breathe, my love, get high hp au, marcus flint/oliver wood 8131 words
Marcus counts the days in the hours he can manage to get through, the hours he can spend avoiding floppy-haired, Scottish Gryffindors who try to follow him with their eyes. He doesn’t want to talk about something that will only leave them both burning and rotting in the end. Something that can never be kept safe. A flame that will only die out in the cold. He spends his nights in bed, whispering the name over and over to himself, the name he has kept hidden in his heart for so long and wants to etch all over his skin–– Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.
notes: this may or may not be the most self-indulgent fic you will ever read in your life, and it’s probably completely ooc and unbelievable and wow i’m not selling this to anyone but yay for flintwood??? yes??? this is dedicated to yenna @owvlery, erin @mxrcusflint and everyone else who makes the beautiful flintwood art/fics/everything that has dragged me into this 6ft hole of cute angsty quidditch boyfriends. (also i stole a line from lolita and managed to reference little mix’s ‘touch’ so u never know what ur going to get with me)(also sufjan stevens was my soundtrack writing this enjoy)
I’m trying to catch smoke, wafting
through the grey. If you watch,
it’ll appear like I’m falling in slow motion.
Desperately trying to grab onto something,
anything. The earth in its entirety,
a tiny blue dot.
Every weekend has a new song playing
somewhere in the corner of my bedroom,
but every one of those songs
remind me of you: us sitting
under a willow in the winter,
you laughing yourself breathless
at something I said about gravity
on the moon, that your worries weigh
a sixth of what they do here.
‘Worries are massless,’ you said.
‘It doesn’t matter what they weigh,
it’ll always be heavier than what you can carry.’
Some days I burn at both ends,
and gosh, I’d give anything to watch you
glow. I’d wipe away the stars from the night sky,
I’d blow the fuse on every house between here
and the end of our beeline. I’ll let the moon
take a night off.
This is everything.
You, me, here where everything has meaning
but nothing really matters unless it’s about you,
or if it can’t make you stay. I’m excited
about nothing and everything and I’m exploding
with galaxies inside me when you say
you want to be here.
This is all that matters.
You in your faded blue t shirt,
talking about the universe.
(And I’m floating in space.)
a single bed room apartment, a cluttered kitchenette, papers crowded over every surface, law books and records of court hearing, whispered kisses in the dark of night while the candle is burning at both ends, girls raised in war who would not settle for injustice, cold cups of coffee passed between warm hands, tired smudges of lipstick, never ever giving up, loyalty and courage and love
Zeki fans: -waited through an angst filled, slow burn romance for the end when both characters would be certain that they loved each other most, and all relish in their timeless
love and happiness in vkm + aidori cuteness- Zeki fans: my cuties! this is the best!! Yumes fans: oh I would be so dissatisfied like
yuuki was with kaname if I were a zeki and waited months for a new
chapter! -meanwhile got nothing for their ship in new chapter- Zeki Fans:
i wanna read or write one of those old school sasuhina fic set in the village with a moody vibe, usually some or LOTS of angst, slow-burn, working through both of their issues, ending up on a dangerous mission together where they must sleep at an inn with only one room and one bed, usually some political intrigue involved with the hyuuga clan…mmm yea one of those…
except i remember almost nothing about the canon-verse and ninja techniques and rules and chakra stuff and blah blah research research research