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SO RUDE

ivan/alf trash 5ever

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Only after horrors.

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Shizuo and Celty moments » requested by tsubakaz

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originally drawn for valentines day, but life got in the way. ah well, i’m still glad i finished this!

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Yes. And I can, frankly because countries have relations with every country. (x)

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fic: i don't blame you for being you (prologue/?)

durarara | shizuo/izaya | wip

prompt from kink-meme: Shizuo and Izaya break up after a long term relationship. You know how some people eat chocolates and cry, or go to a bar and get drunk to get through a break up? Well Izaya and Shizuo express themselves in different ways. Shizuo's fuse is shorter than ever, and Izaya turns over a new level of cruelty in his trolling.

Therefore, Shinra, Celty and whoever else you want to add hatch a plan to get the two back together, for the good of Ikkebukuro, Japan, and possibly the world.

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i don't blame you for being you (but you can't help me from hating it)

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Shizuo and Izaya were not what you could call an ideal couple. For a start, they didn't do the lovey-dovey things couples usually do; they did not hold hands under the desk or whispered sweet nothings to each other's ears. In fact, at first glance, most wouldn't even be able to tell that they were dating; many would even go so far as to say that they hated each other. But the thing was, after closer inspection, one would decide that their relationship actually worked. People say the most important things are the smallest gestures, and that was what Shizuo and Izaya’s relationship was all about. The way Izaya looked at Shizuo’s empty table every morning when he put the blond's favorite milk before said blond arrived at school; the way Shizuo stood protectively closer to Izaya whenever a large guy walked past them; the way they looked at each other when they thought no one else was looking, affection and a touch of fondness underlying their gaze. It was these little things—the lingering touches, the yearning looks—that made it work. But big things are important, too, and they didn't really do well with the big things. They argued on a lot of trivial things and never talked about their problems. Izaya liked to troll (for a lack of better words) with Shizuo too much, and Shizuo was just too dense to see that sometimes Izaya did those pranks just to get his attention. It was a vicious cycle, really. They turned more violent with each prank, more hateful and hurtful, dancing the masochism tango like there was no tomorrow. They broke up and made up, once, then they broke up again and made up again. Then, they broke up and made up again. Broke up, and made up—broke up, and made up. Wash, rinse, repeat. And then, they broke up. But never made up. That was two days ago. -

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APH. Stretching reminder!

*stretch stretch stretch*

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✄

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prompt: touch

ouran high school host club | kyouya/haruhi, canonical twins/haruhi, tamaki/haruhi | one shot

“She’s ours!”

“No! Daughter is always her father’s!”

Haruhi Fujioka was at lost. She was being pulled from one side to another, the “one side” being the Hitachiin twins Kaoru and Hikaru, while “the other side” was none other than her ever-dramatic senior Tamaki. She was once again dragged unwillingly into a game of tug-of-war; she did not actually have anything against the game, but when her role was the tug, it was another story altogether.

Before she could protest, though, she was being pulled into a hug by the twins, again. Hikaru gripped her arm and pulled her, and she was thrown into his chest, head first. She could then feel two arms encircling her, one of Hikaru and one of Kaoru. Kaoru’s other hand was also placed on her shoulder.

“Haruhi is ours! She’s our toy!!” The twins retorted in unison, and she silently sighed into Hikaru’s chest. Not again…

But if there was one thing she learned from her experience with the Host Club, it is that they just wouldn’t listen. Another jolt and she could feel her body being pulled to the other side. Tamaki put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her, making her lose her balance and she found the back of her head rest on Tamaki’s broad chest. With his right arm still hugging her tightly, he pumped his left fist to the air.

“No! She’s my daughter, so therefore she’s mine!!”

This time, she couldn’t fight the urge to close her eyes and sigh; so she did. Hope this won’t last as long as before… she didn’t know why, but when there were no customers yet, the fight to get her rooting for a side—either the twins’ or Tamaki’s—had become increasingly (and annoyingly) more often. This nuisance had also become longer and longer; the last time it lasted for an hour or so. Today, they had ‘only’ been doing this for 20 minutes, but there was no sign that it would stop soon, either…

“Ahem.”

Ah, yes. Today, Kyouya was not late, as he had been lately since he started working part time at the Ootori company...

Tamaki quickly dropped his grip as if she was on fire, and Haruhi once again sighed, though this time in relief. The twins also backed off, but the three of them shared a glare that clearly screamed, this isn’t finished. Before anything could happen, she walked away from the scene and approached Kyouya.

She couldn't stop the smile from gracing her feature. “Thank you, Kyouya-senpai.”

The end of his lips curved upwards, and for Kyouya Ootori, that may very well be a full grin. “You’re welcome.”

She beamed. She did not know why, but the simple fact that Kyouya was smiling at her made her heart fluttered in happiness. With a smile still on her face, she walked pass him.

And she stopped.

She could feel a hand gently pat her head once.

Her breath hitched when she realized who did it—Kyouya. She quickly turned at him questioningly, and he said, “Thank you for your patience.”

Her heart skipped a beat—the normal, simple touch from him sent shivers down her spine; the feeling of his skin on her was like a jolt of electricity, and she was paralyzed, unable to move, as warmth crept up her face. She instinctively tried to lean into his touch, but he had put his hand back to his side a long time ago and was now walking away from her, back facing her. She felt her heart beat faster and louder she could practically hear it—it went thump, thump, thump inside her chest and her face felt warm and she could do nothing except to look blankly—

“Haruhi! The customers are coming!”

It was Kaoru, and when she turned to look for him, he was standing beside a smiling Tamaki. It was one of the wonders of the Host Club—one second they would be having a fight, but blink and you would find them laughing at each other as if nothing had happened.

She smiled, but Kyouya raised his eyebrow at her. She may not realize it, but she turned to see Kaoru a tad too fast—as if she was trying to avoid looking at him at all. Was she mad?

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Chocolate-Vengers for Valentine ;9

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