#I’ve set up a little spot in the fandom and I plan to keep at it here it’s very nice and cozy and funny and warm

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[toffeelemon]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

thank you @wilmonsfolklore for tagging me! 🫶🏼

How many works do you have on Ao3?

32 (that i didn’t orphan👀)

What's your total Ao3 word count?

366,979

What fandoms do you write for?

young royals baby! every now and then i’ll get into a fever dream for other media but yr is my constant

Top five fics by kudos

and they were roommates

royal pains

alex ayúdame

only fools rush in

worst kept secret in history

(i’m glad roommates is the highest because that’s what i’m most proud of. the rest were my entry to yr fics but i believe i have evolved since then!)

Do you respond to comments?

YES! please always leave me comments i love comments

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

lmao i famously don’t write angst. i wrote roommates right after a break up so that was a little rough but. i fixed it all with a timeskip so

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

they all do!!! i have never written a Happily Ever After though, i like the kind of beginning of a happy ending - like yr in canon. the 10 year time skip fic for my rwrb and yr crossover might be the closest to Endgame i’ve ever written?

Do you get hate on fics?

the princess wille AU is - sometimes divisive… rarely directly in my line of sight but i do see some Takes about it, to each their own i guess since it’s so personal to me

Do you write smut?

i surprise myself every time…

Craziest crossover:

i wrote a genderbent yr - first kill AU sksk that had to be my nichest work

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes and i revived my wattpad to call out some teenagers ripping off my yr fics. the most mindboggling thing was that they were responding to comments like they wrote it too

Have you ever had a fic translated?

YES! and they were roommates and worst kept secret in history is translated in brazilian portuguese !! every now and then i want to work on chinese translations for my own fics/ others but never got around to it

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

recently fell into writing bits and bobs for @prince-simon newest dead boy detectives fics! i love their writing sm i did try to weasel into their fics many a times, i’m so blessed to get to persuade my fave writer to give me what i want heheheh

All time favourite ship?

wilmon of course but i’d say that malec from shadowhunters set up the blueprint for me. i always enjoy reading firstprince because great fics are aplenty

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

started a s1 divergence fic when i was in a pretty dark spot in which wille’s mental health plummets and they have to navigate a healthy supportive friendship before wille could be good enough for himself and simon again. i think it could slap but writing it put me in such bad place so i doubt i will finish what i started

What are your writing strengths?

i didn’t notice until other people pointed it out but apparently i jump across POVs pretty seamlessly! i have always written stream of consciousness swapping POVs - i consume and love visual media way more than books so my head is pretty much in a very visual screenwriting/sceneblocking mode and every POV swap is like. a camera angle change to me

What are your writing weaknesses?

TENSES💀 writing in present tense is such a saving grace for me. logically i know i’m fluent in english but i have a lot of “english as second language student” trauma so i try to keep it simple and straightforward. also pingpong brain traits i don’t like having writing plans so sometimes i do lose the plot, struggle with continuity or forget about key themes and scenes and get mad about it

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

love-hate sksk my favourite scenario is if the translation is immediately available (but not disruptive somehow). i tend to forget by the time i reach the author’s note in the end. it’s more fun when it’s a language i have a basic grasp on so maybe i should just suck it up

(biggest pet peeve is if it’s another language romanised - it’s basically gibberish to native speakers i’m sorry😭)

First fandom you wrote in?

youtube rpf… on wattpad…

Favourite fic you've written?

there’s so many but. princess wille the manifestation of my own self you will always be famous x

tagging @prince-simon @aro-of-artemis @ungaroyals

[thepaintedsable]

Warrior OCs REDRAW

More warriors stuff >:)

Artwork and Explanation below!

This is something I had done between the years of 2017 to 2019. I honestly could not tell you where or when. I wasn’t really good at keeping track of or dating my artworks/sketchbooks, so I’m basing this off of the ages of the characters and the quality of art.

This is when I had been neck deep in the Warrior Cats fandom for the very first time, and had my main totally rad not-a-Mary-Sue totally original character: HiddenPelt. Big, muscled, lightning-striped mama who apparently liked to eat snakes in particular. I’d used her NON STOP back then (being kind of a really weird, really rude kid, not gonna lie. Couple of regrets from back then.), but she isn’t actually depicted in this piece! These are two of her kittens that had been conceived in an old roleplay I was in. I couldn’t be normal, so these were two of SIX babies she had that I tried to play as all at once lmfao. That’s actually one of the more fond memories I have, especially for everyone tolerating me.

CricketPaw and ???Paw are at a training clearing, and Cricket gets some revenge. This is one of the FIRST fully colored, “large” scenes I had done that was not forced upon me. This piece singlehandedly kickstarted the little colored warriors comics I’d continue to do (most were never posted).

In 2021, I got a wild hair and decided it was fine time to redraw that old mess to see how I’d improved. This time with my new medium of choice, alcohol markers, and equipped with far more drawing experience, I redrew the two!

I can definitely say I’d done something right it making them look like they’d been fighting. I was highly focused on the characters over the background: making them the right size, giving them funky fur colors and more natural patterns, more dynamic poses, showing full bodies, actually shading, showing the mouthes, giving actual expression! But, the background was very lacking. Foreground leaves come out of nowhere, strange shading, the tree leaves are in the wrong spot, gaping hole in the right tree instead of a knot, the bushes just hide endless liminal field space, and there’s even a cheeky little circle+rays sun haha.

Finally, TODAY! I chose to do it with watercolors on a square sheet of paper, because each time I’ve done this I’ve chosen my preferred/most comfortable finished-art medium at the time.

This time, I was going FULL background focus. Setting up the trees properly, making the grass form around things, putting leaves where they’re actually supposed to be, having at least a few more bushes in the background, adding interest to the sky, etc.

After that was done, I set the characters inside. No, i did not thumbnail or plan like I probably should have. I didn’t do it with the prior two, so it wasn’t happening for this one either. This is just for fun and planning makes me bored. I do miss the second one’s pose for ???Paw, but CricketPaw, my beloved son, is looking as sassy as ever and I’m living for it. He meant to claw his rat faced sister, and he will do it again. Additionally, I made the choice to place a third character watching over their training so it isn’t just two apprentices who wandered off. Probably their brother, so it’s actually three apprentices who wandered off, but I promise this one is responsible actually.

I’d like to say I’ve improved, yeah? :)

Weird to think I came from drawing jelly beans with noodle limbs to what I do now. And hopefully in the next two years I’ll be able to upgrade upon myself once again!

Also, I’m thinking about doing some Clan Gen stuff in my scene style! I’ve been playing around with it a bit on the browser version, and I ended up having JUST ONE couple produce, like, 11 kittens in total, and then each of those kittens producing kittens or just bringing home kittypets and loners so the clan was HILARIOUSLY LARGE.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Tis the season I suppose, idk why but I’ve been so productive lately with writing. I can’t believe I’ve been finishing fics! I’m all set with the winter solstice event, just finished the first draft of the otp prompts, shared the next chapter of the sibling verse with vordark my beloved, and added another scene to devour even though I said it might be done. That’s honestly the only one I’m iffy about right now, I do think this is a good spot to end it but I almost feel like something’s missing? But that’s kinda the whole point. Cause this isn’t supposed to be a normal lots of love happily ever after. It’s a plethora of emotions, like yes they stay together but at what cost? And was there ever really a choice? But how could there even be another option when they’ve proven time and time again their love is true? Idk I’ll sit on it for a little bit.

Really my only ongoing WIPs at this point are midnights and the sibling verse. The former I should write more of since I’ve only written the first three chapters. The latter I’ve low key been updating weekly, but it’s been so easy to do. I just need time to sit and write it since all the planning for the major things are done.

This burst of energy is making me ambitious and wondering if I can maybe tackle some works that’s I’ve been dreaming of but never thought I could pull off… decisions decisions

I have a poll in my drafts that I plan to also post as a new work on ao3 for 24 hours. I just have so many ideas and I want to get to them but it’s just so impossible. Plus I kinda really want to work on being better at prompts, I’m so self indulgent that it makes me terrible at writing prompts. It’s why I don’t openly accept them, though I always gain inspiration from chats with fellow shippers.

I talk a lot about community and fandom, because that truly is why I love it so much. I love the interactions we have and how we build each other up, but a lot of the times it feels like I’m just screaming by myself over these two idiots who are so in love it kills me. *sigh it really doesn’t help that I have very strong opinions and reactions towards certain ships. Plus I’m in the minority of being a strict fluff lover, this ship is way too tragic for me I can’t bear it. I don’t want angst, I’m not interested in it nor do I want to be. Life is too depressing already, so please don’t add to it in fiction.

I’m just a fangirl who wants to read about her ship falling in love and making it work over and over again, is that too much to ask?

Update: I have like five things in my drafts ready to post, updates for midnights, sibling verse, devour, and the last entry for the year of the otp prompts! Also have a poll for what to work on next cause I apparently have a thing for starting multiple WIPs at once *sigh. I also need to make a draft for my winter solstice piece cause I’m done with that. Will also consider leaving flowers for my fav winter fics, but that will be on my main account most likely cause I do like to keep my fangirling separate when I can

[eeclare]

Haikyuu fic Masterlist

I’ve been reading Haikyuu fanfics for YEARS, and I think it’s finally time to share my ultimate wisdom. This post is still super ongoing because I’m not nearly done reading fanfics, but this is what I have to recommend so far :) part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

Part five is here

Part six is here

Part seven is here

I’ll include the summary, rating, word count, and my own comments on the fic (as well as the pairing)! Obviously there are going to be “cult-classics” on here because even though I’ve been in the fandom for a long time, I recognize that there are always going to be new fans (as long as there is at least one more season left lol) and they deserve the “generically” good ones! I’ll label the ones I love the most with <3

Extra little disclaimer: this whole list so far is JUST IwaOi. I was planning on doing the whole master list all in one but then I considered how long I’ve been reading/bookmarking fanfics for and realized that if I put all of it in one this would take me about 6 weeks to fully complete. I’ll link the rest of the list as I complete it/them :) Anyway, enjoy!!

Iwaizumi Hajime x Oikawa Tooru

Long Overdue <3

Word count: 4,528

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi hits his rut.

I have to admit (in the least creepy way possible) I have a soft spot for A/B/O dynamics. Most of them are written weirdly well and they always get the relationship dynamics just right.

Sempiternal

Word count: 3,170

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: The journey of friendship and love over the years wherein Tooru rejects Hajime 5 times followed by the 1 time he doesn't.

This one’s short and sweet and I think it captures Iwa and Oikawa’s relationship quite well. It starts when they’re just little babies and tracks their development from childhood friends to lovers.

The Secret Omega

Word count: 17,387

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Now, staring down at the cheery label which promises no regrets, Iwaizumi ironically but sincerely regrets every decision which lead him here. In particular, his annoying as fuck best friend. Who absolutely, definitely, no matter what, cannot find out that Iwaizumi is an omega.

Yet another A/B/O fic (prepare yourself). God this one is good. Love alpha Oikawa and omega iwa dynamics, and I think this fic captures it perfectly. I’m always in it for angst and this one features a lot of inner turmoil from Iwa’s perspective.

In The Telling

Word count: 6,131

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru.

I’m also a sucker for HP AUs (though there won’t be as many as I’d like in here). Again, this captures Iwa and Oiks in all their glory but with a Harry Potter twist. Please read it, you’ll regret nothing (little to no angst btw, other than the general “they’re getting to know each other and Iwa hates Oikawa at first” stuff).

Thirty Years and Change (The Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19,309

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years. He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

This is set in the future (but pls keep in mind this was written WAY before the recent reveal of what the characters end up doing career-wise) where Oikawa is a world rebound Olympian. Iwa and Oikawa are N/C at the beginning of this so please also keep in mind that this one will be an angsty slow burn, but with a happy ending.

Your Words & My words & Our Words

Word count: 3,613

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; Chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime has the most embarrassing soulmark known to man.

This one is SO funny. No angst, just feel-good fun.

I Was Born In Love With You

Word Count: 1,682

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi are finally reunited at the Olympics.

Short and sweet and full of cheese.

What you Came for <3

Word count: 108,825

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; Chapters 26/26

Summary: Iwaizumi finds himself torn between his career and Oikawa Tooru, straddling the line of professionalism and duty. Iwaizumi has the responsibility to do the right thing, but it it's becoming more and more unclear what the right thing actually is. He has to choose a side, and his decision could save or end more lives.

Cop Iwaizumi and bad guy mafia boss Oikawa. Honestly guys, almost anything ever written by Deathbelle is a cult classic in the Haikyuu fandom. At least to me, anyway. This one is angsty and smutty and well written and overall just incredible. I URGE you to read this one. I also only put a small portion of the original summary in here so if you want to read the full one click on the link and check it out ;)

Saw you at the Fish Market

Word Count: 14,218

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

This one I will admit to only have read once, but it was really cute and really funny with some reallllly light angst sprinkled in there. I honestly read this back in 2020 so my memory’s a bit fuzzy on it but I think it still deserves recognition!

Places

Word count: 14,920

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed: chapters 9/9

Summary: They had been planning this reunion for sixteen weeks, four days and six hours. Or so. Not that Oikawa had been counting, or anything.

Part 1 of a really great series. This one is a bit longer but it’s really cute and I love it. Long distance Iwa and Oikawa make for slight angst and heavy mutual pining.

Kireiji: や

Word count: 11,427

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “You know, going undercover only works if we haven’t met.” Oikawa inwardly groaned. Where was his scotch when he needed it? “I’m here for someone else,” Oikawa said, turning around to meet Iwaizumi’s eye. “Don’t flatter yourself thinking I would dress up like this for someone like you.”

This one is the reverse of What you Came for with cop Oikawa and yakuza Iwaizumi. It’s in the POV of all the characters in the fic and is definitely interesting to read. This one IS a popular one so chances are you will like it!

And Suddenly, We Were Strangers

Word count: 17,926

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "sorry, it's just... you’ve been amazingly kind to me these past few days. ...but i'm still not sure who you are.”oikawa tooru's handed a beige invitation, gold lettering decorating the edges and words that make his heart drop as his gaze lift. he's sitting in a hospital bed and with his mind hazy, he's only sure of three things: his name, his visitor is attractive, and this can't be happening. "i'm iwaizumi." the visitor looks away. " ...your fiancé."

This on is really sad and kind of heartbreaking. Amnesia AU where Oikawa doesn’t remember Iwaizumi. Another rather popular fic in the community, it has angst on angst on angst but with a happy ending. Pretty much a hurt/comfort fic.

Intersections

Word count: 2,741

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi walks out of the Shibuya train station and finds himself staring at a massive digital ad flashing REIGN’s pretty-boy grin. He’s all dressed up in Kouda Mikako’s signature bold style — dark, ripped drop pants under a hooded, pale-yellow tunic and turquoise jacket. Iwaizumi is a hundred-percent sure if he tried wearing that outfit, Hanamaki and Matsukawa would laugh him out of Tokyo. On REIGN, though, it just — it works.

They’re idols/music artists.That’s it. That’s my commentary.

A Drunken Confession and a Warm Embrace

Word Count: 3,431

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: There’s one night where Oikawa stays at home for once, and Iwaizumi is being driven home. Matsukawa brings up the topic of Oikawa, just as a joke, expecting Iwaizumi to complain a little...and Iwaizumi starts going on and on about Oikawa, what he loves about him, and how excited he is to get home to him.

Drunk Iwa confessing his love for Oikawa. This one is so funny I swear!

Are you Listening?

Word count: 4,224

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

This one is SO cute. Literally zero angst just cute and short and sweet and deserves a read.

Trial by Fire <3

Word Count: 76,811

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 14/14

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Remember when I said that there were going to be cult classics in here? Yeah. This is one of them. So incredibly written but tbh the ending made me so MAD. Not because of sad stuff or anything actually bad happening, I just don’t like how a lot of authors always make Iwa out to be the bad guy when Oikawa is the one fucking up or being over dramatic. Other Than that though, go read this fic if you haven’t already. Right now. Do it.

Four Numbers

Word count: 1,388

Rating: General audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: When Oikawa leaves his phone over at Iwaizumi's, Iwaizumi is shocked at what he finds inside.

Iwa snooping in Oik’s phone. No angst here and no slow burn. Good for if you want something a little shorter and sweeter to get you through the day.

It’s Tradition

Word count: 3,916

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Every year, without fail, on Oikawa's birthday, Oikawa has somehow gotten a kiss out of Iwaizumi.

Another fan favourite! Definitely worth the read! Another fic that shows the progression of their relationship from childhood friends to lovers!

The Great Photo Race

Word count: 3,306

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa realizes that he doesn't have a single terrible photo of Iwaizumi on his phone, and challenges the volleyball team to get the worst photo possible in a week.

It’s giving Barney and Robin from that one episode of HIMYM. Super fun and funny fic!

Papillon <3

Word count: 6,867

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "Father says I have to go meet new royals today.” “Who?” The boy said it so easily. With a little bit of a bite. But Tooru wasn’t sure if that was because he was angry, or because he was an alpha. “The…Iwaizumi family…”

Another A/B/O and popular enough (the A/B/O while present in this, can be pretty easily ignored though if you’re not into it. Still such a great read). I read this for the first time in the eight grade. Another childhood friends to lovers progression fic but this time make it royal. So so so so so good. Hands down one of my fav IwaOi fics of all time!

Call Me But Love <3

Word count: 4,507

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa's Soulmark says Hajime, but Iwaizumi's doesn't say Tooru.

Angst on top of angst but with a tooth rottingly happy ending. Do yourself a favour and read this because you will never ever regret it. The tags kind of spoil why their marks done match up but at the end of the day, it’s still an incredible fic.

Deck the Halls with Mistletoe (Leg all Your Burdens go)

Word count: 2,013

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “My boy,” she says, cupping her hand to his cheek, pride in her voice. “I’m so glad you’re home, Tooru.” “Me, too,” he lies easily, summoning a smile that she doesn’t care to look beyond, and lets her pull him into another hug. Pleasantries are exchanged and she tries to get him to stay downstairs for dinner, but he waves her off easily enough with the excuse of jet lag. With promises of getting some sleep he lugs his bag up the stairs and lets himself into the bedroom. Iwaizumi Hajime is sitting on his bed.

ANOTHER fic where Iwa and oiks become estranged. Angst with a happy ending tho so what can I say.

Do You See Yourself as a Daddy? <3

Word count: 4,266

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “Actually,” Oikawa straightened, brushing his fingers down Iwaizumi’s biceps, “One more question, Iwaizumi-san. Off the record, of course.” “And that would be?” Oikawa leaned in, so that their lips were nothing but a breath apart again, his lashes practically touching Iwaizumi’s, “How exactly do you fuck your men?”

I don’t know if the_madame is considered a traditional Haikyuu cult classic author, but holy fuck should they be. I’m serious. This persons fics saved my life. Their works are so good I literally will suck their penis as repayment. You will almost never find better iwaoi fics than from this person. I wish they were still as active in the fandom as they used to be but honestly, they could never write a fic again and I’d still be satisfied lmao

High Rise

Word count: 14,077

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 7/7

Summary: Oikawa followed his ambitions and found himself as a pro-player on the 28th floor of an apartment block, alone, soothing that solitude with occasional visits from old friends and their adorable dog. Then someone new descended into his life, right on the other side of the glass he spent so long staring out of.

Sooooo freaking cute. Cannot say that enough. This fic deserves way more recognition than I feel like it gets. Please love it as much as I do.

Stumble into the Sun <3

Word count: 3,680

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “So,” Hajime says, as he peels off his uniform shirt, letting it fall on top of his gym bag. “Have you guys ever heard of like, someone being turned on by people saying nice things to them?” Matsukawa slams his locker shut. “Oh my god,” he says.

THIS ONE IS SO FUNNY but also hot at the same time. I love it.

Everything With You

Word count: 14,591

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

This is such a great fanfic. So well written, so much angst, so many emotions and the perfect amount of comfort at the end.

Yellow White Red (Camellia/Gardenia)

Word count: 9,012

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: An impressively annoying young man starts frequenting Hajime's flower shop. It goes downhill from there.

This one is funny and sweet with basically zero angst. Highly recommend this read (especially since it has SO many bookmarks compared to ur average fic lol)

Dinner and a Movie <3

I’m being 100% honest here when I say that you don’t need a summary to know that you HAVE to read this fic. Remember when I said that the last fic has so many more bookmarks than the average fic? Yeah. Compare that to this one and it blows it WAY out of the water. Seriously. Just do yourself a favour and read it.

Just Hear Me Out <3

Word Count: 7,679

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility. Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

Whoever the chef is of this fic, I’m gonna kiss ‘em. Completely immaculate. AMAZING soulmate AU. It’s angsty but has such an amazing ending seriously do yourself another favour and read this fic too.

Darlin’ your head’s not on straight

Word count: 13,658

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

Funny and cute and funny and cute and cute and cute and cute.

