep. No. Because I do is wrong and I realize, but it seems to me to keep things faster and easier to get out of my problems. Why
the rest can only comment and funny jokes that are not funny at all. And I laugh, Scherzer and we'll play the part that knows that you are fat and try to live with or who is slowly trying to get back to normal.
bother me, immensely, the meager who say they are fat. What I think is: Are you ever walked into a store and look for him because in all contracts that place is not there and there will never be anything about your size? No. Have you ever ordered a large portion because you're hungry, bed and disgust on the look of the waiter? No. Have you ever eaten with the eyes of people around you bet with huge crap on your plate? No. Have you ever been singled out or ridiculed for your body shape? No. SO DO NOT DARE TO SPEAK.
I tend not to judge, because there are none and I can not, but anyone who touches my sensitivity deserves to suffer. At least in my thoughts.
When You've Had Enough and you need somebody to know When you're looking tough
But you need a way to let it go
Come on now, what's a boy
Supposed To Do When I Can not Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
My concept of normality is difficult to explain. For me it is normal to the model is too thin, in spite of envy, I can (perhaps) to understand the disease being so thin. Similarly it is not normal for me to be too fat, but only to see happiness in the eyes of the fat person ... then the class changes and becomes normal. But if you plainly saw happiness in the eyes of the person too thin for me ... would not normally. Maybe because I know that to be so skinny you should remove from it all and I can not leave my friends. And perhaps returns to normal for me to be fat and happy because it is a category in which I fall But I can not fix myself into it.
I want to be your brother, want to be your father too
Never make you run for cover
Even If They Want us to
I want to be your sister,
want to be your mother I want to be too
want Whatever else be
That Touches You
Whatever else
Whatever That Touches You else That Touches You
Very often I find myself thinking that I need help, a real help, recognizable in a food psychologist, but at the same time I do such a step would put me in comparison to the problems themselves. Why should I talk about it. And I can not speak. I can not talk without crying, and crying in front of others destroys me.
Why are they so complicated? Maybe because I've always been alone? Because I never had many friends, because I never open to someone so much until I attended the final year of high school? Why I abandoned the study, reading? Why was I abandoned the computer in the distant friends (who are the only ones I have) and in the world of fantasy? I have no idea.
I know that talking and thinking, although everyone says I'm a chatterbox (of chatter, but not all grasp the difference), I started analyzing everything around me, asking me millions of questions and imagine all possible scenarios regarding the most diverse situations.
For fear of losing, losing your way
Just stop and listen to the Things That They Say To Avoid confrontation
You walk away
Tonight I started writing because I'm reading a story where there are secrets, too, that hurt. Actually true that hurt. Juvenile abuse, bullying, sexual abuse of peers. My feeling always ends up out of it destroyed because I am too sensitive, or anything else, for each noise and emotion.
I started writing because I was reminded of two summers ago and endless phone calls, and of course because I was going.
Growing up When I need to compromise
When I've Had Enough 20 years and I Realize
Come on now, what's a boy Supposed to do When I can not
Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
I have few friends, but they are good. Even if you do not feel for the dawn of time, always reveal the best in the world when I need something. Maybe they do not consider me a friend, but are important to me and I'd do anything for them.
There is one thing that I always wanted to talk about, is one of the most important people in my life, not only because it made me happy the male part of me, but because thanks to him I felt a happiness ; as few (this time not related to you). I have never spoken to him because he attended sincerely (-ava) this place. But what I did not speak, he made the LJ (assuming I want the clearest ever) an artifact, and I will not. I never spoke to him frankly why you attended, and I do not want to create problems. But I'm tired, and I must be relevant to myself. He will never get to read here at the end because you get bored in the third row. And 'well done, suits me, I love it. But she might read it. But who knows when. And who knows how to land if its ruminations without telling me.
Why I do what we understand in Monkey, but in reality, is one of two people I do not understand a shit. That leaves me in no doubt will, that does not ever answer, or maybe later. Maybe with acts that I will understand immediately (or ever). So you might as well speak of him, right?
Well, he was the person who made me feel like a woman. Maybe fooling around, but with his serious face, with his kisses on the neck with his hand constantly on my ass, made me feel attractive, and I was treated like all the other guys have always treated the other girls. Ways, words, attention, details that I have never been addressed. And then they made me feel alive. It made me feel appreciated as a girl, and that is normal way I want it near me, I want to send time with him, I want to continue to make YOU happy. Why are so perfect together that it hurts to watch.
is also irrelevant, annoying and selfish. It 's true. It is not a mask affibilità continues to be nice or pleasant at all, absolutely not. He is so direct in everything we think, feel and see and sente.Lui says it, does not care about anything, it made me laugh so true happiness and be proud of him even though I'm nobody and I know very little. I love him, I can not do anything. Broke through into my heart with his sharp words and glances. All right, because it's true.
I want to be your brother, want to be your father too
Never make you run for cover
Even If They Want us to
I want to be your sister,
want to be your mother I want to be too
want Whatever else be
That Touches You
When You've Had Enough
and you need somebody to know When you're looking tough
But You need a way to let it go
Come on now, what's Supposed to do a boy
But I can not Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
next Saturday before going out dancing with my friends, I'll go to another happy family gathering because it is the birthday of her grandmother. I do not want (especially to translate stupid things to Sascha, who will be the attraction of the evening), I can not wear the dress I want, wear what you definitely do not fall down as I want because I'm FAT.
You think you're better
're Better Than Me
You blow me off as history
To Avoid conversation, you're ignoring me
Too much in one day.
Mika's concert, a show of the Plague and the birthday of Mark.
For peace in the family are going to last, though I did not want to, I could not wear the dress I wanted (because would be considered ridiculous by anyone), I could not wear the shirt I wanted because I put on weight again, which made me fall off a cliff.
I'm trying to eat better, which to me means a little better and a little better than not enough. Last July I had come to weigh, finally, after exhausting 72 kg (maybe) month of fasting, exercise and calorie counts. Two weeks in Italy I have enough to resume 6 kg and another 4 were added during the period when I let myself go, simply because I found someone who loved me for who I am, who I loved more than me itself. But the point is this: I do not like me. I want to lose weight, I want to be thin, I want to be a normal person, I will not be addidata, I do not want to look bad when I order at a restaurant, I do not want to be looked at as evil within a store, I do not want to be watched while I eat badly. I want to be able to walk to face higher, not caring what the rest says, because I'm perfect.
The fact that those who love me, I am already perfect, not comfort me much.
I do not like me there is nothing else to say.
do not have enough willpower to diet, which is why I find a warm and comforting refuge in fasting. Or better, even with the fasting, the situation is absurd because I can fast for two days (two really good days) but then have attacks of hunger that I just stop in front of a normal portion. And it's the same with the diet. I can follow advice and weights, but when I get an attack of hunger I eat. I can not help, I have to. The only solution at this moment is sleep. Why any other suggestions (including the ones Anam are fantastic even if I do not hold up) requires a force of will that I did not. Vanilla too easily, it breaks too easily. And the attack of hunger needs time to pass, and even when he is past and so easy to enjoy a snack and finish in an empty refrigerator.
sleep, fasting, ana, mia, are actually so dramatic and so beautiful that they ask you to give up everything else. You can not have them and someone else. Simply no. Because everyone around you is difficult to understand your needs and will accept, and agree to meet in a place where there is no food available, not comment on your own meals or let you sleep. No. Because I do is wrong and I realize, but it seems to me to keep things faster and easier to get out of my problems. Why
the rest can only comment and funny jokes that are not funny at all. And I laugh, Scherzer and we'll play the part that knows that you are fat and try to live with or who is slowly trying to get back to normal.
bother me, immensely, the meager who say they are fat. What I think is: Are you ever walked into a store and look for him because in all contracts that place is not there and there will never be anything about your size? No. Have you ever ordered a large portion because you're hungry, bed and disgust on the look of the waiter? No. Have you ever eaten with the eyes of people around you bet with huge crap on your plate? No. Have you ever been singled out or ridiculed for your body shape? No. SO DO NOT DARE TO SPEAK.
I tend not to judge, because there are none and I can not, but anyone who touches my sensitivity deserves to suffer. At least in my thoughts.
When You've Had Enough and you need somebody to know When you're looking tough
But you need a way to let it go
Come on now, what's a boy
Supposed To Do When I Can not Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
My concept of normality is difficult to explain. For me it is normal to the model is too thin, in spite of envy, I can (perhaps) to understand the disease being so thin. Similarly it is not normal for me to be too fat, but only to see happiness in the eyes of the fat person ... then the class changes and becomes normal. But if you plainly saw happiness in the eyes of the person too thin for me ... would not normally. Maybe because I know that to be so skinny you should remove from it all and I can not leave my friends. And perhaps returns to normal for me to be fat and happy because it is a category in which I fall But I can not fix myself into it.
I want to be your brother, want to be your father too
Never make you run for cover
Even If They Want us to
I want to be your sister,
want to be your mother I want to be too
want Whatever else be
That Touches You
Whatever else
Whatever That Touches You else That Touches You
Very often I find myself thinking that I need help, a real help, recognizable in a food psychologist, but at the same time I do such a step would put me in comparison to the problems themselves. Why should I talk about it. And I can not speak. I can not talk without crying, and crying in front of others destroys me.
Why are they so complicated? Maybe because I've always been alone? Because I never had many friends, because I never open to someone so much until I attended the final year of high school? Why I abandoned the study, reading? Why was I abandoned the computer in the distant friends (who are the only ones I have) and in the world of fantasy? I have no idea.
I know that talking and thinking, although everyone says I'm a chatterbox (of chatter, but not all grasp the difference), I started analyzing everything around me, asking me millions of questions and imagine all possible scenarios regarding the most diverse situations.
For fear of losing, losing your way
Just stop and listen to the Things That They Say To Avoid confrontation
You walk away
Tonight I started writing because I'm reading a story where there are secrets, too, that hurt. Actually true that hurt. Juvenile abuse, bullying, sexual abuse of peers. My feeling always ends up out of it destroyed because I am too sensitive, or anything else, for each noise and emotion.
I started writing because I was reminded of two summers ago and endless phone calls, and of course because I was going.
