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PoT drabbles - outlaws of loveoutlaws of lovePoT drabbles - outlaws of love by aozorastage
| prompt: 002 – love |
we’ve left a trail of broken hearts and homes in our wake, but I know we’ll make it somehow.
warning: yaoi (boy/boy) fluff ahead.
A resounding slap pierced the air.
Kunimitsu turned his head back to face his father, a red handprint mark marring his left cheek. Behind the imposing man stood Kunimitsu’s mother and grandfather, who gazed at him with such vile disappointment that the stoic young lad could feel himself die a little more inside.
“You are not my son,” Kuniharu announced coldly. “I have no love for this unfilial, ill-disciplined son who dares to love another of the same gender! Get out!”
As if snapping out of her trance at those last heart-wrenching words, Ayana rushed forward to clutch at her husband’s arm in protest. “Anata–”
“Do not interfere!” He roared, tearing away from her. He seized Kunimitsu by the scr
PoT drabbles - salutationssalutationsPoT drabbles - salutations by aozorastage
| prompt: 001 - introduction |
their friendship came to be with the help of rambling, chilled water, and their love for tennis.
Jirou watches through the wall of wired metal as the ball rolls across the net and falls on the other side.
"Wow," he breathes, eyes sparkling with delight, "wow."
That was amazing.
"Tightrope-walking," the boy with pink-red hair declares, winking at the unknown boy on the other side. "Genius, no?"
His opponent can only splutter incoherent words in reply.
The redhead wins the match, obviously. No one around here has the skill to beat him.
Marui is called the King of the street tennis courts for a reason, after all.
It's just a pity that his stamina isn't quite as brilliant as his moves.
He breathes harshly as he collapses onto the bench, perspiration dripping from the bangs clinging to his forehead.
A cool sensation is suddenly pressed against his arm before getting taken away just as fast, makin
rainauthor's note: ninety-nine percent of the people who read this story will not read the description below. such a pity.rain by aozorastage
warning: kinda short, bromance (aka guy friendship), heavily tennis-centric, possible errors in usage of tennis terms, mild exaggeration, marked by a teacher and therefore "edited" of sorts, kinda-sorta-maybe cheesy ending.
| I do this just for kicks, just for the thrill
I got this high without taking a pill
This groove has got me way over the sun |
The weather changed so quickly; no one even knew what had hit them.
The fluffy white clouds had been dark and gloomy for a while now, looming over the tennis courts, thunder rumbling ominously in the distance.
A few of the spectators seated on the bleachers gasped with mild surprise when tiny splashes of water landed on the various parts of their uncovered skin. Some peered upwards at the grey-filled sky, murmuring anxiously at the foreboding weather.
The two young men standing across ea
judgementauthor's note: take a few minutes of your time to scroll down and read the description below, please.judgement by aozorastage
warning: angst galore, fairly long, second-person perspective, curses and profanities, hazardous train of thoughts and words, run-on sentences, abuse of dashes, italics and certain words, mostly unedited, kinda-sorta-maybe sucky writing, real life experience.
| Everybody wants to talk about a freak
No one wants to dig that deep
Let me take you u n d e r n e a t h |
You settle down in your seat in the front row, your friends on your left and right.
You were supposed to be the fifth group to present, but instead, all of you decided to be the grand finale, the best saved for the last, so you agreed to switch with the original last group.
Hesitantly, you lightly trace a finger over the smooth sheet of paper in your hand.
You shouldn't have changed your reflection last night.
Now it's so personal, exposing.
You might be laughed at again.
Suggestions and Concrit:HEY EVERYONE! It's a shame I can't make polls, cuz that would have worked so much better...Suggestions and Concrit: by isora683
I have a request for all of you: please comment and leave whatever constructive criticisms you can think of for me.
Basically, I want to improve in my art and my writing, and I LOVE getting you guys' comments. However, sometimes, I feel like it's more the subject matter than my actual art that is getting the love... And I don't mind that at all! It's just that I also want to hear what YOU think would make it better!
So, whether it is any of my writing or whatever pieces of my art you may choose, please, tell me specifically what I can do to improve. I love getting feedback, and I want to hear what my "audience" has to say! ;D (and I put quotes around audience cuz you're really all my friends, actually...)
If you're worried you'll hurt my feelings, then here is how I consider criticisms:
Constructive criticisms will tell me what you like and do not like about a piece of my work (
| Mareep from Pokemon |
Click on Estrella to help her grow!
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"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts..."
Aozora in a nutshell:
Aozora [ah-oh-zoh-rah] | Japanese Romaji: 青空 | - Blue sky.
Stage [steyj] - A space for the performance of theatrical productions.
Just another girl who writes in her free time. Drama dork. Quiet-loud. A
Whimsical mind. Extreme mood-swings. Expect randomness, hyperness and/or emo-ing. Mostly emo-ing. And brooding.
Fairly amiable. Treat me the same way you want me to treat you.
Online friends are certainly welcome. Watchers, commenters, and favouriters are almost like my best friends.
My Peeps (random order):