Have Mercy on Me

Word count: 10,592

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Hajime gets the Hanahaki disease.

Very angsty but it does have a happy ending and the friendship dynamics between everyone is really nice to read. Love fics like that.

Kiss me Cause you can

Word count: 3,362

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “I just dared you,” Yahaba said offhandedly, like he was commenting on the weather, “to kiss Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san.”

It’s really just precious and again, the dynamics between all the characters (while minimal) is really nice to read.

Take Shelter

Word count: 4,888

Rating: N/A (but really teen +)

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Hajime's always loved Tooru. He's just always been prepared to let him go.

Some domestic fluff + angst to get the heart strings going. I’ve seen this one recommended in other lists before but honestly, I feel like this one doesn’t get recognized as much as it should.

By the Time You’re Eighteen <3

Word count: 4,219

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “Tell you what,” Oikawa continues. “If you still haven’t been kissed by the time you’re, say, eighteen, /I’ll/ kiss you.”

This one is sugary and sweet and I just love it

Terrorist Cat

Word count: 1,526

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa generally isn't very good with animals. Iwaizumi tells him it's because they can sense his true nature. But there is one animal that takes to him. And it's a nightmare

It doesn’t actually *say* that they’re together in the tags but like. They are lol

Sing For Me

Word count: 9,863

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: The last place Oikawa thought he would end up in would be a dingy bar covered in sweaty clothes and forced to stand around sweaty people; but here he is, standing under soft purple and red lights, body close to overheating and nothing to combat the exhaustion but a room temperature bottle of water.

If you’re looking to read for the plot, you’ve come to the wrong place

Press ‘1’ to get a call from your drunk best friend

Word count: 5,400

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Press '2' to hear him talk about you for thirty minutes, press '3' for him to compliment your ass, and press '4' for more options.

Another drunk fic for these two! Really funny but also wholesome I love their friendship in this one!

Of Pick Up Lines and Idiots in Love

Word count: 1,867

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: All these notes and pick-ups lines were seriously starting to piss Iwaizumi off.

For the lols

Not about to go looking

Word count: 2,523

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Hajime wants to tell him right then, to say: “I love you and if I ever do meet my match it’ll probably be the worst fucking thing that ever happens to me.” He gets as far as opening his mouth when Oikawa interrupts again.

Really cute and wholesome. I love “unrequited” soulmate AUs :)

Dyspnea/Arrhythmia

Word count: 10,812

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Iwaizumi Hajime is a junior doctor suffering through his medical rotation, and Dr. Oikawa Tooru is his insufferable mentor. Medical AU.

It’s funny and slow burn and I just think it’s neat.

In April

Word count: 28,782

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 2/2

Summary: Tooru dates people and it takes Hajime a while to figure out why he hates it. Like six years.

Where Iwa is an emotionally constipated moron. They both are.

4 Times Iwaizumi said I Love You and 1 Time Oikawa Beat Him to the Punchline

Word count: 10,686

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: It's absolute, complete fluff nothing else

Not so short, but sweet. I’ve always liked this fic, their relationship is just so fluffy and sweet in this

Call Security!

Word count: 18,658

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 5/5

Summary: In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

DeathBelle DeathBelle DeathBelle (mall workers AU)

Blind Allegiance <3

Word count: 3,419

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: When Oikawa had set out to make a name for himself in the gritty underworld of the yakuza, he had demanded respect with a smile on his face, a gun in his hand, and Iwaizumi by his side. Anyone on the outside looking in would have wondered why Iwaizumi had sacrificed so much – his family, his morals, his future – for Oikawa’s twisted ambitions. They wouldn’t have understood why Iwaizumi had made his decisions, and he wouldn’t have expected them to. Sometimes even he wondered how he’d ended up there, caught up in the violent affairs of the yakuza. He wondered, but when he looked at Oikawa, everything became clear.

OH MY GOD DeathBelle is literally Jesus

We’re Falling

Word count: 4,316

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In their third year of high school, Oikawa starts looking at her best friend a little differently. If only Iwaizumi was looking back.

I don’t usually read gender bends but this person did it quite well (I’m my opinion)

Rose-Tinted

Word count: 3,995

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: After a night out, Iwaizumi and Oikawa get a little closer

THIS IS ANOTHER GENDER BEND FIC!! It’s just that this one is smutty.

Rookie Mistakes

Word count: 5,277

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa is a menace, Iwaizumi is running out of patience, and the two of them struggle to find a way to work together.

Another cop AU but they’re BOTH cops and then they have sex

The Worst

Word count: 1,465

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "Oh, fuck, you're not Mattsun," he chuckled, running his fingers through his head of sweaty hair. "Shit, sorry man, didn't mean to–" "Don't worry about it." Iwaizumi blinked to get the blurriness out of his eyes and found one attractive piece of man meat sitting next to him, cupping his chin in his hand. He stuttered, clutching onto his empty shot glass like it'd keep him from falling off the stool. "Tooru. You?" "Hot," he replied, his lips moving faster than his brain. "Uh, Hajime. You're hot. I'm Hajime."

Do I realllly remember reading this one? Not completely. Do I vaguely remember it being good? Yes absolutely! Read it and jog my memory lmao

Butterflies

Word count: 808

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa cries during sex sometimes

Short, cute, sweet.

la lune <3

Word count: 1,698

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Years after graduating high school, Iwaizumi Hajime suddenly finds himself on an unfamiliar couch with a terribly familiar ache in his lower back.

So angsty and yet so nice to read. Another vaguely estranged IwaOi fic that I like quite a bit.

The Art of Silence <3

Word count: 2,767

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Hanamaki and Oikawa make a bet where Oikawa won't talk for 24 hours and Iwaizumi learns that maybe he knows Oikawa a bit better than he thought he did.

Ugh so sappy and cute. Everyone is just happy. No angst to be seen here, folks. It’s also quite funny lol

The Time Oikawa was Late

Word count: 2,157

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa gets into an accident on his way to visit Iwaizumi, and puts Iwa-chan under unnecessary stress.

Royalty AU! It’s quite short but I like protective Iwa so :P

Blessing

Word count: 4,182

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Tooru gives birth and his friends Freak Out

IM SO SORRY this is an Mpreg fic. I’m not proud of myself either, guys. And also, this is less IwaOi centric, than it is just about the couple’s dynamics with Maki and Matsun. I don’t usually enjoy Mpreg centric fics but this one was good.

Balance

Word count: 1,013

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa just wants Iwaizumi to pick him up with those strong arms and fuck him against a wall. So Iwaizumi does.

Just straight up porn no plot. Or I guess, porn is the plot.

I’m the satellite you’re the sky

Word count: 3,227

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: That made it finally dawn on Iwaizumi how much Oikawa wanted this. How much Oikawa wanted him. The thought hit Iwaizumi hard and he pulled away with a quiet gasp, moving his arms to grab Oikawa before he could speak. He held onto the other tightly, his chest heaving slightly and his voice coming out hoarse. “Stupid Oikawa. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sickeningly sweet. Seriously.

#Betrayal

Word count: 2,476

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi commits the ultimate snapchat sin and somehow gets himself a boyfriend in the process.

Ugh so cute and funny

New phone who dis

Word count: 57,747

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 25/25

Summary: Oikawa texts the wrong number when complaining about Ushijima, and then keeps texting Iwaizumi.

This fic is so fucking funny. Is it a cult classic? Technically no, but it really should be.

Kotov Syndrome <3

Word count: 50,023

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 9/9

Summary: Corruption is brewing in Seijou's police force. Oikawa Tooru, the captain of Special Investigations, is put onto a case where he cannot afford to fail.

Cop/detective AU but Oh. My. God. This is such and exceptional fanfic. It doesn’t even feel like a fanfic it just feels like you’re watching criminal minds (almost). The plot doesn’t dig too deep into the romantic relationships of the characters but good god is this fanfic amazing!

If you wanna be

Word count: 15,108

Rating: Teen +

Status: completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa tries to play matchmaker for Iwaizumi and fails. Spectacularly.

Makes me kick my legs out and giggle like a small child

How to Catch an Ace by Oikawa Tooru <4

Word count: 8,201

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Oikawa writes a guide for Kageyama, Matsukawa and Hanamaki read it, and then proceed to tell him how rubbish it is.

Guys this is literally so damn funny. Oiks tryna give Kageyama romantic advice is one of the best things ever.

Read it and weep

Word count: 14,075

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime writes an abrasive critique of golden boy Oikawa Tooru's terrible self-help book. What happens afterwards is a testament to how horrible Iwaizumi's luck really is.

LOL enemies to lovers but in a funny way

Move your Body

Word count: 28,107

Rating: N/A (technically explicit)

Status: Completed; chapters 2/2

Summary: In which Iwaizumi comes out and Oikawa has a great idea and subsequently questions his own sexuality with surprising results...

This one is funny and smutty and has a bit of plot if you squint

Hot Mess

Word count: 2,245

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi discovers the beauty of rimming.

Hot mess is right

Rationed breaths

Word count: 3,740

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi knows the arch of Oikawa's back when he stretches, knows the smooth muscles of his thighs, knows how his shirt sticks to him after a long summer practice: he knows it all. He thinks about it a lot. More than he should, probably.

Well written porn. That’s all.

Reflection

Word count: 3,792

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi is insecure about his height. And Oikawa has to fix this.

Hot

Momma Needs His Dick

Word count: 1,998

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Having two kids doesn't leave much time for Mom and Dad. And Tooru really just can't take it anymore.

THIS IS A PART OF A SERIES!!! Technically I think you COULD read this as a stand alone, though. It’s A/B/O and takes place in a universe written by the_madame and it’s so so so damn good. I AM going to save that main fic to the series for last on this list though because I love it so much.

Hands-on assessment

Word count: 4,978

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi is Oikawa’s professor-with-benefits. And maybe something a little more.

I hate student teacher relationship fics, but I read this one and it was actually pretty good.

The Truth is Out There

Word count: 3,066

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "I work at NASA," Hajime said, setting down his coffee. Oikawa immediately jumped up and slammed his palms against the table. "I'll suck your dick if you tell me about the aliens."

There is no smut in this, despite the summary. This fic is funny and light hearted and I see it on fic rec lists all the time. There is a good reason for that though. Definitely worth the read. Short and sweet :)

Say My Name <3

Word count: 2,685

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi is about to flip a pencil at the top of his head, but he notices a slight blooming of color on the portion of Oikawa's cheek—the portion he can see—and it dawns on him that Oikawa might actually be embarrassed to use his first name. Normally Iwaizumi would normally leave it be; Oikawa isn't ready, that's okay. But some part of Iwaizumi decides that he has a way to sate Oikawa's boredom, and earn himself a nice treat all in the same instance. Something devilish swirls in his abdomen, and he pushes back from his chair, motioning towards the brunet beside him. “Oikawa, I'm gonna take a break.”

Hot.

In defence of our overgrown garden <3

Word count: 2,595

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Ushijima tries very hard to be a good neighbour to the new tenants next door.

This fic made my cackle in public. And I’m not even exaggerating. It’s so goddamn funny I can’t begin to describe to you. I have never laughed so hard at a fanfiction in my life. Ushijima is just so oblivious and he just wants to be a good neighbour and Oikawa just HATES him for it. Again, not a fic that’s focused on the romantic relationships of the characters but it’s beyond worth the read.

I Choose You

Word count: 9,315

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: There's a tiny clock on his wrist, bright red numbers. It's supposed to tick, supposed to move, supposed to tell him when he'll meet his soulmate. The time will run to zero when they've met, moving numbers will become stationary—the ticking that signified uncertainty transforming to the silent stability of forever. Iwaizumi Hajime's clock hasn't ticked for as long as he can remember.

So so so good. This one is a bit of a classic to us og Haikyuu fans. I don’t see this one get mentioned very often but it needs to be read more for sure.

In This Safe Space (Stay for a Minute) <3

Word count: 23,744

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Oikawa is a fairly well-known cosplayer, Iwaizumi is the irritatingly talented doujinka who regularly spots errors in his costumes, and their booths keep ending up located beside one another at conventions, much to Oikawa's dismay.

I love this one. The friendship dynamics, the couple dynamics. It’s also really funny and really cute! I see this on almost EVERY fic rec list and this is one fic that I genuinely think deserves its spot.

Tokyo Boy <3

Word count: 16,655

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 2/2

Summary: A story about longing, and how not even 5,487 miles, a sixteen-hour time difference, or a 'casual' label can stop a stubborn heart (or two?) from falling in love.

A long distance love story that has had my heart since I read it in 2017 :)

Mind Reader <3

Word count: 40,800

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 4/4

Summary: After Iwaizumi is knocked out by a volleyball to the face, he discovers he can now see what people are thinking.

Iwa is such a fucking idiot in this I love it so much. This is another classic (or at least I think so) and it’s a well deserved one. It’s funny and cute and smutty and perfect.

You’re looking like you fell in love tonight

Word count: 34,930

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: in which iwaizumi pretends to be oikawa's boyfriend.

ANOTHER classic… I like this one but it’s not a love. It’s really popular and it’s good, just not one that I think about often when I’m trying to rec fics

When You Wish Upon a Star

I’m not even putting anything else here other than it’s a body swap AU and you HAVE TO READ IT. It’s a cult classic. It’s funny. It’s witty. It’s sweet. Read it now.

The Courtship Ritual of the Hercules Beetle

Word count: 66,307

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 3/3

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Would this really be a master list if I didn’t put this fic on it?

We Shine Like Diamonds <3

Word count: 26,733

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

This fic is probably the ultimate coming of age fanfiction (in this fandom at least). It really tugs at your heart strings and makes you want to give Oikawa a big hug and it will make you very happy in the end.

The Most Inconvenient Way to Find One’s Soulmate

Word count: 10,577

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: After falling out of another relationship, famous actor Oikawa Tooru, decides to just skip the dating and find his soulmate. Posting a picture of your soul mark on Twitter may work for some people, but if you're an actor what really happens is an influx of people pretending to be your soulmate, as Oikawa quickly finds out. It's a good thing Suga is a fan, or else Iwaizumi may never have known that his soulmark matched the one of the actor he didn't really like.

This one’s kinda funny and I did enjoy it a lot. It’s not my favourite but it is memorable! Def a classic as well

Conquering the Great King <3

Word count: 105,691

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 17/17

Summary: Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction. Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

I bet you were wondering when you were going to see this fic on my list. I was contemplating not putting it on because at this point everyone has already read it (I mean, it is THE Haikyuu fanfiction) but on the off chance you come across this and haven’t read it, you haven’t lived, dude.

Anger Management <3

It’s literally just porn, guys (really good porn)

Lockdown

Word count: 72, 716

Rating: Explicit

Status, Completed; chapters 13/13

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime.

Oikawa is literally Iwaizumis bitch. Yet another DethBelle fic. Are we even surprised anymore?

Worthless Pride <3

Not bothering with the formalities here. It is explicit and long but for the love of GOD read this fic. Cult classic for a reason, I tell you. Brb gonna go reread it rn actually

Moral Ambiguity <3

Word count: 16,713

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, a decorated forensic psychologist, has never met a criminal he couldn’t break. He knows how they think and he’s an expert of persuasion. Japan’s most famous serial killer, Iwaizumi Hajime, may be the exception.

FUCK does this fic make you think. I feel like this one doesn’t get mentioned enough so here you go. Not for everyone for sure, but if you’re looking for intense and thrilling, you’ve found it.

The Loyalty of a traitor <3

Again skipping the formalities. Again, it is explicit but holy crap is it ever good. It has 17 chapters (and is fully completed). Do you know how many cult classics DeathBelle has written? Because holy fuck I swear they are like half this list.

New Flame

Word count: 69,805

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 13/13

Summary: Working as a server at a high-end restaurant in Kabukicho means that life isn't always as uninteresting as Oikawa hopes it might be. But the job pays well, his manager is understanding of his university schedule, and Oikawa takes pride in being able to meet some of Japan's most prominent businessmen even if he doesn't really care for what they do. That is, until Iwaizumi Hajime takes an interest in him.

Essentially just 13 chapters of porn with very minimal plot. I have read it a couple times tho and every time you read it the more plot you find if you squint real hard.

When I Fall to My Feet <3

Word count: 23,284

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 3/3

Summary: Oikawa is tired of being rejected and wants to move on from his incredibly disappointing first time. Luckily, his best friend knows a thing or two about sex, and is willing to lend a hand (and a tongue, and maybe other things).

This is soooooo good. This is one of very few trans fics that I’ve read that involve smut that doesn’t come off incredibly gross and fetishy. I think it’s pretty close to perfect.

Long Over Due <3

Word count: 4,528

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Iwaizumi hits his rut.

Okay okay, yes it’s A/B/O. But arguably, some of the best fics are A/B/O and I will die on that hill. This one is smutty and features aggressive Iwaizumi and that just makes me happy for some reason.

Cigarettes and Soda <3

Word count: 28,661

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 10/10

Summary: Obnoxiously wealthy and completely incapable of holding his liquor, Oikawa Tooru stumbles upon the type of guy he hates the most. Because who in their right mind would smoke and cover themselves in tattoos?Apparently, his name was Iwaizumi Hajime. And he had reasonable cause for blackmail.

I think this is the first Iwaoi fic I’ve ever read! This is once again by my all time favourite author the_madame and god is it good. I this is the fic that influenced me to read all the others! It’s like bad boy Iwa and preppy Oiks and it’s really sweet and kinda funny in some places. There is obviously angst since it’s a blackmailing AU so enjoy that part too!

Seijoh Inc <3

Word count: 40,591

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 17/17

Summary: In which Ushijima should keep his mouth shut, Hanamaki possesses extreme patience, and Iwaizumi decides that perhaps Oikawa isn't quite as irritating as he initially thought.

Ahhhh another classic, inevitably by DeathBelle. Seriously so good. If you liked their other works that I’ve recommended so far you for sure enjoy this (if you haven’t read it already).

Something Like Us <3

Word count: 28,916

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 10/10

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond... It'd be for the good of the team, right?

Damn is this good. Mutual pining. Friends to mates to lovers is a great trope!

A Place to Call Home <3

Word count: 191,554

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 44/44

Summary: Oikawa Tooru doesn't need an alpha. He's doing fine all on his own. And the past four years of being a single mother have proven that this is exactly what he wanted from life. Of course, life has a way of not always going as planned.

This is it guys. The last of my IwaOi centric fic recs. A Place to Call Home is probably my favourite fic for this pairing. The angst is good, the characters and development are amazingly written. There’s some BokuAka on the side for good measure. And yes, it is A/B/O in a sense that is hard to ignore but if you’re going to read anything on this list it has to be this one. It is genuinely amazing. Oikawa is a single parent in this and Iwa is some random alpha dude that wants to be a part of their lives. Seriously just so fucking good I cannot stress that enough. Plus, as a bonus, the author wrote Oikawa’s son aged up with his own love interest in a fic as part of the series. Something to Call our Own is such a good companion piece and I just love it so much. It’s 11/11 chapters of pure tooth rotting fluff. I have never seen this fic recommended before but it seriously needs the recognition. Please please please read this!

Okay, this is it. I know that I labeled this as a master list (and let’s be honest, it is) for all of Haikyuu but this is just the first part. IwaOi is my weakness and therefore I HAD to give you this many recs. I’ll link the rest of the parts of the master list as I complete them :)

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Growth Spurt

Jedediah Smith x Reader

Fandom: Night at the Museum

Summary: When a battle breaks out at the Smithsonian, you need all the help you can get. Your magic, however, has a mind of its own.

Note: Takes place during NATM 2. I’m a little out of my comfort zone on this one, so let me know what you think lol. I might be willing to write a part 2...?

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.3k

Reader is: Female

This was bad. Very, very bad. At the moment, you were in Washington D.C. Ahk’s brother was crazy, apparently, and he was recruiting all of the powerful villains he could possibly assemble, and he wanted to, basically, use the tablet to rule the world. Add to this the fact that he had captured Jed and stuck him in an hourglass.

Add to THAT the fact that he had snatched your family amulet from around your neck…you figured the man must have a death wish. If only he knew what he was messing with.

And yet, the forces he had assembled were too great for you to comfortably overpower without the rest of your friends present, so you figured it was best to keep your powers a secret, even if only to preserve the element of surprise.

“You got this, partner. I know you do.” Jed put his little hands against the glass, his eyes sad, but hopeful. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“But—”

“Go!”

“Come on,” Larry gave your arm a tug, and though your eyes lingered on poor little Jed, trapped there in the glass, you followed after Larry.

It was an odd friendship you shared with Jed. He flirted with you, you laughed. It was impossible. He was about an inch and a half tall. And yet, the flirting never stopped and he never hesitated to remind you of your beauty, especially when you doubted yourself the most. You were powerful and he admired you for that, but he also loved your laugh, your smile…he knew it was silly and that there was no chance of something serious between the two of you, but that didn’t seem to prevent him from trying…

Amelia caught up with the two of you easily and you caught her up on the situation at hand.

