sobbing as i write

A Broken Promise

For Chrobinweek2017, Day 7: Vows


Origin Peak.

After leaving Mount Prism at the top of their speed, they finally reached the place into which everything began.

Where everything would end, one way or another.

Ever since the Awakening, fear had been creeping into Robin’s heart, slowly covering her mind much like a spiderweb she couldn’t free herself of. It was an idea that had sprung up in her head after hearing what the Divine Dragon had said, and now it rang inside her head with increasing  strain, making it throb.

Said Dragon spoke to them in their minds, her ethereal body almost see-through due to the darkness the Fell Dragon emanated around the earth. “Remember, Awakener. The power I gave you cannot destroy Grima.”

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I hate the fact that someone else gets to know all of your secrets now.
—  🖤
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God!”     / with formal ending in Korean/
Jesus!” / with formal ending in Korean/ 
Hallelujah!” 
(Jooheon breaks into laughter)
*finally can guess it correctly after Papa Shownu comes to the rescue*
feat. Shownu back-hugs Kihyun

3

i used to be a little boy, so old in my shoes. and what i choose is my choice, what’s a boy supposed to do? the killer in me is the killer in you, my love. i send a smile over to you, the killer in me is the killer in you, i send a smile over to you…

A man enters an office supply store. He was a mere mortal seconds before, but as he passes through the door he becomes a customer. His superior gaze drifts across his domain and settles on the cashier. 

“Do you sell stamps?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say,” However-”

“I want one.”

However, we sell them only in sets of ten.”

“But I want one.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t sell you a single stamp.”

“Can’t you just…” He (skillfully) mimicks the act of ripping apart paper. 

Clearly, I have never thought of this. My simple mind grapples with the idea. I realize I am dealing with a genius, and yet, I regretfully inform him, “Sorry. They come on stickersheets, and anyways, the barcode–”

“Well that’s just rubbish,” he informs me. He is right. I realize this now. His genius ignites a spark within me. 

“You are right,” I tell him as I take fifteen sheets of stamps into my hands and begin to tear them apart. I type 0,019 stamps and press a non-existent key on the register. I hold out a quarter of a stamp to the customer (with a smile), but he shakes his head (without a smile). I rip apart all the stamps I can find, desperate to please him, for he has gifted this humble store with his presence. From the pieces, I begin to assemble a perfect, custom-made stamp. It is worth exactly 66,66€. I single-handedly reprogramme not only my cash desk, but the entire system. It can now scan any stamp in (or out of) existence. It is raining stamps. I am smiling.

Two hours later, it is done. Beaming, and covered in the torn remains of hundreds of unfortunate stamps, I hold the perfect stamp out to The Customer. He accepts it. I rejoice. It might just be my high fever and blurry gaze, but I think the right corner of his mouth moved upwards for exactly half a second. I am blessed. 

He licks the stamp and slaps it onto a letter. He wants to lend a pen. I lend him a pen. When he is done, he holds the letter out to me expectantly. He does not say a word, my silent angel, but I can tell what he wants. Thus is our connection. There is nothing, I assure you, nothing I would have rather done than to accept his letter, on my knees, with tears of gratitude streaming down my cheeks… But alas: 

“I want to send the letter,” my dear customer finally says, after the silence has stretched into infinity and back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir,” I say with a polite smile, brushing stamps off my shoulders, “We don’t accept mail. We only sell stamps.” 

After all, you can’t make exceptions to a well-established rule in the workplace. 

The customer doesn’t bat an eyelash. “That’s okay,” he says with a disarming smile. “I wouldn’t ask the impossible of you.” 

As he turns to walk away, a single tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it off with a stamp that wears his majestic face, hand-stitched by me. 

I don’t tell him there’s a mailbox around the corner.

(That’s not my job.) 

its weird how fanfic writers manage to take two heroic, noble, intriguing, GOOD characters and pair them together romantically, but still place them in all sorts of angsty situations in order to carry out successful, entertaining plots and headcanons…… but….. SG canon writers…. can’t relate…… 

yoongi holding onto jimin’s shoulders w/his eyes half closed, tired (and slightly tipsy), mumbling nonsense to jimin as they return to their hotel late at night, when one of the hotel workers giggles and whispers, “cute couple,” as they pass by. they both grin and yoongi laughs softly, letting his hands travel down to jimin’s waist before he nuzzles and kisses his neck. “jimin-ah,” he coos, “you hear that? we’re a cute couple.”

I miss possessive!Remus, alright?

