#so. not that much in the scheme of it all. i should eat a vegetable maybe

[treesbian]

i hungry </3 ate what i wanted and everything. well not Everything I wanted... bc i don't have any beautiful tomatoes (really really wanted cheeseburger with tomato on it) (had cheeseburger with No Tomato on it)

[kazumiku]

— STUPID GIRL

NSFW (crossposted on AO3 @Kazumik)

SUMMARY; Wherein Heizou is an all-rounder student. A trusted leader and the teacher's pet. He's reliable in any field—until when it comes to tutoring, that is, before he met you. He's picky and stubborn, so when he gets to know you and your adorable little mind, he couldn't help himself but take matters upon his hand and take you under his wing. With an ulterior motive, of course.

READ WARNINGS; ooc Heizou, reader is a masochist, dumb reader (i am so sorry), sexual content, loss of virginity, minors do not interact !

you have now been warned...

Shikanoin Heizou, a known name at your college. Always topping his classes, best in extracurricular activities, leader of the student board, and the list goes on. He’s practically the campus’ perfect prince, having the looks and brains to prove it. The teacher’s pet, always reliable and helpful. Well, that is until he gets tasked to tutor-lower-than average students whose grades are barely hanging on a string. Heizou dislikes teaching people. If they’re dumb, they’re dumb; that’s what he stands by and his resolve remains unmoving, even after countless of professors’ persistence…

That is before he met you. You stick out of your classes like a sore thumb, not only because you’re lower than what he’d label as unintelligent, you’re one heck of a pretty face as well. So naïve, so foolish, and so damn adorable. He couldn’t help himself but finally accept your professor’s pleading, tired of calling on you whenever you raise your hand during a lecture, only to ask a question that is far off from the current topic.

A girl with a world of her own. That’s what Heizou likes in a person, and how he wants to join that world to top it all off. He surely won’t regret choosing you as his student.

Your dorm was near campus, it was only reasonable that he tutors you there, given the comfortable atmosphere and that it’s not as far than the library that was a building away from the dormitory.

“Come in, come in! Would you like some snacks? Ah… I think I have a few bags of chips here, if you want some,” The way you greeted him as he arrived outside your door made his heart clench. Heizou can’t believe he can be this infatuated over someone so inferior next to him.

“Chips? I feel like you should clean out your pantry and revise your diet if that’s the case.” Heizou snorted as he welcomed himself in, taking off his shoes by the entrance. Your dorm was nothing extravagant—it had a muted atmosphere, shades of pastel pink being your preferred colour scheme, with a fuzzy floor mat and what seemed like velvet sheets on your bed. It didn’t seem like you had a roommate. But then again, who would want to room with you? (Heizou, probably, since he’s such a simp)

You had sheepishly giggled at his remark, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your unhealthy choice of meals, that being junk food, or so he seems. “I’m working on it,” you answered, earning a hum from the redhead as he comes to sit on the edge of your bed. It’s much softer than his, which took him by surprise, but he didn’t bother dwell on it.

He placed his bag on the floor, taking his laptop out to set it on the mattress. Preferably, he would’ve taught you on your desk instead, but he wanted more than to teach you in this session… Plus, he’s sure you won’t question his decision.

Defeated, you just took looked for something relatively healthy; a bag of dried vegetables your parents gave you a day or two ago. Usually, you wouldn’t eat something so bland like this and just leave it to grow molds inside your mini fridge, despite its health benefits, but you had no other choice but to opt for it, just for today.

You then walked to him, nervous as you see him get comfortable on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his laptop perched on his lap, with a textbook or two beside him. Sensing your eyes, he looked up from his screen for his gaze to meet yours, patting the opposite side without the books to invite you to sit there. And so you did, unquestioning, just as he predicted.

“So, before we start off with the topic, I’d like to set ground rules that you are required to follow if you want me to tutor you,” Heizou started, one corner of his lip twitching up to a smirk that only screams mischief. It doesn’t hurt if a good student like him play around just once, right? “One, if I talk, you must listen and keep your eyes on me.”

The first one didn’t seem too much, so you nodded with a smile on your own playing on your stupidly pretty face. “Two, if you want to ask a question, pat my lap, and call me ‘Sir’ while you do so. Got that?” the second part seemed unreasonable, but you nodded nonetheless.

“Oh, and third, I’ll occasionally question you as I teach, so if you get an answer wrong and I punish you, I don’t want to hear any complaints,” He ended it off, and you simply answered with a small ‘alright,’ feeling uncertain at getting a punishment for every answer you will 100% possibly get wrong. Then again, you don’t really have a say in it, do you?

You didn’t expect, in any way, that accepting his conditions would lead you to such a compromising situation.

You swore you just blinked then now you’re nearly nude, only your bra left to serve you a quarter of decency, barely. Other than that, you were bent over on your stomach, ass in the air with your face buried against the pillows, one hand holding a textbook that you could barely read through your watery vision as the other clutches on the sheets under you.

Everything felt hot, especially when Heizou slid his fat cock inside your once virgin hole till it fully resided between your sweetly snug folds, insides as velvet as your bed sheets. “Hm, you got it wrong again… this is the third time in a row. How disappointing,” He sneered, slender fingers descending your bent back to grab the strands of your hair to tug your head up, revealing your face in a shade of scarlet with pearly tears staining your supple cheeks.

“What a crybaby,” he mocked, leaning to kiss the salty liquid on your chin while thrusting his hips forward, bubbling a breathless moan out your throat as his other hand gripped your hip to steady your shaky knees that threaten to give out. “It’s just a simple question… but then again you’re just a little stupid girl, aren’t you? How embarrassing. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

His humiliating words, as degrading as it is, only spurred your pretty little mind on, walls clenching around his length as you whimpered pathetically. “’M sorry… ‘m trying, b-but I can’t… I forgo—“ A hiss ended your sentence as Heizou pumped himself inside you once more, more forceful than the last one that more tears accumulated in your already filled waterline.

“Shut it, baby. Remember, I don’t want to hear any excuses. Just take it, you deserve it for being a bad girl and not listening to me,” At this point, your head was too high up in the clouds to retaliate, chest heaving as you panted heavily like a bitch in heat, getting fucked to the next key by your own tutor.

His hands deliberately detangled from your sweaty strands, going down to wrap itself around the expanse of your throat, squeezing it plenty to elicit a choked moan from you, but not enough to cut off your airway. He then pressed you down once more, his hand on your hip moving to press on the curve of your back instead, making you arch further that he was hitting all the right spots inside you with practiced ease.

The heavenly symphony of your slick squelching whenever his cock plunges inside and skin meeting skin bounced off the wall of your dorm room, possibly even heard from the outside, alongside the high-pitched melody of your calling of his name, face contorted with your eyes rolled and your tongue lolling out of your drooling mouth, and all that. Heizou couldn’t help but let his grin grow into a triumphant smile, seeing how much he’s already broke you, reducing you into a compliant fuck toy.

“That’s it- ah, squeeze around me, baby,” he groaned, pounding you nelson down the mattress, the tip of his cock starting to graze against your cervix, seeking entrance into your womb as he drives deeper. And god, did it sting so bad, leaving you to wail and thrash in a futile attempt to stop the growing pain. He didn’t let you push him away though, one hand moving to grasp your wrist and pinning them on your back as the other went back to your hips to keep you up and fuck into you consistently.

A knot started to tie itself inside your stomach, making your guts churn and your muscles tingle, pussy contracting around his dick as he pumps deeper to bully your cervix, pounding you to his heart’s content.

Though his thrusts eventually became more sloppier and uncoordinated as he nears his edge, though before he could offer his release, you started to shudder from under him, voice hitting a higher octave as you unintentionally squirted, your love juices getting everywhere on his lower half and soaking your sheets. You could barely keep your eyes open at this point, vision white and blurry, and your dazed mind threatening to slip into unconsciousness.

But before you could pass out, Heizou followed right after, spurting out thick ropes of white till you’re filled to the brim, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock as he continued to thrust, albeit slowly, as you both descended down from your respective highs.

“Mmh, I might have to schedule another session with you tomorrow same time as today,” Heizou wheezed softly, not bothering to pull out as he just collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing you but you didn’t complain. It’s not like you could, not when your thoughts were a mush and you struggled to catch your breath, your veins restless, occasionally twitching and shuddering all over from the aftershocks.

“Hopefully you’ll make more mistakes than today,” he added with a breathless laugh, weak arms circling around your waist as he shifted to lay beside you, not letting you go as he pulled you towards his own sweaty body, a hand moving down your tummy to feel the slight bulge, chuckling as you whimpered when he pressed down on it, making you once more aware than you already are by how deep he is.

You’re barely conscious but you managed to offer him a stupidly fucked out smile in acknowledgement. You were sure as heck going to make more mistakes if it meant getting to be fucked so good by none other than Shikanoin Heizou himself.

notes; this isnt beta read help i wrote this in one sitting im so sorry its so bad and its already 3am ?? help

[the-badger-mole]

All You Need Is...

Zuko recognized the signs. Katara was far more patient than he was, especially with the people she loved, but he saw her pausing for what seemed to be silent counts more and more. He noted how forced her smile had become lately. He saw the tension in her shoulders and the slight tremble in her clenched fists.

It was surprisingly easy to get rid of the others. He let slip a hint here and there about a festival that took place on Ember Island at that time of year, and the rest took care of itself. Katara was hesitant about the scheme. Aang with his arrows was too recognizable, to say nothing of Sokka and his dark skin. But eventually, the point was settled against her.

The festival was a three day long affair. On the first night, Katara declined to attend. Her sharp refusal looked like anger and annoyance to her friends, and they decided not to push. They left quickly, before Katara could try to talk them out of it. Suki and Sokka had linked arms and were whispering their plans for their first real date. Toph and Aang walked out ahead of them pushing and shoving and joking with each other. Maybe on another night, Katara would feel a bit envious of their ability to be so carefree, but tonight, all she felt was relief watching them leave. She turned to head back inside to enjoy the quiet. There wasn't much food left (she made a mental note to go shopping the next day), but she thought there was enough to make a solid meal for herself. Then maybe, she could practice her bending for a while, or see if the pipes in her ridiculously opulent bathroom actually work and spend the evening soaking her tired muscles.

There was clanking coming from the kitchen, and Katara frowned. When she opened the door, she was struck first by the sight of Zuko at the stove, and second by the sound of something sizzling in a pan. Zuko noticed her entrance before she could make her hasty retreat, and she froze.wen

"I...I didn't realize you were still here," she said. She and Zuko were...well, friends, she supposed. But the association was still new. A shaky thing, like a newborn mooselion, still working out how its limbs work. To see him there unexpectedly was jarring.

"I didn't feel like going to the festival," he confessed. "I-I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed, and I thought I'd take the opportunity for a quiet night."

"I'll let you finish cooking," Katara said, a bit disappointed, but not unkind. Zuko smiled shyly.

"I've made enough for two," he said. "If you want some. If not, I'll be done in here in a few more minutes." Whatever Zuko was making smelled great, Katara realized, sniffing the air experimentally. Certainly better than she thought she was going to be able to pull together.

"If you don't mind sharing," she said softly. Zuko smiled at her and pulled two plates to serve on. In a few minutes, he presented Katara with komodo chicken in a mango sauce over rice with vegetables on the side. Her jaw dropped. Since when did Zuko know how to cook? Since when was any of these ingredients in their kitchen.

"I...um...snuck out to town earlier," he said, answering Katara's second question. "I saw we were low on food, and I wanted this tonight. I-I got enough food for a few days." "I didn't know you could cook," Katara said, accepting her plate. "I didn't know you'd gone out."

"You were busy when I went," Zuko told her. "And I can't cook. Not really. I only know how to make this and a couple other things. Uncle insisted I learn." Katara thought that was wise of Zuko's uncle. Sokka refused to even learn how to make rice, and Aang thought all food should begin and end with custard tarts. Toph...well, the idea of teaching Toph anything was exhausting on it's own.

"You don't have to eat with me if you don't want," Zuko said. Katara's brow drew down in confusion for a moment before it clicked.

"You were hoping to have the place to yourself," she guessed. Zuko shook his head emphatically.

"Not at all," he said. "I knew you'd be here, but it seemed like you wanted a night alone. I don't want to intrude."

"No it's fine," Katara slid onto a stool the kitchen island and motioned for Zuko to take the other side. They sat in silence for a few moments, exchanging slightly awkward smiles. Finally, Zuko broke the tension and took a bite of his food. Katara dug into her plate, and froze.

"This is..." her eyes widened and she stared at Zuko in astonishment. "This is great!"

"It's a simple dish," he shrugged in embarrassment. "It didn't take me that long to make."

"Sometimes the best dishes are simple," Katara said, taking another bite of her meal. "You've been holding out on us! If I knew you had this up your sleeve, I'd have asked you to help with cooking ages ago!" Zuko shifted in his seat and looked away bashfully. Katara was struck then by just how young he was.

"I can, you know," he said. His voice was quiet, as if he was afraid he'd be heard. "Help you with cooking, I mean. I'm not as good at it as you, but most of my food is at least edible."

"You're hired!" Katara shot Zuko a grin.

The rest of the meal was pleasant. They chatted about safe topics. Aang's progress; the weather; Sokka's latest harebrained scheme; chores; how well everyone had settled into the seaside palace. When they'd finished eating, Katara got up to do the dishes, but Zuko stopped her.

"I'll take care of it," he said.

"But you made dinner," Katara protested. "It's the least I can do after crashing your quiet evening alone."

"I don't mind. Honest. I like doing the dishes."

"You like doing dishes?" Katara raised her brow skeptically.

"I do! It's-" Zuko shrugged awkwardly. "It's meditative, I guess."

"Meditative you guess." Katara snorted and rolled her eyes. "What's going on, Zuko?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you being so...nice?" she asked. "You knew I wasn't going to the fair with the others. You were there when I told Suki yesterday, I know you heard me. And you made dinner. Just enough for two people? And now you want to do the dishes? What's going on? Am I dying?"

"What?" Zuko sputtered. "I-I didn't-"

"What is going on?" Katara demanded. Zuko threw his hands up helplessly.

"I thought you could use a break," he said.

"...what?" Katara was stunned. Zuko rubbed the back of his reddened neck awkwardly and shrugged again.

"It's just... you've seemed tense lately," he explained. "I didn't know how to approach you about it, but I thought maybe a break would help. The others...they need a lot from you, and I thought if I got rid of them for a few hours, you could rest. I know when I get tense, I tend to snap- oh! N-not to say that you would snap. I just...I just know what it's like to need space and not really be able to take any."

Katara's face was unreadable. Zuko could see a storm of emotions there, but he couldn't identify any of them. He'd overstepped. He'd crossed some line. He'd just undone all the progress their friendship had made, and now he-

Zuko had no time to react before Katara launched herself at him. Instead of the attack he was fearing would come, he found Katara clutching him around his middle and her face buried in his shoulder. She was trembling, and a moment later, he realized she was crying.