You checked in with a Theodore Roosevelt without a body, but he didn’t have much to contribute to the situation. Neither did the Thinker. And so, the three of you headed out across the campus in search for answers. If not, Jed’s hour in that hourglass would be his last.

“So, this cowboy friend of yours, are the two of you…?” Amelia asked.

“Are we what? Dating?”

“Yes, that. You care about him, that much is clear.”

“I mean, yeah, but it just wouldn’t work out.”

“And why not?”

“He’s a miniature.” Larry explained. “He’s about two inches tall.”

“Oh!” She laughed. “Well, that would complicate things, now wouldn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” You thought for a moment. “Hey, weren’t there some Einsteins in the Air and Space Museum? I bet they’d be able to help.”

Larry snapped. “Good thinking.”

So, after a brief chat with the Einsteins, the three of you took the Wright Brothers’ plane and crashed it through the window of the building Kahmunrah had set up base in. Amelia ran to get help and you hopped off of the plane and took refuge behind a pillar, watching as Larry argued with Kahmunrah, wracking your brain for something, anything, some spell that would work to get Jed out of that hour glass.

And then it clicked.

It was a longshot, and you knew that, but if it worked…

As soon as Larry got the hourglass, you called out, “Over here!”

“Sparkle Fingers!” Jed lit up.

Larry threw the hourglass to you and you caught it, flipping it so the side Jed was trapped in was on top.

“Seize her!” Kahmunrah shouted.

You booked it as fast as you could down the hall and around a corner, listening as Kah’s guards passed, and once they were a safe distance away, you exhaled a long breath.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave me in there.” Jed smiled softly up at you. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“Well, there’s something my grandmother used to say. She said magic is really very simple; you just have to want something and then let yourself have it.”

“So…?”

“Hold still.” You told him, your power festering around your fingertips. You flicked it down and the purple rays shined through the glass, straight onto Jed.

“Hey, what is that?” Jed asked, somewhat fearful. “What did you do? I feel…weird.”

You bent down and set the hourglass on the floor, taking a few steps back and bracing.

Jed groaned, and then, all at once, the hourglass around him exploded as he grew to human size. He looked down at himself, holding his hands in front of his face as he moved his fingers. He kicked the pieces of the hourglass aside with his foot and looked up at you, his face awash in awe. “Holy smokes, Sparkle Fingers! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. You gulped. “Neither did I.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got some more in you. I have a feeling this night is far from over.”

You chuckled, “Me too.”

***

Once the battle was over and the dust had settled, Jed walked straight up to you, a nervous look on his face, his usual confidence dwindled now that he was standing face to face with you after all of this time.

“I…don’t know how much longer your spell is gonna last, so I’ve gotta do this now.” He said, taking off his hat and handing it to Larry, who was, understandably, shocked at the scene unfolding before him. Jed grabbed you by the hips and tugged you into a kiss, his lips exploring yours without hesitation. You kissed him back, your arms winding around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

The rest of the museum exhibits, who had seen your relationship with Jed grow over the years cheered alongside your new friends, and when the kiss ended, Jed leaned his forehead against yours, smiling softly. His warm breath fanned across your cheeks.

He chuckled, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Oh!” He said, suddenly remembering something. He reached into his pocket and held up your amulet. “I believe this is yours.”

Your eyes widened and you stared at it. You were sure it had been lost when Kahmunrah had been pushed into the portal, but here it was, in perfect shape.

“You…how did you get it back?” You asked as Jed fastened the chain around your neck.

“Let’s just say Octavius and I have a few tricks up our sleeves.” He shrugged. “Speaking of…”

Octavius popped over the top of Jedidiah’s chest pocket. “Hello!”

“Hi, Oct.” You chuckled.

“At some point, I hope you feel so inclined to try that spell out on me.” Octavius said, causing you to smile. “If only to broaden my horizons.”

“When we get back to New York? Absolutely.” You promised.

Larry looked to Amelia. “Speaking of, Amelia, can you fly us home?”

“Certainly, Mr. Daley. It would be my honor.” Amelia nodded, grinning at the sight of you standing next to Jed.

He took your hand and pulled it to his lips, his fingers intertwining with yours. The whole flight back to New York, his arm wouldn’t leave your waist, and once you were finally back and inside the museum, Teddy had to do a double-take.

“Jedediah, my boy, is that you?”

“Had a growth spurt.” Jed shrugged, helping Octavius out of his pocket so he could get downstairs with the others. “And I feel like it’s gonna wear off soon…”

“Yeah…” You felt it, too. Your power slowly leaving him and you couldn’t do anything but watch as he shrank about an inch. And then another.

“Think I could get one more kiss for the road?” Jed asked.

You leaned forward and captured his lips with yours, kissing him one last time before the magic wore off, and when you pulled away, he shrank the rest of the way, back down to his normal size.

“Thanks for the adventure, Sparkle Fingers.” He saluted up at you from his spot on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?”

He winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language, implied cannibalism (because Vampires)

Warnings: Aforementioned implied cannibalism

Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate.

Notes: Features a cameo of sorts for my OC, Avaskian Caldwell. Not beta read.

Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants, 2: Uncertain Destinations

3: Eat Your Heart

“Well,” Bela says, only moderately sounding hostile, “I do believe that marks the end of our tour. Unless you would like to see the dungeons? Perhaps get a proper look at where you might end up, hmm?” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes is more difficult than you would have preferred. Somehow you manage, though, and reply in a relatively relaxed tone.

“I think I’ll have to pass. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, now would I?” You incline your head towards a nearby clock to emphasize your point. For a split second Bela seems surprised, as if she hadn’t been keeping track of time at all. But the look vanishes as quickly as it came about, soon replaced with a calculating gaze, and she gives a short nod. “Is it safe to assume that you eat together, as a family?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a small look of confusion. “Mmm, sounds wonderful. It’s been far too long since I’ve shared a nice family meal.”

That certainly wasn’t what Bela had expected you to say.

“Oh? I do hope that you can stomach the sight of blood, then. Otherwise it might not feel so nice,” she replies, after a slight pause. Her earlier confidence had returned, further bolstered by the resulting giggles from her sisters. They were a chaotic bunch. Regardless, Bela soon takes your wrist in her hand, pulling you towards the dining room, grip only tight enough to be slightly uncomfortable. Both of her siblings followed closely behind, occasionally whispering unintelligible jokes to one another. One in particular leaves Daniela pausing in the hallway, hunched over laughing, with an unnerving edge of something else you couldn’t quite place. A backwards glance in her direction leads you to make eye contact with Cassandra, who gives you a knowing smirk. Deciding that you didn’t want to know what she had said, you turned back towards Bela, and stayed facing that way until you reached the dining hall.

Inside, Alcina was already sitting at the head of the table, in a chair that would have seemed a throne to anyone else. On either side of her are two more seats, far less ornate than her own. For a moment the sisters and you hesitate in the entranceway. Evidently they weren’t accustomed to this particular arrangement, unsure where to sit. It’s not until Bela clears her throat that Alcina speaks up.

“On my left, dear,” she says, eying her eldest daughter, before turning to you. “You may sit to my right. I trust that you’ll find this agreeable?” Well, you weren’t exactly about to argue with her, so yes, you found it agreeable. Even if it meant sitting across from the more ‘direct’ member of your opposition. Though perhaps ‘judge’ and/or ‘jury’ was a better word for the Dimitrescu daughters. Regardless, you were going to have to sit with them, and in the end it hardly mattered who was where. As such, you semi-awkwardly made your way to your seat, hoping that you’d eventually feel less out of place. Soon enough Cassandra takes the spot next to you, giving you a concerning smirk as she does. What did she have planned? Before you can even contemplate her intentions, her mother is talking again, drawing both of your attention towards herself. “Splendid. I’m glad to see that you’re already finding your place here.”

It’s not hard, you think, when you’re directing my every step. Despite your biting internal commentary, you do not speak out loud, merely giving a polite smile and nod. Across from you, Bela gives her mother an affectionate expression before fixing you with a subtle disapproving look. Taking some small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t being openly hostile, you forced yourself to keep smiling, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as you can muster. Within moments both of you have your attention drawn elsewhere, thankfully, as servants begin carrying in various food platters. Most of the dishes appeared to be perfectly normal. But looks could be deceiving, and you knew that at least a handful had to contain less “traditional” ingredients. They remembered to cook something normal for me, right?

Soon enough your fears are somewhat alleviated, as one of the servants places an already filled plate in front of you. Admittedly you don’t recognize xer, despite xer oddly silver hair, or the red bandana xe wore. Something told you that xe wasn’t just another maiden, however, especially with the way xe brazenly made eye contact with each of the Dimitrescus. Before you could inquire about xer, you’re distracted by the arrival of Juniper, who instantly smiles when she sees you. In her arms she carries the last two side dishes and several empty plates, which the unknown servant gently takes from her. Together the two of them set the final items into place. Wordlessly, the grey-haired person removes a notebook from xer back pocket, handing it to Juniper with the barest sliver of a smile. Clearly having done this more than once, she accepts it readily, opening it to a bookmarked page.

“My Ladies, and our dearest, most esteemed guest, I present to you another fine selection of traditional Romanian dishes, for your sincere enjoyment. Today we will be drinking one of our more popular styles of wine, known as Febris Amatoria, meaning ‘fever of love’ in Latin,” she reads, only somewhat shakily. Next to her, the stranger inclines xer head to your employers, then does the same to you. At this point you have to assume that xe doesn’t speak, and that Juniper was serving as a translator of sorts. “Due to the unexpected nature of our guest, the dishes are not clearly marked in regards to their ingredients. You have my- as in Mx Caldwell- assurance that this will be handled by the next standard mealtime, where the shared dishes will be color coded. In the meantime, I- again, Mx Caldwell- will remain here, in order to prevent any… unintentional ingestion of human remains.” Gulping, Juniper returns the notebook to the stranger (Caldwell, apparently), then exits the room alongside the other servants.

“Isn’t Febris Amatoria also another name for a type of anemia?” Bela asks, slowly swirling the contents of her glass as she does. Caldwell, who had moved to stand several feet behind Alcina, gives a nod in response, and appears mildly amused.

“A clever allusion to our family’s nature, isn’t it? I know Daniela has certainly drained a number of ‘lovers’ over the years, perhaps causing a case or two,” Cassandra teases, much to her younger sister’s irritation. Personally you were surprised that she was willing to admit such a thing in front of her mother. Unless you were reading too much into the word ‘lovers’, due to the rumors you had heard regarding Lady Daniela. Nonetheless, the Lady in question is aggravated enough to sit up, looking ready to lunge across the table at Cassandra. As soon as Daniela moves (with frightening speed), her sister easily catches her wrist, using her other hand to wave a finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah, Dani, we have a guest. Do try to behave yourself.”

“Oh, because you’re the epitome of table manners? I’m amazed you haven’t already managed to spill wine all over your dress,” Daniela counters, before ripping her arm away from Cassandra. They both huff, but are quick to quiet down when their mother sends them a look. “Dinner looks delectable, as usual, Ava,” Daniela continues, after clearing her throat, accentuating the end of her sentence with a gesture of her wine glass. Then she takes a long drink from it, perhaps thinking that a little intoxication might make the evening easier to get through. Deciding that maybe she had the right idea, you take a sip from your own glass, relishing the subtle hint of lavender.

In the minutes that follow, things slide into easy comfort. Caldwell once more moves closer to the table, helping pass along side-dishes from person to person, quietly pointing out which ones you could safely consume, occasionally chuckling in response to the jokes that the daughters shared. A strange warmth built itself up within the center of your chest, heart yearning for age-old memories of your own family. Three months had passed since the last time you felt this way. Really, it felt so much like family that you didn’t catch the way Cassandra’s lips twitched into a smirk, or the way she met Bela’s gaze, or the way she pushed a dish just a tad further towards you than necessary. All it had taken was a single second of your gaze turned elsewhere… then you were reaching for the castle’s special variety of forbidden fruit.

“Ayye, nyet, nyet!” Caldwell snaps, voice oddly strained, hand wrapping around your wrist in an instant. All eyes are on you now, though Alcina’s soon flicker over to the servant. “Cass. Bad girl,” xe continues, going so far as to shake xer finger disapprovingly. Understandably, you’re rather shocked to see a butler be so bold with someone so dangerous. Even more shocking is the way that Cassandra backs down without a hint of a fight, refusing to meet her mother’s steely gaze, not even pretending that she hadn’t attempted to trick you. Satisfied with this outcome, Caldwell wordlessly fades back into the background.

Although you had almost committed an unwilling act of cannibalism, you managed to slowly relax again, content to listen in on (but not participate in) the conversations around you. ‘Twas somewhat awkward, admittedly, to be the odd one out in a family so close. Yet a part of you had gained a new sense of hope by meeting Caldwell. After all, if a human such as xerself could become so close as to chastise Cassandra of all people, why couldn’t you?

---------------------------

“Once again, I would like to… apologize, on behalf of my daughters,” Alcina says, rather softly, still keeping a gentle hand on your back to guide you along. “I must admit, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened if not for Avaskian.”

“Believe it or not, I think I actually understand where they’re coming from. Though, of course, I am also grateful for Caldwell’s intervention. But really… your family has been together for several decades now, right? Any addition is guaranteed to stir things up,” you respond with a shrug. “Besides, I’m more than aware that I don’t exactly stand at the same level as your other romantic interest.” Suddenly both of you are halting in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet each other’s gaze, regret rumbling like butterflies in your stomach. You hadn’t intended to bring up your soulmate’s somewhat obvious affections for Mother Miranda.

“Hmm. So you are… aware of that,” Alcina murmurs, finally turning her head to look down at you. There’s no small amount of pain in her eyes, though you can tell she’s holding as much of it in as possible. “I would prefer it if we did not speak of this. I do hope you have no qualms with that.” For once, there is no hint of force or commanding edge to her tone. For once, she is letting you act as an equal, the first step towards actually accepting your role as her soulmate. It’s enough to make the corners of your lips turn up, if only for a moment.

“Alcina… I understand. I merely want to say that it won’t affect how I feel, or how I act. Love is a blessing, even when it ends in pain. I… have loved before. People whom I will never see again, people who never felt the same way, and maybe people who I really only thought that I loved. I’m trying to think of those experiences as lessons. Situations that taught me something about myself, or about what love is, that I can keep in mind and use going forward. Just as I promised to your daughters, I will try to love you. I will give you an honest chance, regardless of our past circumstances. Because we’re soulmates. Because this is the world offering us a shot at something amazing, and I’m not about to give that up,” you explain, placing one of your hands in Alcina’s. For a moment there’s silence, but you see both surprise and happiness in her expression. Still, there’s a hint of tension remaining in the air, so you do your best to dispel it. “Also your daughters threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and I’d hate to perish before lasting a full year here. I heard a rumor that one of the senior staff members makes cards to celebrate.”

Next thing you know, you’re hearing a beautiful sound, a light, genuine laugh from Alcina, who all at once releases the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes, I do believe Ava, or Caldwell as you said, still makes those. Always with strange little drawings of felines…” She trails off, voice fading into another chuckle, before at last resuming her walk, never letting go of your hand. “As much as I have enjoyed our chat, I do believe it is about time that I retire for the night. We will see each other once more in the morning. For now, I bid you goodnight. Sleep well, my dear.” With that, the two of you arrive at the entrance to the servants’ quarters, and you find just enough courage to bring her hand to your lips, for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, Lady Alcina. May your dreams be as sweet as your company.”

[beardrabbles]

invitation.

characters: GN!reader, claude, mentions of GN!byleth

warnings: none

word count: 2,814

notes: posted this on ao3 ages ago and totally forgot to post it here too :’) got into the fandom late, like alwaaaays! but i have an enormous claude / golden deer bias and wanted to write some fluff with him.

You forgot sometimes that this peaceful spot tucked between the trees wasn’t yours alone. You shared it with another from time to time, but it had been so long since the last time you both stepped foot in the clearing that it startled you to hear footfalls crunching at the grass behind you. Pushing yourself up halfway, eyes blinking blearily, you spotted the richly dressed prince with his hands planted on his hips.

“Napping without me?” Claude clicked his tongue, and you quickly replied with a roll of your eyes.

“I can’t nap here on my own?” You fell back again, letting the soft grass cushion you. A soft, content sigh escaped through your nose as the sweetest of breezes barely brushed your skin. It smelled of flowers and damp leaves, dense soil and a distant storm. There was no zing of hot iron or blood, and it was a relief.

“I thought it was our thing.  .  .”

You felt him sit beside you, taking up his usual position to your left. The tiniest flutter tickled the inside of your ribs, his nearness nearly making your head spin. “Before I came along, it was just your thing, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better this way.” Claude leaned back on his hands, eyes up towards the greying sky. It had taken fighting a war to bring back their usual glimmer, but it was there in full. Bright, hopeful, determined. Laying there, gazing up at the unsuspecting prince, it was almost as if you were looking at the man from five years ago — the cunning, clever and sometimes troublesome man that you had fallen head-over-heels for and had continued to painfully pine for.

“Me too.” You dared to smile, his gaze shifting to you. Adoring him hurt, but no amount of hurt would have you appreciating his presence any less.

Claude returned the smile, and the gesture sent your heart slamming against your chest. But just as quickly as it came, the smile faded. “I spoke to Byleth.”

You sat up in an instant, concern etched into your face. You were aware that he had gone to meet them, but he had failed to tell you why. You equally failed to push the subject, as it wasn’t your place to disrespect a man in his position. Curious as you might have been, you assumed it was best not to ask and only hope that he trusted you enough to confide in you later. Seemed you were right, though you acknowledged to yourself that it was a rare thing.

“How did it go?”

“They’re disappointed I won’t be here for the coronation. I can’t blame them. After everything we’ve been through together, I should be here for them. I want to hope they understands. They always have.” He exhaled sharply. “But, hey, I got to see them smile again! I think as long as they’re here, Fódlan will be in good hands. If they keeps smiling, if they keep breaking down the walls that were built up, I can go home and do my part there. I trust them.”

You shifted, feeling uncomfortable in your envy.

“So they’re not coming with you to Almyra?” You wondered. Claude shook his head.

“No, and I didn’t want to ask. Fódlan needs to be taken care of. It needs a parent that will hold its hand and lead it in the right direction. It’s gonna stumble around like an infant walking for the first time, but that’s why they’re the best person to lead. They’ll know what to say and do to help this little baby along.”

You screwed up your face and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You really like talking about babies.” You pointed out. Claude’s cheeks and the tips of his ears darkened a fraction, but he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle.

“I guess I do. I wonder why that is.” He trailed off, voice soft but nowhere near as confused as his words would have lead you to believe. You had long ago resigned yourself to never truly understanding him, so you shrugged. Trying to pick through his mind was like attempting a hedge maze without a map.

“Does that mean you’re going to be heading back soon?”

“I can’t stay for long. There’s so much I need to do if I’m going to see things through, but there’s something important I need to do here before I can go home.” There was sharpness to his eyes that you recognized and deeply adored. He was planning something, and you felt your curiosity rise again.

“What is it? Can I help?” You were always so quick to offer him aid. Usually, he gently denied it, stating time and time again that most of his schemes were for his mind alone. Things often worked out for the better that way. The fewer people that knew, the less chance they could commandeer the plan or ruin it. Yet you still asked just in case he needed you.

“Maybe. Before that, can I ask you something?”

You frowned. “Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“You’ve been saying that since we met. Is it really true?” Claude smirked and raised a single brow, only for you to shove him harmlessly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You eyed him for a moment, worry mounting. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

The prince shook his head, as if he were getting off track. “No. I wanted to know where you plan to go. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh! Oh.” You frowned when the sudden realization that you had no plans slammed into you. “I don’t.  .  . know. I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy supporting everyone else, doing what I can for them, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyone’s grown up. They’re all doing their own thing, starting their own lives. No one needs me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Claude’s voice was firm in your ear, and his expression was set to match. You smiled meekly.

“I grew up with all of you, but it felt like my purpose was to help you all find yours. Not that I really think I’m capable of being that helpful, but I never took the time to think about myself. I was too worried about you all reaching your dreams that I didn’t have one. I don’t have one.” You amended the last part quickly because it was blatantly clear to you that you had no direction to go in.

“There has to be something you want.” Claude pushed. You laughed.

“At the risk of repeating myself, I want what you want. I want you to succeed.” You opened your mouth again, but were quick to clamp them shut when another thought arose. I want to be with you.

It was lovely to imagine, but you had lived with the fact that any future with him was left solely to your imagination. You met him as an heir, and you knew him now as a prince. The differences in your status was vast and hard to ignore. Claude had his mind set on making those differences unimportant, but you doubted that he could find room in his heart for you. He had a country to take care of and love, not to mention you two had been friends since the start of your time at the academy. Too much time had passed since then, and while your feelings had grown deeper and more troublesome, you were sure he had none to begin with. No, as students, he had been too preoccupied with tormenting you. Teasing, poking, taking up your time with nonsense and rarely giving you a moment to yourself.