Growing up When I need to compromise
When I've Had Enough 20 years and I Realize
Come on now, what's a boy Supposed to do When I can not
Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
I have few friends, but they are good. Even if you do not feel for the dawn of time, always reveal the best in the world when I need something. Maybe they do not consider me a friend, but are important to me and I'd do anything for them.
There is one thing that I always wanted to talk about, is one of the most important people in my life, not only because it made me happy the male part of me, but because thanks to him I felt a happiness ; as few (this time not related to you). I have never spoken to him because he attended sincerely (-ava) this place. But what I did not speak, he made the LJ (assuming I want the clearest ever) an artifact, and I will not. I never spoke to him frankly why you attended, and I do not want to create problems. But I'm tired, and I must be relevant to myself. He will never get to read here at the end because you get bored in the third row. And 'well done, suits me, I love it. But she might read it. But who knows when. And who knows how to land if its ruminations without telling me.
Why I do what we understand in Monkey, but in reality, is one of two people I do not understand a shit. That leaves me in no doubt will, that does not ever answer, or maybe later. Maybe with acts that I will understand immediately (or ever). So you might as well speak of him, right?
Well, he was the person who made me feel like a woman. Maybe fooling around, but with his serious face, with his kisses on the neck with his hand constantly on my ass, made me feel attractive, and I was treated like all the other guys have always treated the other girls. Ways, words, attention, details that I have never been addressed. And then they made me feel alive. It made me feel appreciated as a girl, and that is normal way I want it near me, I want to send time with him, I want to continue to make YOU happy. Why are so perfect together that it hurts to watch.
is also irrelevant, annoying and selfish. It 's true. It is not a mask affibilità continues to be nice or pleasant at all, absolutely not. He is so direct in everything we think, feel and see and sente.Lui says it, does not care about anything, it made me laugh so true happiness and be proud of him even though I'm nobody and I know very little. I love him, I can not do anything. Broke through into my heart with his sharp words and glances. All right, because it's true.
I want to be your brother, want to be your father too
Never make you run for cover
Even If They Want us to
I want to be your sister,
want to be your mother I want to be too
want Whatever else be
That Touches You
When You've Had Enough
and you need somebody to know When you're looking tough
But You need a way to let it go
Come on now, what's Supposed to do a boy
But I can not Seem To Leave You Alone
Touching me touching you
next Saturday before going out dancing with my friends, I'll go to another happy family gathering because it is the birthday of her grandmother. I do not want (especially to translate stupid things to Sascha, who will be the attraction of the evening), I can not wear the dress I want, wear what you definitely do not fall down as I want because I'm FAT.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Quo Cosmetics, Optical Illusion Foundation
Smoking is too hard [DenSu]
Title of chapter: Smoke is too hard
Characters: Berwald (Sweden) / Mathias (Denmark)
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Introspective
Disclaimer : characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
An ever increasing rate, a drum roll that does not want to stop before reaching the absolute final fast movements and dried, accompanied by puffs of different sounds and gradually more intense. Touches of hands, caresses of tongues and violent shocks of the basin. Love is a war, many say, and in fact the act that they were finishing up eating more like a battle for life or death that the union of two kindred souls.
Again and again, the bed creaked, the boards were about to break in two for the effort to hold all that heat that had nothing human. And then ... espolosione and then the white light, the pleasure through the body that does nothing but to die, so beautiful that it seems painful. It 's a moment, and then collapses the two figures on the sheets rumpled and dirty with something that is better not to tell. Breathe heavily, one above the other, with the smell of the skin that mix with those of sweat and sex. Perhaps the most beautiful moment, made up of silences and words mutilated.
It's nothing but a wisp of smoke, thin, stands up to the ceiling and then crashing against a barrier that can not and can not overcome. A few puffy largest, such as those of steam locomotives, followed by a sigh that disturbs the quiet that has only in the hours before dawn. A body resting against the cold wall, wrapped the least worst intensity in the sheets with another setting body, lying on the same bed, sleeping the sleep of the righteous. One who is concerned to be awake and Denmark, the other is Sweden.
It was an evening like so many from a little 'time to that part. Dinner, movies rented from peanuts ten minutes, and then sex. As if it were a routine, but that was more congenial to them. Denmark
thought. Think about what those nights brought with them the consequences of, perhaps, a more romantic o. .. or different, yes. It was not used to think, Mathias was done instinctively, but the presence of Berwald that so blindly trusted him enough to sleep led him to work in that brain atrophy.
Their relationship is a very, very strange. Can not stand, to tell the truth, if there was an opportunity to probably beaten up if neither would escape. Yet both know that life without the other, it would be tremendously boring and repetitive.
smiles, indeed, grins, remembering what had happened only a couple of hours earlier. Ber had proved more responsive than usual, almost more tender, and Denmark could not understand the real reason. Evidently he wanted, he said, so there was nothing too important to be adduced as a reason. Berwald
he liked, and now and then. Most likely he loved her, even though it has never been able to name their feelings, and he knew what he should do a person in love. It certainly will not get laid in the way he had done before, without a doubt. A Berwald would have liked the romantic things that every couple makes to each other?
"Pfui ..." He closed his eyes, letting the ideas invade. A bouquet of flowers? Trivial. A box of chocolates? Nah, then maybe you did not like. A ring? Too demanding. An "I love you"?
... The idea
almost upset him so much that he found himself to open my eyes suddenly. The smoke had invaded almost his entire field of view, the figure of Berwald flickered across it. And Mathias gave a subdued and nervous giggle. Berwald was the only thing that emanated from the "light", at that time. It quivered, almost ambiguous, as if about to go out.
As if to disappear. And it was a possibility that Den did not want to consider. Who would have lightened its path, otherwise?
Maybe ...
dissipated the smoke with one hand, stubbed out his cigarette against the wall and leaned against a Berwald shaking with a modicum at least of grace. "Ber, wake up, Ber, "
The Swede opened her eyes with the slow pace of a bear, full of sleep. "What do you ...?»
Den did not smile, not that time. Remained serious, a beautiful statue serious, and spoke the words that never in his life had uttered addressed to anyone. "I love you."
Never smoke had proved so difficult Den soon realized that his lips were pressing on her almost despair were those of Berwald.
Title of chapter: Smoke is too hard
Characters: Berwald (Sweden) / Mathias (Denmark)
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Introspective
Disclaimer : characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. Smoke is too hard.
An ever increasing rate, a drum roll that does not want to stop before reaching the absolute final fast movements and dried, accompanied by puffs of different sounds and gradually more intense. Touches of hands, caresses of tongues and violent shocks of the basin. Love is a war, many say, and in fact the act that they were finishing up eating more like a battle for life or death that the union of two kindred souls.
Again and again, the bed creaked, the boards were about to break in two for the effort to hold all that heat that had nothing human. And then ... espolosione and then the white light, the pleasure through the body that does nothing but to die, so beautiful that it seems painful. It 's a moment, and then collapses the two figures on the sheets rumpled and dirty with something that is better not to tell. Breathe heavily, one above the other, with the smell of the skin that mix with those of sweat and sex. Perhaps the most beautiful moment, made up of silences and words mutilated.
It's nothing but a wisp of smoke, thin, stands up to the ceiling and then crashing against a barrier that can not and can not overcome. A few puffy largest, such as those of steam locomotives, followed by a sigh that disturbs the quiet that has only in the hours before dawn. A body resting against the cold wall, wrapped the least worst intensity in the sheets with another setting body, lying on the same bed, sleeping the sleep of the righteous. One who is concerned to be awake and Denmark, the other is Sweden.
It was an evening like so many from a little 'time to that part. Dinner, movies rented from peanuts ten minutes, and then sex. As if it were a routine, but that was more congenial to them. Denmark
thought. Think about what those nights brought with them the consequences of, perhaps, a more romantic o. .. or different, yes. It was not used to think, Mathias was done instinctively, but the presence of Berwald that so blindly trusted him enough to sleep led him to work in that brain atrophy.
Their relationship is a very, very strange. Can not stand, to tell the truth, if there was an opportunity to probably beaten up if neither would escape. Yet both know that life without the other, it would be tremendously boring and repetitive.
smiles, indeed, grins, remembering what had happened only a couple of hours earlier. Ber had proved more responsive than usual, almost more tender, and Denmark could not understand the real reason. Evidently he wanted, he said, so there was nothing too important to be adduced as a reason. Berwald
he liked, and now and then. Most likely he loved her, even though it has never been able to name their feelings, and he knew what he should do a person in love. It certainly will not get laid in the way he had done before, without a doubt. A Berwald would have liked the romantic things that every couple makes to each other?
"Pfui ..." He closed his eyes, letting the ideas invade. A bouquet of flowers? Trivial. A box of chocolates? Nah, then maybe you did not like. A ring? Too demanding. An "I love you"?
... The idea
almost upset him so much that he found himself to open my eyes suddenly. The smoke had invaded almost his entire field of view, the figure of Berwald flickered across it. And Mathias gave a subdued and nervous giggle. Berwald was the only thing that emanated from the "light", at that time. It quivered, almost ambiguous, as if about to go out.
As if to disappear. And it was a possibility that Den did not want to consider. Who would have lightened its path, otherwise?
Maybe ...
dissipated the smoke with one hand, stubbed out his cigarette against the wall and leaned against a Berwald shaking with a modicum at least of grace. "Ber, wake up, Ber, "
The Swede opened her eyes with the slow pace of a bear, full of sleep. "What do you ...?»
Den did not smile, not that time. Remained serious, a beautiful statue serious, and spoke the words that never in his life had uttered addressed to anyone. "I love you."
Never smoke had proved so difficult Den soon realized that his lips were pressing on her almost despair were those of Berwald.
. Finish.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Bosch Dishwasher Spray Arms Not Moving
Snowing [RikuSora]
Title of chapter: Snowing
Characters: Sora / Riku
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES Flash - fic / Romance / AU / Shonen-ai
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Nomura Sensei, the writing and situations are my property.
Not a single sound could penetrate the thick armor of snow that night, fell like a thick curtain. The flakes rested silently on every inch of the free path, statues cold and hard and the trees that stand naked against the leaden sky.