"H-hey," he murmured, patting her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Katara assured him in a wavering, tear thickened voice. "Thank you, Zuko."

[triptychgrip]

Crack-y Viktuuri college lesbians meet-cute idea

"So, how long have you been eating veg?" Viktoriya asked, with a heart-shaped smile.

Yuriko choked on a snap pea, her mind reeling at the question she'd just been asked.

Eating vag??

Like...as in eating vagina?! Was this just a casual phrase that baby gays threw around nowadays?!

Only five minutes into her first meeting of the Lesbian Students Association' and Yuriko was already learning so much! It'd be a whole lot more gratifying if she also wasn't about to choke to death, but what a way to go...

As she spluttered around the errant vegetable, she could see even through her watering eyes that Viktoriya had begun to flap her hands around in panic.

"Are you ok? Let me get you some water!"

Viktoriya practically flung herself out of her seat.

As she sprinted towards the drinks station she sincerely hoped she could come to the rescue of her extremely pretty new acquaintance, who, with any luck, might become a new friend? Ideas began to flood her mind as she grabbed the first can she saw -- a sparkling grapefruit soda -- before wheeling around to return to their table.

They could try out that new vegan Thai spot together, the one that was just off-campus! Or maybe even cook their own recipes together...she did have a fairly nice kitchen as far as campus apartments went, and it'd be fun to have a new friend to bounce around ideas with when it came to meat substitutes.

Yuriko gratefully accepted the outstretched can, and there was silence between them for a few moments as the other woman began to gulp the soda down. Viktoriya glanced around, finding it odd that they were still the only ones in the room...

Mila had said this mixer was due to start no later than 6:30 pm, but it had been well over twenty minutes since then. She'd even suggested that Viktoriya get there early, just for the food ("I've heard that Campus Vegetarians always get the best Mediterranean platters for their intro meetings!")

"Uhm...sorry about that, I was just surprised by your question," Yuriko eventually spoke up, blushing deeply.

She began to feel a little self-conscious at the puzzled expression that Viktoriya directed her way.

Oh, God, she was such a n00b...Viktoriya was clearly an Experienced Gay: that much was evident from the state of her Doc Martens. She probably had no interest in "coaching" Yuriko on how to advance beyond "beginner lesbian", whether that was in terms of learning the right lingo or otherwise.

"Oh, sorry, was that too nosy? I've been told that I can come off like that," Viktoriya replied, though her eyes still held a hint of confusion. "I didn't mean to pry, you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

But Yuriko rushed to reassure her; this was a mixer for lesbians, so it was natural that she might get asked how long she'd been out. Or how long she'd been "eating vag", rather.

"I'm brand spanking new to all of this, to be honest," she replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the beaming, heart-shaped smile Viktoriya flashed at her.

God, she was so pretty.

Suddenly, her insecurities around being a baby gay seemed silly; even if Viktoriya had been "eating vag" for much longer, the other woman seemed kind, not at all like a judgmental sort of person. Yuriko beamed back, glad she'd gone along with Yuuko's advice to make this mixer a priority.

"What a lucky coincidence: I'm new to this too!" Viktoriya crowed, looking absolutely delighted.

---

Ok, so this Viktuuri college lesbians meet-cute idea popped into my head earlier, centering around: 1) UC Berkeley college junior (and new vegetarian) Viktoriya Nikiforova meeting college sophomore (and newly out lesbian) Katsuki Yuriko; 2) their best friends Mila/Yuuko meeting through the campus Figure Skating Club and scheming together on getting them to meet. Yuuko ends up telling Yuriko to attend an intro meeting of the Lesbian Students Association, while Mila ends up telling Viktoriya that she should consider making other friends who are vegetarian by attending a campus mixer; and 3) the extremely crack-y misinterpretation of the question "So, how how long have you been eating veg?" due to Yuriko's unfamiliarity with Viktoriya’s accent.

I would love to work on this, but I literally told myself this morning that I can't post anymore WIPs to ao3 until I finish my "Gold's On The Inside" series...which is at 180K words and 15 chapters (of 20 total, but that may very well turn into 21, lol).

But I still wanted to make a post as a reminder of something I may muster up the motivation to write later :D

A few more things floating around in my head w/ this idea:

- Viktoriya is a dance major battling perfectionism and major depressive disorder, while Yuriko is a music composition major trying to stay afloat while navigating generalized anxiety disorder

-They have both been attending meetings of the International Students Association but keep missing one another

-Yuriko has only recently stumbled upon the concept of demisexuality and is overwhelmed by the world of queerness that this opens up for her

-They don't exactly know why, but the more they hang out over the summer and share about their respective best friends, the more Mila and Yuuko are inclined to get them to meet. They don't even have romance on the agenda, they just genuinely think the two of them would get along wonderfully

-The only barrier to a potential meeting? Viktoriya and Yuriko happen to be the most stubborn people on Earth. Viktoriya tells Mila that she won't be able to afford to make any new friends due to the coming year's workload, while Yuriko tells Yuuko that there's no way that anyone outside of her music composition classes would want to hang out with "a nerd" like her. Sigh...these two

[buzzerbeaterbin]

My original relationship with protein started as a too-much-of-a-good-thing-is-bad-for-you type deal (most americans overeat period, including protein) due to mindless eating behaviors and then the instant gratification from buffet-style dining halls in college. I overcorrected for this during my stint with uncompromising veganism, leading me to experience a host of maladaptive symptoms (a story on its own for another time) and recognizing that I should probably do something about that, and then I met a very careless personal trainer who told me that I would not, in fact, ever be able to accomplish my muscle mass goals as a vegan. I promptly ate my first bite of salmon in over a year that afternoon, which was the beginning of the end of whatever sort of metabolic regulation my body had maintained up until then (rip). My post-grad year in Ithaca was a long year of on-and-off veganism until I finally realized my gut microbiome had put its foot down to violently tell me that it doesn't like animal protein. I say all of this to illustrate the extremes that I had put myself through over the past few years. This past post bac year was definitely more stable in this regard, sure, but much worse in other ways, so who's to say that it was a W in the grand scheme of things?

I resisted protein powder for the longest time, more than anything else. Because I've always been in constant flux with nourishing my body enough or too much, I never found a regular way to incorporate it into my diet. This and, more significantly, the mental gymnastics I had to perform; the way people glorified this extremely processed product in the name of fitness always rang a bit paradoxical to me. The vegan diet dogma taught me many things, good and bad, but one of the good was that humans are mostly meant to consume whole foods - all of the fiber, starch, and micronutrients that are packaged alongside the fleshy, chewy highlights of, for example, a single kernel of corn, as opposed to just its sugar molecules that are granted an engineered shortcut to our brain (looking at HFCS). I had ingrained in my head that practicing balance and variety would sort most things out naturally, and to betray that principle with a mysterious powder often accused of heavy metal contamination definitely came with mental barriers. On top of that, THE SHIT ALWAYS TASTED AWFUL. There is a lot of sacrifice and discipline that comes with the process of improving your fitness, but goddamn, taking away the joy of eating feels criminal and like a slippery slope to some disordered eating, which plenty of "fit people" have problems with anyway.

I still stand by these criticisms. In an ideal world, everybody would be handed the perfect variation of fruits and vegetables and legumes and spices that comes with not too much but also not too little protein composition, which they would choose to cook up at their leisure by listening to their finely-tuned hunger cues and anabolic windows, set by efficient metabolic systems and pristine hormonal regulation. In this world, everyone would agree with my criticisms and nobody would bat an eye at the at-times-questionable food science invention that is protein powder. But over the years I've truly sat with the pressure that humans are facing in their every day lives - impossibly paced schedules that require us to compensate for sleep deprivation with caffeine and for-profit food systems that pump out cheaply-produced junk with empty calories, just to name a few. My luxury when studying nutrition for the first time in 2020 was existing as a student in a socioeconomic bracket that allowed me to practically live in this ideal world until the world began to open up again slowly. Today, three years later, I've practically flipped the circumstances by pursuing arguably one of the most demanding career paths I possibly could have chosen. My nutrition will on many days be completely out of my hands, along with most things. I guess for the time being, a processed powder incorporated into my regular routine gives me the reassurance that, at the very least, I'm hitting my macros for the day. One less thing to think about.

I was shocked to find out that the one I finally settled on was nearly unanimously hated for how bad it tastes, when I thought for once, it tasted like normal food with no weird ass aftertaste. I try to drink a protein shake once a day using the naked pea - i love it because it's void of the classic sugar alternatives/preservatives that a lot of other powders have. I'm not necessarily opposed to consuming such things in moderation but given that in a good week I'm drinking this every day, I thought it was important to keep it as natural as possible. Although there is some discrepancy because of their sodium levels apparently due to their filtration process or something similar...will have to look into that more when I have more bandwidth. Based on what I know as of now, it's the most cost efficient, natural, and best tasting (clearly subjective) option in the market today. When I drink it with just milk and 2 scoops of PB2, it's vaguely similar to the misugaru latte, a drink my grandma used to make for me when I was a weeee little baby still living in buff. Perhaps this nostalgic touch is just enough to let me tolerate an otherwise admittedly bitter flavor (though honestly, I'd prefer this than ghost which might taste better but has just as much sugar as a candy bar. If I wanted proteinless calories - which I often do - I would much rather commit to indulging and just eat the candy bar).

I'm hoping to regulate my eating schedule a little bit more by the time school starts so I don't have to really think about it during the inevitably busy days to come and so I can fit in these extra grams of protein on a daily basis. I've often felt too full this summer to squeeze in a drink - which, with everything ideally included, ends being 300 calories - pretty heavy and filling considering 1 cup of fruit juice is ~100 and already feels like too much sometimes after a satiating meal. It's too soon to tell if's had any impact on my athletic performance/progress, so tbd :)

[ginnyweatherby]

random Encanto headcanons that I don't know what else to do with

When Julieta had pregnancy cravings, she made it everyone's problem. Who knew pickles and ice cream were so good for burns?

If one of the babies couldn't sleep, Agustin often would take them into a quiet room and softly play lullabies on the piano, with the baby in his lap, or resting on his shoulder.

Luisa, Dolores, and Mirabel loved it the most, and it would put them to sleep instantly.

Dolores' room isn't entirely soundproof, but there is a specific area that is, so if she needs a minute of peace she can chill in there. This is also where her bed is.

This is a popular hangout whenever someone has juicy gossip.

She doesn't always like it when it's too quiet though, it feels wrong. Sometimes instead of her bed, she'll snuggle up on the window seat and listen to the sounds of the Encanto to lull her to sleep.

This is how she listens to Mariano's poetry. While she hears a lot, if she really focuses she can hone in on specific sounds.

His voice is her favorite.

Camilo does every school play, and almost always gets the lead, since he can always look the part.

Both Camilo and Mirabel are the go-to town babysitters.

Luisa loves stuffed animals. Her dad gets her one every year on her birthday, and she sleeps in a giant pile of them.

One time Julieta came to wake her up, and could barely find her daughter in the giant mountain of stuffed toys.

Luisa is a total daddy's girl. Whenever she gets too stressed, she can always count on her dad to give her a comforting hug or to clumsily braid her hair. It always ends up looking horrible, but she doesn't mind. Isabela can always fix it later.

She may be bigger than him, but she's still his little girl, and he often reminds her of this.

Mirabel always handmakes birthday presents. Whether it's embroidering delicate handwork onto a handkerchief for Agustin, or painting a picture frame for Abuela, you can always count on her gifts to be heartfelt and made with love.

Abuela isn't always as cruel to Mirabel as seen in the movie.

She's tough on her, and could definitely use some tact, but she still loves her granddaughter very much, and does tell her so.

Albeit not as often as she should.

Isabela names her succulents, as if they were pets.

She grows unusual herbs and vegetables that can't easily be found in the market for Julieta's recipes.

She has a particular fascination for carnivorous plants. It's not concerning at all.

While Pepa's emotions change the weather, she can control them if she really tries to.

If the crops are too dry, she is able to make it rain at-will, she just has to focus.

Unfortunately she has yet to perfect the skill, just because she was never really allowed to practice much, always trying to repress the brunt of her emotions.

The triplets were nothing but chaos as kids.

Bruno and Pepa were the most toxic pair. They'd either be getting along great and scheming to pull a prank on their sister, or squaring up with each other in the hallway for absolutely no reason. There was no in between.

Alma had to teach Julieta how to cook, because even though they technically worked - no one in town wanted to eat another mudpie.

Felix and Dolores enjoy to cook. While Julieta does do a majority of the cooking, sometimes they take over to give her a break.

Agustin is actually self-sufficent in the kitchen, but no one trusts him near the stove enough to let him cook often.

He makes a mean hot chocolate though. Maybe better than Julieta's. Don't tell her that though.

Alma has the best family recipes, and often helps Julieta prepare them, especially for holidays.

Luisa hates spiders. Antonio tries to tell her they're harmless, even translating for them, but to no avail. She absolutely hates them.

Camilo kills them for her, but never in front of Antonio. He found that out the hard way.

Antonio cried the first time he stepped on a bug after he got his gift. It was disturbing to hear.

He eventually stopped eating meat altogether, because talking with animals while eating their bretheren just felt... wrong.

Agustin is a cat person.

Julieta has two left feet when she dances, but Agustin still insists on twirling her through the house, even if it ends up with them both in a heap on the floor. Ulterior motives.

Pepa and Felix have a canopy over their bed, but it's more like a tarp. Felix was tired of waking up in a puddle, and installed it.

Pepa is more upset she hadn't thought of it before.

Bruno enjoys drawing.

He's actually pretty artistic, but doesn't often show off his work.

Mirabel is horrible at drawing however, which is frustrating when she's trying to visualize a new sewing design.

In these cases, she'll describe what she's invisioning, and Bruno draws them.

Alma taught all her granddaughters how to sew (or at least mend), but Mirabel was the only one to take much of a liking to it.

She makes all kinds of intricate embroidery work, while Isabela can barely sew a button back on.

Some of the "prophecies" that caused the town to reject Bruno weren't even visions.

Like that guy with the gut? He didn't see that, he just made a comment on the guy's poor diet.

Same with the fish lady. He could tell the fish was sick, and recommended a vet or else it might die.

Dolores knits.

Morning people: Alma, Julieta, Luisa, Dolores, Antonio, Felix

Would sleep until noon if they could: Pepa, Bruno, Isabela, Mirabel, Agustin, Camilo

Julieta is very touchy-feely. Whether it's hugs, kisses, handholding, cuddles, etc. she loves it. If Juli loves you, you'll know by the amount of kisses you receive.

Pepa and Felix knew they were pregnant first, but Isabela was born first. They're just better at tracking these things.

Mirabel was a rainbow baby. A true miracle.