Despite him being a brat at times, you loved him. And even if he didn’t reciprocate, you were grateful to have known him at all.

“So you’re not bound to Fódlan?” His voice shook you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“Do you have any obligations here in Fódlan?” His gaze was so intently set on you that it made you squirm, the feeling ten times worse since coming out of your own head.

“No, not that I can think of.” You couldn’t recall making any promises.

“Right, so you could leave.” Claude hummed thoughtfully and got to his feet. Once upright, he dusted the grass from his clothes and offered you a hand. Confused, you took it and let him pull you into standing.

“I guess I could, but where would I even go? I don’t know anyone outside of Fódlan.” You felt something subtle was being said, you couldn’t catch on. Some days, you could. You had learned him just as he had learned you, but he was always several steps ahead. You could read him, but only the pages he allowed you to see. In this case, the pages were written on, but only in bits and pieces.

Claude gave you a pointed stare and a gentle, encouraging squeeze to your hand. When you failed to understand, he raised both eyebrows and pointed to himself. No words were needed. His gestures and odd line of questioning were like a clarifying slap to the face. You reeled, giving him a wide-eyed stare while sputtering idiotically.

“Wh——”

“That took you while. I was starting to worry I’d have to spell it out for you.” Claude put on a convincing pout. “Unless this is your weird way of telling me you don’t want to come with me.”

“No!” You leaped too soon, your eagerness prompting a smirk on the prince’s face. You fell silent again, worried that saying anything more might reveal all of what you had been trying to hide for over five years. “I’m not saying that.”

“What are you saying?” He purred cunningly, hand still holding tightly to yours. You didn’t resist when he to eased you closer, your heart screaming in your chest. Cheeks red and breaths shallow, you could hardly think. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

I’m still napping, and this is just another stupid dream.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Vague.”

“Ah-ah,” chided the cheeky man, “you’ll have to address me as Prince Vague now.”

You scoffed and gave him another shove. When your hand pressed to his shoulder, he trapped it there with his own. Even closer now, Claude lowered his head until your noses nearly touched. You sucked in a breath and found yourself unable to move away, attention trapped in his bright, beautiful eyes.

“You want to know what I’m asking you?” He lowered his voice, tone growing tender and warm. You nodded. “I’m asking if you’ll come home with me. I want you to meet my parents and my people, and I want them to meet you. I want them to love you as much as——”

He choked for a moment, a rare flicker of pure emotion startling him.

“As much as what?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Claude calmed himself with a shaky breath and tilted his chin down, lips barely ghosting the curve of your cheek. His eyes fluttered half closed, while a single lock of his dark hair tickled at your cheek. When you didn’t shy away, he spoke again in honeyed tones. “I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“You can’t mean that.” Your entire being felt numb with glee, but you couldn’t process his confession without a little doubt. He met your doubt with a chuckle, so you persisted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you felt the compulsion to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. You had done so many times before, letting the gentle touches calm him during his bad days, but there was new meaning behind it now. There was an honest love behind it as your dragged your fingers through the strands, pushing them back and away from his darling face.

“There were so many others.  .  .” So many people wanted his attention, his affection. You were but one in a thousand that longed for him.

“I didn’t care. I dreamed of many futures, and all of the best ones had you standing there beside me.” He muttered into you, the softest of kisses resting just under your eye.

“We argued so much.” You shuddered, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“You kept me grounded. How can anyone expect to be a decent ruler if they’re always agreed with?” He countered. You huffed and tried to think of another argument.

“You used to tease me all the time.” You muttered.

“I’ll admit that was dumb of me, but it felt like the only way to get your attention.” His lips found the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t contain a snicker. “You looked so cute when you were embarrassed, especially when you wrinkled your nose. I couldn’t help it.”

“Why do I feel like you still can’t help it?” You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and let your fingers follow the path of his facial hair. He was putty in your hands, cheek pressing to your hand.

“It’s part of my charm.” Claude flashed his usual smile, then took a step back. The lack of closeness left you feeling a little colder, but the distance let you appreciate him fully. Tall, handsome, commanding. You were exceedingly proud of him, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again. But before you could think to speak, he started again. “You don’t have to answer me right away. I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you the time you need. I’m leaving in two days. Meet me at the——”

You didn’t allow him to finish. Your heart was too full and on the verge of bursting, and it seemed silly to you that he didn’t know what your answer would be when he was so skilled at predicting you. Rather than let him wonder, you removed your hands from his and took his face between them. You gathered your courage, mustered with his help, and pulled him down for a soft but silencing kiss.

Claude wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he supposed he didn’t mind being put in his place if it meant your lips fitting against his as perfectly as they did. Unfortunately for him and the heat radiating throughout him, you didn’t let the kiss last long. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and crush you against his chest like he’d long to for years, but you parted from him too soon for his liking.

“Where are you going?” He took chase, but you placed your hand over his mouth. Claude stilled and arched a brow.

“I’ve had my answer for years, Claude. I’m with you in every possible way. But if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?” You uncovered his mouth, but his silence told you more than words would. “How long have you, uh.  .  .”

“Cared for you? Admired you? Wanted to kiss you the way you just kissed me?” Every question he posed in response to yours made your heart thud and your cheeks burn. “A long, long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was never given the chance.” He answered so surely that you wondered if he had those words prepared. You couldn’t pester him about it — too many things had gone horribly wrong during your time at the academy, and it didn’t make sense to plant seeds in dead soil. There would have been no guarantee that it would bloom and flourish, but with the land starting a slow recovery, you hoped that what you two started here would become lusher and more far-reaching than any forest in Fódlan.

“It’s alright.” You giggled giddily and granted him another kiss, this one to the corner of his lips. “We were given our chance, and you took it.”

“Does that mean you’re going home with me?” He asked.

“I told you——”

“I want to hear you say the words.” Claude softly pleaded. Weak for his doe eyes, you melted in his arms and relented.

“I’m going home with you, Claude. I want to meet your parents, and I want to get to know your people. And for as long as I’m there, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to get to know you better.”

A soft sigh tinged with relief escaped the man as his head came to rest on your shoulder. His grasp on you tightened, and you felt his heart beat against your chest.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and embraced him. “Don’t thank me. Just take me home.  .  .”

[gingersnappish]

KYLUX RECS 2020-2021

My Kylux Recs in the last year (Aug, 20 2020 - Aug 20 2021)

SO. MUCH. GOOD. FIC!!! We are really lucky in this fandom to have so much good stuff to read!

Fic is part of the lifeblood of fandom, in my opinion-it shares new ideas and AUs and fleshes out the characters and most of all it inspires and entertains us all and engenders all sorts of feels for the characters-it’s part of what keeps us shipping! So a big ‘thank you’ to all the fic authors out there who work so hard at their craft and are generous enough to share it with all of us!

The following list is by no means comprehensive-there are LOTS and lots more very good fics that have been published in the last year that I haven’t read. I just wanted to offer up a few recs from what I know I enjoyed so far! (I also have more than fits on one list to rec-I’ll try and do another list soon!) As always, I rec based on personal taste, and I highly encourage reading all the tags/warnings on any given work to make sure it’ll be to your taste! -

The Flirtation Of Flowers 

DaisyChainz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771553

Words: 5,917

Rating: Teen

Summary:Kylo runs his farm's stall at the Farmer's Market every weekend. He has a new customer, a gorgeous redhead that is curious about the meanings of his bouquets. Kylo doesn't know anything about that, so he makes stuff up to keep the man coming back every week.

My thoughts on the rec: This is the cutest slice of a modern AU kylux-it really nails Kylo’s personality as a (slightly awkward) flirt who is trying his best and just really likes the redhead who keeps coming to buy flowers. Just a sweet little fic all ‘round!

all i have to do is dream

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709426/chapters/44373613

Words: 11,456

Rating: Teen

Summary:Armitage Hux has been going to the same bar every Thursday for the last year, nursing a crush on the gorgeous, unobtainable bartender, Kylo Ren. He finally gets up the courage to ask him out, only to find out he has some unusual competition: the memory of a red-haired boy from Kylo's past, who Kylo swears is the soulmate that got away from him.A fill for this SoftKyluxKinks prompt:Anonymous asked: Benarmie with young Ben (around 11 years old) having a huge crush on Armitage (16). Hux finds it adorable but mostly ignores him because he's a kid. Flash forward a few years when Ben is all grown up and Hux is the one with a huge crush.

My thoughts on the rec: This is another really cute young modern AU! I like the idea that Ren has liked Hux forever, but this deals nicely with the age gap and that Hux really wouldn’t notice Ren back until they are both appropriately older. And they make such a cute couple-it’s a great progression from just ‘he’s hot’-like, there is a lot more to them than that in the end!

Homecoming 

sigo 

(really, read anything by sigo, it’s all my favorite)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150808

Words: 13,450

Rating: Explicit

Summary:“We’re off the next two weeks, you know.”“Yes, I know.” There was emergency construction scheduled to fix cracking asphalt too near a pipe in the center of campus. The buses couldn’t run, and that phenomenon was the only thing that ever cancelled classes. Halloween was dead center in the unplanned time off school, and every bar within a fifteen mile radius would be untenable as the students celebrated. Hux was planning on staying home, catching up on grading. He was rather looking forward to an opportunity to reread his favorite novels. They were already stacked by the couch in preparation.“My family always throws a Halloween party and they got word that I could come this year,” Kylo said, shuffling his feet. He looked almost bashful.“Ren, it’s midnight,” Hux sighed at his infuriating coworker. “Get to it.”“I may have informed my entire family previously that we were dating.”

My thoughts on the rec: One of my all-around fav fics from the last year’s worth of my reading material! It’s got the modern AU vibes down pat without losing their personalities or making them too OOC, it’s got the fake-dating trope done REALLY well, it’s got a wonderful creepy vibe strung delicately throughout for the Halloween haunted setting, it’s got plot and make-outs (and more). Can’t recommend highly enough!

Thaw

thesevioletdelights

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557180/chapters/69982587

Words: 14,316

Rating: Explicit

Summary:They have managed cooperation - efficient cooperation, even - in these past months, which is more than enough. And already nothing short of a miracle for both of them.Still. Ren was a fool to think he could simply run off and keep Hux in the dark.-----When Ren goes missing on a mysterious planet, Hux sets out to find him. He doesn't yet know that he just might find himself.

My thoughts on the rec: This, like all of violet’s fic, is HOT! Like, scorching vibes between them! It’ll draw you in and not let you go ‘til after the boys are ‘done’! And, like all of violet’s fics, the character voices and personalities are also impeccable!

Rocks Break Gifts

elderbwrry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840237/chapters/62777839

Words: 16,706

Rating: Mature

Summary:The Rebellion has been crushed, a coup affected, and Supreme Leader Ren and his Grand Marshall Hux have settled into a domestic routine as the joint rulers of the Galaxy. Kylo wants nothing more, now, than to make his relationship with Hux official, but he can't seem to rise to Hux's challenge of a satisfactory proposal.Or, the five times Kylo proposes, and the one time Hux says yes.

My thoughts on the rec: Ahhhhh, the premise in this one is great! Like, I don’t wanna spoil the plot reveal at the end, so I can’t say too much, but there is a really good reason throughout the thing that this is a Five Times type fic and it works! It works so well and while we spend the fic ‘with’ Kylo, when we find out what Hux’s deal is, it is so satisfying! I Paint My Dreams

Marlon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685907/chapters/65090566

Words: 26,122

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:Kylo Ren is struggling to make a name for himself in the art world but as the grandson of the great Anakin Skywalker, a legendary pop artist of the 1950s and 60s, the weight of his famous family and his own expectations is a lot to bear.After he’s rejected from a prestigious exhibition because his installations “don’t fit the theme”, Kylo heads to the pub to drink away his disappointment. Later that night as he stumbles home, he’s set upon by some would-be thieves but before they can take what’s left of his money, he’s saved by a strange man with unbelievable Medusa-like powers. The ethereally beautiful man, Armitage Hux, is a visitor from Oweynagat and he has a simple proposition for Kylo - room and board in exchange for making all Kylo’s artistic dreams come true.Sounds easy - what could possibly go wrong?

My thoughts on the rec: Oh goodness, where to start? The Irish Mythology and Fae aspect of this fic is superbly woven throughout the whole thing and the author makes it work really well! Like, this is such a unique and original take on the kylux pair, I love them, especially Fae!Hux in this! And the plot is solid and you get invested really heavily in how they are gonna wind up-at least I did! There’s some beautiful language in this-descriptions and dialogue! And I have a soft spot for Artist!Kylo!

Dating a Monster

mysticmilks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904/chapters/65139415

Words: 30,401

Rating: Explicit

Summary:Ben Solo was raised to be a demon hunter, as everyone in his family has been before him. He wanted nothing more than to prove that he was worthy to his family. He lied to them and went on an unauthorized mission to catch and kill an elusive incubus. His search led him to Arkanis University, one of the most prestigious schools in the country.He was sure the mission was going to be easy, before he met the cute freshman Armitage Hux. This meeting would change the fate of both of them.

My thoughts on the rec: Add another really good one to the slightly-creepy-kylux subgenre filled with demons and dark powers! This is a great depiction of Kylo as a very determined demon hunter and Hux as a very unique quarry! I love the tension in parts of this too-well crafted! The Green Ribbon

xzombiexkittenx, Lilander (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630845/chapters/70176921

Words: 39,679

Rating: Explicit

Summary:When Ben was fifteen he left the Jedi temple and took extreme measures to prevent the shadowy creature that infiltrated his thoughts from dragging him to the dark side. What he did left him with a great deal of chronic pain and removed his most valuable weapon, but Ben got his stubbornness from every side of the family, even the adopted ones, and he was determined to find and kill the creature.Now Senator Amidala of Naboo, Ben uses his position to make the galaxy a less awful place when he can, but being senator also gave him very useful contacts in his search for the creature. When he met Major Hux of the First Order, Ben thought he could get game-changing information out of him, one way or another, but things rarely go Ben's way and it got complicated much faster than Ben had prepared for. It's never a good idea to mix sex and politics, but Ben takes his fun where he can get it.

My thoughts on the rec: I feel like this is a very original take on ‘Senator Amidala’ Ben, at least from the stuff I’ve read-many props to the author for such a fleshed out universe, filled with likeable, believable OCs, a wonderful plot, great character motivations and voices, and a take on our main man Ben that pulled me in from the get-go! He’s sorta magnetic (in universe and to the reader)! And the sexual tension and sexy bits are very well done! I’m rooting for Ben and Hux in this, on opposites sides though they may be! Comfort Zone

LydiaBSlade

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783797/chapters/65338117

Words: 66,766

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux is running away. He meets a tall, dark, and somewhat annoying stranger at the airport.

My thoughts on the rec: Travel writing at its best; also kylux fic at it’s best! Young, modern them trying to find their places in the world and finding each other in the process is so cute and almost tenderly done in this! This is a gentle, friendly version of modern Kylo that I fell in love with, right along with Hux! And by the way, I’m not kidding when I say travel writing-the southeast asian setting is vivid and enchanting in it’s rich detail! Outnumbered, Outgunned, Outmanuevered, and Winning

Coriesocks, Ellalba (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217253/chapters/69144672

Words: 80,372

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux’s plans for ridding the First Order of Kylo Ren are ruined when Ren discovers his deception. With no choice but to flee, Hux ends up in the hands of the Resistance. It’s not ideal, but at least he gets a break from Ren. Until he doesn’t.When Ren starts appearing in Hux’s dreams, Hux wonders if the stress of being a spy has taken more of a toll on his sanity than he’d previously thought. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he has to deal with constant pestering from Poe and a mildly inconvenient kidnapping. Of course, it’s Ren who saves him in the end. There’s clearly no getting away from him.

My thoughts on the rec: A really interesting take on something that is both a alternate rewrite of what could have happened instead of TROS and a TROS-fix-it of sorts! Hux is stellar in this, we really get a good look in his head and Coriesocks handles it masterfully! I really liked how their relationship develops gradually in this, it’s Enemies To Lovers at its best! Bloodlines and Brandy

EmperorsVornskr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989934/chapters/54963601

Words: 130,785

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Sebastian Hux is a native of the Deep South who loathes his origins, and seeks to pull himself from the stifling quagmire, but his bloodlines call him back to the property that has blessed- and plagued- his family for centuries.Unspoken secrets fill his inheritance, skeletons fill every closet, and a monster lurks in the shadows, tied to two bloodlines joined by fate, greed and hatred that has spanned across generations.As Hux learns about his family’s tainted legacy that has now become his burden, he discovers there is more involved than just having to be the curator of property that the locals shun with hushed whispers, that he has inherited more than an estate- he also has a terrible and loathsome horror tied to his very blood.When curious young locals come calling, and Hux’s past tormentors come out of the woodwork to simper and scrabble for a piece of the newly rich, the body count begins to rise, the smell of blood in the old slaughterhouse is getting harder to hide, and Hux realises that he will need to find a better way to pacify the hulking shadow that perches on his roof every night before his hometown’s tiny population is completely decimated.

My thoughts on the rec: This one is EPIC! Like, in length (which it needs every word of for the story that is going on here) and in the great portrayal of Kylo and Hux and their relationship! It’s super original too-not just the plot but the depiction of Kylo as something ‘other’ and the Southern Gothic vibes, and Hux-this is a wonderful take on Hux! He loses none of his edge, in my opinion and yet the reader is ‘with’ him all the way through, rooting for him! The descriptions are killer too-EmperorsVornskr has a felicity of expression that kept me reading (albeit in more than one sitting). Also worth noting that this is a wonderful and carefully handled depiction of trans!Hux, in my admittedly cis opinion. The theme of finding your tribe/your people/and your special someone in this, albeit in sometimes unexpected places is warming! I enjoyed every moment of this fic! Gravity Well

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062495/chapters/29879001

Words: 176,421

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Snoke is gone, but his death has solved nothing between Hux and Kylo Ren. The First Order's trust in their leaders wanes as they vie for power over one another, and if they cannot learn to work together, they may both lose everything they've worked for.Forging that alliance after years at each other's throats will not be as easy as letting the past die, however—they will face subterfuge, enemies in the shadows, treachery, and being stranded on a hostile planet with creatures out of nightmare, barely escaping constant danger with their lives while having only one another to rely on.And that is just the beginning.

My thoughts on the rec: I realize this one is very well known by now, but I’ll rec it again for good reason! It’s quality long-fic! I love how competent Hux is in this surival-style fic, even without the Force to save him! And Kylo is a badass! kyluxtrashcompactor is a master of the slow burn here and we’re even lucky enough to be getting a sequel (although Gravity Well will also stand perfectly on its own). The writing in this will draw you in and not let you go!

----

That’s all for now! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I did!�� 

[mystic-shadows42]

Lover's Quarrel

A/N: It’s been awhile since I wrote a piece for the Vikings fandom. Hope I haven’t lost my touch. Hope you all enjoy! Also, this one is a little more focused on Hvitserk rather than Ivar.

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader x Ivar

Warnings: Violence and mention of impregnation

Summary: A betrayal starts it all off making Hvitserk hurt and angry beyond anything else. He wants to shed blood, yours more specifically but Ivar won’t have it. He has other plans for you.

“How can she do this to us?!” Hvitserk stood up making his chair fall behind him in his sudden anger. “We’ve broken bread with her family! She grew up with us!” He paced around the room then stopped. “I love her.”

Hvitserk was trying to make sense of his love’s betrayal. He thought you’d always choose him and his brother Ivar than ever go against them. He was wrong. You chose your family over them.

“We must stick to the plan.”

Ivar brought up his hands and placed them just under his chin. He was deeply saddened by your betrayal but he didn’t want to show his men or Hvitserk just how much it was affecting him.

He needed some time alone to think of a plan to bring you back to him. One that’ll bound you to him forever without making you hate him entirely.

Once the battle ensued, Hvitserk was the first to break free and display the land red. He was fuelled with anger which showed.

When he spotted you out on the battlefield fighting too he was dead-set on what he was to do. Ivar followed his line of sight and knew that Hvitserk wasn’t in the right state of mind to face you just yet.

Hvitserk was about to rush forward but was pushed back by Ivar. They were both high on adrenaline but Hvitserk more so than everyone else. He’d been cutting down men and women left and right.

“I’ll kill her! I’ll do it!” Hvitserk yelled out, making his voice break at the end. 

“No! No you won’t! I can’t let you!”

“She’s betrayed us!”

Ivar brought his head close to Hvitserk’s so he had his full attention.

“If you kill her then you’d never forgive yourself. I’d never forgive you if you do.” Hvitserk huffed at his brother but understood beyond his anger coursing through him. “Brother, look at me. I need you to listen. If you grab her we can take her as our hostage. She’s the key to all of this. Are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Hvitserk huffed.

“Do anything to get to her but don’t kill her. Got it?”

Hvitserk had a newfound intent on pursuing you. He was a man crazed with ambition.