This was the scenario that presented itself in the eyes of Sora, who had almost climbed on read too high to reach the window too much high just to admire the landscape despite being three in the morning.
blue eyes ranged across the hill on which the villa was located in Kairi, who had had the bright idea to invite them to spend the New Year at home. It had done very well, since the house was enormous and would have fun as hell. Plural, yes, because the room was not just Sora. There was also someone else.
"Riku, Riku, look out!" The
excited whisper reached the ears of well Sora Riku, who stepped down from her bed and walked, shivering from the cold-l 'to sleep with only not wearing underwear was certainly part of the brilliant ideas of the boy. " He had to admit that the scenery was breathtaking, but he admitted only to himself. Would never have the satisfaction to Sora, too amused him to see the expression that took the sulky face of his friend.
"Ah-ah, nice ... Yes .. "
The other puffed out his cheeks, as expected, beating a fist on his chest but found much more powerful than any body part of Sora, the latter only I get a chuckle from the object of his blows.
"Well I was joking. It 's very nice, but I know something that surpasses it. "
And then curiosity got the upper hand over every other feeling. Sora stood fast to his knees and pointed his very curious look on her face Riku. Dangling from his lips, literally.
"What, Riku? I also want to see him, "Rise
, the largest, reached out and put the index on the nose much smaller than Sora. "Let's see ... It has a small nose and mischievous, two soft cheeks and chubby, blue eyes, hair uncombed very e. .. "He paused, his face closer to Sora gradually increasing embarrassed. Few inches separated them, the space of a breath.
'... Two lips that I just want to kiss. "
said than done: the gap was filled quickly. The lips of strong Riku prepend vehemently on those softer and more delicate Sora, causing a slight displacement of the head. That kiss took my breath away both; were projected on a completely different and overlapping in the world where they were.
Despite the movements of both inexperienced, sometimes embarrassed as the two girls first kiss, his hands touched the body of the hesitant, timid. As if they were afraid it was all a dream that suddenly becomes realize that nothing of what they are doing is true. An investigation, an unknown heat which causes them to collapse on the bed without interrupting the contact for the world.
the end got the better of the lungs, had to come off-even if reluctantly. " At that exact moment they opened both eyes at the precise thing they read they could only know each other.
Silence fell, both still had the taste of your lips on the other language.
"R-Riku, I ..." Sora swallowed hard, threw his arms around his neck and smiled like a child who had just taste his favorite dessert. "I'll by another?"
The snow continued to fall like a curtain on that scene that the world should not see.
Title of chapter: Snowing
Characters: Sora / Riku
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES Flash - fic / Romance / AU / Shonen-ai
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Nomura Sensei, the writing and situations are my property.
. Snowing.
Not a single sound could penetrate the thick armor of snow that night, fell like a thick curtain. The flakes rested silently on every inch of the free path, statues cold and hard and the trees that stand naked against the leaden sky.
This was the scenario that presented itself in the eyes of Sora, who had almost climbed on read too high to reach the window too much high just to admire the landscape despite being three in the morning.
blue eyes ranged across the hill on which the villa was located in Kairi, who had had the bright idea to invite them to spend the New Year at home. It had done very well, since the house was enormous and would have fun as hell. Plural, yes, because the room was not just Sora. There was also someone else.
"Riku, Riku, look out!" The
excited whisper reached the ears of well Sora Riku, who stepped down from her bed and walked, shivering from the cold-l 'to sleep with only not wearing underwear was certainly part of the brilliant ideas of the boy. " He had to admit that the scenery was breathtaking, but he admitted only to himself. Would never have the satisfaction to Sora, too amused him to see the expression that took the sulky face of his friend.
"Ah-ah, nice ... Yes .. "
The other puffed out his cheeks, as expected, beating a fist on his chest but found much more powerful than any body part of Sora, the latter only I get a chuckle from the object of his blows.
"Well I was joking. It 's very nice, but I know something that surpasses it. "
And then curiosity got the upper hand over every other feeling. Sora stood fast to his knees and pointed his very curious look on her face Riku. Dangling from his lips, literally.
"What, Riku? I also want to see him, "Rise
, the largest, reached out and put the index on the nose much smaller than Sora. "Let's see ... It has a small nose and mischievous, two soft cheeks and chubby, blue eyes, hair uncombed very e. .. "He paused, his face closer to Sora gradually increasing embarrassed. Few inches separated them, the space of a breath.
'... Two lips that I just want to kiss. "
said than done: the gap was filled quickly. The lips of strong Riku prepend vehemently on those softer and more delicate Sora, causing a slight displacement of the head. That kiss took my breath away both; were projected on a completely different and overlapping in the world where they were.
Despite the movements of both inexperienced, sometimes embarrassed as the two girls first kiss, his hands touched the body of the hesitant, timid. As if they were afraid it was all a dream that suddenly becomes realize that nothing of what they are doing is true. An investigation, an unknown heat which causes them to collapse on the bed without interrupting the contact for the world.
the end got the better of the lungs, had to come off-even if reluctantly. " At that exact moment they opened both eyes at the precise thing they read they could only know each other.
Silence fell, both still had the taste of your lips on the other language.
"R-Riku, I ..." Sora swallowed hard, threw his arms around his neck and smiled like a child who had just taste his favorite dessert. "I'll by another?"
The snow continued to fall like a curtain on that scene that the world should not see.
. Finish.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Best Pearl Jam Bootlegs
Pic nic [Denice]
Title of Chapter: Picnic
Characters: Iceland / Denmark
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES Flash - fic / Romance / Shonen-ai
Disclaimer: Celebrities, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
'Icee! "Despite
close the window, including taxes, the irritating voice of Denmark in his ears pierced, drilling and consequently destroys the brain. Annoying, yes.
There could have been better word to describe the annoying Danish ... that, by golly!, was throwing stones against the window!
If he had waited a few seconds I wonder to what extent it would arrive. Maybe avvrebbe tried to break down the door with a battering ram. Best avoided.
opened the window, leaning out with half bust. His hair disheveled, his eyes blazing purple with envy and bow undone.
"What the hell do you want?" Syllabus, choosing his words carefully, making them sharp and full of malice. Not only had disturbed his sleep, but had also done so quite noisy and intrusive. Ice and hated that kind of intrusiveness. Especially if you wore the face and voice of Denmark.
smiled the biggest, waving a massive and surely full basket lunch. "Today is a beautiful day ... Would you like to eat together? "Ice
blinked. Yes, I would certainly be a dream.
~
And yet, despite everything, despite the fact that they had made a clearing in the middle of lunch with the unit on the towel on the ground, could not believe it. He was contrite in his tight jacket with red cheeks and downcast eyes, Den, however, did nothing but embarrass even more. Hugged him, trying to spoon-feed!, Offered him a drink even though he had not touched food.
It was a situation at the extreme limit of shame, since he had become independent had not had such close contact with the Danish and, therefore, was somewhat uncomfortable.
'Den ... Wait, I ... "
She put her hand on his chest, almost gently away so you have room to talk, and occasionally to breathe. "We have not never had ... A decent relationship. Yeah, I mean, you know, I would not, but-"
The speech was interrupted abruptly. Not Ice, no, but Den. And not with a simple gesture like a hand over her mouth or a shouted sentence above, but with a kiss. Ice
eyes became huge pools of purple and bright from a nondescript mixture of shame and desire, fear and expectation. Her little hands clung to the shirt that he wore Den, Stratton against him up to lying down, one below and one above, dodging the towel on groceries now stripped of all interest.
broke away shortly after, the tears fell from the eyes of Ice without him he used his authority to stop them. Den smiled, almost foolishly, fusing his aquamarine eyes with the deep purple of Ice. "And if we were to change this relationship?"
moments of silence passed, during which the mind of Ice does not process any response. Her lips were moving first.
"God, yes!"
He raised his arms, clasped his neck and pulled him towards him, kissing him on his own initiative without saying a word. Den had never seen, felt or heard clearer answer than that.
Title of Chapter: Picnic
Characters: Iceland / Denmark
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES Flash - fic / Romance / Shonen-ai
Disclaimer: Celebrities, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. Picnic.
'Icee! "Despite
close the window, including taxes, the irritating voice of Denmark in his ears pierced, drilling and consequently destroys the brain. Annoying, yes.
There could have been better word to describe the annoying Danish ... that, by golly!, was throwing stones against the window!
If he had waited a few seconds I wonder to what extent it would arrive. Maybe avvrebbe tried to break down the door with a battering ram. Best avoided.
opened the window, leaning out with half bust. His hair disheveled, his eyes blazing purple with envy and bow undone.
"What the hell do you want?" Syllabus, choosing his words carefully, making them sharp and full of malice. Not only had disturbed his sleep, but had also done so quite noisy and intrusive. Ice and hated that kind of intrusiveness. Especially if you wore the face and voice of Denmark.
smiled the biggest, waving a massive and surely full basket lunch. "Today is a beautiful day ... Would you like to eat together? "Ice
blinked. Yes, I would certainly be a dream.
~
And yet, despite everything, despite the fact that they had made a clearing in the middle of lunch with the unit on the towel on the ground, could not believe it. He was contrite in his tight jacket with red cheeks and downcast eyes, Den, however, did nothing but embarrass even more. Hugged him, trying to spoon-feed!, Offered him a drink even though he had not touched food.
It was a situation at the extreme limit of shame, since he had become independent had not had such close contact with the Danish and, therefore, was somewhat uncomfortable.
'Den ... Wait, I ... "
She put her hand on his chest, almost gently away so you have room to talk, and occasionally to breathe. "We have not never had ... A decent relationship. Yeah, I mean, you know, I would not, but-"
The speech was interrupted abruptly. Not Ice, no, but Den. And not with a simple gesture like a hand over her mouth or a shouted sentence above, but with a kiss. Ice
eyes became huge pools of purple and bright from a nondescript mixture of shame and desire, fear and expectation. Her little hands clung to the shirt that he wore Den, Stratton against him up to lying down, one below and one above, dodging the towel on groceries now stripped of all interest.
broke away shortly after, the tears fell from the eyes of Ice without him he used his authority to stop them. Den smiled, almost foolishly, fusing his aquamarine eyes with the deep purple of Ice. "And if we were to change this relationship?"
moments of silence passed, during which the mind of Ice does not process any response. Her lips were moving first.
