i tried ok pls


“I don’t… want to.. ruin our friendship…. but.. I–”

when he looks away

huge, huge thank you to by beta best friend for reading this, encouraging me to write more and actually post some of it; and of course @roxanncweasley and @jiilys, my writing idols, for unconciously inspiring me with their own fantastic work;

He’s all you notice at this point.

In class, when your not long ago ‘best friend’ shots a parky comment at him. He wants to talk back, you can see it. He wants to, he needs to defend himself, his friends, those like you. He can’t stand him, it’s clear as day. That vein on his neck is pulsing like crazy. His hands are fists now. He picks his head up and you gasp at the rage in his stare. You sees his eyes shot fast in your direction and in a second they’re soft again and it’s like he suddenly acknowledges he’s in a classroom with twenty other students, all watching him, all expecting the fight. He slowly unscrews his hands and flats them on the desk; they’re trembling. You sigh. His head is lowered again, Remus wispering something rapidly in his ear. He nods in approval, the corners of his mouth twitch. Mr Binns goes on. A few minutes later you catch his eye and, he smiles.

In the library, on a table in the opposite corner of the room, where they’re sitting, trying to dull their laughs as Madam Pince walks by, all staring at a piece of pegament. You can’t really tell from here but it seem like whatever’s on it is moving. Remus is extending a hand and shaking his with a tempered smile that reaches his eyes. Pettigrew is clapping him on the back, grin splattered all over his features. Black grabs his face and mockingly tries to kiss him. He laughs and pushes him away, a sly smile on his lips and she can almost hear him say ‘not here pads, there are people watching! I know I’m so charmingly handsome, but please contain your urges!’. His smile is bigger than his face as he shrugs and explains something to the rest, hands gesticulating as he speaks. There’s so much pride in his eyes he looks like he might just explode. He gases at you and stops talking what looks like midsentence. The others turn around to look at you; Remus waves, Black winks playfully and Pettigrew just shakes his head. His smile doesn’t leave his face as he takes one of Remus’s chocolate bars and throws it at you. You catch it the last second, look at him and smile back. As he returns his attention to the pergament you can swear you see reddness creeping its way towards his face.

On the pitch on a sunny Friday afternoon right after classes while he’s loosening his tie as the eight of you sit on the freshly cut grass, Marlene in Black’s, Sirius’s, he demands, lap. Dorcas pulls out two bottles of vodka her sister mailed her and takes a bold sip from one, trowing the other at Peter. Screw dinner, you think. Screw the rules. Soon everyone is laying in a big mess of tangled legs and arms and hair, laughing at everything and nothing at all, forgetting for a moment. The late april wind blows in his hair, making it even messier than it is, making it look like he’d just shagged, making you want to shag him but really you’re just drunk, you tell yourself. His glasses are crooked and dirty but his eyes are sparkling and his smile is lopsided and he looks like he’s drunk on pure liquid joy, no diluent. You look at his long delicate fingers, knuckles bloody from Tuesday when the Blacks’ family owl delivered Sirius a letter and his fist almost made a hole in the commor room wall. You look at his sneakers, covered in mud as if he’s been running in the Forbidden Forest for two nights straight. You look at his muscles under the rolled sleeves of his shirt, his tan skin, the purple and blue veins underneath. You look at his eyes. They’re looking too. Shit, you think, but his eyes don’t tear from yours and you can’t make yourself look away. He’s all you can see and you both don’t notice that Marlene and Sirius are long gone, probably in the now empty boy dorm doing Merlin knows what or that Mary and Dorcas are kissing and giggling unnoticed a few meters away or that Remus and Peter are now walking around the pitch trying to clear their heads and be at least a little bit responsible. No, all you notice is each other and the stars in his eyes and the flowers in you hair and your love. And sure, it is a little reckless and a little dangerous, and there really isn’t anything, but it’s okay cause you won’t remember it tomorrow morning, right? All of a sudden something bubles inside of you and your smile turns into laughter because how could i be so oblivious and there’s clearly something, there’s everything and you realise why your stomach is always in knots when he’s around and why your troat tightens when he gives you one of his shit eating grins and of course. Of course I’m in love! He’s starts laughing next to you on the hard ground too and your eyes fill themselves with tears as the sunset sky opens and swallows you both.

