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CowardIt hurts to see others hurt, dying faster
'Cause I wonder about their parade
And then it's about more than volunteer hours
I want to become a ghost and fade
So I can run away and join the circus
But suddenly I want to pack everything
Or maybe I just think I do when really
I'm afraid when the minebirds don't sing
They're actually wheezing, choking slowly
So they can collect their own feathers
Is it really the cricket speaking now?
Or is it my refusal to let the world spin
When I want, without really knowing how,
To make the sun rise west with the wind
So we can unknowingly live in a parallel
I may value my skin more than much
But I'm still too coward to give a push
The Art of DeductionThis afternoon, while on my 5:02 coffee run, I ran into an old friend whom I had met at my cousin's second wedding. He was an accountant and had helped me with my taxes quite a few years ago.
"Hullo, Mitchell!" I greeted.
"Hey, Jack, ol' buddy! How are you doing?"
"Not bad," I replied as we sat down at a table outside the café. "I can see you're quite well off."
"You're damn right I am," he said, flashing a grin.
"Congratulations on your promotion. I see you're ― what, president of your accounting firm?"
Mitchell chuckled good-naturedly. "You're doing it again, Jack. How do you know these things?"
I laughed lightly. "It's not sorcery or anything." I took another gulp of coffee. "The style of the suit you're wearing, it has only been out since a few weeks, and it is mightily expensive. You could have simply gotten a raise, but I know you to be a cheaper man than most ― no offence ―so you would have saved that money. No, you have been promoted, which has instigated
RememberThere was a knock on the door.
They were four, slow, steady, but crisp knocks. No one she knew in the Home knocked like that - all the staff had urgent, impatient knocks, claiming to be willing to attend to you but truthfully simply wanting to hastily finish their jobs do that they could go home and have their family dinners, their family games.
She rose slowly, but refused to use the cane parked next to her sofa. Waddling towards the plastic door - how very much she missed her childhood wooden ones, that occasionally gave out squawks - she leaned on the door latch, arthritic pain shooting up in her knuckles.
Giving the latch a push, the door swung easily inwards next to her, and she stood there, still leaning against the wall and squinting at her visitor.
He was an equally old man, horrendously humpbacked from his days working for the WWIII, and his wrinkled face became even more so as his eyes lit up with happiness. He seemed to stand up straighter, as straight as he could, and held
The Creature of ModernIt's when fleshy orbs leak like faucets
and when they itch like bee stings
It's when armour reeks of odours
and without, still reek too
It's when parasites have their meal
after a long hibernation
It's when people go to burn themselves
before jumping into urinated seas
It's when the wrath of summer comes
that the creature of modern flees.
FingersI wish you wouldn't
hold my fingers and caress
them, only to cut them off
one by one when you find
its bumps and cracks
I would rather that
you cut off my fingers
and later carefully replaced
them with prosthetics, with
every single blemish painted on
I would never cut off
any of your fingers
except for the one
scratching at mine's
scars and bumps
What you just don't see
is that it's hurting you more
than it's hurting me
when you cut off three fingers
just to point at me
like I'm the one who can't count
up to or past three.
Nakeddo not be the glove and hand
be not the one with two skins
show us how bitten your nails, and
how sleek and nimble your fingers
do not show but a sewn up sight
be not hidden in pristine suits
lest when undonning all for the fight
that then will they betn't for you
FirstHelen sat in her sofa lengthwise, curled up in a soft brown blanket, a cup of tea in one hand and an iPad in the other, watching forgotten movies under the inky-blue sky in the window. Nights had become much quieter these days and she, alone in the living room, found time for idle activities such as rewatching home videos of her daughter.
The first video had been of her daughter's birth. Now that she saw the newborn through different eyes ― her husband's, in fact ― she realised how repulsive it seemed. When she had seen her daughter herself at first, thought, she had instead seen the most beautiful being she had ever encountered, a baby that was to her no longer a mistake but a blessing.
She had named her Chance.
Helen had been careful not to be too protective of her daughter: she had her own experiences with an overbearing mother, and Helen was determined not to have her daughter need to fight for her won freedom. She had her own doubts at times, of course, like when Chanc
An Absent IdWhat is it like, to not desire?
To quench the mind of its endless fire?
What is it like, to not feel envy?
To not want more, with already plenty?