"God, yes!"
He raised his arms, clasped his neck and pulled him towards him, kissing him on his own initiative without saying a word. Den had never seen, felt or heard clearer answer than that.
. Finish.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Tennis Shoes Ok For Hiking The Grand Canyon
Same mirror [GerSud! Ita]
Title of chapter: Same mirror
Characters: Wellschmidt Ludwig (Germany) / Lovino "Romano" Vargas (Sud! Italy)
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Shonen
-ai Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
was the first time I met him. Feliciano was usually a treat, his stupid brother, and had never raised the issue of understanding what kind of person he was. It certainly was not the right time to cross their paths, since they seemed to have the same mood. Ludwig, tall and muscular with blond hair in the light of the midday sun seemed white, Lovina, with the bunch that started from the very front parallel to the ground and eyes on the world around one thing in common ...
"Hey, potato-eating, take a little 'more in there that I'm hot!" His voice broke a little warm that air Summer Lovin property, giving the owner two blue eyes full of anger.
"Why should I heat it too, so dark and divided this certainly does not help." Despite the grumbling gave way to the boy, who sat down heavily in one small area of shadow show of indifference.
"Tsk, that's because you are stupid! Watch mine: is clear, so I just hot. "
The statement was greeted with silence unequivocal. Germany looked to southern Italy with the same expression which reserved to the brother of the North, perhaps slightly less exaggerated. It was certainly not meeting best he could do on a sultry summer afternoon, in which he could not even take a bath because he did not know the area well. He sighed, running a hand through his sweaty-yes, even her head-on.
"Listen to me ... it is clear that we are both cranky, we both have hot beyond the different color of the uniforms, so ... "stared at a daisy that still resisted AFA overwhelming. "... since you know the area well, in short, lives there, is not that ... know of a river, I do not know, a lake near here? "
Nah, could not quite believe his ears. Man, the more masculine-eating potatoes that had ever known, asked him something like that tone? Worse than the first girl crush. It looked at him, feeling stupid and clearly a nonsense and get redness on the cheeks spread to the ears. No, why?!
'V. .. OK, follow me stupid. "muttered Lovino, causing a rustle in the grass dry when it lifted, closely followed by heavy footsteps caused by nailed boots of Ludwig.
something strange was happening.
walked for about a quarter of an hour under the sun that gradually grew more ruthless. Lovino had getting hotter, especially in the face, or was it just to see the effect at that time, a Germany surrounded by half-naked to the waist in the water?
short, he was not looking on purpose, but damn it, that body was screaming to be fixed-and perhaps even touched, this would have never crossed my mind even for a moment of Lovino .-
E Ludwig chose that moment to turn around, and saw the boy's face completely red and the expression almost pained. He looked sick, and his first impulse was to get close to help him. Well, then who would feel happy if his beloved brother had fainted in his presence? Better not think about it. And
approached, announced by the sound of water stirred and slow breaths and calibrated. The water seemed to have worked wonders. Without realizing it Lovino, Germany put her hands on her cheeks. They were hot, and strangely even more red.
"All right, Lovin?" One of the rare occasions when his name was uttered that.
And perhaps for the gesture, or words, or the embarrassment that had reached stratospheric levels, Lovin slipped on a rock-hating when he had decided to take off his boots, just to finish off against and for him huge breast of Germany.
stood still, with brown eyes wide open. Not a trace of redness, now it was well beyond that threshold, and the hands do not really know where to hold on to. They found a naked back, as wide as the chest, and the claw.
"Lovino ...?»
Ludwig's voice came muffled to the ears of the Italian, who preferred to put your lips on the skin fresh.
'... I do not know anyone-eating potatoes. "He said, getting up and ready to face whatever came into his mind. He put in a tip-toe, and here it is. A kiss to his lips.
"We're not so different ... after all. "
Title of chapter: Same mirror
Characters: Wellschmidt Ludwig (Germany) / Lovino "Romano" Vargas (Sud! Italy)
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Shonen
-ai Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
fanfiction ranked fourth in the contest "A Contest for Faber" announced by Roy Mustung're a dumpling
. Same mirror.
was the first time I met him. Feliciano was usually a treat, his stupid brother, and had never raised the issue of understanding what kind of person he was. It certainly was not the right time to cross their paths, since they seemed to have the same mood. Ludwig, tall and muscular with blond hair in the light of the midday sun seemed white, Lovina, with the bunch that started from the very front parallel to the ground and eyes on the world around one thing in common ...
"Hey, potato-eating, take a little 'more in there that I'm hot!" His voice broke a little warm that air Summer Lovin property, giving the owner two blue eyes full of anger.
"Why should I heat it too, so dark and divided this certainly does not help." Despite the grumbling gave way to the boy, who sat down heavily in one small area of shadow show of indifference.
"Tsk, that's because you are stupid! Watch mine: is clear, so I just hot. "
The statement was greeted with silence unequivocal. Germany looked to southern Italy with the same expression which reserved to the brother of the North, perhaps slightly less exaggerated. It was certainly not meeting best he could do on a sultry summer afternoon, in which he could not even take a bath because he did not know the area well. He sighed, running a hand through his sweaty-yes, even her head-on.
"Listen to me ... it is clear that we are both cranky, we both have hot beyond the different color of the uniforms, so ... "stared at a daisy that still resisted AFA overwhelming. "... since you know the area well, in short, lives there, is not that ... know of a river, I do not know, a lake near here? "
Nah, could not quite believe his ears. Man, the more masculine-eating potatoes that had ever known, asked him something like that tone? Worse than the first girl crush. It looked at him, feeling stupid and clearly a nonsense and get redness on the cheeks spread to the ears. No, why?!
'V. .. OK, follow me stupid. "muttered Lovino, causing a rustle in the grass dry when it lifted, closely followed by heavy footsteps caused by nailed boots of Ludwig.
something strange was happening.
walked for about a quarter of an hour under the sun that gradually grew more ruthless. Lovino had getting hotter, especially in the face, or was it just to see the effect at that time, a Germany surrounded by half-naked to the waist in the water?
short, he was not looking on purpose, but damn it, that body was screaming to be fixed-and perhaps even touched, this would have never crossed my mind even for a moment of Lovino .-
E Ludwig chose that moment to turn around, and saw the boy's face completely red and the expression almost pained. He looked sick, and his first impulse was to get close to help him. Well, then who would feel happy if his beloved brother had fainted in his presence? Better not think about it. And
approached, announced by the sound of water stirred and slow breaths and calibrated. The water seemed to have worked wonders. Without realizing it Lovino, Germany put her hands on her cheeks. They were hot, and strangely even more red.
"All right, Lovin?" One of the rare occasions when his name was uttered that.
And perhaps for the gesture, or words, or the embarrassment that had reached stratospheric levels, Lovin slipped on a rock-hating when he had decided to take off his boots, just to finish off against and for him huge breast of Germany.
stood still, with brown eyes wide open. Not a trace of redness, now it was well beyond that threshold, and the hands do not really know where to hold on to. They found a naked back, as wide as the chest, and the claw.
"Lovino ...?»
Ludwig's voice came muffled to the ears of the Italian, who preferred to put your lips on the skin fresh.
'... I do not know anyone-eating potatoes. "He said, getting up and ready to face whatever came into his mind. He put in a tip-toe, and here it is. A kiss to his lips.
"We're not so different ... after all. "
. Finish. You can
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Red Capillaries On Breast
No.
weep for such a thing? I'm just
roles on Facebook, even mine, but I read that thing I burst into tears.
What the fuck.
But why ...? Why?
E 'was as if my heart would break e. .. fuck, if it hurts. Maybe because I hold these two a bit 'too much, a bit' too much really.
Tell me why ...
weep for such a thing? I'm just
roles on Facebook, even mine, but I read that thing I burst into tears.
What the fuck.
But why ...? Why?
E 'was as if my heart would break e. .. fuck, if it hurts. Maybe because I hold these two a bit 'too much, a bit' too much really.
Tell me why ...
Saturday, May 1, 2010
What Is The Tolit Roll Test
Here comes the King. Prussia-centric
chapter title: Here Comes the King
Characters: Gilbert Wellschimdt (Prussia)
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Introspective / History
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya; the writing and situations are my property.
He began. Small nation, a small fraction of the immense Holy Roman Empire, not important and not at all dangerous in the eyes of other nations. Also threatened by that colossus that was Russia, which loomed over her and stretched her fingers to recover quell'esiguo icy patch of land. In Russia it's never enough power. And instead
Prussia, waving his flag undeterred dlla contested his hand continued to move forward and become stronger and more neutral.
"Oh people of Prussia! Follow me, follow the heart of your nation and I promise you now, solemnly, in front of our flag that so well is close to my hand, that we can become the greatest power in Europe and everyone will be scared of us and love us, because we will be the power of the sword, the spear and courage, "Gilbert
Wellschimdt. He was
Prussia. An albino red eyes from idle, the smile almost always wrong in a horrible grin and devastating, soul corrupted by a thirst for battle, from the heart that beat just to show the world who could do it.
and does not neglect any war, always tried to be first in line to fight with each nation would dare challenge his power. And though still small, win and win. And its territory was expanding more and more until, after entering into the good graces of Austria, the immense Hapsburg Empire, he had managed to penetrate, albeit slightly, in that so that Europe wanted. Check France, to join the Holy Alliance, draw his sword in the name of a God that was convenient to believe. And
mercilessly trampled the dreams of others, with the bloody sword hilt inlaid ivory and eyes dangerously close to the black abyss of the true madness. Most likely when she found herself falling under the blows of Russia there was already sunk.
because at that time did not matter very the win or lose, things were unimportant and secondary. The flag flew over to national pride but for personal pride. The blows were just for the pure pleasure of destruction and fighting until one of them had no more breath. Enjoyed.
But he had miscalculated. He had not thought that Russia was much stronger than him. And when Ivan, the most foolish of him, had given the coup de grace Gilbert had found to laugh at himself.
