Sta.sh
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A writers winceHaven’t written in a long time,A writers wince by ~DarlingDetermination
Lost my sense of rhythm and rhyme.
My fingers awkwardly stumble against the keys,
Desperately trying to grasp some sense.
So I pray on my hands in knees,
That something would lift this curse of dense,
Frustrating rut I’ve been in,
It’s as taboo as sin.
For a writer to not be able to simply write,
The words should fly smoother than a kite,
In the big clear blue sky,
Instead they halt and the pen goes dry.
I question the inside parts that carry me,
Review my heart and soul.
They stay quiet or as quiet as my heart and soul can be,
And the response is none to null.
All the times my heart has cried,
Or the times my soul dived to my lowest core.
Have now died,
Packed their bags as they ran for the door.
Left me begging for even a start,
Just to get my thoughts flowing.
Instead they ignored my pitiful pleas,
And escaped me floating through the tallest trees.
I then felt empty,
Like everything that mattered was now gone.
And I silently wondered
La stupidita di darsi ap. Anxious in waiting he drums his tan fingers along the table, nervously waiting for the one who stupidly set this whole 'date' up. He wouldn't admit that it was a date. Oh no, and he certainly would not mention that he had spent two hours earlier to pick the right outfit, only to compromise on the first choice. His finger twitched to reach for the cross necklace he wore, the comfort of holding it important, seeing as the one person he was waiting for was late. And they had begged him, literally pleading with the grumpy Italian to come and hang out with them.La stupidita di darsi ap. by ~DarlingDetermination
He grumbled once more as the waiter eyed him with a raised eyebrow. He growled, looking up,"They'll be here!" He said a little too loudly, in a way too defensive manner that the waiter backed up, arms up in mock surrender as he looked through the choices the quaint diner had on its menu.
"Giuro che appena arriva lo picchio,quel-" Before he could finish cursing
Prussia and the Almighty Cheeto (APH)Title: Prussia and the Almighty CheetoPrussia and the Almighty Cheeto (APH) by ~memheart236925
Rating: T for cursing
Word Count: 490 (This is very, very short xDD)
Prussia and the Almighty Cheeto
It had been an extremely tiring day at work, and so help him, Ludwig was in no mood for teasing. The cold, deserted subways on the way home only echoed his mood, and by the time he was finally home, stamping snow from his boots, he was absolutely ready for an evening of peace.
Prussia, however, leaning casually against the kitchen counter and munching on a bag of Cheetoes, had a different plan in mind.
“Yo, West! Enjoy the workday?”
“Just because you may sit around all day and do as you please...”
“Aw, c'mon, you're no fun.”
“After the sort of things I went through today, I do believe that I have the right to be boring for a while.”
“Who's gonna entertain me?”
“I imagine you could run a circus nonstop for a solid week, what with your seemingly infinite stash of unbearable quip
Just because. 
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