What is it like, to have all I need?
To life's complications pay no heed?
What is it like, to last be pleased?
To see no setbacks with nothing to seize?
What is it like, to not have wants?
Am I still human without these haunts?
Levi AckermanxReader-In Love With a Stripper (Au)
It was your twenty-fourth birthday, and you'd decided to spend it all alone. Well, mostly alone. Your best friend Hange said something about coming over later that night. She said she had a present, but you weren't exactly interested in whatever it would turn out to be. every year Hange always did something really stupid for your birthday that usually ended with empty bank accounts, parking tickets, hangovers, and one hell of a case of food poisoning. She'd promised that this year's surprise was a 'real hoot'.
Reluctantly, you slithered out of bed, throwing on an old pair of black skinny jeans, a grey tank top, and a much too large sweat shirt that read 'Linked Horizon'. You began to wonder more and more about Hange's 'surprise' as you applied your makeup and pulled your hair up into a semi- messy bun. Despite your sudden curiosity, there wasn't really any point in guessing. Hange was unpredictable except when it came to...
"Please? I'll pay you way more than you'd get
Thank you .:RomanoxReader:.
How many years have I known him? How many times have we laughed and smiled? Will he remember me? I doubt it, but I won’t give up!
You look at the photo of you and your dear Italian friend and a tear fell from your eye as you remembered the day that picture was taken. Spain had been wanting you two take a photo because, as he said, you two were the cutest kids he has ever seen. So you smiled brightly as your long (h/c) hair framed your small face that still had some baby fat on your cheeks while Romano refused to smile while puffing out his cheeks while you wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep him by your side while Spain took the photo. It seemed like such a long time ago; it had been years since you two had to be separated and forced never to speak to each other again. Before you knew it several tears were streaming down your face as the memory of that day came to your mind.
“Romano! Romano! Where are you?” You called, looking around for your best friend. It w
Blind!Levi x Reader- Overcast (AU) You sighed as you closed the front door of your apartment behind yourself, stepping into the cold winter air. A scarf was wrapped loosely around your neck. Light grey mittens covered your increasingly freezing hands. You knew it already. This was going to be another day doing boring things at your boring job with boring people with boring interests who had extremely boring conversations about there equally as boring lives. With all your heart. It was 2025 you wished that something would change.
And that day...something did.
As you sluggishly walked to work, you saw a man with midnight black hair standing across the street which was bustling with traffic. You felt something cold hit your face. Your gaze moved to the sky, which had miraculously been covered by a thick layer of nearly white clouds. Small snowflakes began to fall and land on your jacket. You were genuinely surprised. Although it was winter...snow hadn't been in the forecast. Shaking off your
DenmarkXReader: Late Night Chats
King Mathias Køhler:
You should be sleeping.
(E/c) orbs glared at the blue and white screen. (Name) ignored the message from her arch nemesis that she assumed would be boasting of all his “King of the North” glory. The last thing the lass wanted was to hear or read all of his egotistic comments in the worst day of her life.
King Mathias Køhler:
It is impolite to ignore the King, (Name)!
With a tap of a pointer finger, the message was removed from the screen and (Name) continued to disregard him whilst she scrolled through her newsfeed.
King Mathias Køhler:
King Mathias Køhler:
(Name)~ His majesty demands his servant to reply!
King Mathias Køhler:
King Mathias Køhler:
(Name)! I know you’re online!
King Mathias Køhler:
(Name) even though you’ve turned off your availability, you must make time for the king!
Levi X Titan!Reader Chapter 13 A young boy with raven hair was walking along the smooth cobblestone path, a small smile on his face when he spotted a girl with (EYE COLOUR) eyes. She was waving at him, and when he got close enough she ran to him. ''Hey guess what! I found something really interesting!'' she practically bounced around him in excitement and the boy said ''what?'' before being dragged off by the girl, eventually leading to a small forest just outside of the village they lived in. They stopped at some bushes and she quietly moved it to the side, revealing a resting doe with her fawn. ''look~'' she smiled and the boy stared in awe for a minute ''....they're really pretty'' she said softly and his response was ''yeah...but I think you're more pretty'' she giggled and kissed his cheek....but then the happy scene died out and was replaced by another....
The same boy was sat on the same cobblestone path, with havoc and wreckage surrounding him as he held the same girl in his a
Star Trek~ Steve x Reader"Let me see your list."
