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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.
America x Reader-My Heroine
It was just another day at the world conference, Arthur and Francis fought, Ivan would follow Yao around and tell him to "become one" while Matthew remained unnoticed. That was until they heard footsteps running through the hall. The door burst open, and revealed a laughing (y/n). She looked around and quickly hid under the table.
"Aiyah!, (y/n) may I ask what on Earth you are doing?"
"Ohonhon did you come to see me?"
"Shut it frog! She's obviously hiding from someone or something and- wait a tick isn't that Alfred's jacket?"
"Fufufu~ and why are laughing so much (y/n)?"
You giggled to yourself," Shhh! You guys are going to give away my hiding place!"
Everyone was confused and before they could speak up, they heard footsteps becoming louder and louder. The doors swung open and there stood Alfred.
"(Y/N)!!! I'll get you for this! No one steals the hero's jacket or my glasses!" You leaped from your hiding place and stood tall on the table.
"Haha citizen! I am the heroine now!" you tried
Supernatural - Castiel X ReaderYou stared at the dress in front of you. It was the night of your Aunties wedding party, A very special day for her and your entire family. The dress was cream colored and reached up to your thighs. It was a really simple yet pretty dress, But you weren't sure if you could pull it off. You were no natural beauty (Or so you thought), You never had been even from a younger age. But tonight, you were going to try and be the prettiest girl at the party. It was your goal.
You grabbed a flowery head band which you wrapped around the bun in your (H/C) hair. As for makeup, you put a little lip gloss on your lips to give them a little shine and some mascara and eye shadow around your (E/C) eye's making them stand out. As you looked in the mirror, You felt good about yourself. You did look nice for once. I guess You Tube tutorials really help! The outfit seemed to come together well. It was simple, but delicate and pretty. ( Here is the outfit http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=119537787 )
(Name) (LastName), otherwise known as the manifestation of (Country), was an extremely independent lass. She did not need anyone to babysit her. Every day, the (h/c) girl woke up at around 6:30 am and her entire house was spotless by 8:15 am. She was always 8 minutes early for World Meetings and she got all paper work done a day prior to submission. The rare and only times she had ever been late was when her car broke down or that time when her alarm clock failed to rouse her with its piercing rings.
Mathias Køhler, otherwise known as the manifestation of Denmark, was inconsistent when it came to independence. Every morning, you’ll find his cream hand hitting the snooze once the alarm was set off. The household he lived with four other Nordic nations, was kept in order thanks to the Swedish nation (also by himself when he was in the mood.) He was always either 5 or 10 minutes late for World Meetings, blaming his fellow housemates f
Photoshoot - Eren x reader (Actor!AU) "(Y/n), what are you doing?" I hear Krista ask me, and I move my phone from in front of my face, looking up and the blonde haired girl.
"Um, the floor is actually quite comfortable?" I try, and she smiles at me.
"Have you forgotten the photoshoot today?" She questions, and I bolt up, hitting my forehead against hers, hard.
"Sorry!" I shout as I run around my room, grabbing and using things like my hairbrush and perfume, already dressed.
"Come on, let's go!" Krista grabs my bag and pulls me to the front door of where everyone is staying.
"The cab is waiting, hurry up!" Sasha calls out to us down the corridor, and the three of us bolt down the stairs to where the taxi is, a bunch of other ones already gone.
"We're not dressing up as bunnies, eggs and chicks, right?" I ask, stretching.
"No. But I think that we are going to do an easter-y shoot." Krista tells me, and Sasha nods.
"We get chocolate eggs after!" She grins, clearly salivati
Golden Proposal - Hetalia x Reader
“Somebody shoot me now; I’m a Playboy Easter Bunny!”
Multicolored eggs strewn across the gigantic yard.
Enough candy and chocolate to last a lifetime.
Complete with Fluffy Bunny ears.
You touched the bunny ears you were wearing. “Tell me how I ended up like this again?”
You looked at the tacky egg print dress; not to mention there was a bushy bunny tail right at your rump. ‘Ugh’
“Seriously how did I even end up in this!? I look ridiculous!”
