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ConstellationsEvery night it was the same; they would lay a towel large enough for the two of them in the backyard, turn off all of the lights and lie down just in time to see the sunset and the stars rise.
Every night he would turn to her, point out a different constellation and tell her the story or legend behind each one. In turn she pointed out unidentified constellations where the stars resembled shapes of events that happened in their past.
Every night they found old, and new, constellations.
CalculationsFor him, everything was carefully calculated. The amount of steps he took to get to class maintained a constant count, and the amount of time allotted for homework was exactly 3 hours, 2 minutes and 29 seconds everyday.
When he attended football games, he predicted exactly where the ball would land before it even peaked. While everyone cheered because of an out for the other team, he sat still as though it were just another moment in life.
For him, all of life was precise to the finest detail.
Even in love, he moved as though every move and detail had a number or letter attached to it.
With You"Every time there's a hypothetical situation, you create a new parallel world. For example, we're at the stop light right now, but in another we could be past it, approaching it, or not even on the road.
"In one world you're driving and I'm a girl, or you're a guy in the passenger seat, or we're both girls or both guys and we're both driving our own trucks." He turned the wheel and accelerated as the light switched to green.
Yeah... and in another world we're together, she thought as conversation fell silent on the highway.
Last OneHe turned to her and asked, "Would you be mine if I were the last guy on Earth?" She thought for a moment before she replied.
"No, you're way before that."
The Corner of First and MainIf you walk down the street one day, and go to the corner of First and Main, you'll find a homeless man sitting against the building with his hands cupped in front of his bent legs as though asking for loose change.
A penny, a nickel, he won't take those. No, not even the quarter or dollar bill that you found three blocks away on your way to work. If you try to hand him those he'll shake his head and say, "I won't take your money, but I'll take your beliefs. What's life to you? What's important, and what's not? I have a question for you, one dressed in a suit. Which is more important, your love or your job? Of two important values, which do you value more: the money that keeps your life steady, or the love that moves it along?"
While pondering that thought he smiles and says, "It's not an answer you'll find right away. This is the kind of question you have to wait for it to come true. Only then will you find what you'll really do."
The twenty that you were saving for that daily morning
Wishful Thinking.There are days her eyes droop and she looks at the ground as he whispers in her ear. "It'll be better in time." And strokes her hair as though all the hurt would simply disappear.
There are days her keyboard stares back at her while a friend talks to her over instant messaging. "This will all be easier in time." In the end, they both know it simply might not.
Then there are days that follow each other, where smiles and laughter are all that she's surrounded by.
And there are days that she wishes he could do the same for days at a time.
Clock IIThere's a clock that sits on the wall, the numbers clear from miles away, the steady ticking sounds audible in even a train crash right next to it.
It's a difficult thing for anyone to ignore, but somehow you're doing an incredibly revolutionary job of avoiding the clock every day.
ClockThe clock on that wall on the other side of the room ticks in my ear, and it's just a constant reminder that the end is just another second closer to arriving. Yet you stand there with oblivion surrounding you, unaware of the impending end.
Maybe you can't hear the clock, and that may as well be my fault for I've never told you that it's mounted on that wall for as long as anyone can remember. On the same argument, maybe it's also your fault for you've never taken the time to consider the existence of the clock that ticks on the other side of the room.
But maybe being aware of the clock just makes all of our problems known.
Sense of SmellWhenever she slid into the bed at one in the morning, he knew she had been on the rooftop; he could smell the night sky on her skin, and the nicotine on her lips. He knew when she snuck out to the library; the smell of slowly molding papers and aged pages stuck on her skin and clothes.
When he caught the smells of packaged microwave popcorn, fresh nail polish, and romantic movies, he knew she had been lazing at a friend's house for the day. Sometimes she came home with floral scents as attachments, and he knew that she had spent an hour too long in the garden section of Wal-Mart again.
She smelled of varying things, from the night to the flowers; her taste, however, remained the same. It would always be her, the nicotine, and the blankets beneath them.
Reader x Karkat: WhateverThe date is December 3rd, 2013.
The time: 5:45 a.m.
Everyone is sleeping, save a human named ___ ___ and a troll named Karkat Vantas.
You happened to be the human mentioned.
And, in fact, Karkat is your best friend!
He's also your crush, not that'd you tell him.
At least, that's what it USED to be. You think you've finally gathered the courage to admit it.
Emphasis on think.
You see, Karkat's been acting odd lately.
His usual 'fuck you' attitude was replaced more with a 'go the fuck away; I don't want to talk to anyone' attitude instead.
And, quite literally, it seemed the only word in his vocabulary lately was 'whatever'.
In all seriousness, no matter what you told him, he either did nothing, let out an artificial grunt, or responded with 'whatever'.
You were beginning to question what that word even meant.
"Karkat?" you poked the sleepy troll's shoulder, and he grunted. "I love you..." you said uncertainly.
He grunted again.
"You know I'm serious, right?"
"Karkat. I lov
Air Vents Clint x ReaderAKA Five times you met Clint in the air vents and one time you didn’t
1 When you first moved into the tower
It was hard to believe it had been almost a week since your cousin Tony called to invite you to stay at his tower. It was even harder to believe that it also housed the Avengers for the time being. Of course you had only met Bruce and Steve, seeing as Thor was back in Asgard and everyone’s favorite assassins were on a mission.