He found your right-hand man and went toe-to-toe with him. He was a skilled warrior but Hvitserk had already configured his flaws.

He had a weak knee so that’s what he struck for. When he was brought down to the ground he wasted no time in finishing him off.

“Y/N!” Hvitserk yelled your name through the endless cries of battles. “Y/N!” He drawled out.

When you heard your name being shouted you turned to see Hvitserk standing on a hilltop by Ivar’s chariot. He held up your longtime friend’s head. He smiled displaying his blood stained mouth looking ever more menacing.

So many emotions racked through you at once. Though the sadness quickly turned to anger. You had spent many years training with the man Hvitserk killed. He was like family to you after having been placed by your side as a bodyguard.

Hvitserk watched on as he saw you striking everyone down that got in your way. He felt empowered to see how much of a fierce warrior you’ve become. He should know since he was the one who’d basically trained you.

Hvitserk jumped down from the hill he was on as you began to approach.

You faced each other down. He was breathing heavily with a bloody smile on his face. He kept gripping his sword in his hand. He was ready.

“You really want to do this?” It was never your intention to hurt him but for the sake of your people and family, what other choice did you have? 

You could have always told him, that thought had never left your mind but Hvitserk was none too good at confrontation. He wouldn’t want to hear it. He would avoid it until it got too much to handle.

Then there was Ivar. He was always someone you could confide in but as of late you didn’t know if he was on the verge of being power hungry or just mad altogether.

“You’ve left me no choice.”

“I did what I had to do for my family. You of all should understand that.”

He turned his head looking at all the blood and death that was surrounding him. He looked back at you and lifted his head in the direction of the chaos.

“All of this is happening because of that decision. If you’d been with us. Things could have been different.”

“It’s just the way things have to be.”

“Oh yeah,” he sniffled and started to circle around you. “Let’s see what you can do then.”

You raised your sword just as he did the same. Hvitserk tapped the tip of your sword smiling then he swung at you.

You blocked it and tried pushing him back with as much energy as you could muster up but he was forcing all his strength down on your sword. He brought you down to one knee as you continued to block his sword with yours.

When you knew you couldn’t hold out much longer, you kicked his leg out making him drop to the floor. You quickly scrambled on top of him with your sword to his neck making him laugh.

His small fit of laughter had soon died down when you made no other attempt to hurt him. He looked into your eyes and clenched his jaw.

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course I did.”

“More than Ivar?” Hvitserk had never bothered to hide the fact that he was always jealous of his little brother.

“The same.” 

Hvitserk took your downcast look as an opportunity to flip you both over. He placed his hands over your neck shaking you.

“Tell me the truth?! After everything I’ve done for you! All that I shared! It was all for you! Now tell me who you loved more?”

He added more pressure onto your neck making you gasp. Tears were rushing from your eyes as you looked up at Hvitserk. 

It was unbelievable to think that just a few weeks ago he was staring down at you in this same position, only with kinder eyes and a gentler touch ready to leave his ways all behind and go away with you.

Ivar and Hvitserk shared you but as of late Hvitserk was starting to get more possessive. He was falling harder each time. He had always been with you.

Meanwhile, Ivar did break away to be with Freydis because he believed her when she spoke lies to him.

In that time, Hvitserk claimed you as his. He had never fallen so hard for one woman and the betrayal had hit him tenfold. He took it harder than anything else in his life.

When the time came that Ivar realized how rotten Freydis was, all he wanted was you back. He became obsessed with taking you away from Hvitserk.

“You,” your answer was quiet and strangled but Hvitserk heard. He pulled his hands away and looked at your face. “It was always you Hvitserk.”

Even in the midst of battle, Hvitserk leaned down and placed a small chaste kiss to your lips. You hadn’t reciprocated which didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. Before you even had the chance to speak he hit your head against the ground rendering you unconscious. He picked you up over his shoulder and carried you to Ivar’s chariot.

Once he placed you inside, Ivar was quick to inspect your injury behind your head. He placed his hand on the spot where Hvitserk struck you. He brought his fingers up showing Hvitserk the blood on them.

“She’s bleeding.”

“How else did you expect her to come willingly?”

Hvitserk was beyond irritated and confused. He didn’t know what to think or feel about the whole situation. He loved you but the betrayal is what stopped him. He wanted to harden his heart.

“You’ve damaged her Hvitserk. I didn’t want her hurt or have any more reason for her to distrust us.”

“More than she already does?! Look where we are at. We are in battle. She’s already lost to us.”

“She isn’t lost on me. She could love me again.” Ivar brushed your cheek with his fingers gently. When he smiled down at your unconscious form Hvitserk couldn’t help but become even more annoyed.

“Whatever. When we get back we’ll have her chained.”

“Chained?” Ivar was appalled by his brother’s nonchalant response. “She will not be chained like some animal Hvitserk.”

“Where do you expect her to be held at?”

“My room. We’ll keep the doors locked at all times but she will be treated as a guest no doubt.”

“A prisoner treated like a guest?” Hvitserk scoffed at the idea.

“Brother you are so hostile.” Hvitserk was unamused. “I thought you loved her?”

“She betrayed us. Lied to me!” Hvitserk couldn’t help but kick up the dirt and throw one of his daggers at a tree.

“Funny, that’s what you did to me, yet, here we are. Truth is brother, despite all you’ve done against me, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d be the one to kill you but Y/N convinced me otherwise. She saved your life.” Hvitserk paused and turned to look at Ivar. This was all news to him. His features softened and his shoulders relaxed as he thought of how you would actually do that to save him. “Once you put a baby in her, she’ll forgive us.”

“What do you speak of Ivar?” Hvitserk narrowed his brows and approached the chariot slowly.

“You’ll be the one to put a baby in her.  As you know, I cannot have children nor provide any for her, but you can. If she has a baby with you then she cannot be against us.”

“You’re sick, Ivar.”

“Is it not your wish to fill her with babies and be the father of her children?”

Hvitserk rested his hand on top of the chariot as he leaned forward. “Not like that.”

“Only time will tell,” Hvitserk backed away when he saw his brother’s condescending smirk on his face. He never knew just how far he'd go until now.

Tagged: @belovedcherry​ @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​ @soleil-dor​ @youbloodymadgenius​

[lovelyrots]

Runaway

Warnings - fluff, and it’s not too long

Papa Hawks makes a comeback in this short and sweet sequel to Safety while I’m beginning to work on some new work (mostly smutty) for mha and other fandoms

“Please can we go do something?” You plead with the teen left in charge of you, your hands clenched together and literally on your knees. “No.” Tokoyami simply says and you deflate.

“Why not?! All I’ve done today is sit in this house and wait. Can’t we just go to the pa-“ “No.” “Grrr fine! You’re my least favorite babysitter anyway!” You shout as you run to the room your papa and you have been using in your aunt’s apartment and slam the door shut.

“Stupid papa, and his stupid intern and stupid realtors….whatever those are.” You pout and plop onto the bed, your young wings twitching and ready for some excitement. You glance out the window, the swaying trees and swirling clouds taunting you with the freedom they possess.

You sit up as an idea takes root in your young mind, your wings ruffling in excitement. Quiet as a mouse, you sneak over to the window and with a few grunts manage to open it just enough for you to crawl out onto the fire escape just below. You look back inside, waiting to see if your warden heard anything, and carefully climb down the stairs until you reach the damp pavement down below.

“If Tokoyami won’t take me out then I’ll just have to do it myself. Besides, I’ll be back before anyone notices.” You tell yourself as you practically skip away from the building, a smile on your face and only thoughts of running or flying around the park on your under-stimulated mind.

You follow every rule your papa ever told you to do when you went out; keep your head down, tuck your wings in, and don’t talk to strangers or follow them anywhere. Luckily though, there aren’t many people out right now since it’s still quite early in the afternoon so you don’t have to worry too much about your wings getting ruffled by other people.

You hurry as the entrance to the park comes into view, your little legs propelling you towards the playground sanctuary. Your trip however gets put on pause when you’re yanked off the ground by the back of your shirt. You gasp and look up to meet the disappointmented gaze of your papa.

He sighs before hoisting you into his arms and heading back towards the apartment. “At least wait until you’re a teenager to sneak out, chickadee.” You shiver while the wind whips around you and attempt to cuddle into your father for warmth. “How’d you know?” You mumble into his shirt, your small fists clenching the fabric. “I was on my way back from looking at our new house, when I spotted a little runaway sneaking out through her window.” If you weren’t already shaking from the cold wind then you’d be shaking from the cold tone of his voice.

“I just-“ “Save it. You know better than to go anywhere by yourself, or without telling anyone.” You fall silent, any protests or complaints dying in your throat.

~

Keigo sighs as he walks into Rumi’s apartment, hopefully for the last time if everything goes according to plan. “Go ahead and head home, kid, I’ve got the prisoner now.” He jokes and pats Tokoyami’s shoulder as he passes by, intent on placing you back in your current room. “I’m sor-“ “Don’t worry about it, it’s partially my fault for thinking she’d do as she’s told and stay put. Thanks for watching her today, now go enjoy the rest of your weekend.” Keigo ends the conversation and heads into the bedroom, a group of feathers moving to the window and shutting it.

He sets you down on the bed and sits beside you, one of his wings cocooning you into his side, then tosses his visor onto the nearby nightstand.

“I know it’s been hard for you while I’ve been out working and looking for a new house but that doesn’t mean you can just sneak out and do whatever you want. There’s a lot of bad people out in the world, some of them are really angry at me and other heroes.”

You keep quiet, not looking to sink into any more trouble as he turns to look into your eyes. “Some may even try to use you to hurt me. That’s why you can’t just do whatever you want right now; if you want to go out then you need me or another hero with you so you’re safe. Tokoyami may be a hero in training but he’s still a kid, just like you, which is why I told him not to take you out anywhere. Do you understand?”

Your lower lip wobbles as you nod up at him and stifle a sniffle, the shame and guilt eating away at you. “Yes sir, I’m sorry.” He sighs, quiet and briefly, before taking you into his arms and rubbing your back in slow soothing circles. “As long as you understand then it’s okay. Once we get moved into our new house, I promise I’ll take some time off and do whatever you want until I have to go back, how’s that sound?”

You look up and he wipes your tears away from your tiny face. “You promise?” He nods and holds out a pinky, his face serious as he waits for you to raise yours. “I pinky promise.” You lock your pinkies together and he places a light peck on the top of your head before laying down, his arms keeping you safe and warm until you’re calm again.

‘I promise I’ll keep you safe, little bird, just don’t try to leave the nest too soon again.’ He strokes your hair and small wings as he makes a promise to himself, one that he intends to keep.

[malereader-inserts]

The Cat’s Manager

Fandom: Haikyu Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Male!Reader Summary: Kuroo has a range of friends. Word Count: 1,086 Request: Could you possibly do a Kuroo x Boyfriend!reader, where he's one of Nekoma's managers and he goes to check in on him but finds Tetsuro with the gym 3 squad hanging out and it's his first time meeting Tetsu's friends? If not that's totally fine! Just stoked that you're writing for Haikyuu now!! - ❤️❤️ A/n: I realised my timeline in this is fucked, but I didn’t want to rewrite it so I tried bending it about

You hadn’t been in training camp for the first day, you had been running errands to get the barbeque on the way, one that has been planned a few days in advance. So, when you actually returned to help out, watermelons were being served and whilst you were the only Nekoma’s manager, you managed to find the rest of the managers who welcomed you with open arms. You had met Karasuno’s manager before, the pretty third year, but you said hi to the new manager.

“Kenma!” You called out, the short boy perked up to hear your voice, “Watermelon?”

“Yeah, thanks,” His voice was soft, a smile appeared, “The team has been chaotic without you, especially Tora.”

“It’s Kiyoko, isn’t it?”

Kenma nodded, “Kuro is over there, by the way, he’s getting on my nerves.”

“When is he not annoying?” You sighed, “I’ll check up on him later, how have you been, Kenma?”

You like keeping Kenma company, he’s quiet but smart - he takes a liking to you and approves of you dating his best friend. You were a nice balance to his personality. And you have a good sense of the sport, after all, you used to play with the team. In fact, you were going to be ace of the team, until there was an accident where your knee was no longer at top shape and forced to quit volleyball. Luckily, Nekoma team allowed you to be a manager because you were able to help with training and exercise. 

Sometimes, Tora gets guilty to take your spot on the team, but you always reassure him that he did nothing wrong. It wasn’t his fault that floor was slippery, and when you were going for a receive you fell wrong - shattering your kneecap. 

You were so busy during the day that the only time you could see your boyfriend was after training was done and it was personal training. You hummed, a little limp to your walk as you look for Kuroo. You stumbled to hear Kuroo’s laughter ringing from gym three.

You poked your head through and was spotted by the Russian.

“(Y/N)!”

Kuroo snapped his head, mid-block, getting a spike to the side of his face from Akaashi. 

“LEV!” Kuroo shouted, rubbing his face.

“Are you okay, Kuroo?” Akaashi asked softly as the middle blocked nodded, waving him off.

Kuroo turned to look at you, waving his hand, a glint of excitement and happiness in his eyes, “Hey!” 

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You knew some faces, you’ve heard names thrown about in team chat. You were able to meet Kiyoko before the practice game between yours and her school before dipping out before you could meet Karasuno’s team because you were visiting your grandma, who lived in Miyagi. You often get lost in the crowd by Fukurōdani Academy’s setter and ace.

Bokuto not paying attention much and Akaashi’s attention always being on his ace. So, they would never glance your way unless there was something happening with you.

You entered the gym with a welcoming smile, “Hey guys.”

“Baby!” Kuroo ran to you, giving you a massive hug, “I’ve missed you.”

“I was gone for a day and a half.”

“Too long-” Kuroo whined as you chuckled, rubbing his hair, attempting to flatten it down.

“Erm, Kuroo, who’s this?” Bokuto asked as you tilt yourself to the side to look at him.

“Oh, I’m (L/n) (Y/n)! I’m Kuroo’s boyfriend and Nekoma’s manager.” You say, waving lightly with a cat Captain latching onto you, as he pouts, “Nice to meet you.”

“I know you, (L/n),” Akaashi says, looking at you, “I heard you had an accident, you were playing for Nekoma.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Can’t do much about it now.”

“Wait you can’t play?” Bokuto pouts at you, “That must suck!”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t mind helping out with techniques, I’ve got good game sense.” Akaashi nods, smiling a little, “I’ve heard the two of you. Bokuto Kotaro and his setter - Akaashi Keiji of Fukurōdani Academy.”

“Hell yeah! You’re pretty cool to be Tetsuro’s boyfriends.”

“Bo-!” Kuroo shouted at his companion, the owl smirked in his enjoyment to pick fun at the cat.

“Anyway, you two?” You look at the two other people.

“I’m Hinata Shoyo!” The small ginger-haired boy, jumped up, “What position did you play?”

“You can’t ask that,” The tall blond boy sneered, looking down at you with his glasses, “I’m Tsukishima.” 

“It’s okay, Tsukishima, I don’t mind,” You say, at least the blond boy had some manners to him, “I played wing spiker.”

“And almost the ace for the team,” Kuroo boasted, “Unfortunately-”

“I shattered my kneecaps.”

Everyone in the gym except you and Kuroo had cringed at the accident. You lifted your sweatpants to see the scar from surgery. Bokuto wanted to get to you closer so he could give it a good admirable stare, but Akaashi had tugged the back of his shirt to pull him back. 

“Hey, if you ever get annoyed with this piece of work,” You motion to your boyfriend, “I can always try to offer you some advice. After all, I would love to see a good game at nationals.”

You smile as you turned to your boyfriend, who was glaring at Bokuto and then sharply looking at Lev. You rolled your eyes at the captain of your team.

“I’ll see you later, you’ll be okay, right?” 

“Of course,” Kuroo’s voice was drawled out, a slight tease to his tone, “Go keep Kenma company.”

“Don’t give Lev a hard time.”

“Yeah, listen to (L/n)!” Lev shouted as Kuroo growled at him, making the half-Russian flinch back.

“Play nice, kitty,” You give him a peck on the lips, “I like your friends, they’re nice.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as you turn around to wave goodbye to the rest of them. Kuroo turns to watch his boyfriend walk out of the gym and head towards bedding arrangements. He looks back at the group of boys at the net.

“I like your boyfriend, Kuroo!” Hinata says, a smile never leaving his face, “He seems so cool!”

Kuroo was surprised to see Tsukishima nod in agreement. Bokuto looks even more hyped up, after your statement of wanting to witness a good game at nationals - it seems like it set off something in Bokuto, Hinata and Lev. 

“Well, once you get to know him more, he’s even cooler,” Kuroo speaks highly of you. 

And, well, he never wrong on a person’s personality. 

[angelkurenai]

Imagine Pedro being teased and questioned about how close he is with you, Gal’s adopted sister, and trying his best to hide the fact that you are actually dating.

“So, Gal, I am going to direct this question mostly at you but of course anyone can get to answer. I actually wanted to know your opinion about it.” Conan said, as Gal herself nodded her head with a smile.

“Oh, please, with pleasure.”

“There have been several photos, and I do not mean just from paps or professionals. Even you on your personal instagram posted a few. Which, to say the least, broke the internet as we all saw.”

“Yeah uh truth is my instagram wasn't working for several hours afterwards and I thought it was just me but then I kept asking others and got the same reply from everyone! Turns out, we caused a blackout of sorts.” Gal laughed, admitting to it before looking away in embarrassment while the rest of the cast nodded their heads as if almost giving her a a playful glare, even through the screen of the computer.

“And the reason behind that, who would have thought, a couple photos!” Jimmy nodded his head “Your sister, your adopted sister (Y/n), came to visit you on the set of Wonder Woman 1984. It was, for lack of better words, a historic moment not just for instagram who crashed because of the popularity of the photos but also for comic book fans worldwide. It was the closest we could get to a Marvel and DC crossover.”

“You say that because she was in her costume in some of them yeah?” Gal asked with a bright smile, always loving to talk about her little sister as Conan nodded his head “Yes, it was (Y/n)'s idea and everyone knows it, I can never say no to my little sister. Plus, she was right; we had so much fun fooling around in our costumes! I had more fun than I've ever had on a set of a movie before. And, yes, I almost always enjoy the movies I'm in, but this one- this one was truly something else! We- almost everyone, I think, played along as we acted as our characters and filmed some scenes just for laughs. I really really hope they make it into the bloopers somehow.”

“So you're planning on taking down youtube next, I see. I see.” the host nodded his head with playfully narrowed eyes, seeming all suspicious and making everyone laugh.

“No, no I swear! I don't want to!” she said in between laughter “We all had so much fun and an amazing time on set and in front of the cameras, playing superheroes that it would be incredible for the fans to see! It's- Really, it is kind of an unofficial crossover that should make it to the internet at least!”

“I'll have to-” Patty spoke up “I'll have to give it to Gal, she is right. (Y/n) had this amazing idea and creative at the same time because she had a small plot in her mind and lines and everything concerning the set. We all did a small setup and filmed it and, honestly, it came out to be real good!”

“Patty is no even exaggerating and Gal is certainly right. We had so much fun filming that small crossover, and (Y/n)'s ideas were brilliant! Fans will definitely love it!” Kristen said in addition.

“She truly is an incredibly talented, smart and creative person, besides an absolute darling. So kind to everyone and sweet, we all couldn't get enough of her. And-” Patty raised a finger “I will say it here once more because Gal has heard it before: the fastest we've filmed a scene in this movie. And it was all thanks to how professional she was, it was truly incredible!”

“Well, I can't ever deny it, my little sister is the biggest star there is! Oscars or other awards aside, she proves how great she is on every set on her own!”

“And you are definitely her biggest fan, as we all can clearly tell.” Conan pointed out with a small laugh “Speaking of, I think we do have someone who could only be described as your main rival on that sweet stop of being your sister's number one fan. Someone who hasn't been shy about expressing his admiration about (Y/n) but who has yet to utter a word.” Conan looked back up from his papers and said someone almost felt his heart jump in fear and nervousness, hoping that at least nobody noticed that he was indeed being silent for a reason “Pedro, you're being uncharacteristically quiet about this one, especially for something that caused Instagram to crash within thirty minutes of the photos being uploaded. I'm not- I'm not used to this from you. Come on, talk to me. Say what's on your mind.”

“This is oddly- I'm getting strange deja vu vibes here. Must be cause of that one time I visited a therapist. Long story short, it was only one session for me and about hm at least 25 for him. I heard he's still going to a therapist now.” he shrugged casually, earning laughter from everyone. He chuckled slightly himself, glancing over the screen of his computer while trying his best to keep anything from showing on his face even more so his smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean-” he cleared his throat “Ah man, what else can I say? The ladies have spoken, and they've said exactly what- I believe anyone that gets the opportunity to work with (Y/n) or watch her movies would agree she is one of a kind.” he shrugged softly with an adorable smile “Besides, it feels like anything I say is just going to be used against me, so I- I better keep on silently observing. That does seem like it's the safest option here.”