[twostepstyless]

Those Christmas Lights, Keep Shining On

A.N: Hello my beauties, this is coming a lot later than I had planned but I was having a quiet Christmas Day with my family. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, I know this time of year can be difficult for a lot of people, myself included in some capacity. So even if you didn't have a great day I hope this Harry fic brings you at least a little joy.

As always, reblogs, likes and any feedback is always appreciated.

Warnings: None, I don't think this time, if anyone finds anything I should include as a warning please let me know

Contains: Peak Boyfriend Harry at Christmas, twinkly lights, fluff and soup stress.

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It was approaching 1:30 A.M on Christmas Eve, although you suppose you could call it Christmas Day at this point, and you haven’t slept a wink. You had been tossing and turning for the better portion of an hour while your boyfriend of three and a bit years, slept soundly next to you. Christmas always had you living on your nerves, there was always so much to organise, family to see, gifts to wrap, food to prepare, travelling here there and everywhere and on top of that you were supposed to be jolly about it all and spread Christmas cheer on top of that, no, not possible. Harry and you had arrived at his mum’s house in Holmes Chapel on the evening of the 23rd of December, and in the grand scheme of things, you really didn’t have that much to think about doing after arriving, but you just couldn’t seem to settle. You had thrown yourself into helping out as much as humanely possible so Anne could enjoy some uninterrupted time with her son, much to her chastising, saying that it should be you and Harry relaxing after the mad few months the pair of you had between touring and about a hundred other work commitments between the two of you.

So, throw yourself into it you had indeed, this year you were taking care of the soup course of the Christmas Day dinner. You had been up since 5 A.M on the morning of the 24th preparing the soup stock before wriggling into your boots and winter coat to go to Tesco for your vegetables when the shop opened at around 7. Leaving the stock bubbling away on the hob under Harrys watchful eye after he had padded downstairs at quarter past six grumbling in his sleepy, slow voice how he, “missed yeh in bed, go’ cold waiting for you to come back,” as his nose nudged against your cheek before pressing a chaste kiss where your skin tingled under his touch.

After, what felt like, an episode of Supermarket Sweep and two kilos of carrots later you were back home chopping like a mad woman while Harry worked around you making your morning coffee before he sat down next to you and picked up a vegetable peeler to get stuck in to help you. It was your Mum’s recipe you were using, which you were very protective over. She had taught you how to make it just before you moved away to university because it was always your comfort meal growing up and it had become your go to over the years but making it for a gaggle of people on Christmas day was a different ball game.

Harry was probably sick of the taste of it at this stage. Since arriving back in London a few short weeks ago you had made multiple practice batches while Harry swore down with every new batch forced down him that it was even better than the last.

“This has been the best one yet, lovie,” while he slurped the contents off his spoon.

“Okay, now this one, darling, you have absolutely nailed,” dipping the edge of his slice of bread into the steaming liquid.

“Did you do something different with the onion this time because I swear its really doing it for me this time, angel.” You maintained he was only trying to humour you so you wouldn’t stress yourself out over it and he’s probably so sick of eating the soup by this point the number of bowls of it you had force fed down his throat.

Tossing and turning over soup was a new one. What if no one else liked it, or you had missed an ingredient, over seasoned, burnt it to the bottom of the pan when heating it up.

What if no one liked their gifts, what if Harry didn’t like his gifts. You knew you were being ridiculous. Letting out a hard sigh, you swung your legs out the side of your shared bed, slipping into your pyjama trousers because running into Gemma or Anne in the middle of the night in your underwear was very, very far down on your Christmas to do list. Checking over your shoulder to check you hadn’t woken Harry, you saw him splayed out on his tummy, one hand resting on top of your pillow where it landed after he fell asleep caressing your hair and cheek. His eyes still close with his perfect lashes fanned over the tops of his cheeks and short puffs of air exhaling softly. He was beautiful when he slept. Christmas always made you feel sentimental, and you caught yourself every year, not caring about any of the presents under the tree, you were extremely grateful family and friends had thought of you, of course, but you didn’t need anything apart from Harry. He had been and continues to be your greatest gift. You were the centre of his universe and he yours; everything each of you had done in your lives, career, anything considered each other in your choices and put each other first, above everything. You orbited around each other perfectly.

Sparing one last glance at him and bending down to press a whisper of a kiss to the back of his neck as not to wake him, you shuffled downstairs to try and calm yourself down into a state where at least a few hours of sleep would be possible. Padding into the kitchen, you leaned over the large pot of soup still on the stovetop and inhaled deeply. It smelt exactly like your Mum’s so surely you couldn’t have made that much of a mess of it. You snapped a quick picture of it and text it to her asking if she thought the colour was right, she wouldn’t see it for a few hours, but you just needed a bit of comfort from the expert. You went to go grab your initial mug from the mug tree to see it wasn’t hanging there like everyone else’s. Anne had got you it for the very first Christmas you spent here, wanting you to feel included as everyone else in the family had one. That mug and gesture meant everything to you, you knew you were in it for the long haul with Harry back then and to see his Mum support that meant the world. You checked the dish rack and dishwasher for the aforementioned mug to no avail. Standing straight up you cast your eyes round the darkened kitchen to see it sat next to the kettle. The little note scribbled on the back of an envelope next to it exposed the culprit behind the missing mug.

“For when you can’t sleep tonight… get back to bed angel, Santa’s coming in the morning!! Your love, H.” A smile tugged at your lips as you caught sight of the bag of sleepy tea you travelled everywhere with, already in the bottom of the mug and the kettle just filled enough to fill your mug to brew your tea. Flicking the switch of the kettle you sighed happily, he really was the gift that kept on giving. Turning off the kettle just before it boiled so it didn’t whistle and wake the whole house, you grabbed the mug in both your hands and wandered through to the living room, the next stop on your late-night excursion round the house. You stood and watched the soft, warm white, twinkling lights illuminate the room catching the foil designs of the wrapping paper under the tree and the glitter of the decorations.

Taking a sip of your tea and closing your eyes as you felt the liquid heat your body and begin to start calming you down, you heard him.

“There’s somethin’ about Christmas lights, eh?” that slow, sleepy voice let out, him stepping up next to you admiring the tree.

“Mhmm, pretty innit?” you replied not looking at him yet, still swept up in the magic of the twinkling lights.

“Ah, they’re alright, I think I know of something even prettier though,” he murmured softly, your eyes finally glancing at him seeing him looking at you exactly like you had been looking at the tree. In complete wonder and adoration.

“You don’t half get proper soppy at Christmas time, d’you?” you snorted out a laugh shaking your head at him.

“All year round for you, m’love,” he grinned back with his nails scratching slowly at your lower back through your t-shirt. “Now, come wi’ me,” he said holding up your slippers and winter coat in his other hand. You looked at him properly this time, seeing he had slipped on a hoodie over his usually naked torso, paired with the tartan pyjama trousers he pulled out at Christmas time. Glancing down at his feet you saw his reebok classics peeking out, he looked like he had got dressed in the dark. Oh, if Harry Lambert and his fans could see him now, you thought to yourself. Giving him a puzzled look but shrugging into your coat anyway, he grabbed your hand when your feet were donned with the fluffy bunny slippers, pulling you out the house and locking up behind you.

“Get in the car Y/N/N, promise I’m not kidnapping you on Christmas, it’ll be fun honest,” he said opening the passenger door to his car we had driven up from London in few days prior. You slid in still clutching onto your mug of tea that was now rapidly cooling down in the late-night chill. Harry tucked your hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your lips that were pouted in a silent annoyance at his secrecy of where he was taking you at this hour.

“C’mon, H, where you taking me?” you said gulping down the remainder of your tea and balancing the mug in the cup holder as Harry slipped in the driver’s seat and buckling up.

“Know a drive always tires you out, thought we could go look at some Christmas lights til you relax a bit,” Harry looked over at you with a soft smile as he reversed out of his Mum’s driveway. “Plus, you need to go to sleep at one point my darlin’, I’ve got it on good authority that Santa’s pulled it out the bag with your gifts this year and y’know he doesn’t visit til your asleep,” Harry smirked at you as he drove round a few residential streets slowing down when passing the houses that had kept their lights burning throughout the night.

You guys drove in silence for about 10 minutes with Harry’s left hand tracing light circles in your thigh while his right gripped the wheel, until you got to a street where multiple houses were all still lit up. Harry pulled over and turned off the engine as your eyes couldn’t focus on anything in particular, just overwhelmed by the colours and sparkling lights. “It’s mad, isn’t it?” you whispered into the darkness of the car with the quiet hum of Harry’s Christmas playlist in the background.

“What’s that baby?” Harry asked lowly back, not being able to tear his eyes away from one house that had its tree sat in the large bay window, the warm white lights clearly set to the twinkle function.

“Just that, in every one of these houses, there are people...” you trailed off looking towards another house that had a fancy projector cast on the outside of the building with images of cascading snowflakes.

“Hm, that’s what houses tend to have in them, my love,” Harry said as a bewildered smile tugged at his lips as he pondered over your strange statement.

“Not how I meant it H,” you let out a little giggle glancing over at him, “I don’t know how to explain it, just that, on this street, there are what? At least 30 houses? All with likely more than one person in them, and they’re all just living their lives, nothing to do with us and us nothing to do with them and we’re all just connected together with… Christmas lights.” You looked out the window of Harry’s side of the car at another house with icicle styled lights following the shape of their roof. “I suppose I mean, that we don’t know what those people are experiencing in their houses, maybe it’s their first Christmas without a loved one, or their first with a new baby, maybe someone forgot to buy a present for an in-law or there’s people who don’t celebrate Christmas at all but just decorate for the joy of it, I don’t know, do you know what I mean or do I sound like I’ve lost the plot or somethin’” you let out an airy laugh looking over at your beloved.

“Mmm, yeah I get that, maybe there’s someone in that house with the blow-up Santa in the front garden, who’s losing sleep over a soup they’ve practiced tha’ many times I think it’s physically impossible for them to fuck it up at this point… oh wait, that’s just you,” he teased you pinching your side.

“Heeey,” you whined out, lightly smacking his hand off your side only for him to grab your hand and kiss the back of it, “don’ make fun of me, I jus’ want it to be perfect. I’m glad y’understand me about what I mean by people being in their houses though.” you hummed out lacing your fingers with his. His light teasing about you losing sleep over soup actually helped you relax a bit, in the grand scheme of things, if it did somehow go wrong, which he was also right about your relentless practicing making that likelihood almost impossible, it actually does not matter, Christmas won’t be ruined by a dodgy bowl of soup.

“Life can be so challenging a lot of the time,” Harry contemplated playing with your fingers, “like you say, we don’t know what people are going through and the run up to this time of year can be so stressful, there’s somethin’ sort of beautiful about those few hours when everyone goes to bed on Christmas Eve. It’s quiet, you can’t do any more, if you’ve forgotten a gift tha’s just too bad, and the lights just seem to make all those troubles melt away so we can just live in the moment when the sun comes up,” he smiles while staring at the front windscreen, a few light flakes of snow beginning to settle on the glass.

You tugged at his hand that was still laced with yours and his glittering green eyes met yours and you swore they were better than any Christmas light you had seen before.

“I’m glad we’re here, together,” you said, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb caressing gently under his eye.

Harry’s eyes were blown out with complete adoration for you as he turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand that had been cupping his cheek. “Y/N, you’re my greatest present, not just on Christmas, but everyday y’know.” He leant forward pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you, sweets, more than anything,” you whispered ducking your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, “I think I could be ready to sleep now though,” you said letting a puff of air exhale through your nose in a light laugh as you felt a yawn escape up through your throat and out your mouth.

“Let’s get you to bed, beautiful,” Harry softly spoke, as he turned the key in the ignition to drive you back to Anne’s. You felt your eyes droop heavier on the short route home and could barely remember clambering out the car and padding back up the stairs as quietly as you could as not to wake everyone. Harry’s hand had barely left yours as he led you to your bed and slipped you under the thick duvet with the brushed cotton bedding set Anne had put on to keep you both warm enough.

Harry held onto you until he was fully sure you were consumed under a thick blanket of sleep. He replaced his body with a pillow for a second so you wouldn’t wake when you felt an absence. Sitting up on his side of the bed he reached across sliding open the drawer of the bedside table, digging past his iPad and leather-bound journal he had stored in there for the time being knowing Y/N wouldn’t go in that drawer if that’s what was on top. His hand reached the back of the drawer and felt around until he got what he was after. He pulled out the little velvet box, opening it up to reveal the glittering ring he had been designing with you in mind for the last few months.

Harry would do anything for you, he’d let you leave your Christmas lights up year-round if that’s what made you happiest, so that’s what he planned to do. When everyone else left for a Christmas Day walk, Harry would ask you to be his forever, under the twinkling lights you loved so much. A question he’s wanted to ask you since your very first Christmas together. Sliding the velvet box back into its hiding place at the back of the drawer, he looked over to your angelic face, totally relaxed under the guise of sleep. Slipping back into your arms so the pair of you would wake up wrapped in each other, totally consumed by the other. Yeah, tomorrow was going to be perfect Harry thought, as he pressed a lingering kiss to your hairline, watching your mouth quirk into a smile in your sleep at the sensation. Absolutely perfect.

Those Christmas lights keep shining on

[ladykissingfish]

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Ten // Zetsu

“So how are they doing?” Zetsu took a moment, to gather his thoughts before answering. Madara would call on him every so often to give updates on the members of the Akatsuki, their successes and failures, their personalities. He asked Obito the same questions, but in truth he trusted Zetsu’s observations a bit more. “The boy has a tendency to let emotion and attachment cloud his overall judgment,” Madara would tell him, over and over again. “I rely on you to give me the facts, and nothing else.” Madara is right in that Zetsu doesn’t have the same connection with the group that Obito seems to have; however, he’s had more fun and more amusement being around this eclectic gathering of souls than he has around anybody else in his long, long life. After his “visit” with Madara, he travels back through the ground to the Akatsuki hideout; just in time for his turn in the Mistletoe game.

Pein

Pein sighs as he approaches the plant-man. He had been hoping that he could avoid this altogether, but apparently his luck had run out. Nagato won’t admit this, because to admit weakness is a failure, but ... Zetsu creeps him out to catastrophic levels. Nagato has dealt with sub-human species before during his travels, but what even was Zetsu? A plant? A man-plant? A mythical creature, a result of an experiment gone wrong? Indeed, Zetsu looks like the type of creation that would step out of one of the traitor Orochimaru’s labs. “Good evening, Leader.” The Pein-body nods and steps closer, steeling himself did this. Zetsu smilles, and Nagato (through Pein) can see splotches of blood dotting the man(?)’s teeth. He must have just eaten, which is good ... not that he would have found the artificial Pein body to taste in anyway pleasant. He gives Zetsu a quick kiss on the forehead, struggling to keep the grimace off his face as he notices how cold, and clammy, and ... inhuman the skin. As he walks away, he could almost swear he can hear Zetsu chuckling to himself ... not that he’s willing to turn around and check for sure.