  • Remus’ stared, expressionless, at Caleb Brice.
  • Well, Caleb Brice’s hand to be more precise.
  • His hand that was dangerously low on Sirius’ back, palm pressed just over the curve of his arse.
  • It made Remus’ blood boil.
  • He stayed motionless at his desk, however, staring over the rim of his cauldron as Brice attempted to help Sirius get potion ingredients - apparently that included touching Sirius in his opinion
  • And Sirius wasn’t squirming - but Remus couldn’t be mad about that. Sirius had always been rather oblivious about people hitting on him.
  • So, Remus supposed, it was his job to keep it from happening.
  • And he was pushing back from his Potion’s station, crossing to the store cupboard in long strides until he was right behind the two. He just caught the end of what Brice was saying.
  • “-I know all about dragon’s blood… I could… show you sometime, y’know…” He was smirking suggestively, hand sinking lower and lower, “Maybe you come to the common room… show you what us Ravenclaws are made of-“
  • “Nothing he couldn’t find in a book.” Remus interrupted, his hand closed tightly around Brice’s wrist, rendering his hand motionless and making Brice’s eyes go wide at the surprisingly strong grip. Their eyes connected, Remus’ staying hard and narrowed, “Don’t you agree, Caleb?”
  • “Wh.. What?” The Ravenclaw stuttered, caught off guard.
  • Sirius stood there, smirking knowingly at Remus, sliding away from Caleb’s hand and pressing into Remus’ side.
  • “The dragon’s blood.” Remus continued, raising an eyebrow, “Most likely in the library.”
  • “Well… Well, yeah.”
  • “Good, I’m glad you agree.” Remus started backing up, tugging Sirius with him, “No need for this little one-on-one meet and greet, then.”
  • And with that, he turned with a smirk, leading Sirius out of the classroom just as Slughorn opened his mouth to tell them class was over.
  • Sirius was pressing right up to Remus’ side as they walked the second they were out of earshot,
  • “Jealous, are we?”
  • Remus just kept walking, “Oblivious, are we?”
  • And then Sirius was tugging them around a corner into a deserted hallway, hidden from view, pressing Remus into the wall. He had to tilt onto his tiptoes a bit to keep their lips almost brushing, “Says who?” He breathed.
  • Remus rolled his eyes, “Oh please. He was all over you, Pads. Breathing down your neck, with his hand..” His eyes narrowed pressing his palm over the place where Brice’s hand had been. In doing so he pressed their bodies together making Sirius’ breath catch.
  • “You didn’t even catch what he was saying?” Remus said lowly, their foreheads touching now, “What did you think, he was inviting you to his common room for a cup of tea?”
  • But the smirk was yet to be wiped from Sirius’ face, “Who says I didn’t know exactly what he was saying?” Remus felt his fingers move down to his waist and under the hem of his shirt, thumbs drawing circles on his hips, “Maybe… I just wanted to see you come stop it..”
  • And then Remus’s eyes were widening in realization and suddenly Sirius was the one pinned against the wall, Remus towering over him, “You little faker..” Remus’ hands slide down, smoothing over Sirius’ arse and squeezing lightly.
  • Sirius bit his lip, eyes glazing over slightly, his body leaning towards Remus on its own.
  • Remus’ hand tightened on Sirius’ hip, the other one still on his back, fingers spread, “You were flirting on purpose, were you?” He grazed his lips over Sirius’ cheek by his ear.
  • Sirius’ hand caught against the wall, keeping himself upright, “I know what it does to you..” He breathed, “I love what it does to you.”
  • Remus just shakes his head, “You git.”
  • And Sirius is just smirking against Remus’ mouth, “C’mon, Re…” His  teeth graze Remus’ bottom lip, “You know you want to remind me whose I am..”
  • And Remus is growling softly in his throat and pressing his lips hotly to Sirius’, pressing their bodies close together.
  • And Sirius just smiles into the kiss because the old flirting trick never fails to bring out this side of Remus- a side that he can’t get enough of.
archiveofourown.org
Your True Name Is - Chapter 1 - Araminthe_Ispwitch - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Rating:

Pairing/s: Yagi Toshinori/Midoriya Inko

Summary:

Midoriya Izuku was just your average teenage boy. Born Quirkless in a world full of Quirks, but an average teenage boy nonetheless. His parents made sure of that.

And that was good.

After all, if All Might’s enemies found out he had a son…

I fucking went and did it. I wrote the Secret Child AU that the people from @harunnn‘s fanart post encouraged–tempted–me to write. God, I’m so fucking weak for this. OTL 

(But tbh, I actually blame @athanatosora for this AU.)

Also available on FFNet.

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so right before I left Italy @ufficiosulretro @replica-004 @temple-secrets surprised me with these lovely drawings of my Overwatch OC Trish Danvers and Jack enjoying some time together in Rome ;o;

THEY ARE SO PRETTY THAT I STARED AT THEM ALL WAY BACK TO IRELAND

thank you so much again, my friends <3

Domestic Drabbles - 2: Blanket Pirates

Presenting part 2 of Domestic Drabbles: A Series (:

This one was also inspired by a conversation with @bharatanatyamandballet!