How much sadness.
every wish had been burned, destroyed all desire as if it never existed. The dreams were pulverized, the flag lying on the ground stained with blood and earth. The eagle screeched more: Prussia trying to get rid of the cage was destroyed. He had crossed the border.
But perhaps this was just what he needed. He could be everything, be the center of an empire that would dominate the world, no longer enemies, but all united under a big banner and a great hymn. But she chose to be free from coercion and heavy crown, choosing the path more difficult but more effective.
And he was sure, absolutely sure, to be resurrected.
would be resurrected by a free nation, more powerful than before, and did not make the same mistakes. The systematic tactic so dear to a dear friend ... He would have endorsed.
And then the world will be forced to bow to Prussia reborn from the ashes like the phoenix, and all will be forced to exclaim in chorus only a cry that would fill the heart of Gilbert of calm and strength.
"Behold the King! It is the king! "
sounded so sweet, those words, thinking about it.
chapter title: Here Comes the King
Characters: Gilbert Wellschimdt (Prussia)
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Introspective / History
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya; the writing and situations are my property.
. Here comes the King.
Perhaps in this place lies some forgotten hero once pregnant with celestial fire; hands that could hold
the scepter of empire, or wake to ecstasy the file vibrant life. [...] To arouse the applause of the Senate to listen, to disregard the threats of pain and destruction, spreading the wealth on the ground laughing, and read their story in the eyes of a nation.
[T.Gray-Elegy]
the scepter of empire, or wake to ecstasy the file vibrant life. [...] To arouse the applause of the Senate to listen, to disregard the threats of pain and destruction, spreading the wealth on the ground laughing, and read their story in the eyes of a nation.
[T.Gray-Elegy]
He began. Small nation, a small fraction of the immense Holy Roman Empire, not important and not at all dangerous in the eyes of other nations. Also threatened by that colossus that was Russia, which loomed over her and stretched her fingers to recover quell'esiguo icy patch of land. In Russia it's never enough power. And instead
Prussia, waving his flag undeterred dlla contested his hand continued to move forward and become stronger and more neutral.
"Oh people of Prussia! Follow me, follow the heart of your nation and I promise you now, solemnly, in front of our flag that so well is close to my hand, that we can become the greatest power in Europe and everyone will be scared of us and love us, because we will be the power of the sword, the spear and courage, "Gilbert
Wellschimdt. He was
Prussia. An albino red eyes from idle, the smile almost always wrong in a horrible grin and devastating, soul corrupted by a thirst for battle, from the heart that beat just to show the world who could do it.
and does not neglect any war, always tried to be first in line to fight with each nation would dare challenge his power. And though still small, win and win. And its territory was expanding more and more until, after entering into the good graces of Austria, the immense Hapsburg Empire, he had managed to penetrate, albeit slightly, in that so that Europe wanted. Check France, to join the Holy Alliance, draw his sword in the name of a God that was convenient to believe. And
mercilessly trampled the dreams of others, with the bloody sword hilt inlaid ivory and eyes dangerously close to the black abyss of the true madness. Most likely when she found herself falling under the blows of Russia there was already sunk.
because at that time did not matter very the win or lose, things were unimportant and secondary. The flag flew over to national pride but for personal pride. The blows were just for the pure pleasure of destruction and fighting until one of them had no more breath. Enjoyed.
But he had miscalculated. He had not thought that Russia was much stronger than him. And when Ivan, the most foolish of him, had given the coup de grace Gilbert had found to laugh at himself.
How much sadness.
every wish had been burned, destroyed all desire as if it never existed. The dreams were pulverized, the flag lying on the ground stained with blood and earth. The eagle screeched more: Prussia trying to get rid of the cage was destroyed. He had crossed the border.
But perhaps this was just what he needed. He could be everything, be the center of an empire that would dominate the world, no longer enemies, but all united under a big banner and a great hymn. But she chose to be free from coercion and heavy crown, choosing the path more difficult but more effective.
And he was sure, absolutely sure, to be resurrected.
would be resurrected by a free nation, more powerful than before, and did not make the same mistakes. The systematic tactic so dear to a dear friend ... He would have endorsed.
And then the world will be forced to bow to Prussia reborn from the ashes like the phoenix, and all will be forced to exclaim in chorus only a cry that would fill the heart of Gilbert of calm and strength.
"Behold the King! It is the king! "
sounded so sweet, those words, thinking about it.
. Finish.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sidereel At Northwestern
-squeak-DenNor-
Title of chapter: squeak
Characters: Norway / Denmark
Rating: Red
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Comedy / Romance
Disclaimer: People, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya; the writing and situations are my property.
Open. Closed. Open. Closed.
strange, increasingly closed and opened eyes and yet that stupid face, that stupid body, that stupid-huge-pack and that stupid in general was still there in the doorway of his house and even tried to enter without be invited. Sooner or later it would hit him so hard that it pass out there where he was.
"What do you want?" There, perfect. Flat voice, monotone, eyes and mouth hard. A clear signal had to leave Denmark, and also fast.
Too bad he could not implement it. Or at least not entirely.
"Since your bed creaking in a fearful every time I fuck you bought this!" So here's what was in that box, so bulky. A bed. Fig.
But Norway was not able to incorporate the fact that it was a good read, because the word sex was about to slam the door in his face the whole of Denmark with the intention not to enter for at least the next thousand years. But the Dane was quicker: crept la scatola appena in tempo per costringere Nor a farlo entrare. Poi sarebbe stato tutto molto più semplice.
Sospirando in modo perfettamente udibile Norvegia lo fece entrare, per poi salire le scale che portavano al piano di sopra senza nemmeno degnare di uno sguardo l'altro che, dal canto suo, lo stava già seguendo docile come un cagnolino. Continuava a parlare dell'ottima qualità del letto che aveva preso, che ci sarebbero voluti solo dieci minuti a montarlo -Ikea docet- e che poi avrebbero dovuto assolutamente provarlo .
Chiara prova che Den era davvero stupido, perchè se forse aveva qualche speranza di "provare" il nuovo letto in quel momento it was as if he had burned in a flash. Norway turned and shut the door of the room which was just ajar, he pointed a finger imperiously at the end of the stairs. "Out."
Den's eyes widened slightly, a smile appeared on her lips, and resting the box on the ground with little grace, took the life norvegiese caricandoselo in the shoulder as if it were a naughty child . A spanking to complete the set, and here. A death in Norway ready to get pissed off with nothing. Den
But this did not matter.
"Truly, the box is empty, I just wanted an excuse." Here stretched his free hand, opened the door and behold, Nor found himself on his bed-the one that squeaks, so with great man-of Denmark looming over him with a smile that faded into a grin at the corner of the lips. He did not want to have sex, not at all, had just finished reading a book so heavy as to leave no desire for several months-especially if they were understood to have Den sweating and panting upon himself. Heck, it weighed! -. Typical of Denmark was not grasp the concepts more than obvious, but this time the strange gaze softened a little. Only a little.
"I do not want to do, Nor?" And so here goes again. With that low voice that blows my mind Nor and all its fairies. And that expression, eyes liquid shouting: Shit, I want you!
But how could he feel comfortable in such moments?
snorted, loudly as before, and saw their arms to get up to join in an almost infinitesimal neck Den. It was hot, and her hair was softer than usual, that if they had not washed for the occasion?
"Do what you want." It would never have found such an indecent proposal because of the tone. Bored, angry almost. But Denmark believed that there was so used to gather under a veil of desire icy that appearance, so much that he decided to be sweeter than usual.
"Well, as disobeyed? Otherwise there is a risk that reduces me to a pulp ... "
was a simple pull-down zip, a zip that did not last long at the hands of Den, which provvedette quickly to bring it down to leave the skin so damn sensitive that even a kiss was red in a way that it rev up. And on the rare occasions that he could take it gently and without going in a hurry were rare, really.
its part, Norway seemed almost passively accept those attentions. Not that it bothers him, even when the language Denmark reached the zone that would be better not to name-he lost even a sob, quickly smothered by the hands that almost sealed the lips. But it was not only the language of the problem: when your fingers because it violated no apparent logical connection between the smile of Den and what they were doing all these fingers took a different turn.
follow the movement with your body and soul, feeling very close to someone rather than in his whole life. Maybe it was the act in itself, which, while condemning it whenever the opportunity presents itself if the did not get away, maybe it was the stupid excuse that the Dane had used to approach it, after all that had made him smile even if he had not demonstrated, or maybe it was because the man who was preparing him in the ear Blow out compliments that was not used to hearing it was just Denmark. Most likely if it was someone else would not be the same.
"Nor ... ah ... "But more than anything was the sound of his voice that drew lightning shivers throughout her body, and he took it. And I felt, damn it, I felt that time pushing as ever. His hands slowly slipped from his lips and left ear of the Danish free to sigh as he deserved.
'Den ... "he murmured, with the body moved increasingly into the cushions from the heat. "Den ..." more powerful voice, taking on any part of his body grew strong enough to scratch the hard Pellacchia of Denmark.
'Den, "No way, not even once he had managed to resist its name from the URL while back there was a tendency to bow and was smearing those sheets that, damn, I had really seen all the colors.
sank against the mattress without saying a word, not that I usually say a lot, intent on staring at the ceiling and catch your breath that he had been taken away by force. Without the slightest notice that Den was laughing, lying on side with one hand on her belly. Or rather, the hand felt.
"Hey Nor." The requested swiveled his head slowly. If he was tired before you begin at that time was three times more tired.
"Mh?" Barely a monosyllable, not at all discouraged Den. He began to laugh more when they get the attention of the boy and slapped his hand that held his head on the mattress.
"Listen," he said, tapping it again. "Cigola for real!"
Most likely the cry of Denmark with very little grace was thrown out of the house Norway was felt throughout Europe.
Title of chapter: squeak
Characters: Norway / Denmark
Rating: Red
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Comedy / Romance
Disclaimer: People, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya; the writing and situations are my property.
. Squeaking.
Open. Closed. Open. Closed.
strange, increasingly closed and opened eyes and yet that stupid face, that stupid body, that stupid-huge-pack and that stupid in general was still there in the doorway of his house and even tried to enter without be invited. Sooner or later it would hit him so hard that it pass out there where he was.