"You know, your list!" You exclaimed.
Steve pulled out his tiny notebook and handed it to you. You flipped through it and squeaked, "I know what we're doing tonight, dear!" You gave your boyfriend a loving kiss on the nose and he asked, "What, dear?"
"You'll see," you sang out and skipped out of the room.
Steve had went down to Stark Tower to talk to Tony about some designs and whatnot. He came home to you sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket.
"Hey sweetheart, what are you doing?" He asked as he gave you a sweet kiss. You smiled and replied, "Just waiting for you, hot stuff."
Steve let out a low chuckle and set down his backpack he wore when he rode his motorcycle, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Really? You didn't have to wait up for me."
"But I wanted to. Plus, I have something to show you."
You turned on the tv and went through Netflix, finding what you wanted and playing it.
"What is this?"
Levi Ackerman x Reader- A Little Help (Lemon)Oh god...The way he was looking at you...his eyes were perfect...his skin was perfect...his hair was perfect. He was absolutely positively perfect. And you, you were without a doubt in love with the man. Although his temper may not be the best and his attitude was...well...you loved him...and you'd gladly admit that...to everyone except for him. However, because you loved him so, his words that day pierced your hard deeper than you would have thought possible.
"(Name) do you think you could help me sneak someone into my room tonight?" He had whispered that in your ear whilst you were eating lunch. It was all that you could do not to drop the cup you held tightly in your hands. You loved him...and you would do anything to be of assistance to him...
"Thanks. I really owe you, (Name). Meet me a little ways down the hall from my room at one a.m. got it?"
"Yes, sir...I mean Levi." You had yet again forgotten that you were the same rank, which ruined formalities. "And...don't mention
Markiplier x Reader: Comfort MeIt had been a long day and you were exhausted. It had been a bad day at the cafe for you and you were not in the mood to deal with anyone, much less your mother and father, who decided to pay you a visit after you had gotten after work. You only frowned at them when they had greeted you. After two years, they had decided to show their faces to you.
Two years ago, you were kicked out of the house because you had decided to become a game programmer, when your parents wanted you to become a doctor. You didn't want that. You LOVED video games, you loved everything about video games and you had been wanting to create your own games.
When you had told your parents of you decision, they packed up your things and kicked you out of the house. Luckily for you....you were taken in by someone you thought you would never meet.
You had been trekking your way through California when you ran into Markiplier and seeing your state of dress and such, he had offered to let you stay at his plac
Sherlock/Reader: HomeThe sense of joy that overwhelmed you only made you run faster, throwing the flat's door open.
"Sherlock!" you cried, bounding up the steps. You were out of breath by the time you reached your destination.
"Sherly, I've...I'm..." you trailed off, the sight before you silencing you.
Sherlock, your Sherlock, with someone else...?
The gasp that escaped your own mouth was barely audible over the moans of the other two.
They both parted from their make-out session, staring lovingly into each others eyes, just before the detective noticed you in the doorway, barely holding back tears.
"I-I'm sorry. I should have knocked...I...I just..."
The woman finally got off of his lap, turning to look at you, too.
You didn't take the time to figure out who it was before you retreated with an unseen speed down to the door.
You faintly heard Sherlock calling after you, but you ignored him as you exited the building, and into the rain.
The weather matched your mood, and it was a perfect opportunity
How to Bake a CakeStage One Entering High School
1. Meet someone who loves cake.
2. Become close friends with them.
3. Promise them that you'll give them a cake on every birthday.
Stage Two Grade Eight
Ingredients: a teeny cupcake; a lot of candles; a blindfold; something ridiculous; lots of friends who can sing.
1. In the middle of a classroom, place a cupcake with as many lit candles as possible stuck on it on a desk.
2. Fill the classroom with your friends, and lead them blindfolded into the room.
3. As you remove the blindfold, get everybody to sing "Happy Birthday" as loudly as they can.
4. Purposely get something harmless lit on fire.
5. Extinguish it with something ridiculous (e.g. a wig, someone else's gym strip, etc.)
6. Retell the story every year.
Stage Three Grade Nine
Ingredients: a way to burn something (e.g. a stove); something safe to burn; a dirty shoe; soap; clay.
1. In the morning, make yourself smell like smoke and smea
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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