And the BIGGEST shout-out to my support and beta, @baz-n-simon (:

UPDATE: The amazing @dancingwdinosaurs has created a wonderful piece of art inspired by this fic! Go check it and follow her and show her all the amazing love she deserves!


Simon

Baz is a sharp bloke, and I don’t mean because of his fangs. He’s smart and studious, values his education, and takes classes at Uni every weekday. He comes over most days, but only after he studies, and he only stays the night when he doesn’t have class the next morning. Which is why I think it’s strange that this morning, a Tuesday, I wake up to find him sleeping peacefully next to me.

“Baz,” I say, rather loudly. I nudge him in the arm, and his skin feels like icicles.

He doesn’t move. If I were anyone else, I would think that he’s dead. Which, I guess, he is. Dead, I mean. Or undead. Or both.

Baz,” I say again, quieter. “Wake up.” I push him on his shoulder this time. More icicles.

“Hn…” He stirs and groans, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Wha’s it, Simon?”

Baz’s voice in the morning is always deep and raspy, and he calls me Simon instead of Snow. It was like this even when we were at Watford. And I realize that it’s always been something that I liked.

“Don’t you have class, Baz?” I ask, softer than before.

He peeks one eye open, but immediately scrunches it closed it when the sunlight hits him, and he pulls the blanket over his head.

“…’m s…ping.”

“What?”

He rolls over to face me and pulls the blanket down just below his eyes.

“I said, I’m skipping.” And then he pulls the blanket right back up again.

I smile. Baz is also very grumpy in the morning, but less like a bridge troll and more like a five-year old child pouting.

“What about your classes?” I try to pull the blanket away from his face, but he holds onto it. “Don’t you have a test today? Won’t you fail?”

He snorts and pulls part of the blanket away from his face, only leaving one eye covered. “I never fail.”

I laugh. “You look like a pirate.”

He smiles briefly, then frowns, and pulls the blanket back over his face again. “I just want to go back to sleep, Snow.”

I roll my eyes and swing my legs off the bed. When I start to get up, I’m startled briefly by Baz’s icy grip around my wrist.

“Where are you going?” His eyes are peeking out from the blanket again.

“You said you wanted to sleep?”

He lets go of my wrist and pats the spot on the bed where I was laying. “Stay.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“I’m cold.”

“Baz.”

He pats the bed again. “Let’s stay in bed for a few more hours.”

I grin. “The Baz Pitch? Wanting to cuddle?”

Baz furrows his eyebrows and hides his face again. “Nevermind,” he says grumpily, pushing his icy hand at my arm. “Go away.”

I laugh and grab his hand. It’s soft, even with his cold skin.

“I’m going to find a snack,” I say. “And then I’ll come back to bed.”

Baz just groans and rolls over.

When I come back from the kitchen, Baz is already asleep again. The curtains are closed, and his head is peeking out from the blanket. And he’s hogging the entire thing.

I crawl across the bed next to him. I try tugging part of the blanket away, but Baz has a death grip.

“Baz.” I touch his arm gently. “Will you let go of the blanket?”

He shifts slightly and mumbles.  “…when I get my cuddles, Snow.”


(1)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9) - (ao3)

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@the-flame-and-hawks-eye a day late ahhhh ;A; Congrats on the two year anniversary of Hellbound, Shay!!! I pretty much get heart palpitations every time I see an update, mostly fearing for what torture for the characters you had thought up and hoping the chapter will never end sadasfSADAFASFSA!!!! The angst and cliffhangers you come up with hurts so much but ILOVEIT!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING SUCH AN AMAZING FIC SHAY!!! <333 

Mischievous Hugs, touken fanfic

Summary: The Aogiri kids share an enjoyable afternoon playing with Touka and Kaneki at the park, until one of the kids decides to give them a punishment.

Rating: Cute, fluffy! | Words: 2,612 words | If you like it, please reblog!

A/N: what a shitty title oh my god hello everyone! I made a post asking to vote three touken prompts that I was planning to write this week. Surprisingly, the aogiri+touken kids was the winner! so here it is. It’s a bit short, I was planning to write it as a headcanon instead but it turned out to be a bit longer, I was running out of ideas and I’m not sure if this is good enough, but it was fun to write anyway. 

thank you all for voting the fic and don’t worry if the one you wanted didn’t win, i will be writing those very soon! excuse any grammar mistakes&enjoy! <3

Preview:

“You have to hug Onii-chan for ten seconds!”

Kaneki coughs, touching the back of his head.

“W-What?”

One of the boys drags the girl by the arm, trying to stop her.

“I told you this was a bad id—”

“You have to hug!” she ignores her friend and walks towards Touka, pushing her from the back against Kaneki.

“A-Ah! Wait!”

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