"What do you want?" There, perfect. Flat voice, monotone, eyes and mouth hard. A clear signal had to leave Denmark, and also fast.
Too bad he could not implement it. Or at least not entirely.
"Since your bed creaking in a fearful every time I fuck you bought this!" So here's what was in that box, so bulky. A bed. Fig.
But Norway was not able to incorporate the fact that it was a good read, because the word sex was about to slam the door in his face the whole of Denmark with the intention not to enter for at least the next thousand years. But the Dane was quicker: crept la scatola appena in tempo per costringere Nor a farlo entrare. Poi sarebbe stato tutto molto più semplice.
Sospirando in modo perfettamente udibile Norvegia lo fece entrare, per poi salire le scale che portavano al piano di sopra senza nemmeno degnare di uno sguardo l'altro che, dal canto suo, lo stava già seguendo docile come un cagnolino. Continuava a parlare dell'ottima qualità del letto che aveva preso, che ci sarebbero voluti solo dieci minuti a montarlo -Ikea docet- e che poi avrebbero dovuto assolutamente provarlo .
Chiara prova che Den era davvero stupido, perchè se forse aveva qualche speranza di "provare" il nuovo letto in quel momento it was as if he had burned in a flash. Norway turned and shut the door of the room which was just ajar, he pointed a finger imperiously at the end of the stairs. "Out."
Den's eyes widened slightly, a smile appeared on her lips, and resting the box on the ground with little grace, took the life norvegiese caricandoselo in the shoulder as if it were a naughty child . A spanking to complete the set, and here. A death in Norway ready to get pissed off with nothing. Den
But this did not matter.
"Truly, the box is empty, I just wanted an excuse." Here stretched his free hand, opened the door and behold, Nor found himself on his bed-the one that squeaks, so with great man-of Denmark looming over him with a smile that faded into a grin at the corner of the lips. He did not want to have sex, not at all, had just finished reading a book so heavy as to leave no desire for several months-especially if they were understood to have Den sweating and panting upon himself. Heck, it weighed! -. Typical of Denmark was not grasp the concepts more than obvious, but this time the strange gaze softened a little. Only a little.
"I do not want to do, Nor?" And so here goes again. With that low voice that blows my mind Nor and all its fairies. And that expression, eyes liquid shouting: Shit, I want you!
But how could he feel comfortable in such moments?
snorted, loudly as before, and saw their arms to get up to join in an almost infinitesimal neck Den. It was hot, and her hair was softer than usual, that if they had not washed for the occasion?
"Do what you want." It would never have found such an indecent proposal because of the tone. Bored, angry almost. But Denmark believed that there was so used to gather under a veil of desire icy that appearance, so much that he decided to be sweeter than usual.
"Well, as disobeyed? Otherwise there is a risk that reduces me to a pulp ... "
was a simple pull-down zip, a zip that did not last long at the hands of Den, which provvedette quickly to bring it down to leave the skin so damn sensitive that even a kiss was red in a way that it rev up. And on the rare occasions that he could take it gently and without going in a hurry were rare, really.
its part, Norway seemed almost passively accept those attentions. Not that it bothers him, even when the language Denmark reached the zone that would be better not to name-he lost even a sob, quickly smothered by the hands that almost sealed the lips. But it was not only the language of the problem: when your fingers because it violated no apparent logical connection between the smile of Den and what they were doing all these fingers took a different turn.
follow the movement with your body and soul, feeling very close to someone rather than in his whole life. Maybe it was the act in itself, which, while condemning it whenever the opportunity presents itself if the did not get away, maybe it was the stupid excuse that the Dane had used to approach it, after all that had made him smile even if he had not demonstrated, or maybe it was because the man who was preparing him in the ear Blow out compliments that was not used to hearing it was just Denmark. Most likely if it was someone else would not be the same.
"Nor ... ah ... "But more than anything was the sound of his voice that drew lightning shivers throughout her body, and he took it. And I felt, damn it, I felt that time pushing as ever. His hands slowly slipped from his lips and left ear of the Danish free to sigh as he deserved.
'Den ... "he murmured, with the body moved increasingly into the cushions from the heat. "Den ..." more powerful voice, taking on any part of his body grew strong enough to scratch the hard Pellacchia of Denmark.
'Den, "No way, not even once he had managed to resist its name from the URL while back there was a tendency to bow and was smearing those sheets that, damn, I had really seen all the colors.
sank against the mattress without saying a word, not that I usually say a lot, intent on staring at the ceiling and catch your breath that he had been taken away by force. Without the slightest notice that Den was laughing, lying on side with one hand on her belly. Or rather, the hand felt.
"Hey Nor." The requested swiveled his head slowly. If he was tired before you begin at that time was three times more tired.
"Mh?" Barely a monosyllable, not at all discouraged Den. He began to laugh more when they get the attention of the boy and slapped his hand that held his head on the mattress.
"Listen," he said, tapping it again. "Cigola for real!"
Most likely the cry of Denmark with very little grace was thrown out of the house Norway was felt throughout Europe.
. Squeaking.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Anterior Myometril Uterine Fibroid
I do not live without you
Pf
At the end I did not wait to give you the gift. Most likely because the video I just saw touched me and then I found the inspiration, perhaps.
Because of the remoteness and little money in my possession I can not and will not be able to give you a tangible gift-or rather, when you come but for now I will not say-nullah, so I hope these few words can be sufficient. You
yesterday was telling me that you feel old. Well, Julia, you to me are the older nicer, more youthful and above I want to more over the entire face of the earth. And I realized something.
I without you now I can not live.
Have you taken a good slice of this withered little heart that's my little darling of less-and I assure you that is all. " I do not know what you can do it, but now it's yours.
It is precisely because of this that the only think you do not find you on msn because of that game, yes, I'm jealous, makes me sick because I miss you and I can not lead from behind to make you fall, the joystick and tear me from eating dinosaur of the day.
I thought these days that you were not present, and have concluded that you are more of a friend who was like-we-us. You are special, we are very different and yet we complement with those little things we have in common and that the only think I lose a smile.
say that the best day of the year has been one spent with you is an understatement, because I felt like a stretch rope, or chain, which has united us beyond a cold screen.
And the best thing is that you can see grow and see how you help me grow. And it's something I kidney so happy that I almost cry, because I almost never had this feeling about someone. With you I feel time passing as we know it is something precious and irreplaceable.
not want to sound like a child and say that all this will never end, but I like to think so.
I love you, senpai. And those three little words are not enough to express exactly what I feel and quantitatively.
Christmas, and I hope to have the opportunity to grow together again.
Pf
At the end I did not wait to give you the gift. Most likely because the video I just saw touched me and then I found the inspiration, perhaps.
Because of the remoteness and little money in my possession I can not and will not be able to give you a tangible gift-or rather, when you come but for now I will not say-nullah, so I hope these few words can be sufficient. You
yesterday was telling me that you feel old. Well, Julia, you to me are the older nicer, more youthful and above I want to more over the entire face of the earth. And I realized something.
I without you now I can not live.
Have you taken a good slice of this withered little heart that's my little darling of less-and I assure you that is all. " I do not know what you can do it, but now it's yours.
It is precisely because of this that the only think you do not find you on msn because of that game, yes, I'm jealous, makes me sick because I miss you and I can not lead from behind to make you fall, the joystick and tear me from eating dinosaur of the day.
I thought these days that you were not present, and have concluded that you are more of a friend who was like-we-us. You are special, we are very different and yet we complement with those little things we have in common and that the only think I lose a smile.
say that the best day of the year has been one spent with you is an understatement, because I felt like a stretch rope, or chain, which has united us beyond a cold screen.
And the best thing is that you can see grow and see how you help me grow. And it's something I kidney so happy that I almost cry, because I almost never had this feeling about someone. With you I feel time passing as we know it is something precious and irreplaceable.
not want to sound like a child and say that all this will never end, but I like to think so.
I love you, senpai. And those three little words are not enough to express exactly what I feel and quantitatively.
Christmas, and I hope to have the opportunity to grow together again.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Can You Program Starchoice Remote
Disarm me-Axel x Roxas-
Title of chapter: Disarm me
Characters: Roxas / Axel
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Melancholy / Sad
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Nomura Sensei, the writing and situations are my property.
He had observed a long time during those few weeks. Unknown to him had followed, stalked almost, but eventually was able to find out what the hell that kid had in mind. And he knew, damn it, he knew that would be solved with a stalemate or worse. Here, then worse in particular did not want to even think for half a second. Initially
his was a mere intuition. Roxas claimed to know quite well, and had blue eyes of his friend noticed a black cloud that was deepening more and more, the same restlessness that Axel could feel when they found themselves to exchange what were pampering of those who felt completely alone.
Especially during the morning: they had gone a little 'alone, and Axel had tried in every way to bring a smile to Roxas. Had also come to give them the couple while they were lying on the lawn first vaguely clean they had encountered. The youngest was curved lips, but the smile did not reach the eyes that saw Axel always darker. It was during that evening that he decided to speak out. He could no longer watch, was not the type.
was late at night, maybe not the best time to start a discussion that could be really turned on. But Axel felt even into the soul or sought clarification that night or Roxas would have lost without even knowing why.
knew very well where he could find it. In fact, there he is, which rotated to face the noise of the creaking door of the room that was open. He was sitting on the bed, with only the light coming in through the window-that-was, however, little to illuminate his face and as the Organization was not removed. As if he felt nostalgia for the dark hood.
"Axel, what are you doing still awake at this hour?"
She looked at him, trying to unravel what the heck he was thinking behind those wells that reflected an image of himself, panting, and damn worried lover. But he preferred to keep him for herself, or would have been even worse.
shook his head, closed the door behind him and sat on the bed against the back of Roxas, making the bedsprings creak. A spontaneous smile he lost in the noise, how many times he had heard ...
"What happens, Roxas?" The question was perhaps a bit 'too direct, and the expression with which he had asked was really bad. But he did not know how to deal with the topic, he fear of failure, fear of combining some kind of trouble that very night. It was not the case.
Roxas's right hand is clenched into fists on the sheets, producing a noise that was like thunder in the silence of the room. Accelerated breaths, the sound of chains that clash.