Pedro's laugh was more of a nervous if not awkward one, but he was pretty confident it was just no different to how he would usually laugh away questions he didn't want to answer in interviews. Most celebrities did the same, he wouldn't be the first nor the last, so he didn't expect Conan to insist any further. He didn't want to push his luck, he had been really successful (if not blessed after all these close calls) with all these online interviews to not have everything revealed by accident, so now especially with the current topic, he didn't feel like messing things up. He loved this privacy, he didn't want to lose it not yet, he wanted you and this all to himself for now. And he wanted the story of how you met, of how over that one month and a half on set he felt himself fall in love with you.

And yet... Yet, he was probably a weak man, a man who couldn't help but indulge even if he knew it could probably get him in trouble. You were worth it, though, you were worth all of it and as you were his weakest spot and so indulge he did. He slowly chewed on his lower lip and he so subtly looked over the screen of his computer.

His eyes fell on you, still splayed on his bed, book in one hand and steaming mug on the nightstand – your nightstand on your side of the bed, the thought of which made his heart flutter inside his chest – hair slightly messy, that oversized Mandalorian shirt on, which you'd gotten all excited amongst many many more fandom related toys a couple months ago and couldn't wait for him to see. A shirt which had, inevitably, ended up being taken off you barely ten minutes later starting from him stealing kisses and leading to the two of you making love till the very morning in between endless giggles. The pup you'd gotten – the both of you – not so long ago made a small noise drawing your attention for a short moment as you kept petting him, the both of you too tired to do anything else after an exhausting day of playing. Pedro couldn't complain, although he'd been a part of it he had mostly spent time filming everything even if you hadn't been the one to ask him to, he couldn't help it.

It was something that the both of you decided on and although you hadn't said it out loud, you both knew and at least Pedro hoped, that it was the next step, a very important one, in your relationship besides you moving in with him. To be responsible for another living being together was, if not a test, at least a way to see how well you could cooperate. And, if he could say so himself, you had been doing great so far.

“Good morning, darling. Here for morning kisses? Yes? Come up here.” your giggles were able to warm him more than the sunlight coming through the window “Ooooh someone really loves mommy, don't you?”

And then your words set his entire being alight. Or more specifically that one particular word.

“Well-” he stretched a bit, his arms finding your waist again to bring you closer and cuddle with you “Who doesn't love mommy in this house?” he couldn't help it as his smile turned into a lovestruck grin “Morning, mi amor.”

“Good morning, darling.” you pecked his lips “And don't worry, mommy loves daddy back, enough to make up for the rest of the world.”

As if reading his mind, you chose to look up from your book at him, smiling as you held his gaze for a good few seconds. So much love was evident, even in those few seconds, he could almost feel his own heart burst. Yet another reason for him to control his reactions from showing just how much on high on happiness and love he was. You shook your head, eyes wide as you heard Conan speak again, you playfully mouthed to him “Focus!”

As subtly as possible he tried to clear his throat and taking the mug of coffee that was beside his computer, he took a sip and decided to focus on it as much as he could. Until the subject changed, at least.

“...Wise man. I feel you, so don't worry I'll leave you to it.” if only he knew the big sigh of relief Pedro tried to hold back as Conan continued “It's the tactic I follow 99% of the time when I'm out with my wife, just smile and wave kind of thing. Alright-” he nodded his head in thought “Alright, well, let me ask you all something else. You keep saying in front of the cameras and talking about this small crossover, but I assume she must have been around for longer than that, yes?”

“Yes, yes she was there for at least a month, a month and a half I think. She was on vacation, after being done with filming, and she decided that before heading home that she'd come by and visit us. It was meant to be for a short period of time. She loved the place... the people, perhaps, how could I know for sure?” she shrugged not looking innocent in the least bit, earning a few laughs.

“Anyway-” she cleared her throat “And you see before she knew it, before we all did, one week turned into two turned into three and so on. It-” she chuckled “She was around on set and with us on all those beautiful locations we were in. And while we were all working and walking around with purpose and the need to finish this scene with so much pressure on- on our shoulders and she was just sitting around with a iced coffee or tea on her hand, sunglasses on and phone on the other hand looking she didn't have a single care in the world. It kind of made everyone a little bit jealous to be honest.”

“A little? Cause I sense that there's more than you're letting on, Gal. Come on, spill the tea.”

“Alright more than a little.” she laugh “I mean, it wasn't all the time, of course. Just the first couple days mostly but you can imagine how it was. It seemed like she did it on purpose sometimes.”

“Twistin' the knife even deeper, that's what she's best at. Oh I know!” Conan nodded his head “I'm actually afraid to invite her on the show because I fear how bad she'll roast me. Andy-” he laughed “Andy is the only one who has the most fun during those interviews.”

“I know right? Boy you tell me!” Gal exclaimed “That little shit. I adore her to no end but I really had the hardest of time when she was around. She just had to make comments on everything she could, especially when I was acting. I couldn't stop laughing sometimes, but nobody got mad at her. It was always my fault somehow!”

“I mean she's just so sweet, how could we be mad at her?” Patty added.

“She messed up so many of my scenes!” Gal pretended to be angry but her smile gave it away “But it's true, I couldn't even be mad at her. I don't get to see her that often, because of the work we both do, so I would give anything to have my sister with me like that every other chance I got. Even if I got all the blame for it, there's nothing I wouldn't do for her, you understand.”

“Aw that's- that's incredibly sweet, actually. It's- that's the exact opposite of me and my brother so no I can't really understand to be honest, but alright.” Conan laughed “Well, then, you really got your chance this time, right? You had the opportunity to spend all this time with her. When you were not working of course.”

“I...” Gal trailed off, her smile turning into a mischievous one but the rest of her expression trying to remain innocent, and failing at it because she truly wasn't even trying “Well, I would say yes. And I would agree with you. And I would even ramble about the wonderful two months I spent with my sister... If that had been the case. If I had really seen her for more than a week total, then yeah I would say that.”

“Wha- P-Pardon me?” Conan blinked in surprise “Didn't you j-just say your sister was with you on set for about two months? Or have I been in a parallel universe all this time and I just now came back to our reality?”

“Oh no it's very much our reality but I also did mean what I said. My sister was on set, and I did see her quiet often. But did I spend almost all of my free time with her? Did she spend hers with me? Nope. And that-” again with a far-from-innocent shrug “That is probably the only question I can answer. What she did? Did she have fun?... Who she was with? I wish I knew. What I know is I wasn't the one closest to her on set.”

“So you're telling me, (Y/n) was on set full of people she didn't really know, and you, her sister, barely spent any time with her? I'm gonna assume the rest of you didn't spend more time with her compared to Gal, right?” he asked and got nods from everyone, well, everyone who had their eyes on their screen and therefore looking at Conan, because there was still one that would avoid eye-contact even through the screen “Well, then, who was closest to her on set, if not you?”

“She, well-” Gal paused, smile all too sweet as she added “There could be someone...”

Said someone who couldn't even look up from his mug of coffee, as if it was the most interesting thing in the entire world, and didn't dare say a word for fearing of messing things up; even if his silence spoke volumes as it was. A silence which was... even more intense than before. Even more... real. Probably because it wasn't just in his head, probably because it wasn't just from his part.

Blinking several times, he slowly raised his head to look up from his mug and at the screen of his computer. Only to be met with the eyes of the rest of the group staring at... well, they were staring at the screen of their own computers but for some reason – a reason which he knew all too well – he felt like all eyes were suddenly on him. And they probably were. Because Gal was being nice about it but almost everyone had noticed how much time you had spent with Pedro during those almost two months. You had just met back then so they didn't imply anything back then but now... now they could just as well do so.

“I-” he laughed and he hated how nervous he sounded “Is it time to talk about my character?” he asked almost shyly, nearly praying on the inside that they would say yes and let him change the subject “Well, Max Lord is a guy who-”

“Are you trying to change the subject there, Pedro? One can wonder why.” Conan narrowed his eyes “Come on, don't be shy. Share your opinion here, or maybe your personal experience. Since I am assuming you do have one?”

“Yes, Pedro, why don't you share your opinion with us?” Gal raised an eyebrow, small smirk on her lips “You've been particularly interested in that drink the past couple minutes apparently.”

“I-” Pedro paused, before shaking his head with a laugh “This is going to be a long interview. I can tell.”

[itwoodbeprefect]

hellooooo 🎢 🤩 🍦and. bc i saw your last answered one and i'm being mean. ✨

shaking my fist. devilish!

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

for me, or for my readers? for me, oof, probably one of the longer things. i’ve been sending you updates about the starsky watches westerns fic, which i’m in the throes of now, but Coming Up Aces was also a Whole Thing last year (or actually in 2021, mostly), because it just would! not! be finished!

also. i think Rare and never simple deserves a weird little shoutout for being a birthday fic that i finished three months late, largely because it’s one of the longest things i’ve ever posted to ao3 even though it’s for a fandom i’m not in and a ship i have no particular feelings about one way or the other, while it’s somehow also one of the only fics i’ve ever written that keeps getting “oh i cried” as a response.

for my readers... well, depends on your mileage, of course, but it’s probably the jesus christ superstar fic that never made it to ao3. a significant percentage of comments for that one included an understandable “what the hell i thought this would be crack” sentiment.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write? 

overall, i think maybe john sheppard (of stargate atlantis fame)? he’s repressed in all kinds of ways, he’s queer in even more, people somehow think he’s cool but right under the surface he’s a huge dorky nerd, women keep throwing themselves at him and he keeps going “???” at it, he’s the hero of the story but he’s a giant slacker, he’s got a huge martyr streak but he does (probably) want to live, he loves his people so so much but he Cannot Show It, he chose the biggest asshole self-involved socially awkward supergenius as his best friend who he’s maybe pining for endlessly, and oh, the weird mix of pride and pressures that come with being responsible for the safety of others in an environment where you’re never going to be able to keep them safe - just so much interesting stuff. but most of all, joe flanigan’s face does many weird things at all times, and it’s never not fun trying to come up with ways to put that into words.

🍦 What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

huh. genuinely a difficult question! i’ve definitely written some stuff that in hindsight i think might... verge on being too sweet? but for pure sugar that i think still works, it’s probably something like In my dreams I have a plan (If I got me a wealthy man) or Get A Room, or: Three times Magnus and Alec were gratuitously in love and obliviously domestic about it or Flowers for no reason but you missed me. (respectively h50, shadowhunters and starsky&hutch). or. any of at least a dozen other little fics.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

you know, after i answered this the first two times it occured to me that i could have just gone "i did this one, here's a link!" but by then i'd already set a precedent and now i have to keep going, so: i'm good at writing short fic! 1-3k is a particular sweet spot where i think i have enough room to say something (even if it's just something silly) but it's still very bite-sized, and over the years i've grown pretty good at both beginning and ending stuff that short while still leveraging it into having some sort of meaning in between.

send me emojis (if you want)! 🌈  

[centaurianthropology]

Predictions for Season 2 of OFMD

Now I may be an idiot for treating that as an inevitability, but it’s been 9 weeks after the show ended in which it’s been the #1 in demand streaming show on the internet, and only fell to #2 for 1 week to ‘Strange New Worlds’ before reclaiming the spot.  Unlike other cancelled shows, there is no economic reason to cancel it, and HBO Max is a business at the end of the day.  So I’m going to treat it as a ‘when’ rather than an ‘if’.

I’ve been reading a lot of fan predictions for season 2, and while there are some good ideas out there, most of fandom seems to forget one major thing about the show: it’s a COMEDY.  I know fandom loves its angst and its pain, so all the predictions are angsty and painful.

But this show is deeply silly, goofy, and fun.  So here are my predictions for season 2, predicated on that.  I am probably going to be wrong about a lot of this, of course, but it’s fun to speculate about how to keep a comedic tone given the setup of the season finale.

Season opens with a wind-swept lightning storm on the deck of the revenge.  Very dramatic.  Operatic even.  Up come the grappling hooks.  Blackbeard’s crew are at the ready.  And on swarm the old crew of the Revenge.  They all look piratey, but in that way that also suggests they raided a second-hand store with the theme of ‘gay pirates’ in mind.  And up comes Stede Bonnet (plus or minus beard, but I think plus).  He makes his way to Blackbeard.  Swords clash and ...

Flashback.  We now have a hook.  With that we get the real meat of the first three episodes, cutting back and forth between the crews.  On the revenge, Ed is being miserable and ‘haunted’ by Lucius (who is indeed living in the walls and is PISSED), while trying to recapture his Blackbeard image every time he leaves the great cabin.  This side of the story has a lot of very dark comedy, but still has a lot of comedic beats.  I think Lucius may even be roped into being Blackbeard’s ‘ghostly’ therapist.  Jim and Frenchie and maybe Fang are planning an escape or a mutiny.

Meanwhile, Stede and his crew of muppets have reunited, but need more than a dinghy to catch up to the revenge and get back their crew.  Stede’s main conflict is sympathy with Ed conflicting with siding with his crew.  I think he will eventually come down on his crew’s side, knowing that he has to confront Ed about their treatment (following along with the theme of Stede being their stand-in parent from last season).  He may love Ed, but Ed didn’t come after Stede while he was hurting, he came after the crew, and that is unacceptable.  So Stede and the crew comedically steal another ship.  In my mind, the new ship is terrible.  Just a leaky, sad little thing that they hold together to the best of their abilities.  It has the weird effect of making all of them better sailors and better pirates, but still in the weird way they have.  They are now doing proper pirate raids, but keep stealing dumb things like tar or more rope or sail patches or food or books.  Stede is trying to be ‘piratey’ for the crew, but is in secret hoarding nice fabric and clothes and books in his cabin, setting up a conflict between Stede’s softer wants and his feeling that he needs to be strong now.

At the end of episode 3, we are back where we began.  The crew catches up with the Revenge.  They board.  Swords clash and ... everything goes to hell.  Because unbeknownst to them, there’s been a third party coming for all of them this whole time.  

Enter Benjamin Hornigold, Blackbeard’s old mentor turned English pirate hunter.  We now have our main villain for the season.  The duel between Stede and Blackbeard is unceremoniously interrupted as everyone scrambles to escape the English.  Stede’s old ship is sunk in the process.  They get away, but barely, and only by working together.  They agree that, while Hornigold is on their asses, they have to be one crew and co-captains again, but tensions are still high for about an episode.

But Stede’s crew also brings the muppet-ness back to the Revenge, and neither Ed nor Izzy can really stop them slowly taking back over.  And really, Ed doesn’t want them to fail.  He finds out Lucius is not a ghost, and that the crew is happy.  Stede and he have one really impressive shouting match that ends in another kiss.  The crew audibly groans that they got back together so easily after everything, but are also relieved that things are less tense, and the captains are working out their shit.  Over the course of the middle three to four episodes they become a crew again through a series of silly one-off adventures while trying to keep ahead of Hornigold.  Hornigold is also playing head-games with Ed similarly to how the Badmintons played head-games with Stede last season, and Ed is struggling to keep it together, but also to balance wanting to be Edward with needing to be Blackbeard.  Both Ed and Stede go on a journey of learning how to be hard when necessary, but still soft and kind to those around them, and to themselves.  It’s very sweet, and punctuated with shenanigans.

The last three to four episodes (my bet is on 4) consist of one wild adventure as it feels like Hornigold is winning, catching up, fucking with Ed’s head, etc.  But we realize in the last one or two episodes that Ed has actually grown as a person, and Hornigold hasn’t gotten through to him.  Instead, he an Stede and the crew have constructed an elaborate Rube-Goldberg machine of a fuckery that plays out in hilarious detail to get them well and clear away from Hornigold.  I’m ambivalent on Hornigold dying or surviving to swear revenge and come back next season.  Either one has good potential.  

Anyway, the season ends on a slightly less cliff-hangery note, with the Revenge finally being one big happy family again, and Stede and Ed back together to face whatever comes next.

Now, obviously, any or all of these predictions could be wrong, but I liked trying to put my head into a comedy space and to figure out how to take the setup at the end of season 1 and keep it in the same comedic vein.  This is what I came up with.  I welcome other ideas in the comments, of course!  I just don’t think they’re going to drown in angst, even with the Kraken plot, because this is a comedy, and they would find the dark humor even in that story-line, only punctuated with moments of true pathos.

[palbabor-writes]

Latibule

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks & hypochondria, adult language, eventual SMUT

Words: 9790

His usual spot at the cafe is taken, and he’s already decided to keep walking on, but somehow, somehow, he manages to catch your eye.

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink, a pleased smile on your soft lips.

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you.

Notes: hi. this is my first real foray into the world of Haikyuu!! & i’m so excited to branch into this fandom! if this is your first time reading my stuff imma warn you, i take things slow, so expect some slow burn. 

this will be a multi-chapter fic with eventual NSFW/18+ only content. i will post warnings for each update. i’ll also link other chapters on this page and any other pages that come up, so keep in mind that there will be edits to links as things progress - i wasn’t planning on this being anything more than a one-shot, but this first exploration of Sakusa’s character turned into a monster & i wanna really hone in on that sweet, sweet build up. 

big, huge shoutout to @wickedfaerytale & @albinoburrito​ for their edits and suggestions. y’all are amazing and i love you both so much, this fic wouldn’t be what it is without the two of you. 

Latibule /lat-i-bule/ noun a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort 

pt. i: an opening 

[ pt. ii: four set ] ||

It’s a quiet coffee shop. 

He likes that about it. He likes it almost as much as the simple fact that he can tell what day of the week it is by the smell of the disinfectant and bleach that’s being used behind the counter. 

There’s a strange comfort to this place’s consistency and Kiyoomi Sakusa likes to linger here, propping his MSBY issued volleyball bag beside his usual table. He’s already placed his coffee order with the cheerful man who guards the cash register, watching as his paper cup is marked with a fresh sharpie and placed on the bartop, beside the elbow of that barista who always attentively turns to wash her hands before making each new order.

He had stumbled upon the shop his senior year of college and he’s haunted it ever since, content to sip on a smooth cortado as he watches over the latest plays from the MSBY games, mapping out his overestimations, his successes, and his flukes in his notebook– carefully lined kanji listing out what worked and what needs some extra practice. The caramel sweet flavor of the ristretto shots always helps to relax him, his broad shoulders lowering, the ache of self-induced tension and overworked muscles easing as his drink cools between his fingers, finally sinking fully into the plush leather seat of his clean chair.

The young woman, he should know your name, but he’s never caught a proper glimpse of your name tag, because you’re always moving, gives him a familiar lifting of smooth lips and places his completed drink on the handoff plane. You know his personal preferences well enough that you’re already moving the caddy of lids and cardboard sleeves forward, so he can select his own from the neatly stacked row. He gives you a cursory nod and his calloused fingertips pull the frothy beverage into his hands, cupping the curved sides and taking a deep drag of air through his masked nose, inhaling the bright smell of fresh coffee.  

And…vines…or is it a tangy pine? 

There’s something else that’s tickling his senses, and he blinks toward you, dark brows knitting together, a misplaced curl of inky hair brushing against his forehead, trying to make sense of the smell. His chin lifts and his head tilts, eyes watching your polished movements as you move onto the next drink in line. It’s definitely got some floral notes, but it’s not cloyingly sweet, like honeysuckle or gooseberry–no, it’s got some kind of balmy spice to it. It returns when you move closer and he swears he can taste summer when you shift back. 

Odd. 

When you look up at him again, he’s already stepping away, his running shoes squeaking across the slate tiles, making his way back to his bag and table. The aroma of your perfume is half forgotten when he cracks his laptop open, squirting some hand sanitizer across his chapped palms before he starts to clack his fingertips across the dark keys. He needs to get more lotion; he thinks as the sterile solution cools between his splayed fingers, this weather always dries his skin out.

The next time he comes in he spies you at the back of the shop, jotting something down in a large binder before kneeling behind the counter, returning with a sparkling, grated drain top. The white gleams under the accented lighting and he watches as you thumb at the paint, denoting a splotch of rust that rests under the dip of the metal. You return the cover to the ground and immediately twist to the hand washing sink that rests behind the bar, lathering up some dispensed soap and methodically stroking from the tips of your fingers to your wrists. A steady puff of steam is rising around you as he places his order– 

[ a oat milk smoothie, with an extra scoop of protein powder, chia seeds, turmeric, kale, cucumber, dash of dates for sweetener ] 

and by the time he’s paid and padding toward his usual spot, you’re finishing up, yanking a few disposable paper towels from the overhead dispenser and gingerly drying your damp hands. 

He’s seen you wash your hands plenty of times before, but he finds himself distractedly following your movements this afternoon as he waits for his order and his computer to finish booting up. You catch his obsidian eyes when you turn around and give him a brief smile; a flash of teeth peeking through your lips before you move back to your binder. You jot down a few more notes as you move onto the fridges that sit under the countertops, pulling and prying at the gaskets that line the doors of the whirring chillers, speaking softly to a fellow employee, pointing out the missed stains and chipped flecks of ice that like to hide within the folds of the protective plastic. 