In the common room, in the little hours, when even the wind is silent, the fireplace is long cold and you’re sitting alone in the armchair next to the window, trembling, thinking how fucked up the world truly is. You hear his tiptoes on the old stone stairs of his dormitory carrying the history of so many other lives before yours. He yawns and stretches his lean arms over his head, but you don’t turn around. You hope he won’t notice you there, that he’ll simply get his forgotten charms essay from the table near the fireplace and go back to bed. ‘Lily!’ you hear him inhale shortly and then… he’s gone. You want him to be but you can’t help feel a little dissapointed after all. You’ve told yourself so many times not to think abot him that way, to accept it’s pointless, that he doesn’t love you anymore, and even if he did what’s the point, it would never work out, not now. But it’s still hard and you know it will always be. You feel a blanket around your shoulders and you abruptly turn around to face him. He’s looking down at you with worry in his eyes and a line between furrowed brows. You open your mouth to say something, anything. ‘Don’t.’ He’s wispering. ‘You don’t have to explain. I know.’ He sighs and sits on the armrest, looking out of the window. You turn back towards it and lean your head on his arm. ‘When did everything become so complicated.’ It’s not a question. More of a statement, an unheard plead for things to go back the way they were, to normal. He signs again, harder this time, louder. He seeks your green, green eyes, stares deep into them, almost like he’s at loss of words. Almost like he’s lost himself in them.

You’re breathless.

Jack is a certified douchebag

     Neil could handle Kevin’s condescending critiques toward his exy’s performance. He could stomach Aaron’s resentful glares and could even deal with hates and sneers from public. But he couldn’t stand anyone shit talked on Andrew. Especially when it was Jack.

     Jack had been in the foxes’ team for months. Most of the foxes could barely stand the sight of him. Jack’s first day being recruited and he already rude to the original foxes.

     He said “I’m not a fag” to Nicky when Nicky greeted him and killed his enthusiastic smile right away.

     "Women should not be the lead of a group. They should stay quietly behind.“ Such an insolent remark almost earned him a backhand from Allison but Renee stepped in front of her just in time. He even dared a daring once-over to Andrew which Neil thought was stupid and brave both at the same time. Thanked to Andrew’s indifferent manner, he didn’t give a shit about it. 

     And Neil, too, had gotten low blows from Jack. He and Sheena, another exy player of Palmetto State University with vulgar mouth, always sneered whenever Neil opened his mouth and snickered at Neil during scrimmages. He snapped at some point but he would calm down later. 

     But that didn’t happen on one Thursday afternoon when Jack had gone beyond the limits. 

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anonymous asked:

why are you learning french of all languages?

parce que j’habite au Canada et le Français est la deuxième langue ici!! je l’ai appris quand j’étais dans l’école jusqu'à la dixième année… donc je connais les bases de la langue et je le comprends quand je l’entends… alors, je pense si je connais quelque de la langue, je devrais continuer avec mon apprentissage et devenir tres bon au parler et comprendre Français!!

can we stop trashing enjolras in e/r
i’m all for monstrous enjolras characterization, but more along the lines of ‘this bar is now only serving molotov cocktails’ instead of being written as verbally abusive

i know the ‘incapable of thought belief life death etc etc’ section is maddening my first thought was ‘mon ange you shot a man like three chapters ago but that will not deter me from punching you in the face’ but people use that scene to justify cruel, horrible enjolras when the context is grantaire harrassing and bullying a waitress on a battlefield completely wasted while the rest of them prepare for war. it’s not as pointlessly harsh as people make it out to be, it’s the last fucking straw.  the revolution is what enjolras has been working towards his whole life, why do people take this line and act like it’s a regular occurrence?  

he’s disdainful, and (ironically h a ha) skeptical of grantaire, and hugo lets us know he’s rebuffed him many times but I don’t see a basis for interpreting him as the kind of guy who delivers an Ego Eviscerating speech for anything less than ‘I’m literally preparing to fight and die while you’re being a useless dick’ hugo says he felt ‘lofty pity’ not ‘you’re the worst and i fucking hate you’

i think it’s pretty obvious from hugo’s earlier drafts that enjolras didn’t expect OFPD (his ’thank you’ holds so much surprise & gratitude) i don’t think enjolras knew and understood the extent of grantaire’s loyalty (i don’t think grantaire did either: ‘without being clearly aware of it, and without any notion of explaining it to himself, he was spellbound––’)

yes, several passages talk about how “sweet” and “tender” he was but that tenderness is also accompanied by sass, bullshit, and melodrama, would you expect sincerity from someone who follows you around saying shit like ‘what marmoreal magnificence?’ unreal

i would think they’re fucking with me, not ‘maybe we’ll die holding hands’ and grantaire offering to help with your revolution when he goes around whistling monarchy tunes to piss you off is like a troll blog offering to help you with your latest politically progressive news article, you’re gonna sideeye the fuck out of it.  why people think enjolras knows how grantaire feels about him when he ‘barely perceived roses, he was oblivious of spring, he did not hear birds sing, etc etc’ and would go out of his way to be cruel even knowing that is beyond me 


ok so hear me out. What if one day Kuroo, a fighter under the shogun, stumbles upon a shrine nearly in ruins and prays for guidance because he’s so fucking lost in the woods and accidentally summons Kenma, the spirit of the forest?????? 