‘I’m a Playboy Bunny crossed with crude Easter decorations’
“Don’t be such a sourpuss _____! This dress accentuates your breasts” You nearly facepalmed. “Remember: just show him your breasts!” Ukraine beamed.
“Thanks Katyusha but I really don’t feel comfortable with this dress-” You walked to the mirror stumbling on your chocolate brown stiletto heels.
You looked at your makeup and hairstyle. “-WHA
BBC!Mycroft x reader (BM challenge)
55. Everyone was dancing, but me.
It's not a fairytale, when a man from across the room offers you his hand for a dance. It doesn't matter how sharply he's dressed or his manners. It doesn't matter how his compliments make you blush and look away, or that he's the perfect gentleman.
Sometimes you only wondered if he'd ever let you dance. To play the part of his companion at these events was in your job description as Mycroft's personal assistant, sure. But would he ever take you to a place you didn't have to follow his predetermined script every single time?
"Would you like to dance? I just realized I have yet to ask you."
Your eyes light up as if Sherlock was given a triple homicide, and you took his hand. It didn't matter the type of dance or the music, for Mycroft all that mattered was that he could now put on a show for a minister of someplace who was in charge of something you would never care to look up.
But for you, all that mattered was that dance. You finally but your arm cand
BBC!Moriarty x reader (BM challenge)
185. Reality leaves a horrible taste sometimes
"He's a psychopath who was only using you! Can't you see that? He just wanted to get to me-"
"Why does it always have to be about you, Sherlock? Why do you always have to break the girl's heart?"
"Why do you only fall for sociopaths?"
You turned away from him, but knew it was true. Attracted to the danger and the odd like Watson, but relying on emotions like nobody else surrounded you did.
"It's love, Sherlock."
"I never said it wasn't."
186. Your rumpled sheets.
Your sheets were twisted around your body, and you knew Moriarty was already gone as you woke up. Why would he stay around? You found his clothes gone as you got dressed in your bedroom, then strode down the stairs.
"I will destroy you for trying to poison me and ruin my-!"
Moriarty stopped midway from his rant as he saw you. He then gave a dismissive smile to you before frowning at his burnt pancakes he was attempting to cook.
187. One foot in the water.
Mini-Drabble: Kurloz x Reader: Save Me, Silly! (Name) was walking along in the park when Cronus Ampora walked up, pinning her near a tree.
"Hey doll~ Wvanna havwe some fun?" he said, slowly trailing his hands down to her ass.
"Get the everloving fuck away from me, perv!" (Name) said, slapping his hands away.
As she was about to scream rape and call for help, a siren was hear, quickly approaching. It was Kurloz, running this way with police lights on his head. He kicked Cronus in the crown jewels and tossed her over his shoulders, absconding.
'Are you motherfucking alright, lil mama?' he signed quickly.
"Yes, Loz. I'm fine. About time you freaking saved me, silly," she giggled, slapping his arm.
Kurloz and (Name) spent the rest of their time wearing flower crowns and drawing and building pillow forts and cuddling.
A Moment Kept Forever (Armin x Reader)Armin and (Name) had known each other for a long time since kindergarten. They live in the same neighborhood and therefore they enrolled in the same schools in the area. It was on one school day when they first officially met. After classes when (Name) was waiting for her mother to pick her up, an old man came to the playground where all the kindergarten students played while waiting for their guardians. The old man seemed to scan through the scattered children of the area, trying to find one particular boy among the many energetic bodies racing around him. Not being able to see where he is, he decided to ask a little girl who was sitting under the shade of a tree.
“Hello there. Have you seen my grandson, Armin? I can’t seem to find him around here at all.” The old man said politely.
(Name) shook her head. “No, but I can ask Ral-sensei where he is.”
“That is very nice of you. And also, could you please find him and tell him that his grandfather is wa
95. Advertisment"Heart for Sale," the ad shouted. "Complete with baggage. In need of serious repair," it screamed.
I'm sure with that type of advertising, his heart would never be wanted. I mean, who would want to love a heart in such dire disrepair?
Evidently me because, for some reason, this is one advertisment I'm going for.
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More