You’re not overbearing in your coaching, keeping your tone even and friendly, focusing on what can be done going forward, rather than lingering on the ‘what if’s’ and ‘why wasn’t’ of the situation.

Practical, efficient, thorough with your work, and careful with your craft. 

Those descriptors float to the forefront of his mind as he takes his smoothie from the barista that’s standing beside you. He lets his gaze hold against your half leaning form, watching the lead tip of your pencil mark over the stark red checklist that you’re working your way down. 

He’s not sure why he’s so focused on you. He’s never thought much about you. You’ve been someone that exists in the background, part of his routine to be sure, but he justifies that your attention to detail is likely the reason why he prefers this shop to the dozens of other coffee houses that litter the main street by the MSBY training facilities and stadium. Your head shifts, and he can tell you can feel his gaze, so he swiftly plucks up his icy cold cup, his nose involuntarily trying to seek out that perfume you’d been wearing the other day. 

Strange. His brow furrows, and he hunches into his sports jacket, walking back to his chair and his glowing computer. He can’t smell it today. Maybe you’re too far away, or perhaps you’d forgotten to put it on before coming in.

Pity. He’d liked it.

“Running a little late today, I see,” your voice snaps him out of his stupor, onyx eyes lifting to rest against your open expression. 

“Kind of,” he replies blandly, his deep cadence muffled by the pull of his mask.

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be late! Want me to push your drink to the front of the queue? I’ve got the power to do that, you know,” you tease, tilting your head as a mischievous grin settles over your quirked lips. Kiyoomi blinks impassively down at you and shakes his head. How would he even reply to something like that? You were joking, right? You must be. And if you weren’t, the people who are clustered around the handoff plane would certainly realize that he was being given his drink first, clearly ahead of all of theirs, and they’d probably toss him a few disgruntled stares or mouthy jabs, and likely accuse you of playing favorites. 

Wait. Favorites? 

Does he count as a ‘favorite’ here? He looks away, lips drooping into a pursed line. You’ve always been…nice…but there’s no way he’s a favorite of yours. He’s hardly spoken to you in the year and a half that he’s been coming here. But is that all it takes? Just take up space in the cafe a few times a week and get special treatment? 

No. You must be joking. 

All the same, your jovial tone and that welcoming smile is a little intriguing.    

He shuffles closer to the heat of the espresso machines, easily lifting his head over the lip of the bronze metal, watching you. You’re looking down now, fingers gripping the dark handle of the portafilter, holding it under the buzzing grinder to gather a fine sprinkle of dusky espresso grounds into the waiting basket. Then, you lift a lustery tamp to the heaping mound and press expertly against the delicate remains of the arabica, packing them to an even level before clamping the filter under the display of the machine. When you flick the switch that activates the group head you must sense his stare and lift your eyes to his, eyelashes momentarily fluttering against your cheeks when you spy his unabashed observations of you.

For a second, your hands falter, trapped within the unexpected intensity of his curious gaze, and you pat blindly for the cup that’s sitting to the right of your curled arms, embarrassingly disarmed by his transparent focus. But once your grip wraps around the waiting plastic, it seems to ground you and you let out a huffing chuckle, eyes crinkling up at his half obscured face. 

“I’m only kidding about moving your drink up, don’t worry, I won’t get you in trouble. Besides, it’s against our policy. First come, first serve and whatnot,” you assure him, halting the stream of water that’s pouring the carefully timed flow of espresso into the clear shot glass that’s waiting against the gleaming metal of the drip tray. 

“You’re busy today,” he notes, jerking his curly head toward the gaggle of college students sprawled across some of the bigger tables, their laughing voices and overly loud conversations easily drowning out the hum of lofi jazz that’s playing from the recessed speakers.

“Ah, yeah, finals are coming up for a lot of us that go to the university. I know my classes are starting to gear up for that last push and sometimes you just need a pick me up and coffee is great for that. We also get a big boost from the smoothies and frappes that we sell in the afternoons, so we get a little packed. Most of our sales happen during the weeks leading up to finals and midterms, uh, anyways, not that you asked for an economic lesson on a small cafe’s profit margins.”

“You’re a student?” he asks, head dipping back, eyes glittering in the lights. Wait. How old are you? Not that he can boast any sort of seniority on that front, he’s only 24 after all, but you just seemed, hmm, more mature? He didn’t picture you as a co-ed. Not that he’s actively picturing you when he’s not here. Well, he is a little recently, but you’ve always felt sort of timeless? Ageless? Is that the right term? You give off an air of confidence. So he’d assumed that you were older than him. Not in a bad way, in fact he’d sort of like it if you were. Why, that is, he’s not willing to look too deeply into, at least, not right now. Maybe later, when he gets back home and can…oh, you’re talking again.

“I’m a graduate student, but not for much longer. I’m finishing up my dissertation this week! Thank God. This semester has been the pits, I’m so ready for a break!” You sound genuinely happy and he can smell that faint aroma of your perfume each time you move. 

“Congratulations,” he murmurs, unsure if you’d heard him since you’re stepping away from the machines that he’s posted himself behind. He watches you set up two steaming drinks, topping them with a lazy swirl of silky, housemade, whipped cream, a crosshatch drizzle of caramel, carefully snapping a set of black plastic lids on top, before calling out the handwritten names and handing them off to their respective owners. Then you’re back, hands already unhooking the portafilter, knocking out the used espresso pucks into the trash and bringing him back to that spicy smell of summer that sits on your skin.

“Haha, it’s a little early for a congratulations. Don’t jinx me, will’ya? But seriously, thanks, that’s nice of you to say,” you continue, flowing easily back into this half-hearted conversation he’s accidentally struck up with you. He winces at that thought and dips his hands deeper into his jacket, hunching his shoulders into a habitual slouch that he instinctively imposes upon himself when he’s out in public.

“You want a lid?” you question over the hiss of the machine, and he lifts his head, finding your bright eyes through the misting remains of the cleared steam wands. 

“No.” His response is clipped, and he gulps down a sudden burst of hazy anxiousness when someone brushes past him, jostling him closer to the low wall that divides the bartop from the cafe floor. He braces himself against the warming top of the machine, his large palm steadying himself, shoulders caving forward, his dark curls falling over his eyes, obscuring his face further. He clenches his jaw, a scowl blooming over his lips. 

His social anxiety isn’t anything new, and it’s likely exacerbated by the bustle of the nearby college students, who seem to be getting louder by the second. The noise is needling under his skin. He starts his carefully ingrained breathing exercises, tugging in a deep stream of air through his flared nostrils. 

But the smell is coffee is too overwhelming and suddenly his ritual doesn’t help much. 

He can feel blood leaving his fingertips and toes, or as his cousin Komori puts it [ the inescapable dread of some imagined ailment, which is making him think that his body is rushing blood from his extremities to his vital organs, his fingertips cold, hands shaking, when in reality ‘you’re just feeling unsure of yourself, man. It’ll be ok in a minute, promise!’ ] 

But in the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone calls it, or how they think he should feel during these heart pounding moments, he just knows that he wants to get out of here, now. 

His agitation must have twisted the top half of his expression because the feel of your warm fingertips against his wrist jerks him out of his head, causing him to suck in an unsteady breath as he lurches backwards, pulling away from your offending touch.��

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think…I just…” you bite your lip, a look of stark worry passing over your usually open features. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Are you…are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts, teeth clenched, right leg bouncing in place against the tiles. Shit. It’s not like he could have predicted that you’d try to touch him, so you can’t really blame him for his misplaced reaction. Just get him his coffee and he’ll be on his way…

Come on…come on…

“Here you go. Sorry for the wait, Sakusa,” you lift on your tiptoes, the stretch of your legs and arms apparent as you hold his cup out, careful to balance yourself against the lever of the steam wand. He takes the proffered drink and nods his thanks at you, his gaze dark. The gesture might be a little strained, and he knows you likely think he’s some kinda freak at this point, but he’s glad to see your customary smile before he turns, shouldering his way out the door and into the promise of open air.  

“Stop being so secretive about this place. It’s not like you can’t search for it online, Omi Omi. I saw you come in with the logo of their shop last week and I wanna try it out. Don’t cha’ gimme that look, I deserve to have good coffee too! And if it’s close by you can’t just keep it to yourself! Think about the rest of us, huh? Besides, I think they’d like to see something other than yer’ prickly face every once in a while.” Golden haired Atsumu Miya, his fellow teammate and setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, has been walking beside him for five blocks, jabbering on about the bland offerings of the big box coffee chains that surround their home gym, and how he hasn’t had a good cup of coffee in days. Tch, he’d said months originally, but that was an obvious lie. After all, Kiyoomi pointed out, slipping his mask on before the two stepped into the strong midday sun, he’d come in with an iced coffee two days ago, proclaiming to the whole team it was the best he’d ever had, bar none. 

“It’s a small shop,” Kiyoomi glumly elaborates, his dark hair soaking up the rays of sunlight as they crossed the bustling pedestrian walkway. “I think it’s run by an American. The staff speaks English, besides Japanese. There’s one barista in particular, a young woman, she has–”

“English? Oh, hell yeah! I can practice! This is perfect! They got any specialty drinks? I couldn’t see any from the menu that they had online, but I told ‘Samu I’d send him a picture of the place.”

Hmph, what’s the use of bothering to hold a conversation with this guy, Kiyoomi thinks, obsidian eyes narrowing as his brows furrow over his scrunched face, watching Atsumu chatter on about the vague sampling that he’d seen on their website. He’s not listening, anyway.

The coffee shop bell dings as the two of them step into the space, greeted by a waft of freshly ground coffee and the sharp tang of disinfectant. “Ahhh,” Atsumu says, propping his hands on his trim hips and fixing Kiyoomi with a pointed look, “totally see why you like the place. It smells like they have a freaking bleach, whaddya call those, ah, an air freshener! Yeah, smells like they have an ‘eu de bleach’ wall plug in.” 

“It’s clean,” Kiyoomi affirms, his own hands sliding into his pockets, fingers wrapping around his wallet as he steps into the line. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Not at all,” Atsumu grins, resting an arm on Kiyoomi’s shoulder as he glances over the chalkboard menu. “Just can tell that must be why you like this place so much. Bet you huff cleaner as soon as you get home.. Speaking of, I still need to see your new apartment, heard you let Ushijima come by and that’s not fair at all. Kinda– ow! Omi, ya’ friggin ass!” 

Kiyoomi jerked his arm upwards as he stepped toward the register and the abrupt displacement sent Atsumu’s hand flying up, managing to perfectly strike himself on his nose as he attempted to counterbalance his sudden shift in momentum. 

“HA-ah, ahem, I mean…hello! Nice to see you again, sir!” the barista calls out, poorly concealing his mirth at Atsumu’s fumbling behind a gloved hand. Kiyoomi nods curtly, his order on the tip of his lips, but before he can utter anything Atsumu is beside him again, leaning against the well lit pastry case and peering over his options critically.

“Hmm, ya’ got any of those little madeline cakes? They’re vanilla, kinda look like a shell? Saw em’ on yer’ website.” 

The barista gives Atsumu a broad grin and twists to talk with someone who’s below the arched dome of the food case, quietly asking a few questions before looking back at the blonde man. “Yeah, we do! We’re actually just putting them out, my manager is checking for the–”

Atsumu steps impossibly closer to the gleaming glass and pops his head over the dome, peering down at whoever is restocking the sweets. “Oh! Hey there!” he chirps, lowering his chin, his face pulling into an exaggerated, cocky smirk. “Ya’ know what I mean, right? It’s kinda like a cake, but it’s small, like a cookie. It’s French. No, it’s not that. Maybe on the next tray? What? I can’t hear ya’. It’s smaller. I can step around, see if–”

A familiar voice pipes up before Atsumu can move closer and Kiyoomi turns, ears instantly pricking up at the sound of your reply. “I said, I know what a madeline is, sir. I’m rearranging and organizing my cart at the moment and, if you’d like, you can order your drinks first. I’ll have the madeline waiting for you on the other side of the bar.”

“Lemme just see one,” Atsumu grins, resting his hands against the glass. Kiyoomi’s lips curl at the sight, watching Atsumu’s hands leave lingering prints behind. Great, now they’ll need to clean and re-polish the display. Besides, you’d said you had them. Why keep pushing the issue? Ugh. If he wasn’t regretting his decision to show his fellow teammate the shop before, he certainly is now. 

“Just wanna make sure we’re on the same page, is all. Ya’ might give me something else by mistake and that’s a waste of time for both of us!” Atsumu’s smile broadens, a shadowed look falling over his angular features. 

You hop up from your crouched position, a wrapped package with bright blue lettering that clearly says [ French Vanilla Madeline ] on the side, clutched between your fingers. “Oh no, I get it,” you begin, mimicking Atsumu’s cheshire grin with startling accuracy. “You just want to double check! I mean, the words on the packaging do say: Madeline. So unless you mean something else, something that’s not called ‘A French vanilla madeline, made with real vanilla extract and buttery goodness,’ I think we’ve got you covered.”

Your voice is saccharine sweet, lilting over the words, a well-practiced smile lifting your lips. You’re still clearly mirroring the one Atsumu is giving you. It’s the snappiest your tone has ever been, and the fact that it’s being used against his annoying teammate is priceless. Suddenly, he can’t help the laugh that’s already snickering its way past his mask. 

“Oi!” Atsumu cries, pushing himself off the case at last, his teeth gritted at Kiyoomi’s obvious amusement. “I just wanted to check! And you, manager lady, don’t be so mean!”

“Pfft, manager lady? It’s (Y/N). And me? Mean? I was not mean, I told you that we had them! I just needed to FIFO some of the other pastries first,” you defend, a surprised exhale falling from your lips. 

“FIFO? What is that? Don’t use that food jargon on me! I get that enough from my brother. He does that crap all the time, like it’s some sorta secret lingo. ‘Don’t do that ‘Tsumu, gotta make sure it’s in date’. ‘Don’t come on the line!’ ‘Gotta wear a hat or a hair net if yer’ gonna be back here!’ ‘Don’t mislabel the rice!’ On and on. What’s with you food people? So uptight. Look, I just wanted to try one. Yer’ reviews said they were good! Here, tell you what, give me two. Don’t laugh! Omi, help! She’s picking on me!”

“Stop it, you’re making a scene. Any other inane questions? Or anything else you’d like to order, because I’m certainly not buying any of this for you,” Kiyoomi replies, sneaking a glance at your bemused expression. You catch his eye and give him a quick wink and he finds that his smile stays with him long after he, and a chastened and satiated Atsumu have left the warmth of the coffee shop.

“Mmm, these are pretty good,” Atsumu mumbles between bites of his madeline. “Ya’ want some?”

He stops by after his evening practice, when the sun has long since fallen past the horizon of the city, but as soon as he rounds the corner he regrets his decision.

The cafe is brimming with people. They’re everywhere; outside, they are clustered on the pavement, sitting on the collection of iron wrought chairs, and gathered in groups. Inside, most are sprawled close to the hand off plane, or draped over the couches and tables. They appear to be animated, with computer screens and voices bright, too bright. His usual spot is taken, and he’s already made up his mind to keep walking on but somehow, somehow, he catches your eye. 

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink [ a doppio con panna with bitter lungo shots, poured affogato ] a pleased smile on your soft lips. 

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you. 

“Hey! Glad I could catch you. Wanted to tell you good luck on your upcoming game! I think I saw on the news that it’s tomorrow? Right?”

“Yes, we’re playing Azuma Pharmacy. They have a good starting lineup. It’s entirely possible that we’ll lose.”

“Jeez,” you exhale, cocking your head at his serious expression. “Kind of a pessimist, aren’t you?”

“I’m a realist. I’m perfectly prepared to beat them, but things always play out differently on the court, no matter what your personal expectations are.” 

You give him another smile. This one comes quickly, and it’s bigger than any of the others, the pull of it lighting up your face. It’s different, and he can tell that the way you’re looking at him has shifted; that you’ve liked this answer. He’s not sure why, it’s the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Good point. Well, win or lose, you’ve got my luck! I better get back inside. Your drink is on me by the way, for the other day…when I touched your hand…well, I’m sure you remember. Anyway, see you, Sakusa!”

He watches you slip past the packed lines of students, already rolling up your sleeves so you can wash your hands. Once you’re behind the espresso machine you’re hidden by the burnished copper and he walks on, shouldering his MSBY bag higher, lifting his coffee to his lips. It’s got a rich flavor, well balanced and expertly poured. Once again, he’s reminded that you’re good at what you do and, despite the balmy heat of early spring, that makes his fingers tingle and his skin break out in gooseflesh.

Later, when he’s falling asleep, he keeps seeing your eyes. Watching as your colored irises come alive in the moonlight, hopeful, shining, and wholly focused on him.

At practice, Atsumu insists on completing his post workout stretching next to him. He’s used to Kiyoomi’s sullen silences and barbed retorts, content to chatter however he pleases, flitting from topic to topic as he eases into his cool down routine. 

“I need to go back to that coffee shop. Ya’ been back lately?”

“No,” Kiyoomi lies, brushing a stubborn wave of curls out of his sweaty face. 

“Too bad. Maybe after Friday’s practice? That girl really knew her stuff. Made some great coffee, too. What was her name? Ah, that’s right, (Y/N). She’s cute, what’s her story?” 

Something twinges against Kiyoomi’s rib cage at the word ‘cute.’ Hmm, that’s not normal. He flips to his left side, facing away from Atsumu’s greedy eyes and leering smiles. 

“How long has she worked there?”

“Not sure,” Kiyoomi replies, flattening his palm against the cool flooring of the gym. “At least a year, maybe more.”

“That other barista said she was a manager. She’s not one of the owners, is she?”

“Dunno.”

“Is she a student? Kinda strange to see an American working in Japan, and she’s definitely an American. She’s good with the Japanese, but her accent is off.”

“Your accent is off, so I’m not sure what your point is. I can understand her, and I can’t say the same for you.”

“Jackass!” Atsumu snaps, flopping up from his splayed stretch to butterfly his muscled legs. “It’s called a regional accent, and it’s perfectly normal. Ya’ got one too, city boy!”

“See? No one says things like that. You sound like a cartoon character. Sometimes I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Yer’ full of it!”

“Hmph,” Kiyoomi hums, curling himself onto his haunches and flattening the tops of his hands against the floor. The satisfying crunch of his wrists as his fingers settle makes Atsumu visibly shudder and Kiyoomi flashes him a quick smirk of his own, hoping it will spook his stretching companion enough that he’ll leave him be. He prefers to do his cool down in silence. 

“She do anything else? Other than diligently slaving over yer’ coffee, that is?”

Tch. It seems that luck isn’t with him today. “She said she’s a graduate student.”

“Oooh, what’s she studyin’?”

“Not sure.”

“Yer’ about as fun to talk to as a stack of bricks, ya’ know? Bet if I’d asked you what her name was the other day all you’d say was, ‘I use’ta just call her barista: first name: cute, last name: girl.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t reply. Something about these questions is bothering him. He doesn’t like that he can’t answer them properly– it’s frustrating, really. All he can honestly tell Atsumu is that you’re neat and efficient, that you have a smile that he can’t quite shake out of his head, a perfume that he wishes he could place, and that, to date, you’ve given him one free coffee. The fact that he knows that you’re a graduate student is sheer luck, information that you’d happened to share with him, not that he’d asked you about. He uncoils his hands and flips them over, letting his eyes rest against his reddened palms. Oh, and you’d touched his wrist once and the sheer metaphysical weight of that contact had nearly sent him stumbling backwards. 

It’s stupid; he’s stupid. 

It’s not hard to talk with people. It’s just…he knows he’s not good at it. Besides, when would he practice? He’s surrounded by extroverts; extreme extroverts. Extroverts who defy all sense and who usually can’t be silenced unless they’re tucked into a deep sleep, and even then it’s doubtful. Both Hinata and Bokuto have demonstrated that they can, and will, talk in their sleep. Still, it’s frustrating to find himself boxed into a corner, completely at a loss and unaware of the most cursory, mundane, simple, facts about you. For almost two years, he’s seen you at least twice a week, shouldn’t he know more? Why doesn’t he know more?

“Why not give her a ticket to a game?”

Atsumu’s question makes him lift his head, abandoning his musings as he lets the weight of that suggestion sink in. The setter is crinkling his eyes at him now, that all knowing smirk back on his lips, umber eyes hooded, mischievous. “The front office can do that, ya’ know? We’ve got extras. They keep em’ for that purpose. Just say she’s a special guest, or a potential sponsor. They ain’t gonna question you.” 

Kiyoomi looks away, crossing his legs and leaning to his right side, feigning disinterest as Atsumu tells him who he can speak with, where he can see the upcoming calendar, and what seats might be open. It’s a good idea, a great idea, and he can’t help but loathe that Atsumu thought of it first.

The ticket is good for a first row balcony seat.