Konan

Konan’s heart drops when she sees how excited Zetsu looks to see her. He’s smiling and waving to her. “Konan-san! Konan-san!�� Still, she can’t help but smile; the voice unmistakably belongs to White Zetsu, the decidedly more friendly (if you could call it that) of the dual-personality plant. When it had been Konan’s turn under the little green plant, Zetsu had refused to kiss her because White Zetsu had proclaimed he “wasn’t ready” and Black Zetsu had berated him for it. Things had changed, apparently, as evidenced by Zetsu reaching out and taking hold of her hands. “Be gentle with me; I’ve never kissed a woman before.” Konan nods, and then she reaches up with her small hands, cups Zetsu’s face, pulls him down to her level and kisses first his forehead, then both cheeks, then his nose, then his lips, softly. Zetsu is stunned: he never imagined his first on-the-lips kiss would be so ... pleasant. “T-thank you, Konan-san.” She nods and smiles, before walking away back to her room. As he watches her leave, he starts to talk to himself. “She smelled good.” “All humans do. It’s their blood.” “It wasn’t her blood; it was just her. Her skin. Her hair. She was —“ “The last thing we’re going to do is act like a fool over some human woman.” White Zetsu blushes; he doesn’t think he’s acting like “a fool” at all. Kissing Konan was just an interesting experience, that’s all. Another checkpoint on a long, looong list of interesting experiences.

Kakuzu

“This is it, right? This is the last one? Thank God; now we can all go back to doing more productive things with our time.” Zetsu blinks when Kakuzu says that; out of all the members of this group, THIS man was the most no-nonsense, serious guy Zetsu had ever met. He always had his eye on the bottom line, and was more focused on money than Zetsu would have believed possible. About a year back he had approached Zetsu with his idea to start a vegetable garden in order to cut back on market cost of food, to which Zetsu agreed. Taking care of plants was second nature to him; what he DIDN’T expect was that, quite often, Kakuzu would join him in the garden. The old guy had a surprisingly green thumb, and being in the garden seems to give him some much-needed peace. It was during one of these quiet times, as Kakuzu was tending to some tomatoes, that he confessed, quietly, that working in the dirt reminded him of his mother. “We had no money. My mother used to labor on neighboring farms for food or vegetable seeds. She created a beautiful garden, better produce than any of the farms around us. So we never went without.” Kakuzu approaches him now, his mask already lowered, and he delivers a light kiss to Zetsu’s forehead. As he’s about to leave, Zetsu informs him that he’s gotten hold of some rare flower seeds, and asks if he wants to plant them later. “You can’t eat flowers; if you’re not growing something for food then what purpose does it have?” “It provides beauty. Doesn’t that count for something?” Kakuzu rolls his eyes but there’s a smile on his face, which he quickly covers by pulling up his mask. “I’d be glad to help,” he says, gruffly, before leaving.

Sasori

Another no-nonsense, extremely straightforward Akatsuki member. One thing about Sasori that Zetsu will never understand is Hiroku. Why does the redhead choose to hide himself in that hideous carapace when his OWN puppet body was undoubtedly stronger, faster, and had a higher-level weapons capacity? For that matter, why would a perfectly healthy young man choose to rip out his own humanity and turn himself into such a creation in the first place? Mysteries bounded concerning Sasori of the Red Sand, and even someone as world-weary as Zetsu was in no hurry to uncover them. “Good evening, Sasori-san.” Sasori grunts in return; for once, he’s in his own body. Sasori doesn’t seem at all eager to take the initiative, so Zetsu leans down and kisses him on the forehead instead. He licks his lips at the pleasant woody taste that floods into his mouth; being near Sasori reminds him of peaceful days spend photosynthesizing in the forest, taking in the air of nature while the sun beat down on his face. Sasori leaves while Zetsu is lost in this lovely thought.

Itachi

Zetsu would often look at Itachi and think, this child is in trouble. His scent was wrong, his chakra was wrong, and his mental state ... couldn’t have been all that good. Zetsu is the Akatsuki’s spy but he knows for certain that Itachi is one too, that he never cut his ties to that village of his and centered his (and everyone else’s movements) away from his home as much as possible. Zetsu could expose him to everyone, but ... what would be the point? After all, even Madara is only an unwitting puppet in the grand scheme of things to come, and Itachi ... the group was made just that much more powerful with him in it. Zetsu often wishes that Itachi, not Madara and not Obito, was the Uchiha “in charge”; but that wouldn’t work. Itachi’s raw intelligence was a force to be reckoned with, and he wouldn’t take lightly (or at all, really) to being “used” by anyone. Although, in Zetsu’s opinion, nobody on earth could possibly use the sweet boy worse than his own village had. “Good evening, Zetsu.” So polite. So pleasant, even to those who didn’t deserve it. This child, it would be a tragedy when he passed. Zetsu quickly leans down and kisses his cheek, noting how cold the young Uchiha was. “You should warm up with a blanket, Itachi. You’re freezing.” Itachi nods, and then he bids Zetsu a good evening as he walks slowly back to his room.

Deidara

“Oi, Zetsu! Look at what I made!”, Deidara exclaims as he approaches him, holding up a small clay bird. “Isn’t it sublime?!” Zetsu simply nods; in truth, ALL of Deidara’s creations, no matter what they are, look boringly similar to Zetsu. And he didn’t understand the young blonde’s way of taking such careful, meticulous care in sculpting these things ... only to have them explode a few seconds later. And the art pieces weren’t the only closure things about Deidara, as Zetsu had observed many times that the kid just wasn’t the best at controlling his temper. Zetsu would often question Obito as to why he continued to let himself be partnered with him, as Tobi’s idiotic tendencies would surely get Obito killed one day. All Obito would do is shrug and say that Deidara wasn’t that bad. Well, whatever; Zetsu didn’t intend to spend too much time thinking about it. Thinking that it’s about time to do something different with this game, Zetsu takes hold of Deidara, tilts him backwards by the waist, leans down and kisses his neck. When he keys Deidara back up, the guy is as red as a tomato. “What the hell? What was that for??” “Has anybody ever told you that you’re very aesthetically pleasing?” “Aesth-what? You’re not making any sense, weirdo!” Zetsu just smiles and pulls Deidara back to him, this time enveloping him in a soft hug. “You make a tedious time much more bearable. Please continue to do so ... with your art.” Deidara doesn’t really get what Zetsu means, but his ears did pick up Zetsu’s compliment(?) to his art, so he walks away happy.

Kisame and Hidan

The half-shark and the half-plant relate to each other on their carnivorous tendencies, and Zetsu at least is glad to have at least one other person in the Akatsuki that understands his dietary choices. Well, almost. “I’ve eaten a lot of weird meats, Zetsu-san, but I’ve yet to taste human flesh.” “A shame; it really tastes a lot like salty pork.” Then Zetsu lowers his voice and asks, with an unsettling smirk, “Say you decided you want to try a human. IF you could eat any member of the Akatsuki, consequence-free, who would it be?” Zetsu is half-kidding and doesn’t expect Kisame to answer, so he’s surprised when he answers, without hesitation, “Hidan.” “That’s odd; that would be my choice, too. The scent of blood is always on him. Well-seasoned entree.” Kisame bursts out laughing, and Hidan, who happens to be walking by, hears him and stops. “What’s so funny, freak? You laughin’ about mouth-fucking Bigger Freak over there?” Kisame smiles, showcasing ALL of his sharp teeth; and Zetsu says, quietly, “You smell good, Hidan. Can you come closer so that I can catch a better whiff?” and something about the look he’s giving him makes Hidan’s blood run cold. “No fucking way, you crazy weed!” He informs Zetsu that he’s not going to kiss him, and he walks backward to his room, keeping a close eye on Kisame and Zetsu until he reaches his door ... and locks it. Kisame laughs once more, and then he leans into Zetsu and kisses his cheek, before returning to his own room. On his way down the hall he stops at Hidan’s door and says, sweetly, “Have a good night, brat!” which is met with loud cursing behind the wood.

Tobi

When Zetsu first laid eyes on a much younger Obito, he was positive that the kid wouldn’t live through the night. Bloodied, bruised, and with half of his internal organs either rearranged or crushed entirely — “No. He is strong.” Zetsu could only look at Madara in disbelief; what about this dying child seemed in any way “strong”? But then Obito lived through that night, and the next, and before Zetsu knew it, he was taking his place in the grand scheme of this Akatsuki Madara had put together. But for the longest time, Zetsu was sad anytime he so much as looked at “Tobi”; he had watched a bright young boy whose hope couldn’t be crushed even by a boulder deteriorate into an angry, vengeful man who had witnessed (and been mentally and emotionally damaged by) the deaths of all that he once held dear. But a miracle of sorts began slowly unfolding; the more time Obito spent around these people, the happier he seemed to become. It was as though he’d regained his family; and although these individuals are really nothing more than fodder for what’s to come, Zetsu is happy that they are managing to provide Obito with the peace that he deserves. “Tobi” approaches him now, and, seeing that they’re alone, chances it to take off his mask. “Long day,” he says, using his own voice, to which Zetsu agrees. “Longer when you’re starving.” Obito smiles at the comment, and his childlike grin shows flashes of the boy who danced in triumph when he was able to complete a set of push-ups on his own. “You’re always starving though.” “You’re not one to talk; I watched you put away at least eight trays of dango yesterday.” The two chuckle, and Obito moves closer, looking shy now. “Ready?” Zetsu nods, and Obito leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth, just barely touching the bottom of Zetsu’s lips. During the kiss, Zetsu closes his eyes and inhales; all of the candy and pastries that the man ate gave him a delightfully natural, sweet scent. Obito slides his mask back on and turns to go, but before he gets far, Zetsu calls out to him, “Hey?” “Yeah?” “I have a serious question for you.” “What is it?” Using White Zetsu’s voice, and making his grin even wider, Zetsu asks, “All that crap you eat ... does it make you have to crap a lot during the day?” Obito’s face turns red behind the mask and he bursts out into a raucous laugh. “All these years! All these YEARS and YOU’RE STILL ASKING ME ABOUT CRAPPING!” He laughs so hard that he wakes up Deidara, whose room is closest to the living room area. “Tobi, what the fuck?! Go to bed before I stick a kunai up your ass!” Obito immediately goes into Tobi-mode and apologizes to his Senpai. Deidara goes back to his room and Obito gives one last wave to Zetsu before going to his own.

[epitheterasedgen]

If everyone went to a county fair(like the kind you would get fried pickles at-) what would everyone do?

Fun fact! I wrote almost this WHOLE list before going, “wait, this Howie bit feels familiar. did I already write the EAM going to the fair???”

I sure did.

Oh well. Guess you get a part two!!!

Percy implements the buddy system right away bc she is NOT losing any of her kids to one of Ramsey's crazy schemes

(Everyone is so happy Ramsey talked her into letting them do this)

Molly and Gio book it for the rides first— Sylvie promises to catch up with them later, definitely, probably, he doesn’t get motion sickness what are you talking about

Their favorite rides are the spinny ones, because Molly doesn’t like extreme ones that turn you upside down and make you sick, but she LOVES being thrust against the wall and just getting off dizzy and giggling

Percy invites Sylvie to go look at the displays with her! Sylvie needs the excuse to not go with Molly so he goes along with her to the fruit/vegetable contests and old-person quilting displays and pretends to be interested

Ramsey runs to the lottery, but Zora’s already there. (“Cheater.” “Hey, ah didn’t even need to use my epithet! Yer just short.”) They spend too much money and lose it all, RIP

Howie immediately goes to the only thing he’s interested in, the beekeeping exhibit where you get to watch the bees up-close and get a free sample of honey

The whole group ends up shopping at the same time, but the shopping arenas are so huge they manage to just barely never bump into each other

Mera spends a long time at several stalls, with cute dolls or pretty jewelry or trinkets, most of which are useless but of course Indus buys them all for her

He buys a splat toy for himself! You can throw it at a wall and it DOESN’T BREAK! :O

Indus is basically happy and set for the rest of the day

Molly buys a small bow with a bear in the middle and Percy picks up an information pamphlet for a new vacuum (which Ramsey later makes her throw away because “oh that brand is garbage, trust me once I infiltra... worked for them”)

Around lunchtime, they all get various unhealthy deep-fried foods and meats and corn on the cob with way too many toppings

Percy finds them all a nice small area of tables at an outdoor arena with nothing playing yet, and while they eat they watch people attempt the bungee jump nearby (where people jump off a crane and onto a huge trampoline while attached to a bungee cable)

Ramsey gets people to bet on whether or not they’ll actually jump, because apparently lots  of people pay the entree fee but chicken out once they see the height

As they finish eating, the next stage act arrives! It’s an a cappella quartet that’s getting on in years, but you know what? They’re really nice and chat with the family while they set up, and one of them actually knows Howie from his work. Howie is gratified

Surprisingly, once they start their show, they sound fantastic. Percy ends up buying one of their CDs for the car, which shocks everyone because Percy never spends money for fun. Ramsey suspects this might be the kind of music she listened to as a kid, but doesn’t pry

Zora offers to buy all the kids dessert. Percy insists they should at least wait a while because they just ate; Zora responds to this by buying a HUGE soft-serve ice-cream (literally a foot tall on the cone) and eating it all in front of her

Molly and Gio both want to try out the rock-climbing wall, so Ramsey pays for them! (There are a lot of paid attractions at the fair.) Gio has the advantage because of his long limbs, but neither of them reach the top. At least they have fun!

Ramsey and Zora both want to do rides in the evening, when all the lights are on, so Percy supervises to make sure they don’t kill each other

The kids take this chance to check out the games, which Howie supervises to make sure they don’t kill each other

They’re really bad at them because they’re all rigged, but Gio convinces Howie to take a shot (it’s a baseball-throwing game) and he KNOCKS EVERYTHING DOWN AND WINS A HUGE TEDDY BEAR FOR MOLLY yes another one, Molly is allowed more than one giant teddy bear, long story short don’t let Indus OR Howie near the games

It’s literally as big as Sylvie. Howie has to carry it on his shoulders but doesn’t seem to mind, probably?

The last event of the night is a huge concert in an open-air theatre. Everyone hangs out in the back of the bleachers (for Molly’s misophonia) and smiles and eats kettle corn while listening to the music and watching all the lights burn against the night sky as the sun sets

[writingforfunsies]

The Demon Brothers: Creative Outlets Headcanons

they are all immortals and when you've lived longer than you can remember, you're bound to find a creative outlet to destress, alleviate boredom, or you know, to just have fun!

Lucifer

He’s a busy demon. If he’s not working, he's sleeping, or cleaning up one of his brother’s messes, so he doesn't have that much time to just relax and explore his creative sides. 

That said though, it doesn’t mean he has no hobbies at all.