Only You

for: @ayuumae

A/N: uhm i haven’t written anything in a while so im so sorry if this sucks i tried pls dont slander me ok i will get better this is so dumb i uh i gtg

“No, Mark, I’m fine”, you said as you tried to stifle a cough, “There’s no need for you to come over.” 

“Y/N, I can hear how sick you are through the phone. Seriously, it sounds like you’re about to cough up a lung.” 

He was right. Your head was pounding, each cough feeling like it was inching you towards your death. 

“It’s just a little cold, you don’t have to worry! Plus you have prac-”, you coughed so heavily, it actually startled you a little bit. Calming down a bit, you tried to finish your sentence, only to be interrupted by another cough.

“Seriously, I’m coming over.” He hung up. 

You felt about him coming to take care of you. He was always so busy, practicing, putting his best into all his work. It broke your heart to seem him so tired all the time and you never wanted to be a part of the reason for his tiredness. Damn this cold, you thought. If it weren’t for this cold, he could focus on doing other things or even resting, but instead he was downstairs figuring out how to heat up a can of soup.  

Another cough. 

You heard the soft tread of his feet heading to your room. “Mark, you don’t have to check on me every time I-”, more coughing, “-cough.” 

He stepped into your room, a concerned look on his face. You sighed out of exasperation, throwing your head back onto your pillow. 

“Actually, yes I do, but we have a slight problem, Y/N”. His voice was serious as he scratched the back of his neck, brows furrowed.  

You looked up at him, worried about what he was going to say, signaling for him to continue. 

“I, uh, well, I burnt the soup.” 

You couldn’t believe how concerned he had been about burning the soup, you erupted into a laugh that resonated throughout the room. You sat up to try to stop laughing, only to fall back onto your bed in a fit of laughter. Attempting to calm yourself down, you looked back at him, “Mark Lee, how do you burn soup?” 

His eyes began to scrunch up, the ends of his mouth curling upwards, and a giggle erupted from his mouth. He sat down on the bed and began to laugh along with you. The situation in all honesty, wasn’t that funny but neither of you could bring yourself to stop laughing. Finally, you began to sit up, and looked at him, still laughing slightly. 

“I can’t believe you. Only you.”

“Only me,” he repeated, pulling you closer and placing his lips to your forehead. 

send me why you love your biass and i’ll write you a short scenario about them


                   when you fight monsters — it’s at the risk of becoming one yourself

                                                                                                                                                 written by :  rina

devil/angel au headcanon

[part 2: characters]

i need to get this out of my system!!!! also before i forget things

Keep reading

aka the ridiculously long post where i shove all my feelings & months of research stalking into a list and cry. [ includes headcanons bc lbr they’re freaking amazing too ]

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Senpai, any good skk fic to share??

I’ve already made a list here but I’mma add some more because I lurked some more because I’m a thirsty loser but we all know that so

- Anything by tumblr user shizuos tbh. I can’t believe I forgot her last time she’s one of my goddesses but I assume u all seen her in the skk tag so.  



- La vie en rose. Idk what to say abt this fic tbh it’s so…beautiful? The writing is absolutely breathtaking and I was like damn how did you do it. ALSO PLS UPDATE I WOULD SELL MY SOUL I WOULD SELL MY EVERYTHING JUST UPDATE OH MY GO

-The way you said “I love you” Ok I admit I love protective (and thirsty) Dazai so. Yup. HEAVY BREATHING.

Ah… I Think We’re In What They Call A Hate/Love Relationship. So yeah Dazai and Chuuya share a room. Dazai realizes how perfect Chuuya is as he god damn should and it’s cute and it has Tachihara in it so hell yeah. But at this point I’d just recommend checking the author’s profile in general tbh I rec-ed her twice before. 

- Even god was in tears. Rip Chuuya you can never escape from Dazai tbh but it’s ok that’s how I want it to be BUT PLEASE UPDATE WHY WOULD YOU END IT LIKE THAT RIGHT BEFORE I MAYBE POSSIBLY GET THE R18 I DESERVE.


noticed there was a lack of half-naked Marco chasing after Marie in the snow and thought I might try my hand at rectifying that

somebody remind me not to speed draw because what is perspective //lays on floor facedown