a life full of holes

ok but honestly what would i be without bangtan

I’m so happy that our boy with his hair like stars has a birthday on Tanabata

One More Day

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Author’s note: So I wasn’t going to write this because I’m not into mafia!aus but since you’re my first request ever I decided to do it. I hope you enjoy it. (The fic title has nothing to do with the story. I just wrote it while listening to One More Day by Sistar on loop.)


“Mister Min”

Yoongi was snapped out of his reverie to see his men looking at him expectantly and a little bit confused. He realized he had gotten caught up in his thoughts again, this time right in the middle of a briefing. He looked at the photographs lying on the table in front of him, seeing the faces of the men who had presumed to move into his territory. He felt sorry for them, he really did. They were still kids, and in their youthful brashness they thought they could defy him and survive.

“Give them one last warning and if they refuse to leave, get rid of them.” The stupid bastards will probably stand their ground and that will be the end of them. He may feel sorry for them but life doesn’t look kindly to idiots and if he didn’t finish them off another person will, at least he’ll be merciful.

The men nodded their heads in understanding before one of them, Jimin, spoke up, “There is one more thing, boss.” He said then looked at the ground nervously, and just like that a shift seemed to settle heavily in the room. Yoongi waited for Jimin to continue but he didn’t look up. In fact all his men were now uncharacteristically timid, every one of them avoiding his gaze.

“Oh for fuck’s sake” It was Namjoon who finally spoke up, “You all are a bunch of pussies. It’s ___. We’ve lost her.”

“You’ve what!?” Yoongi slapped his hands on the table and stood up. There it was, the reason he had been distracted all day: You, his lovely, delicate wife. Namjoon who was just ridiculing his fellow members was now flinching and shifting discreetly to hide behind Seokjin.

 

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I don’t know a lot about business or making money. I don’t really know a lot about math, never liked it. I don’t know shit about physics or chemie. But I know a lot about people, feelings, poetry, photography or movies. I can make someone smile when they are sad, make people laugh when they are tired. Capture moments otherwise forever gone. I probably will never make a lot of money with it but you know what? I don’t care. I rather see people smile, spent time with me because I am completely myself than to have 5 million on my bank account but spending the summer on a yacht without real friends. Don’t get me wrong of course I want to be rich buy cool things or a big house on the beach but if I had to choose I’d choose a life full of real smiles, captured moments and a hole lot of love.

Carina Noebel

2

Susan awoke suddenly and stood up. She was under a tree, the tree where she’d left Narnia forever. Yet this tree seemed… Realer somehow.
“Susan?” A slightly accented voice asked from behind her. She turned and saw…. Caspian. She hadn’t seen him in so long and he looked just the same. She momentarily thought she must certainly look old to him, but then thought it must be a dream.
“Caspian?” She questioned, allowing herself a smile. “Is this a dream?”
“ ‘Fraid not Su. Turn around.”
Susan would recognize that voice anywhere, even before she turned around.
“Peter?” she whispered faintly. Her eyes filled with tears and she hugged him tight. He seemed realer than before too.
“Susan!” Lucy attacked her with a hug. “Susan, you’re here!”
Susan held Lucy tight. She was alive. Lucy was here. Lucy was full of life, not at the bottom of a cold hole.
She saw Ed last, though he’d been there all along. “Welcome home, sis.” He said pulling her into a hug.
“Welcome to Aslan’s Country.”

Winter holidays were great since we got a chance to play all the video games we missed out on! And frankly, we’re suckers for some good old stuff and resident evil 4 turned out being one of the neatest games ever! Like, so neat, we played it twice!
And maybe half the credit should be given to Leon because I’ve never seen a boy so pretty, fighting off plagued monks and running away from huge stones. 10/10, guys, 10/10.

Glasgow - Reddie Headcannon

Summary: In which Richie wraps Eddie around his finger, and makes him do that shit that he never does….


listen to Glasgow by Catfish & the Bottlemen while you read

——

- Richie and Eddie are in their late twenties

- they haven’t seen each other in years

- they fucking miss the losers club,

- and they were in love with each other, but after pennywise they stopped talking

- they all did

- they moved on and got married, Eddie to his husband and Richie to his wife

- but when Eddie comes back to Derry and bumps into Richie they go right back to their old ways

- Eddie is glad to be away from his hisband because he loves him, at least he thinks he does

- neither of them are happy where they are

- but being with Richie is something else

- it’s as if that hole in his life is full

- he is whole again

- they go to a bar and start talking and get drunk

- and Richie tells Eddie everything, about why he loves Derry and why he never left