He plays the piano. He used to play it every morning, back when he’s still in the Celestial Realm, when he’d taught Lilith how to play the piano every morning and she’d sat besides him as his fingers moved across the keys slower so she could copy him. 

Nowadays, playing the piano feels very nostalgic and bittersweet, but you’ll hear soft, bittersweet melodies drift from the music room once in a while.

He also composes his own music, but that's an even rarer occurrence. The last time he created a new music piece was centuries ago. 

(Ever since MC came to Devildom though, he's been itching to write music for them.)

Practices calligraphy for fun. He has a whole set of brushes and ink and lettering pens. His handwriting is already beautiful but his calligraphy is even more amazing.

Another thing he does is gardening. He's got a great eye for landscape architecture, he's the reason why the house's backyard is pretty. 

He plants decorative plants and likes to cross breed flowers so the House of Lamentation's backyard is full of pretty shrubs and unfamiliar flowers. 

He is usually joined by Beel as he is the other brother that finds gardening very relaxing.

Mammon

He definitely shows his creativity by coming up with the most absurdly brilliant, out-of-the-box, original schemes to make money.

Mammon can draw, like really good. His drawings are very realistic. He prefers to use traditional media: charcoal pencils, graphite sticks, blenders, erasers, drawing pens, brushes, and maybe some watercolors.

He usually does architecture sketches.

But if you check his drawers, you’ll find several sketchbooks of his brothers in different candid poses. MC alone has taken up three whole sketchbooks. Mammon makes sure MC doesn’t see those sketches though.

Crashes Asmo’s Art Day regularly, claiming that if Levi’s invited then the Great Mammon should be too. Asmo and Levi always complains but they let him stay anyway.

Mammon also has a natural talent on jewelry making and metalwork. He makes jewelry from buttons, beads, pearls, diamonds, and crystals. From small pendants to elaborate neckpieces, simple anklets to ornate hairpins. 

Mammon has made metal bookmarks for Satan because the book lover always misplaces his bookmarks or destroys them in fits of rage when he doesn't like a book's ending.

He sculpts wood. It takes him months to finish one small piece because he only does it when he's really, really bored, he prefers to make his much more profitable jewelry. 

He keeps all of his sculptures in his room, small and detailed pieces of wood engraving of Devildom native animals lining up on one of the shelves.

Leviathan

This is canon but he draws! He doesn't think he's very good at it, but he really enjoys it. 

Unlike Mammon who likes to draw with his charcoal pencils and drawing pens, Levi prefers to draw digitally. He still switch to traditional media now and then though.

Has a monthly scheduled “Art Day” where he and Asmo hang out together, Levi draws with his sketchbook or his drawing tablet and Asmo paints. They basically just gossip and hype each other’s art.

Dabbles in making short animations but feels like it’s just not something for him. He makes short comics though.

He wants to be able to make his own video game someday though. Maybe after he learns programming.

He makes the most detailed cosplay outfits for his own cosplays. He sews really good and patches his brothers clothes when they ask. Where do you think Asmo learns how to sew his own clothes from?

Really good at dancing and he really likes it too. He's a natural at it. From the most intricate traditional Devildom dances to freestyle dancing. He can make new moves on the spot and can copy any moves from one look.

He’s a shy baby though, you’ll rarely see him dance when he’s sober.

Except when he’s playing DDR (Demons Dance Revolution). Then, it’s like he’s the most confident demon in Devildom.

Satan

Satan writes poetry when inspiration strikes him. He has also written short stories but he always comes back to creating beautiful poems. He’s got a way with words.

Photography is something he has only recently taken interest in but he has a great eye for taking breathtaking shots. 

Has become the family’s go-to photographer.

“Satan, take a picture of me and Mammon!” “Satan, take our picture, quick!” “Satan, help me get a picture for my Devilgram!”

He’s the reason Asmo’s Devilgram pictures always look like they’re taken professionally in a photo studio or something.

Satan loves art, likes to stroll through museums and stare at paintings for hours, but has little talent in creating them. Even so, he still likes to paint even if he's not good at it. 

Sometimes he just wants to slap paint on a canvas and make a colorful mess. It's fun. 

He joins Art Day every other month.

Another thing he does is knitting! It relaxes him. It gives him something to focus at when he's angry (um, angrier than usual), just to give his hands something to do that doesn't involve breaking anything. The simple patterns he makes are easy enough that they don't frustrate him. 

Rarely ever finishes his knitting though, you'll just find this 5 meters long knitted fabric in one corner of his room with the ends coming undone because he calms himself down enough to stop knitting.

Asmodeus

Regularly designs, cut, and sew his own clothes. 

Has a lot of sketchbooks full of drawings of flowy dresses and stylish coats and many aesthetically pleasing shirts. 

He has started his own clothing line and sometimes collaborate with Majolish. 

But for the most part, he designs clothes for himself and himself only, he doesn't want anyone else to wear clothes as fabolous as his.

Nail art? Nail art. 

Asmo paints all of the brothers nails and sometimes he'll persuade one of them to let him do a complete manicure, with glitter polish and shiny studs and all. 

Yes, even Lucifer. You just never see the results because Lucifer wears his gloves almost all the time.

Asmo creates beautiful makeup art. He doesn't really like a lot of makeup on his own face though, so his brothers' faces are his canvases.

He also has a great eye for interior decorating and flower arranging. He restyles his room every month.

Not many people know it but he paints. And he's very good at it. He has done a painting of each brother, the paintings can be seen on the walls of the House of Lamentation's hallways. 

Art Day with Levi (and sometimes Satan or Belphie) is spent with him in front of canvases, chatting with his brothers, paint splatters on his hands. It's the only day that he doesn't mind looking a little messy.

Beelzebub

He cooks, of course!  And bakes too!

It's one of the times he’s willing to wait to eat because cooking the ingredients first rather than just straight up eating them will make the foods taste better. 

Half of the food in the kitchen are his creations. Anything he can make on his own from scratch, he will; jams, ice cream, sauces, juices, bread, chips, etc. 

Likes to experiment and always do something different than the original recipes. 

He garnishes his cooking like it’s something you order from a five star restaurant.

Beel is another demon who has a green thumb. He likes taking care of plants and doesn't mind getting a bit dirty doing it so gardening is another hobby of his. 

If Lucifer plants ornamental plants, Beel grows useful plants like herbs and vegetables and small fruits. He's also good at topiary.

Always has an idea for a DIY project. 

His creations is scattered all over the House of Lamentation. Belphie's drawer divider is made out of yogurt cups. Broken drawer knobs recycled into Asmo's jewelry organizer. The coat rack. The bathroom towel holder. 

Even Lucifer's hanging Demonus rack is handmade by Beel when he's bored one weekend, with Mammon's help for the engraving decorations along the sides of the rack. Beel's got a bit of Bob the Builder in him.

He is very good at singing. His voice is clear and he has a broad vocal range. Has been caught unconsciously humming in class many times.

Has definitely sang Belphie to sleep.

Belphegor

Does his pranks counts as a creative outlet though?😂 Between him and Satan, Belphie's ideas are the most creative and out of the box, resulting on some of the best pranks they did.

Belphie does origami. It's relaxing, easy enough to learn, and doesn't take much effort and energy to do it. 

Has stacks of origami papers in his room: standard origami paper, foil paper, traditional Washi ones, the leather-like Momigami paper, all kinds of paper. 

He especially loves to make little origami stars and keeps them in glass jars in his room.

Belphie also has adult coloring books. 

And kids coloring books.

Coloring is relaxing to him. It's very calming to just lay down and fills a page with pretty colors for a while. It's not a tiring way to destress, he can color without moving from his bed, and it feels satisfying when he finishes a whole page. 

He sometimes joins Art Day if he's not too lazy to move. Still prefers to color alone where it's quiet though.

He also journals. It's another thing he can do that is inexpensive and not energy consuming. He writes about anything that comes to his mind, his thoughts, his ideas, memories. 

Definitely keeps a dream journal.

Also I headcanon that as the Avatar of Sloth, sleep and dreams are some of the things he can manipulate. He enjoys creating dreams; the worldbuilding, the story, the details. He can be really creative when it comes to making them, spinning the most vivid and imaginative dreams. 

They’re not necessarily good dreams though. After all, he is still a demon, his dreams will most likely mess up your mind than make you smile in your sleep.

[woeisme-iamwoe]

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

 I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay. 

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

 primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully 

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom. 

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it. 

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

 Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy. 

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

 Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale. 

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

 make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on. 

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

 our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch  

 two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes. 

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them. 

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.” 

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

 we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love. 

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

 Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on. 

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

 The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with. 

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

 darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married. 

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

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.

 the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic. 

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.

 Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites. 

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

 A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

 Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience. 

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

 Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride. 

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

 No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

 Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together. 

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

 Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while. 

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

--

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.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

 The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

 Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

 cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!! 

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

 Routine, by snoqualmie  (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly. 

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

 Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso. 

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.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

 Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read. 

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

 the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit. 

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

 the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it. 

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

 I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful. 

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong. 

 my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.  

 Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth. 

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week. 

 especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love. 

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

 sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried. 

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

 of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together. 

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

 cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot. 

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

 Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa. 

 Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it. 

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

 i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

 old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet. 

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

 all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay. 

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings. 

 we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it. 

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.  

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.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

 Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother. 

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

-

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

 film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru. 

 how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

[loveisnotadagger]

Love is Healing - Chapter Four

Chapter 4/?

Warning: There is a brief mention of when Loki let go of Thor's hammer when he was hanging from the Rainbow Bridge and how he had basically tried to kill himself by doing that. It's literally maybe three sentences, but it's there if that triggers something for you.

The only thing Loki really saw was the girl – no, Arianna; he remembered her name now. She has shoulder-length, honey blond hair, much like the color of his mother's hair, and bright ocean-blue eyes. That was all he noticed at that point and that was only because she was standing over him.

He took her in within the few seconds it took for his pain to register and then he felt as if he couldn't breathe. So intense was his agony that he couldn't even find the strength to scream out loud even though he knew he'd opened his mouth to do just that.

"Your ribs were broken," Arianna said. "I couldn't heal them completely. I'm sorry. I know it must be extremely painful."

She went on to tell him every other thing she'd found that needed to be healed. He no longer had any bruises, and she had healed his lungs, which had been damaged by the broken ribs.

"What you really need is food and water."

"Food sounds wonderful," Loki admitted weakly.

He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd eaten. He did, however, remember that when he'd been under the control of Thanos he would sometimes miss many days' worth of meals when he wouldn't cooperate.

"I think we should start with broth. See how well that stays down before we give you solid food."

Before Loki could reply the door to the room opened.

Loki hadn't been paying attention before, but now that he could focus on something other than pain, he realized he had no idea where he was.

He would have to worry about that later, however, because the only thing that mattered at the moment was that he was weak and in pain, and the person who had opened the door was the man who could turn into a beast.

Loki had never moved so quickly in his life. It caused him more pain, but he didn't care. This man wasn't going to get hold of him again. He wouldn't survive another round of being smashed around.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting to his feet and running, using whatever strength he had left to push past Banner and get away.

"Loki," Arianna exclaimed, but he ignored her.

A sharp pain went through his chest and it had nothing to do with physical wounds. He'd trusted Arianna as much as he could trust anyone. He'd allowed her to lead him out of his tormented mind only to have him awake here with the one being in the whole of Midgard that had been able to hurt him.

As soon as Loki's feet hit the floor, he stood up only to fall right back down. The pain that fired throughout his body took his breath away and jarred him enough to break through his adrenaline-addled body.

So he couldn't even stand? How was he to escape his fate if he couldn't walk?

"Loki," the girl whispered, kneeling beside him. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. I didn't betray you, and Bruce will not hurt you. He has no reason to now."

Loki didn't respond vocally, but when Banner tried to help him stand and sit back on the bed Loki allowed it without complaint. The doctor was surprisingly careful and gentle with him.

"He needs water and food," Arianna said. "Broth to start off with. He is extremely malnourished."

Banner nodded. "I'll have Tony get something brought here. What should I tell Thor and –"

"They'll want to see him."

Loki noticed that Arianna was looking at him. She wasn't dictating that they had to see him. She was giving him a choice. He could decide for himself.

He gave a quick nod and Banner left. Only a few seconds passed before both Thor and his mother flooded into the room.

"Loki. My son," Frigga said and sprinted to his bedside. "You're awake."

"Careful," Arianna said. "He's still in pain. I wasn't able to heal him as fully as I wanted to."

"He is able to be awake," Thor said. "That is enough."

"Okay, well . . . I'll leave you guys to it."

Loki stiffened when Arianna touched his shoulder, but she didn't remove her hand.

"I'll be back shortly with some water and your food." ----------

Once outside the room, Arianna slid down to the floor with her back against the wall. She was exhausted mentally and physically. She'd had to break through Loki's defenses and she'd had to fight against Thanos. If he was that powerful in Loki's mind, she hoped she never came across him in real life.

She'd been anxious to get outside and help the victims of the earlier battle, but now she was glad she had to wait. She probably couldn't hold up against a flea at the moment.

Unbidden, tears stung her eyes. What was she doing? What had she been doing for the past however many hours? She'd been helping a criminal. True, Loki had been through a lot, but did that matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Who knew what he'd done before he'd been tortured? Maybe he'd been bad all along. She didn't know.

A quiet sob escaped her and she clapped a hand over her mouth. She would not do this here where just anyone could walk by and see her.

"Aries?"

A figure hovered over her – short, dressed in black, red hair. Natasha – before sitting down with her. Arianna should have known that Natasha would be nearby. There was no way Tash would've gone far knowing her friend was in the other room with a psychopath.

"What's wrong? Did Loki hurt you?"

"No. Loki can barely sit up or stand. He's . . . he's – if he'd been human before now, he'd be dead."

"But he's not."

"No. I helped him a little bit . . . he's not him. Or . . . maybe he's more himself than ever. I don't know. But he's not the guy who tried to take over the world."

"That's a good thing. Why are you crying?"

"Because he's been through a lot, Tash. And I felt some of it. And I'm tired, and I just can't do anything else today."

"Then don't. You always push yourself too hard and then you end up feeling awful for days."

Arianna knew that was true, but she also knew she had several reasons for doing so. Because her best friend was a superhero, whether Natasha believed that or not, Arianna felt the need to prove that she was as useful as the other Avengers. She couldn't actually fight the bad guys, but she could clean up their messes. That was her job – or it had been until now.

"Am I crazy for wanting to heal him?" she asked. "I mean, I feel it was the right thing to do, but –"

"It is unprecedented," Natasha said. "But you also wouldn't be you if you didn't want to help. Just because he's a villain doesn't mean he can't also be a victim."

"He is," Arianna said. "He is a victim."

Natasha smiled softly. "Sometimes you care too much, Aries. Sometimes I think you're in the wrong line of work." ---------- Inside the room, Frigga was apologizing to Loki.

"Why did you not say anything before I stripped you of your powers?"