"Axel, listen, I ..." Axel
For those first words were enough to silence the other with a sudden wave of his hand. "I understand." He murmured, his face covered by his hand off. He did not know where to start, but eventually the conversation came down to two simple words.
I'll miss you. But as
potergliele say without sounding too silly or even dramatic?
He took a deep breath, his hand slowly slipped from her face to end softly in her lap. "Roxas. You do not understand that it risks disappearing? "It was not what he meant, but what could he do but make him think? "I'll kill Roxas, and I could not stop it! For what purpose do such an end? "
He raised his voice, damn it. Certainly Demyx, who was sleeping nearby, he woke up and within a short time he began to cry. That idiot ...
But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a contact who would never have expected. Roxas was the soft skin of his hand, that a light touch on the touched the fingers and back. Axel lowered his eyes from the face of Roxas in hand, opening his lips.
"Do not miss any, Axel ... is the best. "
She bit her lip, shook his hand and rolled over one of the youngest. Roxas said he did not want those dirty lies-those-were for him, he did not think that what he had just said.
"Stop! Stupid! You do not understand that ... that ... "the words died in her throat. He raised his eyes, without actually fixing those now empty of Roxas, just leaned over, brushing his lips with his own. A light touch, full of anger, sadness. "... I miss you, stupid. "What was that wet suddenly furrowed cheeks? He had no idea that those were called tears.
Roxas waited a little before replying, also whispering. "Why, Axel?" Put a hand on his chest, wrapped in black uniforms who hated from the bottom of my heart. "You have a heart, you can not ..."
"stupid," Well, that way they would wake up everyone. It was more than certain, dammit. "YOU ARE JUST A STUPID! IT WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT ALL ... that ... " shoulders collapsed. What reason was there to continue to scream? Both would soon be gone, and within themselves would have only the memory of these kisses and smile.
A rustle, a burst of spring, and there he is standing in front of the door. "I know Axel. Me too. "
stuck out his hand, opened the door and disappeared in the space that had opened in the dark corridor. I walk slowly faded, and Axel was sure than ever that his heart was gone.
If that boy was taken away so melancholy, disarming it of any defense to the pain of being a Nobody. A Nothing.
"What kind of stupid ... "But certainly not
she wanted him back, that heart.
Title of chapter: Disarm me
Characters: Roxas / Axel
Rating: Yellow
FOOTNOTES One-shot / Melancholy / Sad
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Nomura Sensei, the writing and situations are my property.
. Disarm me.
He had observed a long time during those few weeks. Unknown to him had followed, stalked almost, but eventually was able to find out what the hell that kid had in mind. And he knew, damn it, he knew that would be solved with a stalemate or worse. Here, then worse in particular did not want to even think for half a second. Initially
his was a mere intuition. Roxas claimed to know quite well, and had blue eyes of his friend noticed a black cloud that was deepening more and more, the same restlessness that Axel could feel when they found themselves to exchange what were pampering of those who felt completely alone.
Especially during the morning: they had gone a little 'alone, and Axel had tried in every way to bring a smile to Roxas. Had also come to give them the couple while they were lying on the lawn first vaguely clean they had encountered. The youngest was curved lips, but the smile did not reach the eyes that saw Axel always darker. It was during that evening that he decided to speak out. He could no longer watch, was not the type.
was late at night, maybe not the best time to start a discussion that could be really turned on. But Axel felt even into the soul or sought clarification that night or Roxas would have lost without even knowing why.
knew very well where he could find it. In fact, there he is, which rotated to face the noise of the creaking door of the room that was open. He was sitting on the bed, with only the light coming in through the window-that-was, however, little to illuminate his face and as the Organization was not removed. As if he felt nostalgia for the dark hood.
"Axel, what are you doing still awake at this hour?"
She looked at him, trying to unravel what the heck he was thinking behind those wells that reflected an image of himself, panting, and damn worried lover. But he preferred to keep him for herself, or would have been even worse.
shook his head, closed the door behind him and sat on the bed against the back of Roxas, making the bedsprings creak. A spontaneous smile he lost in the noise, how many times he had heard ...
"What happens, Roxas?" The question was perhaps a bit 'too direct, and the expression with which he had asked was really bad. But he did not know how to deal with the topic, he fear of failure, fear of combining some kind of trouble that very night. It was not the case.
Roxas's right hand is clenched into fists on the sheets, producing a noise that was like thunder in the silence of the room. Accelerated breaths, the sound of chains that clash.
"Axel, listen, I ..." Axel
For those first words were enough to silence the other with a sudden wave of his hand. "I understand." He murmured, his face covered by his hand off. He did not know where to start, but eventually the conversation came down to two simple words.
I'll miss you. But as
potergliele say without sounding too silly or even dramatic?
He took a deep breath, his hand slowly slipped from her face to end softly in her lap. "Roxas. You do not understand that it risks disappearing? "It was not what he meant, but what could he do but make him think? "I'll kill Roxas, and I could not stop it! For what purpose do such an end? "
He raised his voice, damn it. Certainly Demyx, who was sleeping nearby, he woke up and within a short time he began to cry. That idiot ...
But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a contact who would never have expected. Roxas was the soft skin of his hand, that a light touch on the touched the fingers and back. Axel lowered his eyes from the face of Roxas in hand, opening his lips.
"Do not miss any, Axel ... is the best. "
She bit her lip, shook his hand and rolled over one of the youngest. Roxas said he did not want those dirty lies-those-were for him, he did not think that what he had just said.
"Stop! Stupid! You do not understand that ... that ... "the words died in her throat. He raised his eyes, without actually fixing those now empty of Roxas, just leaned over, brushing his lips with his own. A light touch, full of anger, sadness. "... I miss you, stupid. "What was that wet suddenly furrowed cheeks? He had no idea that those were called tears.
Roxas waited a little before replying, also whispering. "Why, Axel?" Put a hand on his chest, wrapped in black uniforms who hated from the bottom of my heart. "You have a heart, you can not ..."
"stupid," Well, that way they would wake up everyone. It was more than certain, dammit. "YOU ARE JUST A STUPID! IT WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT ALL ... that ... " shoulders collapsed. What reason was there to continue to scream? Both would soon be gone, and within themselves would have only the memory of these kisses and smile.
A rustle, a burst of spring, and there he is standing in front of the door. "I know Axel. Me too. "
stuck out his hand, opened the door and disappeared in the space that had opened in the dark corridor. I walk slowly faded, and Axel was sure than ever that his heart was gone.
If that boy was taken away so melancholy, disarming it of any defense to the pain of being a Nobody. A Nothing.
"What kind of stupid ... "But certainly not
she wanted him back, that heart.
. Finish.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Acrostic Poem For Vacuum
Empire [x Prussia France]
Title of Chapter: Empire
Characters: Gilbert Wellschimdt [Prussia] / Francis Bonnefoy [France]
Rating: Green
FOOTNOTES
Drabble Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
persos between the terrible whipping the rain stopped in front of a villa. He raised his eyes, accepting with dignity the flash of lightning.
The clouds were black and dense, menacing and terrible. But all in all looked like him.
And on this night of storm and fair horrors of burning, Prussia knocked on the doors of gentle France.
'E' permission? "He asked, but went anyway. He saw lying on the bed of the great love of the world past, and could not resist the temptation to approach him with an outstretched hand.
"Forget the world." He said Prussia. "And he began to love an Empire."
Title of Chapter: Empire
Characters: Gilbert Wellschimdt [Prussia] / Francis Bonnefoy [France]
Rating: Green
FOOTNOTES
Drabble Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Himaruya, the writing and situations are my property.
. Empire.
persos between the terrible whipping the rain stopped in front of a villa. He raised his eyes, accepting with dignity the flash of lightning.
The clouds were black and dense, menacing and terrible. But all in all looked like him.
And on this night of storm and fair horrors of burning, Prussia knocked on the doors of gentle France.
'E' permission? "He asked, but went anyway. He saw lying on the bed of the great love of the world past, and could not resist the temptation to approach him with an outstretched hand.
"Forget the world." He said Prussia. "And he began to love an Empire."
. Finish.
Dedicated to my
Dedicated to my
Furansu, because I love and is everything to me \u0026lt;3
Thursday, March 4, 2010
How Long Does It Take For Gastritis To Go Away
Nothing, Nowhere-Tyki + Lavi-
Title of chapter: Nothing, Nowhere.
Characters: Lavi / Tyki Mikk [mentioned]
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / AU / Dark / Nonsense
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Katsura Hoshino, the writing and situations are my property.
Burned. As if in them had been injected with liquid fire-what absurd! - And with every step, every meter ground by the legs did not want nor could stop the pain increased. As the light of the machines that warns when the gas is running out. The principle was more or less the same. Only a machine can afford to stop. One who was so pitifully running towards any salvation does not.
She did not know what it is following. Actually did not even know why he was in that situation, but her whole body screamed to run and flee as quickly as possible. Sweat clung to the skull red hair, making them uncomfortably heavy and almost odious, given that hindered the sight of the boy, in itself eyed.
It was the grass under her feet-but it was really grass? - That implacable and watch the desperate flight from Hell to the Unknown. To nowhere and nowhere.
Going forward under that sky full of stars and weird, the red-haired boy could feel the humidity stretching its greedy fingers into his clothes to his skin and into the sweat that was slowly causing him chills icing that had nothing to so normal. A forest, where they came from here those claws, damp smell of decay. That smell not at all pleasant
managed to stop his mad rush to the first layers of the forest. He wrinkled his nose, not at all convinced. That place gave off a stench of decay and corruption, just as a burial just recently uncovered from the tomb raiders.
It was almost as breathing, and that the smell was exactly the breath of that mass of logs.