“I wonder why Tony made this air vents so large.” You mused aloud as you easily crawled through them. It was like he was asking for you to sneak into his lab and re-paint his Iron Man glittery pink and glittery purple. You were so deep in thought that you never even noticed that somebody was in front of you until they cleared your throat.
“You must be (y/n).”
“That’s me and I’m guessing that you’re Clint.” You replied smiling at him after blowing a stray
France x Male!Reader [Commission for zoe-chan7][Male Name] [Last Name] was the prince of [Kingdom Name]. He was a rather handsome young man, complete with silky [hair colour] locks and dazzling [eye colour] eyes. He was the son of king Roderich Edelstein and Elizaveta Héderváry. Truth be told, he was adopted by the king and queen of [Kingdom Name]. [Male Name] was adopted when he was roughly ten years of age. Just a young, abandoned child. Roderich and Elizaveta had brought him their family, and brought him of them up as a respectable young man. [Male Name] was now eighteen, and was set to marry.
He was engaged to a princess from the neighbouring kingdom. He had never net her before, but he knew her name. She was Alice Kirkland, a Brit. From what [Male Name] was told, she had blonde hair and dazzling green eyes. He had tried to picture her in his mind for quite some time, but he was unable to conjure up a decent image.
He had never wanted this arranged marriage. As soppy as it sounds, he had wanted to marry out o
Loki x (Deaf)Reader One-Shot
Loki x (Deaf)Reader One-Shot
A Fan-Fiction by ketzle
It took all of your willpower not to scream out in agony. The pain was excruciating. All you knew was something knocked you in the head, hard. Now all you felt was the infliction that was brought upon you. You had never felt anything like it. The pain was like a searing fire that pushed its way through your skull. You knew that you were crying, sobbing even, but you couldn’t hear that. You couldn’t even hear your own voice as you comforted yourself.
You screwed open your eyes to see bodies lying motionlessly around you. Cars were turned over on roads and night lamps were bent in places that were not normal. You tried to pick yourself up, but your body refused to move. So, you just lied there and took in the crystal blue sky.
i am alpha and omegaShe stands up, dizzy and drunk. Wonders when her heels came unstrapped, and grips the glass she's got in her hand tighter than she holds her rosary on sleepless nights. Her vision hazy, she trips over her own twisted ankles trying to stand up and pulls the bottom hem of her dress down because her mother taught her two things: One, a lady never shows her ass in public. Two, a lady only drinks the strongest of whiskeys. That was before she had skipped town to pal around with her new boyfriend that had pockets deeper than Lake Baikal, if you know what I'm saying.
The silence is heavy as she slowly makes her way out of whatever hallway she had found herself in, stepping over someone else's body that's marinated in liquor for only god knows how long. It takes an effort not to tumble down the stairs in her shit-faced state, and she barely makes it out alive. There's a door. Opens it. There's a city outside cast in the glow of a purple sunrise,
You're Special (Egypt x Disabled!Reader)
"H-hello?" you asked when you heard a small knock on the door.
"Yes, room service," a quiet voice said behind the door.
"Come in," you said, getting up and trying to find your crutches. Your leg stump began throbbing as you hopped over to the door, opening it. You smiled as a tanned face made its way into your hotel room, pushing a cart in front of him.
You sighed silently as his eyes slowly crept over to your leg stump, bandaged up.
You got that by a boat accident, where a bratty 14-year-old boy crashed into your tiny boat, also causing slight mental retardness.
And you hated it when people questioned or tried to look at your stump.
You were still human, right?
"Thanks for the room service," you grumbled, now grumpy because his eyes were still on your leg. You hopped over to the bed, sitting on it.
"What happened?" the man asked suddenly.
Your eyes widened at the sudden question. Everybody who questioned your stump would either come up to you and have a slight conversation before slow
All I wanted was toast Thor x Reader It was an early windy Monday morning and you were standing in your kitchen with a large grin plastered on your face. You cradled the reason for your happiness in your hands before placing it on the counter. It was Asgardian toast spread and it was awesome. Thor had gotten you hooked to the stuff about a month ago and ever since then you had to have it every morning. With your smile still present on your face as you placed some bread into the toaster and pushed the handle down. Your smile dimmed though when the bread popped back up.
You pushed down once again but the result was the same. Your lips formed into a mini pout while you grabbed the handle for the third time. You slammed it down with as much force as you could muster and smiled in triumph when the bread stayed down, but that quickly turned into a full pout when you heard the dreaded ‘boing’ only a few seconds later.
“Aw, my toaster
Japan x Fem Reader So Long Part 2“I’m so late,” you yelled as you sprinted across the street, “Mr. Kiku, please still be there!” you bumped into a countless number of people and was almost hit by 3 cars before finally reaching the sakura forest, “Hello, is anyone here?!” you called, “Mr. Kiku please, if you’re there answer me! Kiku, no. This is all my fault.” You fell to your knees and started to cry. You cried for a long time before a hand gently lay on your shoulder.
“_____-san?” you opened your eyes, looked up and there he was, at least you thought it was, it was hard to see through your tears.
“K-Kiku?” he gave a small smile and nodded. You were so overjoyed to see him that you that you hugged him and cried tears of joy “Oh Kiku, I was so scared I’d never see you again. I missed you.” Kiku blushed.
You’re in my personar space again.” You laughed as you slowly
44. Two RoadsTwo roads stood in front of me, both signifying either good or bad. On Memory Lane, the road divides, the dark side tempting me with its dark character, leading me into the terrible memories of my past; the brighter side, the one with the fonder memories pulls me away before I can walk into the deep abyss of my past.
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