"I did not wish for you to know," Loki said.

What Loki wished was for Thor and Frigga to leave him alone. He was sitting up to save face, but he needed to lie back down. It was physically hurting him to stay upright.

And where was Arianna? He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he felt just a bit better with her in the room, and he would definitely need her with him once his mother and brother left. None of the other hero-types would dare touch him with her present.

Just as he was getting close to keeling over, Arianna came in. She was balancing a tray with a bottle of water and a steaming bowl of what Loki assumed was the broth she'd mentioned earlier.

"Hey," she said. "I got some vegetable soup and, obviously, water. You should lie down. I've got you covered."

She gestured to the tray she was holding. It had two legs that came down, one on either side.

Loki relaxed against the mattress, but he couldn't say he felt any more comfortable at all.

Arianna placed the tray down, one leg on either side of him, and then she reached down on the side of the bed. There was a small click and then then head of the bed was moving upward.

Loki stiffened. What kind of magic was this?

"It's just a hospital bed, Loki," Arianna said. "It'll help support you while you eat."

The soup looked good and smelled even better. He was so hungry, though, that the smell almost turned his stomach.

"Don't force yourself to eat, but you do need water. Drink it slowly or you'll get sick."

Why was she being so nice to him? What did she want?

"How long are you going to stay?" Arianna asked, looking at Thor and Frigga. "Not that you have to go, but you probably made the records with that energy spike you let loose by coming to this realm."

"In the morning when you begin the healing sessions again, we will leave," Frigga said. "You need to sleep and someone will need to stay with Loki."

"I am not a child," Loki said. "No one needs to stay."

That was a complete and utter lie. He needed someone with him because he really couldn't do for himself at the moment. The only thing that had been keeping the pain at bay had been his magic, and now he didn't even have that.

And . . . Arianna was going to continue to heal him? Why? For what purpose?

"Why would you do this for me?"

Arianna smiled softly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I tried to destroy this city," he responded as if it were obvious.

"You didn't want to destroy it. You wanted to rule it."

Those were his own words from earlier and now she was throwing them back at him. Before he could respond, however, Arianna saw her way out of the room.

Both Thor and Frigga had small grins on their lips and Loki rolled his eyes.

Loki didn't find anything funny about having his words thrown back at him. In fact, it only made him remember her earlier words. She'd wanted him to help save her city even though he'd been the one to bring destruction down upon it.

Lost in his own thoughts, Loki was surprised when warm liquid filled his mouth. It was the vegetable soup. It had a savory flavor as if it had been made with chicken broth.

His mother had brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Thankfully, Thor had already gone; Frigga must've sent him away.

Loki was able to eat a few of the vegetables, but he stuck mostly to the broth. He was able to finish his water, however. ---------- Down in the lobby area, Arianna and the other Avengers were lounging around on the furniture, waiting for word on what they were supposed to do next.

Director Fury had called Tony to schedule a meeting, which just meant they'd been given about a five-minute heads up on Fury's arrival. He'd probably gotten readings of energy when Frigga had arrived on the balcony of Stark Tower.

What if he found out they were harboring Loki there? What if Fury already knew?

They would try to take Loki away and Arianna didn't know if she would allow that, not without healing him first. If she intervened, however, they would probably take her away too. They would arrest her for aiding and abetting – or they would try to. Natasha would probably stand by her and Clint would too, not because they cared what happened to Loki, but because they cared what happened to her; Thor would help her if only so she could continue helping Loki; Tony would stand by her just to make Fury angry.

The only wild card was Steve Rogers. If he thought them taking Loki was the right thing to do, he would let them.

Bruce wouldn't want to be involved at all.

When Fury arrived, Arianna basically shrank into herself. He was one of the most intimidating men she'd ever met. It had nothing to do with his height or the fact that he wore an eyepatch. It had everything to do with the way he carried himself. He had a no-nonsense attitude along with all the confidence in the world.

He could back that confidence up, too. He had the power and ability to do pretty much whatever he wanted, and he usually did whatever he had to do to get a job done.

"Where is he?" were the first words that came out of Fury's mouth.

"Where's who?" Tony asked.

"Don't play dumb with me. Where's the one who killed Coulson?"

"He is hurt," Arianna said softly. "And he can't be moved."

"Can't be moved? If I were to try and take him from here, who would stop me?"

Thor was the first to step up and then it was Arianna. Standing next to the god of thunder, Arianna didn't think Fury was all that frightening. Tony stood by her as Arianna had thought he would.

Natasha and Clint hesitated, but Natasha did say, "Director, from what Agent Grace says Loki was tortured into submission. He was promised more pain if he didn't obey."

"And did Loki just offer up this information freely?" asked Fury, sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Not exactly," Arianna said.

And here was the turning point. She could either fess up and be turned into a weapon or she could keep quiet about everything and let Fury find Loki and take him away.

"Director Fury, I saw into his mind. I . . . didn't want to, but –"

"You what?"

"It's complicated," she said.

"I suggest you uncomplicate it," Fury demanded.

"I manipulate energy, Director. That's how I heal, and you know that. I can do pretty much anything I put my mind to."

"Like reading minds . . ."

"It was more like I could see what was in the forefront of his mind, and I didn't mean to do it. Our energies merged together and I just did."

"Why wasn't I made aware of this? Do you know how much you could do?"

"Yes, and that's why I didn't let you know. I mean, I'm basically a power source – like the Tesseract, and you wanted to make nuclear weapons out of that. I refuse to be used for destruction."

Arianna was aware she was exaggerating a bit. She couldn't really do anything she set her mind to, but she could do a lot. She had never really practiced, though, and she didn't really want to. She was fine not knowing how much she was capable of. She could heal people and that was enough for her.

"We have everything under control here," Tony said. "The guy is contained and no longer a threat."

"The energy readings you received earlier were from another Asgardian coming into our realm, sir," Natasha said. "Thor's and Loki's mother. She stripped Loki of his powers, so he really is harmless."

"He's mortal now," Thor said.

"He's still a terrorist and needs to be taken into custody," Fury stated.

"Not until he's better," Arianna said. "Give me a week."

"A week and he'll be better? Strong enough to be moved?"

"Yes. There are emotional traumas as well, but I can't really mend those."

"Well, we have psychologists to deal with that," Fury said. "You have a week, Agent."

Without further ado, Fury walked out the same way he came in.

"Thor, do you mind getting me the Tesseract? I can't actually heal Loki in a week, not by myself."

"What do you intend to do with it?" Thor asked, not suspicious but curious.

"Borrow energy." ---------- Loki was lying down and trying to sleep when Arianna came back to his room. He'd thought she was gone for the night but he'd obviously been wrong.

Thor was with her and he was carrying the container that held the Tesseract. What were they doing with it? He'd failed in his mission, and he couldn't get the Tesseract to Thanos now that he was mortal.

"We have a problem," Arianna said. "Fury wants to take Loki away. I bought us some time, but . . ."

"But?" Frigga asked.

"He only gave me a week." Arianna looked at Loki. "You don't want to be hurt when they take you from here. They might not hurt you further, but they won't take the time to heal you either."

"Are you sure no one would harm him?" Thor asked. "When Fury had him before, he asked me to . . . torture Loki to get information. He didn't seem to like it when I refused."

Arianna wasn't surprised when she found out Fury had suggested torture, but it had been different then. Fury didn't need information anymore and they already had the Tesseract.

"I want to spend another couple of hours healing you tonight. I can't heal the lashes until the infection leaves your body, but I can take the burns away, as long as you don't fight me this time."

"Of course I won't fight you," Loki said. "I don't think I was the one blocking your power last time."

Thanos, Arianna thought. Of course.

"Okay. I'm gonna need the room again," she told Thor and Frigga. ---------- "Oh, why isn't this working?" Arianna cried as she tried for the fifth time to draw the Tesseract's power into herself. "I did it without a problem earlier."

"Earlier you had not depleted your own energy," Loki said. "Your body is simply tired, as is your mind."

Loki had been watching her struggle for over thirty minutes now. Perhaps he was not meant to be healed that night. Pain was not new to him, so he could endure it.

"How did you end up with Thanos?" Arianna asked softly.

"I was . . . I fell off the Rainbow Bridge in Asgard."

"The what?"

"It's a bridge to other realms. When used with the Bifrost, it can take you anywhere in an instant."

"Oh."

Loki explained that he and Thor had been fighting and then Thor had destroyed the Bifrost. Both Loki and Thor had been hanging over the edge and Odin had stepped in. Odin had grabbed onto Thor and Loki had grabbed onto Thor's hammer. Loki had let go.

"And you woke up in a hell dimension?"

"If I'd had it my way, I wouldn't have woken up anywhere."

Arianna froze where she sat with the Tesseract in front of her, the blue cube shining bright but its power still not accessible to her.

"You wanted to kill yourself?"

Instead of answering directly, Loki said, "When I was a child I would spar with Thor. We had little toy swords and battle armor for children. He always won due to brute strength. Odin would pit us against each other in all things physical until I eventually just stopped fighting him."

"Did Odin get angry?"

"Yes."

Loki didn't know what he was doing. He shouldn't have said any of that. He didn't open up to people and especially not to people he'd just met. He blamed it on the pain he was in and the gratitude he tried not to feel for this girl for caring enough to help him. The extreme exhaustion didn't help him hold his tongue either.

"So, Thor is a warrior," Arianna said. "And you? What did you like to do?"

Loki was surprised to find Arianna was looking at him with open curiosity. She wasn't just asking. She really wanted to know.

"I spent most of my time in the library or studying magic with my mother, which made me an outsider."

"Why?"

"In Asgard men are expected to know how to fight. That's how they are recognized as men. It's how they are ranked. If you don't know how to fight, it is frowned upon."

"But you know how to fight."

"Yes, but not the way Thor does. He's stronger and bigger. I can't just punch my way out of a situation."

"Oh. And magic? What do they think of that?"

"It's considered underhanded. I can fight hand-to-hand if I must, but magic is my strength. I use it when I fight."

"I see nothing wrong with that."

"Of course not. You're a woman."

Loki noticed his remark made Arianna tense up and he realized how condescending he must've sounded.

"I assure you I didn't mean that the way I said it. I only meant that it was normal for women to study magic. Not so for men. There are very few warriors who are female."

"Hm. I hate fighting, so I would fit right in there. And I don't consider what I do to be magic. Others might see it as such because they don't understand how it's done, but . . . to me it's as natural as breathing. Or it normally is."

Loki realized that he knew next to nothing about this girl – and to him she was a girl. He was almost fifteen-hundred-years-old and she was probably twenty-five at the oldest.

Loki had been able to look into the other Avengers before he'd even attempted to fight them. Since Arianna had been called in only slightly before the attack on the city, he hadn't thought to ask Barton about her. He hadn't even known she existed.

She was by far the most interesting of the Avengers. She had so much power yet to look at her made one think otherwise. She was treating him like a friend would even though they couldn't be friends. They barely knew each other.

"Why're you being so nice to me?"

"Why not?"

That was the same answer she'd given earlier when he'd asked her why she was doing everything she could to heal him. It was infuriating.

"Don't give me that. I tried to take over your world. I destroyed half this city. You have every right to hate me. Aren't you angry? Do you not want revenge?"

To Loki's surprise, the girl laughed softly.

"You forget, Loki, that I saw into your mind. I know enough to know that your psyche was messed with enough to twist you into something you really aren't. And you're right. I could hate you, but I choose not to. Hate is a poison, one of the most lethal kinds.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that you hate yourself enough for everyone. We don't need to do it for you."

For some reason, unknown even to Loki, her response made rage flow through his veins.

"Why do you care?" he almost yelled. "What are you getting out of this?"

Loki noticed with some satisfaction that Arianna had flinched when he'd raised his voice. That was when he realized the conundrum that was Arianna. She was both one of the boldest and most easily frightened people he'd ever met. She didn't care for confrontation, but she wasn't afraid to tell anyone what was on her mind either.

"I care because . . . I don't know. I don't really have a good reason. I just care about people. I don't like seeing people hurting or suffering when they don't need to."

This she said softly, as if she were trying not to wake a sleeping child, but then she looked at Loki more seriously, almost glaring.

"As for what I'm getting out of it, it's peace of mind. I don't help people just because they need help. I help because I can, because I have the power to. I find it revolting that there are so many people in this world who can help but choose not to.

"So to ease your troubled mind, this has nothing to do with you. I'm trying to heal you for the sole purpose that you are suffering and I can end it. It makes me feel better when I help those in need.

"Now if you don't mind, please shut up. I'm trying to work."

[kinglivv]

Servator - Part 5

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: After your failed day out with the Master, he brings you home to your flat for the first time in months.

Warnings: Dealing with trauma, mentions of panic attacks

A/N: Wow, it has been forever since I updated this. If I’m honest, I completely forgot about it these past few months, but recently I’ve got a few requests just to do something fluffy and soft with the Master. I decided to add a pretty chilled chapter where the Master’s actually a pretty decent person for once.

Masterlist if you need a reminder of the series!

The Master closes your bedroom door behind him and takes a moment to properly gaze around your flat.

He’d never been here before – why would he have reason to? The Doctor’s humans and their personal lives had never been of any interest to him. He only cared about wrapping them up in his evil schemes, using them to his own advantage and killing them.

So why was he here?

He runs his finger along your kitchen counter as he contemplates this, collecting a wad of dust on his fingertip. You clearly hadn’t been here in a while. There’s dishes still in the drying rack, a coat slung over the back of the sofa and a dead plant by the bathroom window. It looked for all the world like you had just got up in the middle of a normal day and left.

In fact, that was exactly what had happened, except you probably hadn’t planned to have been gone for so long. He could picture the Doctor picking you up in the TARDIS one afternoon and you hopping on board excitedly, looking forward to another adventure. You hadn’t anticipated the Valeyard killing the Doctor and taking you her prisoner.

To his surprise, his heart aches for you and he quickly shakes off the strange and alien feeling. Instead, he sits himself down at your kitchen table and pulls out his TCE – it’s needed repairing for a while. It should keep him occupied for a few hours until you arose.

---

You wake up with a gasp, eyes snapping open as you come back to yourself.

Looking around frantically, you try to grasp where you are. A bed, sure, but - oh.

You were in your flat.

More to the point, you were home. You hadn’t done that in a while.

And where was the Master?

“Y/N?” There’s a knock at the door and the Master opens it and sticks his head in, answering your question. “You’re awake?”

“Yeah.” Is all you can muster, looking at him blearily.

He makes his way in as you manage to sit up.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, sitting down on the side of the bed. He rests a hand on your leg and you try to ignore the heat of it through the duvet.

“Fine. Sore.”

“I think you bruised a rib when you passed out. I didn’t manage to catch you in time. Sorry.” He actually looks reasonably guilty and you furrow your brow as you manage to unpick the memories, the fog of sleep lifting.