But he had no time to think long. A sigh ran down his neck, sweating and icy, repeating in a language sounding harsh and hard as his name forgotten ruins. "Lavi ... "The guy so
called pressed her hands into fists. He should not have to relax, had become far too close. Rotate the body, with a nervous step, to at least see death in the face. But nothing. Only a light mist, and the constant beating of distant wings of an insect, probably a moth.
with tense muscles and the heart which seemed to explode at any moment, he began to move slowly and close walk her back to the old trees. It was probably a big mistake. As animated by its own life, the tree nearest to Wash a root-raised or had already raised? - And the foot of the guy you tripped. For a moment
the world lost cohesion and consistency, turning into a swirling whirlpool of dirty green and smells stale, forgotten by time. There were no more trees defined land defined and undefined fears. The only real thing was precisely the fear that took on the characteristics of an uncomfortable presence and somehow familiar.
From air-air if it was, he was not so sure the back-slammed forcefully against what was undoubtedly the ground. A strange black earth without a blade of grass to give them color, which was spreading in the forest until a few seconds before had so much anguish. But it was not a forest as all the others. First of all was silent. Not a sound, not even a vague hint at the life that should populate the trees and the ground. Empty and silent as a tomb. And then ...
"There are no leaves ..." Lavi's voice, usually ringing is full of joy at that moment was terribly rough and worn. Perhaps the fault of the mad rush, perhaps because of that silence, which tended to absorb all sound different from himself. The scratch
shoes of the young on the stones seemed the equivalent of thunder and the roar of his feet was like an earthquake that shook the earth to its very foundations hidden and forbidden. It seemed to be completely alone in that grave made of earth.
wandered among those skeletons of a kind now forgotten, brushing occasionally with the bodies of his hand. Most of them broke off and disappeared from the face of that silent world as if it never existed.
was a long time, even knew what Lavi. The landscape was all the same, and only a strange glow coming from the trees low enough to make out to put one foot before the other. Boredom and monotony of all that made each lower level of alertness of the boy, that even he realized that he had stopped at what looked like a clearing. In front of his eyes suddenly and attentive maybe he was scared a skeleton. From the chest made of rotted ribs sticking a branch cruel and ancient, of the same consistency and hardness of marine coral. Winning the anger and disgust, curiosity mounted as a wave in the mind of the boy, who came to touch the sun and empty sockets of the skeleton.
How long have you lived there? He, too, had wandered to the forest? And why was dead with a stick in the chest?
swallowed, and felt the saliva scrape his throat parched by now. The terror experienced during the first race had liquefied the horror of dying there, away from any form of life as he wanted without being able to do anything to fight. He passed his hand on the branch, and only then heard the first sound of that terrible place of nightmare. A deep hum, similar to drums and lost in underground tunnels, which seemed to come from far away, was approaching fast. Lavi stopped, slowly bring your hands against your chest. Could swear to have seen the trees move after the beginning of that requiem so terrible.
And indeed it was. Slow, silent as everything in this world, they were closing in on the boy and the skeleton. Arms stretched out to him that surely mirror that had removed the life to the man with no name, claims branches that glittered in the eyes of many swords Lavi as lethal.
He tried to move, to escape, apparently to escape the deadly trap. But his feet would not obey. Or better ... had simply vanished. And just at that moment he could see, with increasing terror, a mutilation of the skeleton nearby.
was missing toes.
She tried to scream, to reject those lifeless trunks with all the force that could engage in a terrible moment like that. But the vocal cords do not rispondettero the petition, only the arms somehow managed to delay the hour of his death.
" Lavi ... "A subtle caress the base of the neck, a sigh liquid on the skin terribly tense. A flash of golden eyes, and then a sharp pain followed by dark.
" Uh uh. "A figure dressed in a cloak of darkness that had come back that place is bent with white gloves to collect blood from the body by now battered and destroyed the young man had spurted in the wet black earth.
He bathed the index, holding it to his lips with a single fluid move. And then he laughed.
" Who is the next? Nothing, Nowhere, Is You coffin. "The
motionless silence was disturbed only by the dripping blood.
Title of chapter: Nothing, Nowhere.
Characters: Lavi / Tyki Mikk [mentioned]
Rating: Orange
FOOTNOTES One-shot / AU / Dark / Nonsense
Disclaimer: characters, places and habits are the property of Sensei Katsura Hoshino, the writing and situations are my property.
. Nothing, Nowhere.
Burned. As if in them had been injected with liquid fire-what absurd! - And with every step, every meter ground by the legs did not want nor could stop the pain increased. As the light of the machines that warns when the gas is running out. The principle was more or less the same. Only a machine can afford to stop. One who was so pitifully running towards any salvation does not.
She did not know what it is following. Actually did not even know why he was in that situation, but her whole body screamed to run and flee as quickly as possible. Sweat clung to the skull red hair, making them uncomfortably heavy and almost odious, given that hindered the sight of the boy, in itself eyed.
It was the grass under her feet-but it was really grass? - That implacable and watch the desperate flight from Hell to the Unknown. To nowhere and nowhere.
Going forward under that sky full of stars and weird, the red-haired boy could feel the humidity stretching its greedy fingers into his clothes to his skin and into the sweat that was slowly causing him chills icing that had nothing to so normal. A forest, where they came from here those claws, damp smell of decay. That smell not at all pleasant
managed to stop his mad rush to the first layers of the forest. He wrinkled his nose, not at all convinced. That place gave off a stench of decay and corruption, just as a burial just recently uncovered from the tomb raiders.
It was almost as breathing, and that the smell was exactly the breath of that mass of logs.
But he had no time to think long. A sigh ran down his neck, sweating and icy, repeating in a language sounding harsh and hard as his name forgotten ruins. "Lavi ... "The guy so
called pressed her hands into fists. He should not have to relax, had become far too close. Rotate the body, with a nervous step, to at least see death in the face. But nothing. Only a light mist, and the constant beating of distant wings of an insect, probably a moth.
with tense muscles and the heart which seemed to explode at any moment, he began to move slowly and close walk her back to the old trees. It was probably a big mistake. As animated by its own life, the tree nearest to Wash a root-raised or had already raised? - And the foot of the guy you tripped. For a moment
the world lost cohesion and consistency, turning into a swirling whirlpool of dirty green and smells stale, forgotten by time. There were no more trees defined land defined and undefined fears. The only real thing was precisely the fear that took on the characteristics of an uncomfortable presence and somehow familiar.
From air-air if it was, he was not so sure the back-slammed forcefully against what was undoubtedly the ground. A strange black earth without a blade of grass to give them color, which was spreading in the forest until a few seconds before had so much anguish. But it was not a forest as all the others. First of all was silent. Not a sound, not even a vague hint at the life that should populate the trees and the ground. Empty and silent as a tomb. And then ...
"There are no leaves ..." Lavi's voice, usually ringing is full of joy at that moment was terribly rough and worn. Perhaps the fault of the mad rush, perhaps because of that silence, which tended to absorb all sound different from himself. The scratch
shoes of the young on the stones seemed the equivalent of thunder and the roar of his feet was like an earthquake that shook the earth to its very foundations hidden and forbidden. It seemed to be completely alone in that grave made of earth.
wandered among those skeletons of a kind now forgotten, brushing occasionally with the bodies of his hand. Most of them broke off and disappeared from the face of that silent world as if it never existed.
was a long time, even knew what Lavi. The landscape was all the same, and only a strange glow coming from the trees low enough to make out to put one foot before the other. Boredom and monotony of all that made each lower level of alertness of the boy, that even he realized that he had stopped at what looked like a clearing. In front of his eyes suddenly and attentive maybe he was scared a skeleton. From the chest made of rotted ribs sticking a branch cruel and ancient, of the same consistency and hardness of marine coral. Winning the anger and disgust, curiosity mounted as a wave in the mind of the boy, who came to touch the sun and empty sockets of the skeleton.
How long have you lived there? He, too, had wandered to the forest? And why was dead with a stick in the chest?
swallowed, and felt the saliva scrape his throat parched by now. The terror experienced during the first race had liquefied the horror of dying there, away from any form of life as he wanted without being able to do anything to fight. He passed his hand on the branch, and only then heard the first sound of that terrible place of nightmare. A deep hum, similar to drums and lost in underground tunnels, which seemed to come from far away, was approaching fast. Lavi stopped, slowly bring your hands against your chest. Could swear to have seen the trees move after the beginning of that requiem so terrible.
And indeed it was. Slow, silent as everything in this world, they were closing in on the boy and the skeleton. Arms stretched out to him that surely mirror that had removed the life to the man with no name, claims branches that glittered in the eyes of many swords Lavi as lethal.
He tried to move, to escape, apparently to escape the deadly trap. But his feet would not obey. Or better ... had simply vanished. And just at that moment he could see, with increasing terror, a mutilation of the skeleton nearby.
was missing toes.
She tried to scream, to reject those lifeless trunks with all the force that could engage in a terrible moment like that. But the vocal cords do not rispondettero the petition, only the arms somehow managed to delay the hour of his death.
" Lavi ... "A subtle caress the base of the neck, a sigh liquid on the skin terribly tense. A flash of golden eyes, and then a sharp pain followed by dark.
" Uh uh. "A figure dressed in a cloak of darkness that had come back that place is bent with white gloves to collect blood from the body by now battered and destroyed the young man had spurted in the wet black earth.
He bathed the index, holding it to his lips with a single fluid move. And then he laughed.
" Who is the next? Nothing, Nowhere, Is You coffin. "The
motionless silence was disturbed only by the dripping blood.
. Finish.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Were Can I Find Nutramax Dogfood
Ego
How should I start? With the usual "Oh my God years that are not in place and not write anything .... "
But let me pleasure. Certainly, the journal not to worry, my updates. Who knows the "place" I hear outside, and then, peace.
A year ago at this time, I was the first "outside". I went out for the first time with my English friends. Not those who already 'knew from Italy, the very people with whom I lived and I saw so sporadically during the week. As I walked home that night ... be 'them' and 'changed everything. While
from the university ', I came home, I received a text message to those who never ever would like to receive. At that and now my night is' totally transformed, and I found myself in front of the computer, trying to console someone too far away from me. So 'many miles away . Only
front of the computer, and absolutely no courage to take that and make a phone call. 'Cause I hear that voice breaking would destroy even more'. One of the few times when we really had to be, but I could not.
One night I would not relive it for the world. I do not want to relive.
I am happy of what 'you're experiencing, and what' you have lived so many days after that night.
Forget you find it again in that state. I'm not.
I love you, twin.
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