- and Eddie is just wrapped around Richie’s finger

- and suddenly he’s doing all kinds of things he would never do, fun things

- and Eddie tells Richie everything, about why he hates Derry and why he left

- but spending a night with Richie in Derry reminds Eddie of everything he forgot, all the things about Derry there are to love

- and he becomes aware that it wasn’t the town that he hated, or the people, it was his mother

- the town was what kept him sane

- the people were what kept him alive

- all Richie wants is to go back to high school, to when they were so close and Eddie was almost his

- and Eddie just has Richie wrapped around his finger

- and the moment when they’re walking down the street and Richie pisses Eddie off and he won’t talk to him until Richie just scoops Eddie up into his arms in the middle of the street is when they just both realize

- and the moment when their song comes on in the bar, and they’re just starting to get tipsy, and before they know they’re standing on the barstools singing to anyone who will listen… and that’s when they just both realize

- this is it

Is Quigley Quagmire a liar?

Every self-respecting Snicket fan has entertained the theory of a deceiving, villainous Quigley Quagmire at least once. In honor of this cherished tradition, the Snicket Sleuth is now proud to present a variation on this idea.

The character is suspicious and mysterious; however, it’s not that easy an accusation to prove. Quigley has numerous occasions to betray the Baudelaire orphans throughout the story and doesn’t seize them. And, although the stories he tells them about his life after the Quagmire fire are full of holes, his allegations are largely confirmed by other characters (Kit Snicket, Captain Widdershins, etc).

More reasonably, we can therefore assume that Quigley is not a liar per se. He could, however, be guilty of retaining important information from people who need it the most. He may have a variety of motives, but he seems to do it mostly out of shame. Quigley’s past actions may indeed have (unwillingly) caused Jacques Snicket’s death. Let’s start our trial after the cut.

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Opinions?

————————————————————————————-

  • It was not the accident that gave me humility, it was the Ancient One’s teachings and going through a rigid training. 
  • Mordo isn’t my sidekick, I was his sidekick. 
  • Mordo wasn’t exasperated, I was exasperated.
  • Christine is not my girlfriend. 
  • Christine is not exasperated, she was worried.
  • I’m not a genius, I’m someone who studied very hard and who deserved everything I conquered.

Those memes are full of holes. People just…banalized my entire life to compare me with another guy because of the facial hair.

Zutara Week 2017, Day 7: Starlight

@zutaraweek 2017, Day 7: Starlight

This morphed into something more angsty than the original version of this idea…If I have time, I might write a happier starlight-themed thing, but for now, have a serving of pain, if you please. There are hints of Kataang and Maiko in here because it’s meant to be set in the “canon” universe, but I decided not to tag the other two ships…especially because I know it’s Kataang Week right now too, and I want to be respectful.

This is another one I have vague ideas to turn into an actual full AU divergence fic one day, but for now, just a one-shot.

Summary: Katara comforts Zuko after the death of Iroh.

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11647131


Dimness had fallen over the courtyard, the deep night sky casting blue light against the warm glow of torches and shimmering across the surface of the turtleduck pond. Katara could see him sitting at the edge – the Fire Lord, still and silent and staring at something she could not see. Zuko.

“You’ve been out here for hours…” she started, he voice gentle and prodding. (Are you okay? goes the line, the natural course, but Zuko was not okay – words weren’t necessary to figure that out.)

No response came. No response was needed.

The grass was soft as her knees hit the ground beside him, one hand tentatively resting on his back. She could feel the knotted tension in his muscles and the way their strain gave way to her touch in silent acceptance, though his eyes never left the rippling surface of the pond. Katara watched as the starlight stretched and twisted around the turtleducks, shimmering and settling and swirling again.

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Across the Galaxy


Not even one month had passed since college started, but Oikawa was already (figuratively) wishing for the sweet release of death. The amount of work he had to do was insane, and he had to work his ass off to keep up. That meant getting up early to finish the reading he still had to do for his classes (which started insanely early in the morning), pouring all his free time into doing coursework, and pulling all-nighters to finish papers or assignments.

Balancing school and his love for volleybal was difficult, but Oikawa knew he wouldn’t survive college without his favourite hobby. Besides, giving his all in training helped him manage the stress that was always tugging at him, even if it meant having to spend time on coursework that he normally would’ve used to catch up on sleep.

Despite that his life was full enough as it was, there was one big gaping hole he couldn’t fill, and the pain that it was causing was devouring him from the inside out.

Iwaizumi.

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2

YA LIT MEME: ( 9 | 10 ) series or books — The Walled City by Ryan Graudin

“My life has been full of these small things. Clothes without holes. Boots that fit. My first real mattress. Chma lounging in sun slants and dust motes. New, not-molding books. Bowls of rice porridge every morning. Classes with chalkboards. Dai rumpling my hair every time he sees me and talking about how long it’s getting. My sister smiling again. The small things add up.”

