yoomir

≺ ;♔ ≻ it was difficult to as much as so fathom the weather at a late night hour – cold and breezy and not the good kind. it was dark and snow was descending from the stars, falling and kissing the earth, blanketing the meadows of it with white and cold. even through her layers and layers of warm clothes, of sweaters and coats and mitts and scarves, the vexatious draft had managed to sip past them, sending obvious shivers down her spine, to her hips, to their legs and knees. ( she finds it unfair that he wasn’t at all as cold as she was. ) and he’d notice ( he always did ) her subtle trembling, her slig

≺ ;♔ ≻ as far as usual routines go, it was everyday that she found herself sitting on a bench, waiting, always waiting for the same person for every single day. it was always outside of her school’s gym, the squeaking of sneakers and thuds like thunder claps hitting, skin on volleyball, as training continued to stretch. ( she was the wind ; steady and flowing and uncontainable. it does not stop for anything, does not stop in general. often unseen but always felt, strong to make things bow but feeble to make things sway. ) there were times when she fell asleep in wait, the cold, harsh air kissing her cheek and moving

“I love you.” It didn’t matter how many times he’s heard it, it still sent fluttering ribbons of electricity every single time he did. Those three mere words never failed to send him onto his feet and jump around as if he had been victorious in something, before calming himself down. “I love you.” The first time he’s heard it made him feel as if his heart was going to shatter his rib cage, to escape its confines and descend onto the floor as a heaping pool of a myriad of emotions. He felt the same way he always did whenever he received in volleyball, whenever he’d save the ball after getting

You never did like the fact that you had a crush – no – were in love with your school’s resident heartthrob. Ever since first year, you were assigned to the same class as he was, until second, until third year, you felt like the person assigning classes was laughing at you. Consequences had it, that you were there to witness his personality first hand, everyday from the beginning of high school, until then that you were a few months until you graduate. Many times had you brushed your feelings for the boy off, saying that it was merely a passing crush because he was naturally charismatic, handsome and eye catching. That prov

“[First name]…? Can I… kiss you?” The drop of the teasing honorific made you shudder; of all the times he’d stolen kisses from you, they were either abrupt that you had no choice or forceful that you kissed him just to make him stop. Something about this time, something that was unknown to you, made you nod in the slightest. As his lips touched yours, both of you felt a jolt of electricity coursing through your spines, something neither of you felt before. This, you thought, was what a kiss was supposed to feel like. It felt like summer and winter were having tea under a tree shade; it felt like good and bad we

This was it – you had spent three sleepless nights trying to compose the perfect love letter. You thought it was pretty silly to have a crush on a first year, being a third year yourself. Though at that moment, you thought it didn’t matter. You didn’t want to ask anyone for advice since you were more than embarrassed, you didn’t actually want anyone to be informed of your crush for a tall, slightly frightening first year. Gathering up the courage, you stopped him in his tracks as he was a few meters to where he was headed, presumably the gym, and catching the perfect situation as he wasn’t walking with the tiny

Words on your homework papers started to make no sense to you; while you were bright in class, you did not, in any way, enjoy the thought of studying. Maybe your homeroom wasn’t the best place to study – it was noisy and your classmates were boisterous; you should’ve gone to the library instead even if food wasn’t allowed inside. Was lunch really worth it? You guessed it wasn’t. The food you had eaten doesn’t even deserve to be called lunch, it was more of a petty snack than a full meal. To distract yourself from your hunger to resume studying, you silently and secretly opened a small pack of gum, hoping

Cop!Sousuke x Fem!Reader Word count: 5, 521 It was dark and cold, the smallest flakes of snow sticking to the glass of her car, its wind shield wipers furiously swaying left and right. Her booted foot stepped on the gas as hard as she could, all the while the engine roaring amidst the quiet, still night. Her right hand left the steering wheel to readjust the rear mirror, glancing at the all too familiar red and blue lights flashing just behind her. Whether of excitement or of thrill, it was unknown to her why she grinned at the sight of the chase. Yet in an attempt to shake the police off, she made a sharp turn to her right, the wheels of h

Cold snow fell from the dark sky, one by one. Each one hit the ground with gentle pace, as if each of the flakes that float never had a worry in the world. The air stunk of heavy decomposition, lifeless bodies lay in every corner of the once lively streets of Trost, faces of people she never knew, never talked to. Yet a heavy burden fell upon her shoulders and chest, feeling the emotion of substantial loss, even if she never knew these people. Gentle as she was, she was akin to a delicate flower. Quite unfit for the military and was almost out of place wherever she went. Her name fell on every man's lips and in every woman's thoughts. "[Firs

You were on your tiptoes, even if you were given averagely tall, you could not reach the top of the Christmas Tree still. Grunting in deafeat, you sat down on the nearest chair and put your hand on your chin, thinking of a way to get to the top parts of the tree. A plan bubbled in your mind as you looked back at the chair you were sat down on, and stood up. As you placed a hand on the back rest of the chair, you noted it was a little wobbly, unstable even. Could it be safe if you stood on it? Well as long as you won't move too much, you guessed it would be fine. The legs of the chairs made scraping sounds as you pulled it near the tree. Giv