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Would you like

To pull me into pieces?

Do you pick this battle?

I never saw skin

I desired enough

To kill for,

But I have lost sleep

Over lips

I failed to kiss.

I do not like

How people trip over heels

Into romance,

But I fall quickly,

So damn quickly,

I could break my neck.


It is never about the body.

I can’t

Bruise myself

To crawl closer

To a bedmate.

I don’t fight for love.

I dread being a busted soldier

Tossed aside

After placing myself in harm’s -

I mean love’s -



Will always

Throw me under a bus.

My ears burn

When a sweetheart

Enter the room,

But I wouldn’t


Ache for more than companionship.

I am convinced

A rabid beast pulls roughly my heartstrings,

It never learned to be gentle.

I don’t know

How to want

Without hurting.


I meet a soul

And swear

I’ve known them

My whole life.

It makes me bleed. Everywhere.

I do not let myself

Look at the wounds.

I cannot fall too deeply into the cut.

I wouldn’t be able

To pull myself

Back out.

So I fall quickly,

Over and over,

Then I sanitize the scratches.

My own words

Can hurt me the most,

But the sting wakes me up every time.

What is the use

Of suffering love?

Why do we do it?

I could fall for anybody;

But I know

I wouldn’t be enough for anyone

Because I won’t

Hurt myself over and over

For something as plain as love.

If I fall apart,

I might not get back the pieces -

What if someone keeps a few for themselves?

I never share a lover’s secrets,

Perhaps because I have so few.

Or maybe it’s because

I’ve been there myself

With my shattered heart

All over all the news.

I do not know how to love

Without killing what’s in me,

So let me ask again,

“Do you pick this battle?”

You’re gauranteed a win,

But can you deal with the cost

Of all my stitches?

I do not fight for love

So you can take the first punch.

- Shae Sheehan

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“…what are you doing?”

With an expression of utmost solemness, Bokuto set the tiny transfigured wooden boat to sail out onto the waters.

“It’s symbolic,” he said.

“For what,” Iwaizumi asked cautiously.

Bokuto took out his wand and muttered a spell, aiming at the tiny boat.

The tiny boat caught on fire.

“My hopes and dreams.”

– Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament, Chapter 4 (Book 4 of killthespare’s Haikyuu at Hogwarts)

(ermahgawd did it work?? have i figured out how to add these as pictures without sharing from a different site?? hallelujah!)

i’m on a roll so here’s a quote from bokuto this time (just one version tho)! our favorite owl boi :)

tweaked the quote itself a little so it fit better, i just skipped a couple words from the original, nothing big

experimenting with fonts so it’s a little different than the ones before, with some more minimalistic accents (aka i’m avoiding using the splashy things cuz i don’t want all the quotes to look too similar, ya know? the splashy things are great tho, i may be a little obsessed; but they go so well with everything!!)

sidenote: so there weren’t any ravenclaws actually speaking in this quote (first line is suga talking) and the blue is a pretty prominent part of this, so just… pretend it’s the idea of akaashi sitting in the back of bokuto’s head all the time or something (after all, “it’s symbolic”), cuz i feel like he would do that/always be thinking about akaashi in some form or another (haha bokuaka when)

click for better resolution! (sorry if it’s a little hard to read, it took me a while to work out the color contrast so white words would stand out/be legible against a silver-ish background)

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Kara groaned as she leaned further into the couch.  She had her shirt pulled up, showing her six month stomach. With the baby growing, the more uncomfortable she felt in her own skin. And it didn’t matter how loose her shirts were, they felt tight around her skin.

So she opted with lifting her shirts up when she was alone.

Closing her eyes, she sighed as she felt better.

She was almost asleep when something soft landing in her face. Taking the material of her face, Kara looked to see a shirt. Turning her head to the kitchen, she found Querl unpacking the Thai take out. “What’s this?” Kara asked, sitting up so she had a better view of Querl.

“You’re always complaining about how tight your clothes are, so I thought I’d find something baggier for you,” Querl explained without looking up. He smiled slightly when Kara muttered under her breath that she didn’t always complain about her clothes.

Slowly getting up, she made her way to the bathroom to change.

“How’s it feel?” Querl asked as she emerged from the bathroom. Smoothie out the shirt and held it at the bottom of her stomach before releasing it she beamed at Querl.

“Better,” she answered, “though I feel like I’m wearing a dress.”

“You still look beautiful,” Querl said, kissing her cheek. “Hungry?” Kara hummed and they began making their plates ready before getting comfortable on the couch.

“Do you think I could have a back massage after?” Kara asked, after taking a bite of her food.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?” Querl teased. Kara poured and shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I guess we will have to see.”

They finished their dinner and after putting the dirty dishes away, Kara sat comfortably on the couch as Querl began messaging her back.

Within a few minuets, Kara’s breathing began to slow and she was fast asleep. Shaking hero’s head, Querl stood from the couch and gently picked up Kara.

After setting her down on the bed, Querl climbed in beside her and rubbed her back as she slept. Sometimes it was hard to believe that they were going to have a baby, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

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Sid told him many times not to worry about it. He said that some eggs needed more time to hatch than others. That it didn’t diminish his worth. A dragon is born when the rider is ready to tame it, he explained. My father told me that, he quickly grew defensive when he saw the unimpressed look on Eugene’s face. 

Yes, Eugene knew that. His father told him the same thing over and over again. At this point, about to turn eighteen and with so many other boys and girls of his age already riding full grown dragons, he didn’t find comfort in what the future could bring him when the present was so damn frustrating. And it was easy for Sid to talk, considering the dragon egg he was given hatched when he was hardly fifteen.