A mouse (or several) gets into Q branch. 00Q please but who starts screaming like a wimp and jumps on the table is up to you! Thank you! – anon

Ehehe, I had fun. Jen.

It was almost inevitable.

Q-branch were not known for hygiene, cleanliness, or common sense. The cleaners had long since abandoned them – they felt it something of a waste of time, especially when they were yelled at perpetually for moving things a quarter of an inch, even if there were coffee stains the size of Spain – and so Q-branch had fallen into disrepair somewhat. Especially the workshop.

“… I think we might have a problem,” R reported. “Things have been… chewed on, a bit. I think the mice are back.”

Which was quite an achievement, given that rat poison had been placed more or less everywhere. Tenacious little buggers.

Q sighed. “Alright then, we’re going to have to scale things up a notch. I want full scanning in here, life signs registered and every single hole that they could get through documented and filled as required.”

R nodded, and went off the delegate the not-very-exciting task to one of the lesser minions.

Things were certainly in hand, at least.

Of course, nobody could have anticipated Bond’s response:

“Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck is that doing in here,” he yelped – yes, yelped – and scrambled away at high speed, straight onto Q’s desk. “This is a fucking government facility, how is it even possible that you…”

“… we’re more or less below water level, and this place is extremely old,” Q pointed out, smirking. “Of course we have vermin issues. It’s being dealt with, though. Where did you see it?”

It just ran over my fucking foot.”

One of the minions glanced up. “Oh excellent – which direction did it run in?”

Bond mutely pointed a finger. The minion smiled happily, and returned to whatever in the hell he was doing with a device containing a wide and imaginative array of colours. It beeped. Bond was still mostly paralysed.

“… so I’m guessing you’re scared of mice?” Q asked, not bothering to contain his still very active smirk. Bond’s lethal glare was doing nothing to dilute it. “Really? You’re one of the highest ranking secret agents in the UK, and you’re scared of mice?”

Bond’s glare was stellar. “I’m allowed to have fears, am I not?” he asked rhetorically; he seemed to finally be moving from his paralytic fear-induced state, “and yes. Mice are not my favourite things in the world, especially when they’re unexpected.”

Q’s smirk finally developed into an all-out snort of laughter. “Superb,” he grinned. “This is hilarious, you realise? And is probably going viral already?”

“I will kill anybody who distributes this information,” Bond growled. And meant it, judging by his expression.

(one of the minions sank deeper into her chair, and tried very hard to disappear).

“You can probably get off the table now.”

Bond looked at Q for a long moment.

Slowly, he sank down back to the floor.

The moment he hit the ground, he all but sprinted out of the workshop, leaving Q and the minions to burst into cackling laughter.

That’s what life is, pretty much: full of holes and tangles and ways to get stuck. Uncomfortable and itchy. A present you never asked for, never wanted, never chose. A present you’re supposed to be excited to wear, day after day, even when you’d rather stay in bed and do nothing.
—  Lauren Oliver, Vanishing Girls
Still

genre: angst, romance, marriage, divorce
characters: reader and namjoon, bts
word count: 1777

summary:

You want the divorce. Your marriage is not the same. You don’t think he loves you anymore. This is the right thing to do…right?

Part 1//

Part 2  Different

The days following Y/N’s departure from their shared life were much more painful than she could’ve imagine it would be. At first, she tried treating the situation as normal, ‘cause to her, Namjoon had abandoned her long ago before her request for the actual separation.

But everything was different.

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Learn A Few Things

Writer: @everybirdfellsilent

Rating: K

Trigger Warning(s): None

Summary: After getting community service for speeding while driving away from the worst breakup of her life, Katniss was full of holes, battered and bruised, the emptiness she felt something she settled for, the new normal.

That was, until she reported for her first day at the soup kitchen, and met the ragtag group in the same boat she was in, and she finally began to find the missing pieces she had been looking for, each and every one a welcome sight.

A/N: I hope you like it!


Hunger.

Something so primal, and yet a necessity.

An urge, a need, a want, one can hunger for many things in many ways.

Not necessarily a hole in one’s stomach, but a hole in one’s heart. One’s soul. One’s life.

A vacancy that suddenly lets itself be known through pangs, painful, loud, and intrusive. It’s the one thing we cannot push away for very long - like dust bunnies, it just collects under every subconscious surface it can find, oozing out when you finally feel you’ve met some other urge.

“Sure that hole in your heart is full, but what about your soul?”

“You just ate, but man you’re lonely.”

“I’ve fed everything I can, what is left that I need?”

Your list goes on and on, the battle likewise.

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