It’s situated in the best spot. He’d picked it out himself, carefully looking over the colored diagram of the stadium and belaboring the proximity of the sight-lines, wanting to let you have a bird’s eye view of the court. Where would he like to sit, if he could watch a game? What works? What doesn’t? Too high and you can’t catch the movement of the ball. Too low and you can’t see the players. Too far to the right or left and you can’t see the breadth of the court. It’s tricky, and he’s cautious with his selection. He can’t help it. 

Kiyoomi only considers you not even liking the sport when he’s placing his order, watching as you carefully tuck his empty cup down on the polished steel of the bar. Shit.

The cafe is quiet. The students are gone, and when the register barista goes to the backroom it’s only him and you in the well lit space. The click of the burr grinder almost makes him jump, and he compromises with his nerves by shifting toward his usual table, resting his bag in the chair and taking in a deep breath. 

The gentle press of the tamp is audible over the low beats of the music and he hears you knock the side of the portafilter, no doubt leveling off the crushed arabica before you hook the device under the grouphead. Seconds later he sees you flip the switch for his shots, already grooming his heated, foaming, oat milk in the short pitcher, popping the liquid free of any errant bubbles. You’re gentle with this part, and he’s always loved to watch you pour his cortado, liking the raise of your arm and the flick of your wrist as you let the creamy milk flow into the paper cup, swirling a rosetta design through the ochre of the waiting espresso. 

Usually, this well-oiled process of yours calms him, but today he feels fidgety and his head is buzzing. The sooner you finish the drink, the sooner he’ll have to talk to you. Shit, shit. When you move the dark lids forward, his hand feels like it’s heating around the slick paper of the ticket, making it clammy and tacky. He bites his lip and removes his hand from his jacket, wiping his palm against his dark jeans. 

You’re already looking up at him, nodding toward the fragrant cup that’s waiting at the edge of the handoff plane. Automatically, he lurches forward, completely in-sync with his familiar routine. The question [ would you like a ticket to one of my games? ] is resting on the tip of his tongue and his fingers are hovering beside his cup. He can see that they’re shaking and that sight doesn’t ease him. Then you ask him something and he feels everything skitter to a halt. Why is this happening? It’s just a ticket, it’s just a game. 

Wait. You asked him something? 

He does his best to ignore the humming of anxious tension that’s filtering down his fingertips and lifts his bowed head. “What?” he mumbles, lips unsticking at last.

“Just asked how your game went the other day. I tried to record it but my stupid cable box isn’t working. I need to try and see you guys, I know I’ve probably said that before, but it’s pretty pathetic of me to not catch one game when the stadium is only two miles away. Plus, I know y’all are a great team! Heard you made the playoffs last year, that’s so awesome!”

It’s a perfect segway. 

But he feels like he’s rooted to the spot, like his tongue is trapped against the roof of his mouth, and his hands are too heavy to move, content to shake beside his cooling drink as he whittles his time away, too filled with the what if’s to do anything about the here and now. He’s going down a mental checklist, mulling over each possibility, cautiously tampering with that heady rush of excitement that’s threatening to bubble out of his masked lips. Shit. 

He’s gotta check his vitamin intake, maybe he’s low on omega 3s? The team has a general practitioner on standby. He really should call him after this, maybe run by his office before the next practice. 

Something’s off with him.

Wait, that worked. 

That shift in his whirring thoughts broke him out of that suspended state and then, before he completely fucks this up, the ticket is down against the counter and he’s muttering something about unlimited uses, that if you can’t make it now, then you can always switch the date, or add someone on, if you have a [ boy ] friend you want to take; the next game works best with the seat that’s listed, he’s checked. He knows it’s open. Again, zero pressure and no worries if you can’t make it. See you around.

You might have responded, you might have smiled, fuck, you might have laughed at him. He’s not sure.

All he knows is that as soon as he is out of the shop he’s calling the team’s gp and confirming an appointment for tomorrow morning. It’s not natural for his heart to stutter and thump like that. It could be an arrhythmia. 

It could be any number of things. 

He hasn’t felt this nervous about a game in years. Sure, it’s a good team, and they have four players that are of his generation, most of them powerful outside hitters that will probably give the Jackals a good run for their money, but they’re not insurmountable. They can beat VC Kanagawa; they’ll have to if they want to advance further in the lineup for the playoffs. 

It’s just…

He keeps looking for that seat. Your seat. He’d gotten to the stadium early; opting to forgo the first team meeting, saying he needed to practice his wall drills, work on his spin, but that’s not the real reason. The real reason is something that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. At least, not before a game. He steadies himself, reiterating that it’s not practical or helpful for him to worry about things like that. 

Nevertheless, he’s pinned the seat in his mind. He studied it as the lights shuddered on, the maintenance staff flashing him bewildered looks as he stepped into the empty brightness of the court. He’d found it again during the pre-game warmup, onyx eyes committing the location to memory, searching for the little details that he could watch for if he wanted to find it again, later, when the arena was packed with thousands of eyes and waving signs.

As they open the main doors and the seats fill up, he’s still looking at the seat.

“Whatcha looking at?” Hinata asks, his burst of orange hair already slicked with sweat, vivid eyes sharp. 

“Nothing.”

The results of Kiyoomi’s physical had shown no outliers, no cause for worry or concern. Everything was fine. He should just get a little extra potassium in, maybe eat a few more bananas in the morning, or after his practices. He’d been a little miffed when he opened the manilla folder, eyes hunting for abnormalities, for a reason, an explanation. If nothing is wrong, then why does he feel like he’s tingling with adrenaline all the time? It makes him light-headed, sluggish, and that’s detrimental to his playability, to his value to his team. 

He looks away from Hinata and paces past Atsumu’s arched eyebrow, ignoring the implications of that wicked grin that’s resting on the setter’s quirked lips. It’s fine; he’s fine. His eyes look up to the balcony again. He really shouldn’t be doing that, he reminds himself. It’s a distraction, and he doesn’t–

Oh. There you are.

He can’t make out details, not from this distance, and he suddenly feels self-conscious about his face. There’s no mask. He doesn’t wear it when he plays, and this will be the first time you’ve seen him without it. Suddenly, he wishes he hadn’t cared so much about the visibility of the court. Why did he plant you so far away? If he can’t see you, then there’s no way you’ll be able to tell which one he is either…oh…wait…his name is on the back of his jersey and they’ll announce his number. Nevermind. 

The referee calls for the teams to line up and he diligently follows his teammates, standing in his usual spot, ignoring the dull thump of his heart as it beats a ragged tattoo under his ribs. 

They won. 

They won, and he’d racked up a whopping 23 points for himself, a personal milestone. It’ll be something that will go down on his athletic record, that the local and national news reports will chatter about, that he can feel proud of. He’s glad; you always show him your best, so it’s only fair he does the same for you too.

He’d peeked up at your seat during each time out, each break, every time the momentum shifted, and before he hit every serve. You looked like you had your feet propped up, resting against the metal barrier of the balcony, and he could see that your arms were wrapped around your knees. You were paying attention, and that knowledge made his lungs swell and his pulse quicken. 

Now, after he’s finished toweling some of the clinging sweat from his brow and the matted droop of his obsidian curls, he twists back, facing your seat, but you’re not there. An empty curve of plastic greets him and his heavy brows furrow, his fingers dropping the towel onto the bench as they curl up into his palms. 

Did you leave? It would make sense, he supposes. The game is over. He just thought you might come down. Might want to talk. Not that he’d have much to say. He never does. Stupid; what would he talk with you about? See the game? Yeah, duh. 

The distant voice of MSBY’s public relations manager is calling for him. He’ll worry about it [ you ] later, he thinks, he’s still got a job to do.

During his interview he can hear Atsumu’s voice. It’s annoying. While the setter doesn’t attempt to tone himself down, he rarely talks that loudly. Kiyoomi glances over at his straight back, watching as his hand cups against the back of his golden head, an infectious laugh bursting from his turned lips. Strange. It’s not like him to chat with someone for that long, not when he’s got his own post-game interviews to conduct. He usually– 

Ah, it’s you. 

Suddenly, questions like: [ how does it feel to be considered for the 2025 Japanese Olympic team? ] don’t matter. His head is half cocked now, dark eyes following the two of you, his comments to the national reporter falling into clipped monosyllables. This is unprofessional; he should focus on the matter at hand, it’s not like him to be distracted. 

He’s been thinking about that a lot lately. That so many things are suddenly not like him. 

When you push playfully at Atsumu’s shoulder, he lapses into a stormy silence, nails biting into his clenched palms, pressing half moons into his calloused skin. After answering one more question: [ something about his future plans - how’s he supposed to know? That depends on trades, on opportunities. And right now he’s not in the correct frame of mind to answer honestly, not when he can see that you’re right there ] he bows to the smiling face of the reporter, formally concluding his participation in the interview. He knows it’s abrupt; he knows he’ll likely get an earful from the MSBY PR director, from his coach, and from himself, when the full weight of his uncharacteristic rashness hits him, but right now he doesn’t care.

His feet feel like lead and the steps that he’s taking shudder against the gym’s polished flooring. He’s usually smoother than this, more collected, but can’t will himself to stop lurching forward. He tucks his hands into the darkness of his team jacket, coiling his numb fingers into tight balls, and hunches his shoulders. He likely looks like thunder and this suspicion is confirmed when a ball boy scuttles out of his path, eyes wide, but Kiyoomi doesn’t care. 

Atsumu hasn’t noticed his approach, but you do, and that shy wave and familiar smile makes his breath catch in his throat. Damn it. What’s going on with him? 

Atsumu notices your wandering attention and turns, following your gaze. Once he spots Kiyoomi, he gives him a cheeky smirk, dipping his chin, lazily fixing his amber eyes on Kiyoomi’s arched figure. “Look who caaame!” he calls, lacing his tone with poorly concealed glee. “She said you gave her a ticket. What a great, absolutely original, idea! And you had your record breaking scoring streak today too! Hey! Maybe she’s good luck! Watch out (Y/N), pretty soon we’ll be hooking you up with a personal mascot job if ya’ can light such a fire under our stoic hitter’s ass. Must be something special in that coffee yer’ serving him.”

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at Atsumu’s blatant needling and the setter chuckles, flipping his focus back to you, sensing the rising agitation that is rolling off of Kiyoomi in waves now. “Well, sure was good to see ya’ again! Talk to me next time, huh? I’ll get you a boxed seat. It’s much better than those nosebleeds in the balconies.”

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips, and make a show of rolling your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, you know? And what boxed seats? Feels like I’d see them if you had them,” you tease, earning yourself a last laugh and Atsumu’s back, a friendly hand waving a last goodbye as he finally strides toward the waiting cameras. Kiyoomi watches him go, his shoulders tense, a feeling of unease settling in his gut. Is Atsumu doing this on purpose? 

He almost snaps a retort at his retreating figure, but the sound of your voice immediately snatches his attention toward you. His dark gaze meets yours and the look in your eyes makes his palms feel itchy and his feet scuff mindlessly against the floor.

“This is gonna sound so dumb, but it’s been on my mind since I got here…”

Kiyoomi’s fingers twist in his pockets, coiling over each digit, and his pulse feels like it’s speeding up again. “What?”

“It’s just…well, you look so much younger without the mask,” you let out a small laugh and duck your head, teeth pulling at your lower lip as you face away from his widening eyes. 

“Is that bad?”

“No! You look good! Uh, I mean, not that you didn’t…I just wasn’t sure…not that I’d thought about it…a lot…uh, I…yeah, I’m…No, it’s not bad!” You press your hands against your mouth, steepling your fingers under your nose and fix him with a sheepish grin. “Anyway, I know you’ve got things to do, but Miya was right about one thing, you had a great game. I had a lot of fun and it was so nice of you to get me that ticket, and well…”

You pause, lowering your hands to yank your purse forward, fingers digging into the leather before you right yourself once more, returning with a small, zipped bag, and a plastic card that’s balancing atop the metal teeth. “It’s a…well…I sorta tried to think of some things that you might like. To say thanks! It’s nothing fancy. A nail filing kit, because I read that volleyball guys like to keep their hands in tiptop shape, one of those portable ball pumps and some masks. 

The masks are from a great company, back home, er, in the states. Well, at least I like them, they’re super durable. And the card, uh, ha, um, the card is to the cafe. I know it’s not super original, but I didn’t know if you liked any other places. And I didn’t wanna assume or — Haha, oh God, I am talking your ear off. Just…here! Take this from me so I can get my foot outta my mouth, okay?”

You press the bag forward and before he can tell you he doesn’t accept gifts from fans, his hands are already out of the safety of his pockets, firmly wrapping around your offering. “Thank you,” he bows. He wants to say more, but he’s not sure how.

He didn’t mean to come by the cafe. 

He thought he’d go for a quick run before practice, maybe loop the block, or jog toward the university. None of these things are close to the cafe, but apparently his feet had other ideas. The shop bell rings when he steps inside, wiping some hand sanitizer against his heated palms, onyx eyes alert, already searching for you. 

A male barista [ is it Kane? ] greets him and before he can stop himself, he’s asking if you’re there. “Oh, (Y/N)? Nah, she’s off today. But I can make your cortado, you get almond milk, right?”

“Oat,” Kiyoomi replies, voice muffled by his mask. Damn. Why did he come here? He didn’t mean to and now it’s looking like it was a wasted trip. A useless instinct. He’d wanted to thank you properly for your gift, which had been on his mind a lot the past few days. Perhaps that’s why he felt so compelled to jog the extra mile, why he can’t seem to keep away, why he keeps looking for you as he waits, even though he knows you’re not here. 

Maybe he can text you his thanks. That would make all of this easier. Oh, wait, does he even have your number? He pulls his phone out of his pocket and examines his contact list, searching for you. No, nothing under your name. Maybe he put it under something else? [ barista? cafe? ] Again, there’s nothing. Damn. Why didn’t he ask at the game? Or when he gave you the ticket?

When he picks up his drink and paces back into the sunshine, he’s still kicking himself that he hasn’t asked for your number yet. It would have made things so much simpler, he reasons, sipping at his coffee; now he’ll have to come back. 

But days pass, and he hasn’t returned. 

There’s just too much going on. Too many team meetings and late practices. Too much preparation. The pace of his schedule has never bothered him before, but now he keeps hoping for some kind of reprieve. 

The other morning Atsumu strode into a meeting with a cup from your cafe, proudly flaunting the familiar label. It made Kiyoomi’s blood boil [ did he see you? talk with you? Did he get to see that addictively pleasing smile of yours? ] and later that afternoon he experienced his first scolding. 

“What’s going on, Omi? Five missed digs? This isn’t like you. You look like your head is in the clouds. Come on, get it together. Big game in five days.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” It’s all he can say. 

When he’s heading toward the team showers, he catches sight of Atsumu’s knowing leer and he grits his teeth, ignoring the huffed snicker and scoffing head shake that the setter sends his way. 

Finally, two days later, he’s got some free time. There are other errands he needs to run, things he should do, but the only thing he can think about is you. 

He’s walking up from a side street, one he rarely takes, when, at long last, he catches sight of you. You must be on a break. You’re sitting at a bench, facing a small, but well laid flower bed, flipping the pages of your open book languidly as you read under the cool shade of a gnarled tree. 

He’s glad he’s wearing the mask that you gifted him. 

You’d said that they were durable, and their quality had genuinely impressed him. When he got home, after the game, he slipped them out of their individual plastic cases, fingering the thick, well made materials before washing one. He’d left the others in their containers. He’ll use them, eventually, but not right now. He wants to savor them. He wants them to last.  

Kiyoomi is almost to your side when you look up and he bites against his lower lip as soon as you give him that friendly smile of yours, already closing your book and standing, waiting for him to step closer. He comes to a stop in front of you, peering down at you through his dark lashes. 

You always smell so nice, he thinks, unconsciously shifting closer, seeking more. You must have showered before coming into your shift because the crisp scent of peppermint and gentle lavender makes his nostrils flare hungrily under his mask. 

“Hey there!” you begin, tucking your book into your arms. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“Fine. I have practice later. I came by the other day. I…” he lapses into frustrated silence, dark brows falling, letting his hands grip at the material of his jacket. Why is this so hard? You, all the others on his team, Motoya [ hell, even the notoriously impassive Wakatoshi has come out of his shell over the years ] can slip into a conversation. Damn it, how can everyone else make this look so easy? 

“Saw you’re playing the Adlers soon. They’re the team the Jackals have a sorta rivalry with, right?”

He blinks down at you and lets out a shallow exhale. There you go again. You’re giving him a life raft, a conversation he can fall into, something he enjoys talking about. He remembers his stilted conversation with Atsumu, the one where he did not know about any of the basic things, the obvious things, the things that made you, you. It’s nice that you’re looking out for him, that you’re helping him along, but he doesn’t want to talk about volleyball, not right now.

“We do. How did your finals go? You said you had a dissertation?”

“Oh!” you blurt, your eyes widening, but you’re clearly pleased, even a little excited that he’s asked. “You remembered! Finished it up last week. Now I just need to knock out my revisions and I’ll either go back to committee, or they’ll approve it! I’m hoping they approve it. I’m sick of looking at it, haha.” Your fingers tap against your book and you duck your head, a quick smile passing over your smooth lips. “Uh, did you want to come in for a coffee? Not trying to hold you up, if you’ve got practice to go to.”

“I was the one who came over.” He sounds a little harsh, he thinks, nose wrinkling under his mask. He’s never worried about being blunt, but that doesn’t work here. He doesn’t want to be, not with you. “I mean, I wanted…wanted to say thanks, for the masks and the other things. I like them.” He points to his covered face and you let out a chuckle, gleaming eyes crinkling as you look up at him. Damn, you’re pretty. How has he not noticed that before? He wants to see you laugh again, he’s just not sure how to go about it. Does he even know any jokes? Shit.

“Awe, I’m glad you like them! Speaking of, Atsumu came by a few days ago, I guess you must have worn one around him because he was trying to sniff out if I’d given them to you. He’s a funny guy, but I cannot get a good read on him. It’s almost like he’s doing stuff on purpose, but he’s never blatantly obvious about it. The way he was talking, I was kinda worried he was trying to play a prank on you. Does he like to get under your skin or something? He’s–”

Kiyoomi’s not thinking when he leans down. He’s been doing that a lot lately, not thinking. It makes his skin prickle. Or is that the smell of peppermint on your clean neck, the fragrant lavender in your hair? The kiss is soft; more of a press of his lips than a real caress. But it’s nice, and he actually likes being this close to you, but something feels off and, ah, damn it. 

His dark brows knit together, furrowing his forehead, when he realizes what he’s done. He didn’t take off his mask. How stupid. But that shaky gasp of air that you let out when he pulls away, and the following upward lift of your body, your lips chasing his, clearly wanting him to come back, oh that’s so worth it, mask or not.

Your eyes are the first thing he sees when he looks back down, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect. They’re bright, vibrant, and rich with an excitement that makes his toes curl. 

The smell of lavender and peppermint, of you, is almost overwhelming, and yet somehow it’s all together, not enough. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. 

What is there to say? 

That one, half-formed, touch said it all. It expressed every frustration that he’s felt over the last few weeks, every faded memory of your voice, of your playful smiles, of those hesitant conversations you’ve helped him through. It’s all there, sitting quietly between the two of you, shimmering in the sunlight as you take a step closer and his hands finally fall out of his pockets, waiting, hoping for yours. 

“(Y/N)! Break’s over! Coffee’s not gonna brew itself!” 

The distant voice of your coworker shatters the euphoria and you tense, pulling away, your head turning toward the barked command as you call out your reply. Kiyoomi huffs out an impatient breath. He wanted to try that again. Do it right this time. How pathetic is he? Kissing you through a mask? But his annoyance dies when you face him again, slipping your hand tentatively into his. 

His digits fall limply around yours and he can’t help but marvel at the softness of you. One of his thumbs lifts and he traces the skin along your knuckles, unsure if he’s even breathing anymore. “Come on,” you say, looking down at his touch before lacing your fingers through his, showing him how to hold you. “I’ll make your coffee.” 

You’re walking forward and he has the inane urge to snatch you back, wanting to see how the rest of you feels, wanting to know how you’ll fit into his arms, but he distracts himself by following you. There’s a budding warmth that’s spreading from his palm, where your hand rests inside his, to his chest. It feels like a low burning fire is coursing along his veins and his heartbeat thuds out of rhythm, but for once he doesn’t care. 

In fact, he thinks he likes it.

He sits in the cafe for too long, his coffee cold, the cup almost empty. But before he leaves [ already so, so late for practice ] he gets your number. 

He taps the unfamiliar digits carefully into his device and you watch from the counter, your chin propped in your hand, a gentle smile kissing against your palm. Then he stands, pausing beside you and you run your index finger down his arm, lingering your touch beside his wrist, making him shiver in the warm sunlight, a pleased grin hidden behind his mask.

notes: this man has what, 10 pages of interaction? idk why and idk how, but he is stuck in my brain - like, seriously send help, i think i’m in love.