Keep reading

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i really hope the ending of Heavy in your arms will be satisfying… i don’t know how to achieve the so badly needed catharsis :/

like, it’s a tragedy, basically. i tell you from the start that it’s gonna end badly (and you sort of know how it ends anyway because it’s canon compliant) but you string along for the ride and you get to experience all these nice moments (that inevitably lead to disaster, one after the other…)

and i don’t know. i understand some people might be disappointed, but IT’S LITERALLY ON THE LABEL, JUST READ IT!! i really hope people won’t be disappointed :( 

like, if someone decides along the way that it’s not for them and stops reading, i get that, you do you, but i swear to god if even ONE person reached the end then comments like “aw but why did it end like this? it would have been better with a happy ending” i’m gonna fucking lose it

that’s my main worry!!! i just don’t know how to prevent that from happening! that’s why i need to find the way to phrase the ending in the most satisfying way so that even if it all ends in shit, the readers can still get something out of it.

 i’m not a good writer in that regard, i feel like i often fail to stick the landing and butcher an otherwise good fic :(

anybody got tips for handling a story of this kind? lol

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I don’t know what love is.

    I don’t, I don’t, I don’t.

    But I know what it means to be thinking about you all the time and to see things that remind me of you and to dwell on what might make you happy and what might make you laugh; I know that I miss you when you’re not around and that sometimes I miss you even when I’m at your side –

    I know that I find myself looking at your face to see what you’re thinking and I know that there’s a point to being like this because you’re the same –

    I know that you smile when you turn towards me and that you smile when you talk about me to other people; I know that you trust me to stand by you and support you and even to fight you, if that’s what’s needed –

   I know that we can argue and not fall apart because it’s okay with you, it’s good and it’s safe and –

    And you make me want to be a better person and I hate that, sometimes, because before I met you I was barely interested in being a person; the thought of letting my walls down was terrible and I –

    I have all these feelings now and I still don’t know what love is but I would be lying if I said that I don’t love you.

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HJSLGKDFJ tumblr appreciates cruel irony </3 well writing a lot is a plus!! but i know what u mean about a weird headspace lately i feel like im ALWAYS in a weird headspace very good positive outlook on it though i admire that

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I have been having feelings and thoughts that I should not be having.

I miss you. I would love to talk to you again. I know that I can not. I’m it if the opportunity ever came up. I would just ask you if you are as happy as you used to be but even more.

I hope you say yes. I hope that the life you have now I’d everything that you ever wanted.

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I’m picking up a trend with FaWS (my witcher fic) in the comments n its that ppl say its fun and you know what that’s because I’m having fun when im writing it bb!!

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Ladynoir July 2020 Day 6 - “Rose”



Ladybug frowned as she ducked through the skylight into her own bedroom. Chat followed behind her, his gaze sweeping across the unmade bed underneath his boots and then trailing across the rest of the pink covered walls.

At least the Adrien posters were no longer there. Ladybug breathed a small sigh of relief as she slid down her ladder. She’d removed them not long after Jagged Stone had accidentally broadcast them on live television. His assistant, Penny, had been turned into the akuma “Troublemaker” that day, and Marinette, feeling mortified and a bit guilty for being part of the reason Penny got akumatized, had torn the posters down as soon as everyone left.

“Where’s the akuma?” Chat asked.

Ladybug shrugged, glancing warily around her room. The akumatized victim had been one of the Dupain-Cheng bakery customers. They hadn’t been akumatized over anything the bakers had done—Marinette had noticed them sitting at a table by the front door with barely restrained tears in their eyes long before they even ordered—but they’d still chosen the bakery as the focus of their attack.

Marinette had hid to transform as soon as she saw the telltale purple mask over the victim’s face. When she’d returned to the scene, it appeared that the akuma was gone, but her mother had nervously stammered that the akuma had just turned itself invisible.

Ladybug really hated invisible villains.

She and Chat padded silently across her bedroom floor, listening for anything out of the ordinary. There was no doubt in Ladybug’s mind that Hawkmoth had ordered the victim to go after their Miraculous, so they had to be somewhere nearby. But where?


Ladybug turned at the sound of Chat’s voice behind her. He’d stopped near her desk, and was staring at something just above it. She followed his gaze, and her breath caught in her throat. He’d caught sight of her two roses, one pink and one red, each pressed and tapped up to the wall. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew where at least one of those roses came from.

The pink one had been his gift to Marinette on the day her father got akumatized. She could still recall Chat’s face when he’d offered it to her, his cheeks flushed and green eyes nervously darting around the room.

She knew he still felt bad about what had happened that day, although they’d worked it out in the end.

That was the rose he had to have recognized.

Then there was the red rose. He might not recognize it, but Chat had given her that rose as well. He’d given it to Ladybug that night on the rooftops, when he’d set up a little candlelit dinner for her.

She had to admit, that dinner had probably been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Plus, that was the night she’d realized Chat really did have feelings for her. So she’d kept the rose. She’d pressed it and intended to keep it with her diary, but then she’d gotten the pink one and decided that they would both look much prettier on her wall.

“What?” Ladybug asked, pretending not to know what Chat was thinking.

“I didn’t know she kept it. I mean!” Chat took a step back from the desk, stammering. “It’s nothing. I was just looking at the flowers, that’s all.”

Ladybug raised an amused eyebrow at him as Chat turned away from the wall. His cheeks were bright pink.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Ladybug replied, resisting the urge to smirk. “Let’s try downstairs. I don’t think our akuma’s up here.”

Chat nodded, and with one last glance towards the two roses, he followed her downstairs.

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