“I thought it would be –“

“You killed that woman.” You interrupt. “Why did you do that?”

“She scared you.” He states as if it’s obvious. “She deserved it.”

“You scare me. Doesn’t mean you’re killing yourself though, does it?” You point out.

“I scare you?”

“You’re the Master.”

“I’ve never scared you before.”

“Well. That was before all this.” You motion to the space between you two as if that could encapsulate everything you’ve been through these past few months.

The Master’s mouth twists slightly – he doesn’t understand why the idea of you being scared of him makes his stomach feel so heavy.

“Why am I home?” Is your next question, and the word ‘home’ feels unusual on your lips, it being such a foreign concept to you now.

“I wanted you away from the TARDIS,” He admits. “Any TARDIS. Taking you on that trip was a bad idea. You weren’t ready for it.”

“I’m fine.”

“You passed out because I killed someone! You’ve never done that before and you’ve watched me kill whole planets!”

“I didn’t pass out because of that!” You say defiantly, but it comes out quiet and weak.

“Then why?” He asks.

“I…” You clench your jaw. “I saw her.”

“Y/N, you know it’s not real-“

“She was there! In the doorway to the café, I saw her!”

“I think you just need to rest, Y/N.”

“Piss off.” You roughly shove back the covers, paying no mind to your crumpled pyjamas and his hand falls away from your leg as you pull away.

You make your way out into the hall and you take in a sharp breath as you’re greeted with a sight you hadn’t seen in god knows how long. You walk slowly towards the kitchen, running a hand along the white wallpaper and savouring the feeling of being in such a familiar and comforting environment.

“Do you want anything to eat?” The Master asks when he finds you standing in your kitchen, hugging yourself and staring out of the window.

You glance over at him and then back to the window.

“Sure.”

He whips out a can of soup from no where and pours it out into a pan, setting it on the hob.

“You can cook?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Warming up soup hardly counts.”

“S’more than I can do.”

He chuckles, and you find yourself laughing too as you settle down at the kitchen table, examining the various TCE parts and electrical equipment which he had littered it with.

You’re suddenly met with the heart aching and years old memory of the Doctor sitting there opposite you at the table. She had her sonic screwdriver in her hand and was attempting to turn your toaster into a clockwork squirrel, a grin on her face and her golden hair glowing in the afternoon sun. You bite your lip and look away.

Now that you thought about it, this place was full of her. You could see her wherever you looked, standing by the window, sitting on the counter, opening the fridge with that familiar scrunch of her nose. You hadn’t realised just how much her face had been committed to your memory, and you blink tears away when a bowl of vegetable soup is placed in front of you.

“You alright?” He asks warily, sitting down next to you.

“I’m going to have to sell this place.” You sigh, taking a sip from your spoon. “I can’t be here. There’s too much of the Doctor.”

He nods silently.

“There’s so many memories – everywhere I look I can see her and her stupid smile.”

He huffs a laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

You look up at him and smile slightly. It was strange, seeing a completely new side to the Master. He seemed softer, more pliant.

“But I think you should stay here for at least a few days.” He continues cautiously, knowing that he could get a punch to the jaw if he sounded too patronising. “At least ‘til you’re back on your feet. Then maybe we can think about the TARDIS again.”

“Are you gonna stay?” You find yourself asking, and you immediately cringe because you sound so bloody reliant on him.

“Of course.” He shrugs as if it’s a given. “So; I stay here, and you agree to get better, deal?”

“Deal.”

You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, watching as he smiles softly in response and returns to his TCE.

Taglist: @truthbehindthemysteries @queerconfusionthings @xenteaart @actuallyanita @ateliefloresdaprimavera @persephonehemingway @fabulous-jj-style @anteroom-of-death

[dokoni-mo]

Forgotten Coffee || Darth Vader x Reader

(A/N: yes hi so I wrote this for my good, good friend jojo @obiwankenobiness ,, she came up with this prompt and i ABSOLUTELY had to write it. This is one hell of a big ol fluffy fluff, so be warned! however, it might do you some good after chapter 5 of BaT :’))) speaking of which, I have tagged all my normal people for Bat/FaT,, i hope that’s okay!! one last thing - this is set after the events of RotJ and before the epilouge of FaT. I will link my masterlist below if you don’t know what im talking about/need a refresher!! I hope you all enjoy, ESPECIALLY you, Jojo. Thank you so much for being so kind, and thank you even more for being such a dear friend. ily and I hope this can make you happy, and I hope even more that it’s everything you ever wanted <3 )

Link to Masterlist : [x] 

WARNINGS: cursing, small amount of angst, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, otherwise none!! 

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~3500

~~~

Making a house on your new home planet was the easy part. Making it a home was the challenging part. 

It had been about half a year since the fall of the Empire. You and Vader had seemingly just gotten settled into this planet, learning about its climate, weather habits, vegetation and wildlife together along the way. It was quite the beautiful place, and the perfect place to hide. 

The planet was far, far away from any known systems, and much further away from any trace of the Empire. The two of you picked the planet for this specific reason; to be away from everyone. However, this hadn’t stopped you from telling his children where the planet was, pinging them a signal once you were able to construct a communication device strong enough. 

Was it sort of a risky move? Sure, it was. But you both agreed that his children deserved to know where the two of you were. 

Just in case they run into trouble and need our help, was how you justified it. 

Vader agreed with this, but disagreed at the same time. 

Yes, he did think it was a good idea for Luke and Leia to know where their father is, but also didn’t want anyone to know of the planet. Vader was unnerved, to say the absolute least, that somehow someone would find your new home and destroy it, and him alongside. Or, even worse…

Destroy you. 

He couldn’t bear the thought. 

Even just picturing you harmed in any way… 

It brought back old ghosts to Vader. Ones he didn’t wish to remember or visit him. 

All he simply wished to do was live out the rest of his days in peace, here on this nowhere planet with you. 

He, however, was finding this difficult to do. No matter how hard he tried, tried for you, his mind would slip back into a state of unbridled worry. 

That afternoon was one of those times. 

Constructing the house was proving to be much more difficult than you had originally thought. Coming from a village of people who made their own homes out of recycled materials, you had believed that constructing a house should be not much of a problem for you. Granted, laying out the foundations of said house really wasn’t. However, what went in the house was the challenging part. 

You knew that he needed certain things to keep him alive and comfortable (his meditation pod and bacta tank), but you never believed that constructing these things would be so challenging. Yes, you were trying to juggle this feat alongside the repairs to his suit, but his accommodations were the far more stubborn and frustrating of the two tasks. With  only having the rubble of a crashed Star Destroyer to work with, you had to bullshit your way around a lot of problems you occurred. You couldn’t, however, bullshit too much, because then you would start to jeopardize his health and comfort. 

Those were two things you were not willing to gamble with. 

With the setting sun creeping in through the windows of your house, you decided that enough was enough for one day. You had battled with the filter to his bacta tank for far too long, and your muscles and bones were complaining because of it. Hobbling your way into the half-furnished living room, you sat down upon the sofa with a long, deep sigh, relief washing over you as your legs got a much needed break.

A sheen of sweat on your forehead, you pulled off your fingerless gloves as quickly as possible, stretching and clamping them as you pulled your goggles off of your face, setting them beside you. With your hands now stretched, you focused on providing some relief to your legs, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe your muscles. 

Vader must have sensed that you had completed your work for the day, since he was quick to come in from the garden to see you. Looking up at his large, tall, black frame coming through the doorway, you smiled up at him, your cheeks pink from both the sight of your lover just barely fitting through the doorframe and your raised body temperature from your work. Closing the door behind him, Vader’s gaze went to your face. 

“Are you finished for the evening, darling?” he asked you, the bass in his voice nearly making the windows shake. 

You nodded your head, making circles with your shoulders to stretch them out, “Yeah, I am. Do you want anything for dinner? I’m not really hungry but I’ll make you whatever you want.” 

“That is quite alright.” he said, “I do not seem to have much of an appetite tonight either.” 

You ceased to stretch your shoulders at your words, the smile on your face forming into a concerned look as you gazed upon your lover. 

This was the third meal in a row that he had refused. It wasn’t a matter of that he felt bad for you making him food, no. The two of you have had that discussion long ago. You were afraid this was a far more pressing matter, and you had a good idea of what it was. 

“Love,” you said, your voice lowered to match your concern, “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night… you have to keep up your strength.” 

He stared at you for a long moment before saying anything. 

“I am aware, darling.” 

“Then how about I make you some dinner, okay?” you asked, your tone still soft, “I’ll bring it to your pod like you like it.” 

“No. That is not necessary. I do not wish to consume anything at the moment. I thank you for offering, however, dear.” 

You let out a small sigh. You loved Vader with every atom in your body, but damn was he stubborn. 

“Vee.” you said, your tone now firm, “You’re making me worried.” 

He tilted his armored head to the side, the sound of his respirator in your ears, “How so?” 

“You haven’t been eating much recently, love.” you explained, “And I’ve been noticing how much time you spend outside… Is there something you need to tell me, dear?” 

He simply just stared at you again, taking in the sight of your worried face. 

You didn’t deserve to feel such a way. You didn’t need the added stress of worrying about him. 

He decided it would be best to tell you what was happening. 

He hung his head slightly, “I… I have been troubled, darling.” 

“Troubled?” you asked. 

“Yes.” 

You eyed him for a moment. 

That was all he needed to tell you. 

“Vee, listen to me, okay?” you said, “No one is going to find us here. The only two people in the entire galaxy that know where we are is Luke and Leia, and there’s no way in hell that they would rat us out. There is literally no reason why the Empire or anyone would come here looking for us. This planet is in the middle of nowhere. We will be okay, dear. I promise.” 

He picked up his head to look at you again, making you offer him a small, warm smile in return. 

You were so breathtakingly gorgeous to him. 

Both inside and out. 

He wanted to believe you. He really did. 

And he did trust you. More than anyone he ever had, in fact. 

But, still.. 

This feeling inside him, the fear he felt…

He couldn’t shake it. No matter how hard he tried. 

Your words did soothe his nerves a certain amount, but still…

This issue would need time.

You both knew this, unconsciously. 

He only could pray that you would accept this and stop your worrying. 

He didn’t want you to stress. 

He loved you far too much for that. 

Walking his heavy, large boots over to you, he reached down to your face, giving your cheek a gentle brush with the back of his knuckles. 

Your cheeks stained pink again as he spoke, “I appreciate your concern, dear. I believe I will retire for the night.” 

Your lips parting, you weren’t expecting him to just go to bed so early and leave it at that. You wanted to protest, to get him to talk about it more, but you knew better than to press the subject. 

It took you this long for him to open up to you even a little bit. You didn’t want all your work together to go to waste. 

No. Instead, you gave him a little smile and a nod, “Okay, dear. Goodnight, I love you.” 

“I love you too, (F/N).” 

With that, he left the living room to your shared bedroom, the weight of his steps making the wooden floorboards beneath him creak and moan. You followed him with your gaze as you watched him leave, noticing how his cape fluttered in the wind behind him. 

His cape…

It was quite old now, worn even. The end of it was in tatters, and significantly lighter in hue than the rest of the material. 

It looked… sad. 

Just like he had been, before you and him came to be a thing. 

Your lips parting again, an idea shot through your mind as you processed the sight of his cape. 

An idea to you, but he would call it more of a scheme. 

A determined smile came upon your face. 

You set yourself up for a long, long night, but you didn’t care.

You would do anything, stay up countless nights, if it meant he was at peace and happy. 

Once he disappeared into your shared bedroom, you made for your fabric cabinet, setting your scheme into motion. 

~~~\

The night had been a long one, that was nothing but a fact. 

You had brewed seemingly endless amounts of caf to keep you awake, and your tongue was quite sick of the taste by the time morning had came. You didn’t even realize how long you had worked until you heard the birds chirping outside your window. Looking up from your completed project strewn across your dining table, your felt the bags underneath your eyes as you saw the sunlight creep inside your home as a welcome intruder. 

Shit. It was almost time to wake him up. 

Rising from your chair, you stretched and yawned as you made your way into the kitchen, stopping in front of the counter and pouring yourself another cup of caf. Bringing the mug to the table, you placed the cup upon it's surface before padding your feet across the hallway to your bedroom. Creaking the door open, you slowly tip-toed your way to his meditation pod, pressing your ear against the cool surface of the metal. Gently, you knocked on the metal, your voice matching as you spoke. 

“Vee.” you said, your voice quiet from how tired you were, “It’s time to wake up.” 

After a brief pause of silence, you heard the whirr of the pod placing his helmet and mask upon his head. Stepping back, you watched as the pod hissed open, another yawn escaping your lips. Stepping forward again, you reached into the metal container to your love, helping him out of it as you spoke again. 

“Morning Vee.” you said as his boots made contact with the floor. 

“Good Morning, darling.” he rumbled out, his voice deeper as it shaked off his slumber. 

Smiling tiredly up to him, you asked him your usual morning question, “What do you want for breakfast?” 

Looking down at you, Vader instantly noticed the dark circles under your eyes. A pang of concern shooting through him, he cupped your face in his large, gloved hands. 

“Darling.” he said, “Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am.” you said, “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You look as if you did not get any rest last night. Did something keep you awake?” 

You blinked at him slowly in confusion at first, your tired mind making you slow to process. Blinking again as you remembered what had kept you awake, a small smile painted your lips. 

“Yeah.” you said, “Something did.” 

He was definitely worried now, “What was it?” 

“A surprise!” 

He tilted his head at this. He certainly was not expecting that. 

“A surprise?” 

“Yeah!” you exclaimed, taking one of his hands into your own, “Come see!” 

Pulling him out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen, you stopped him once he was in front of the dining table. Taking a few steps in front of him, you picked up his surprise from the table’s surface, holding it in your tired, groggy grasp as you presented it up to him with a dopey smile on your face. 

He was shocked, but in quite a good way. 

A cape?

“I made you a new cape!” you said proudly, showing him the front and back of the cloth. 

The new cape was a medium-toned blue, large enough to fit across his broad shoulders, and long enough to just barely miss the ground as he stood. At the bottom of the cape was a thick strip of golden cloth, an intricate pattern woven into it, and the stitching was noticeably hand-done. 

It was...

Perfect. 

You smiled down at the fabric as you spoke, “I just thought that giving you a little change would do you some good. I know we just got your new hands to work, and we finally got some privacy here on this planet, so I thought I would also make this as a little celebration gift.” 

You turned your gaze to him as you continued, a smile still on your tired face, “Also, your old one was really raggedy, so I made you this new one. You can tell me if you don’t like it, though. I won’t be offended. I know it’s kinda out of your style…” 

Vader was speechless. 

Vader was hardly ever speechless, but he simply could not comprehend the sight before him. 

This girl, who he loved oh, so dearly with every fiber, every ounce of his being…

Made something so beautiful, so perfect…

For him. 

She stayed up all hours of the night, slaving away at this cape…

For him. 

How.

How did he get so damn lucky? 

How did he deserve any of this? 

This house? This cape? 

You? 

After everything he had done? 

He was sure right then that he was the luckiest man in the galaxy. 

Realizing that he still hadn’t said anything, Vader responded to you. 

“My dear,” he said, his head tilted to the side, “I shall adorn anything you make with pride.” 

Another dopey smile coming onto your exhausted face, a yawn came out of your throat, “Really? You like it?” 

“Yes.” 

You let out a tiny squeal of happiness, “I’m so glad! I’ll iron it after breakfast and help you put it on.” 

Vader watched as you folded up his new cape and set it on the table, right next to the cup of caf you poured earlier. Picking up his gaze, he watched your much smaller frame begin to pad your feet into the kitchen.

“Speaking of breakfast,” you said over your shoulder, opening the cabinets to see what kinds of ingredients you had available, “What would you like?” 

Vader said nothing, not moving one muscle as he stared at you. 

He was… in awe. 

How did you do it? He could visibly see the lack of sleep you had gotten, yet you still pressed on. You asked him what he wished to consume without a second thought, ignoring the fact that you were dead tired. 

You were so beautiful. So strong. 

He couldn’t fathom how he deserved you. How you stayed so strong despite how life had been so cruel to you. 

He couldn’t begin to fathom how the universe could make such a perfect human being. 

You…

You were the only one in so, so long that saw Vader not as a machine nor a weapon…

But a person. A living, breathing, person. 

You did everything for him. You made him happy, you calmed his nerves, you soothed his anger, you listened to his rambles, you made him a house, you helped him to escape the clutches of the Empire....

You saved his life. 

…

He loved you. 

He loved you so, so much. 

He would never be able to find the words to tell you just how much he did. 

“Vee.” he heard you say, snapping him out of his awe-struck state, “You’re staring again. Did you hear me? What would you like for breakfast? I’ll make you anything you want.” 

He didn’t want anything to consume that morning. 

Nothing at all. 

He only wanted you. To be close to you, to hold you tight and never let you go. 

And he planned to do as such. 

Stepping forward across the expanse of food flooring that separated the two of you, Vader watched as a confused expression glinted across your face. You asked him what he was doing, but he gave you no response. Instead, he leaned down closer to your height, wrapping his big, strong arms around your waist. Making sure that you were secure in his grasp, he hoisted you up, slinging you over one of his strong shoulders. 

A deep pink blush spread over your cheeks, “V-Vee, what-” 

Ignoring your confusion once more, Vader carried you back into your shared bedroom, making sure that you were comfortable yet secure in his grasp. Pushing open the door to the bedroom with his boot, Vader carried you over to the bed in the center of the room, making the blush on your cheeks deepen in hue. 

Expecting to get thrown onto the bed’s surface, you were surprised when your love sat upon the bed, his weight making the wood and mattress below groan. Soon after sitting down, Vader moved you so that you were seated in his broad lap, your legs straddling his strong, large waist. Snaking up his arms under your own, Vader pulled you close to his huge chest, getting you as close to him as possible.

Your tired brain making you slower to process what was happening, Vader took it upon himself to help you along, resting his armored chin on your small shoulder. 

“Hold me, darling.” he said, his deep voice much softer than normal. 

Feeling your heart swell in your chest, you slowly wrapped your arms around his armored neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder armor as you held him tightly. 

Vader was much much larger than you, but it made him all the better to cuddle with. His lap was surprisingly soft, despite how muscular he was beneath all the leather, and his grasp around you was so, so soothing. Closing your eyes peacefully, you breathed in his scent as he rubbed one of his hands up and down your back. His gloved hand was quite large, and nearly engulfed your entire lower back. 

He was so gentle with you. It soothed you to no end.

You felt yourself start to drift off to sleep, feeling so safe and secure in his arms. Before you could, however, you heard his deep voice speak to you. Since you were pressed to close to his chest, you could feel the rumble of his voice’s bass from within. 

“I love you endlessly, darling.” he said, his voice still much softer than normal, “Are you aware of this?” 

You were far too tried for words, so you simply nodded your head against his shoulder is response. 

Vader let out a satisfied rumble. He could feel every single one of his nerves and fears melt away as he held you, soothing him to no end. Picking up his head from your shoulder, he pressed the triangle mouthpiece of his mask into your hair, making a small smile appear on your lips. 

His version of a kiss, you took it. 

He rubbed your back with his hand once more, speaking to you again, “Rest easy, darling. I shall continue to hold you until you awaken. Forget about your tasks and rest with me for the day. I shall keep you warm and protect you from all harm, for the rest of time. I love you, (F/N), my darling. You have made my life complete. I wish for nothing more than to be beside you for the rest of my days. You are my entire life, (F/N), my everything. I love you so, so much.” 

A small smile still on your face, you held onto your love tight as you felt yourself drift off into sleep. As he promised, Vader held onto you for as long as you slept, nothing but thoughts of you in his mind. 

It was a beautiful sight, but one that no other man should ever see. A reformed sith lord, holding onto the love of his life on the planet they had escaped to, in the house that she had built, far, far away from any prying eyes, from any harm. 

Your forgotten cup of caf upon the table filled the air with it's scent. 

That day, this house was no longer just a house. 

But a home. 

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur , @finest-trashbag , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii , @elongatedmusk-rat , @shads121 , @muffinbeliever  , @sakuramadae​ , @padme-parker​ , @khapikat222 , @the-official-memester​ , @rens-angel​ , @yvette1703 , @missmannequin​ , @breakfastpizzagalaxy​ , @scarletsinsandsnowwithetragedies​ , @clearnostolgia , @ahs0ka-skywalker​ , @teddyteddy​

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The 14th Department (AFTERL!FE) Meets the Demon Brothers and Undateables (Obey Me!)

Lucifer

Noah heard he has a dog.  He is staying far away from the pretentious eldest. 

Oldest big brother?  You better believe Youssef finds a kindred spirit, even if they differ wildly in personalities.  

Louis lives for the almost regal aesthetic Lucifer has got going on.  Lucifer, in turn, lives for the day Louis will stop talking.

Quincy finds this whole trip preposterous (“What the heck is the Devildom?  What happened to the Underworld?”) and does not like Lucifer’s condescending attitude (it conflicts with his own!).  

Ethan doesn’t like Lucifer—proud and arrogant people with no reason to be so are not to be respected.  Lucifer despises Ethan for the same reason.

Day!  Will!  Not!  Go!  Near!  Lucifer!  He’s so scary!  But Cerberus is his best friend now (Nine-Nine who?).

Nine and Theo together find out that the eldest demon is into classical music and spend hours discussing early compositions with him.

Ell cannot be around this demon!  He is a fallen angel!  He tries to be nice (and because Ell is kind, so is Lucifer, even if the sickly sweetness of the angel drives him up the wall), but every good wish is punctuated with a sneeze.

Lucifer is so overworked, so by way of his calm disposition and love for meditation, Jamie helps him find ways to relax.

The eldest demon’s general demeanor astonishes June.  How manly he is!

Likewise, Sian can’t go near Lucifer without feeling nervous.  The man drips dominating energy!

Verine can’t understand the eldest’s love for classical music.  Rock is infinitely better.

Mammon

Um, Mori and him are best friends.  They together cause trouble in the House of Lamentation and in the 14th Department with their many get-rich-quick schemes.

Gaudy and expensive taste?  Sign Louis up.

Ethan says ‘no’ to the demon’s general pomposity (it reeks of low self-esteem) and by God, doesn’t he own anything that depicts an iota of class?

Mammon is one speedy demon—how can Kirr not appreciate his fleetfootedness when it would bring him so much use whilst hunting?  Apart from that, Kirr has no respect for that reprehensible thief, for the very idea of stealing brings back terrible memories.

Always belittled by their peers, Day and Mammon find a kindred spirit in each other, and Day is always reminded of his past life when he sees all the gold that Mammon professes to possess possesses. 

Kati bit him twelve times because no dumb tsundere was going to steal his (cough Aitachi’s) spot as cutest in the Department!

Licht is eclipsed by Mammon’s demon form because how is he able to pull off wearing so little clothing so well?  He must take notes.  When he learns that Mammon is a model, too, he goes berserk with delight.

Cyrille finds the secondborn exceedingly stupid, although he begrudgingly gives him credit for being pretty decent at math.

Sian spots a fellow tsundere and runs away, because oh my God, it’s so obvious that Mammon likes this MC person!

Leviathan

Games?  Social awkwardness?  Extreme interest in things that no one else seems to care for?  Cyrille has found his soulmate!

Aitachi and Kirr cringe at how Leviathan spends his leisure time, but are intrigued because they have never seen such methods of gaming and media consumption before.

Leviathan is forever at Quincy’s mercy, for the fellow demon has no qualms of absolutely crushing Levi’s already non-existent self-esteem. 

Even though he loathes to admit it, Sian really likes the rhythm games Leviathan plays, and the thousands of idol posters in his room make him strangely nostalgic of his past life.

June wonders how Levi can go so long without feeling the overwhelming need to burst into a sprint now and again.

Theo almost kills the thirdborn because how is his room filled with so many Demonrito and Hell Mountain Dew containers?  What filth!

Speaking of filth, Licht finds some of Levi’s dating sims and oh my darling, some of them are quite … lewd.

Ghilley and Leviathan together construct an elaborate Lego model of a castle from the anime My Sister Is A Fairy Princess, And Her Suitor Is Secretly An Ogre From a Land Far Away And Wants to Eat Us All, And It’s Up to Me to Save My Sister’s Kingdom.

Ethan can’t even walk past Leviathan’s room without a disapproving “tut.”  Has the demon no discipline, despite being rumored to be the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?

Kati spends all day poking at the cute monster and waifu figurines situated in Levi’s bedroom.  He thinks Azuki-tan is cute, but not as cute as him, and anyone who says otherwise will get bitten!

Aitachi likes to rifle through Leviathan’s anime sword replica collection and giggle because in combat, they would be of no more use than a toothpick.

Satan 

Finally!  Someone with sense! thinks Ethan.  Boy, do these two get along, right down to their educated and proper mannerisms to their mutual hatred of Lucifer.

Verine can’t go near Satan without coughing violently because the forthborn always has some manner of cat hair on him, no matter how diligently he preens.

Cats are infinitely better than dogs, so Noah sticks close to Satan.

Cyrille thought he had found a friend in Satan, who always has his nose in a book, but it turns out, Satan is more philosophically-and-intellectually-versed, while Cyrille is more scientific.

Nine likes Satan, for he is as calm as himself.  Strangely enough, they both seem to have hidden wrathful feelings and bond over this.

Kitties! :D is all Day can think when he sees the fourthborn.

Youssef enjoys Satan’s company, too, for they both are anthropological in nature—always watching, but never interfering until there is a need.

Blond and princelike are the two of them, but Louis is sorely disappointed when Satan’s royal appearance is merely a façade of darker emotions to come, where Louis enjoys life in its every aspect.  “How disappointing art thou, Satan!”  Louis throws rose petals in distress.

Kirr and Aitachi try to hunt one of Satan’s cats, thinking it was some kind of Devildom’s finest prey.  Satan does not forgive them for the attempt.

Theo sneezes the moment he enters Satan’s room.  Although everything is in its place and not truly messy by any means, he refuses to let the stacks and stacks of books sit idly by when they are begging to be put in shelves!

Quincy and Satan each add to their respective repertoire of curses in their time together.  It does not bode well for anyone in the House of Lamentation or 14th Department.

Asmodeus

They are … essentially the same person, so you can bet your ass that Licht and Asmo absolutely live for each other’s company.  They literally spend hours modeling clothes together, discussing fashion, gossiping about their romantic exploits, and praising their overall appearance.  

Louis joins in too, although he mostly stays for the latter, and the three vanquish away many nights complimenting their own and the others’ looks.

Sometimes Asmo likes to sew patches and sequins onto his clothes and mend them to his own design, and Aitachi, who likes to sew, learns many different ways of stitching from the fifthborn, although he hates the fact that Asmo, like Licht, never shuts up about what an “adorable and cute warrior” he is!

Asmo has to know Kirr’s hair care routine, which Kirr gives in one, succinct sentence: “I wash it.  Sometimes.”

Nine has to constantly flee Asmodeus’ presence because it is in his nature to compliment the Soul Reaper on how absolutely beautiful he looks.

Kati expects makeovers, all of which should emphasize his cuteness, every other day.

Don’t ask how long Mori spent calculating how much money Asmo spends on beauty products, because he wept at the end of it.

Verine refuses to step a foot into Asmodeus’ room because do you know how much his sinuses are going to bother him when he spends even a second into a room so deeply entrenched in the fragrance of flowers and perfume?

Ghilley is used to a personality so akin to his roommate, Licht, so he has no qualms in dealing with Asmo and quite likes the gossip he is quietly able to distill from the fifthborn.

Beelzebub

Brothers in their flaming orange hair, June gloms onto Beel with astounding loyalty (Theo refuses to admit jealousy, but ...), especially when he hears of his dedication to his twin.

Cyrille has to interrogate Beel on the structural integrity of his wings in his demon form because there is no way that such a flimsy apparatus could lift a demon of Beel’s stature even an inch into the air!  Also, how much does Beel exercise if he expects to gain muscle and burn off the infinite calories that he consumes?  It is a scientific mystery.

Day likes snacks, Beel likes snacks!  Everything is right in the world (even if the demon accidentally mistook Day’s hair for a mint ice cream cone).

Jamie is constantly offering fresh fruits and vegetables to the sixthborn, but even though he eats them willingly, Beel much prefers foods that will actually fill him up for a short amount of time.

Again, Ethan is appalled by the lack of discipline Beelzebub shows.  The demon is simply a slave to his appetite and deserves nothing less than scorn.

Theo cannot decide if he likes or hates the fact that Beel leaves a trail of crumbs wherever he goes.  On one hand, he gets to clean, but on the other hand, it’s so messy ... 

Even though he has many misgivings of fallen angels, even Ell cannot help but like Beel!  As long as he is fed, the demon is very sweet and kind.  

Noah likes Beel, too.  Something about his easygoing and generally cheerful personality pleases him to no end. 

Beel tried to eat Kati’s hair, thinking it was a yummy bun.  Sadly, he got bit more times than Mammon.

Youssef is a good cook and is thereby followed by Beel wherever he goes.  The kind Soul Reaper doesn’t mind, though.

Belphegor

Noah likes how Belphie takes things easily and calmly, although it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to get more exercise.

Belphegor is even more of a conundrum to June than Leviathan was.  He decides that next time he goes to the Devildom, he’s going to bring an extra pair of running shoes because the demon most certainly was wanting of physical exertion! 

Kirr is absolutely astonished at the unguarded and completely lax way Belphie sprawls out in the House of Lamentation, sleeping.  If he was an enemy tribesman, he would have no trouble in taking the demon down as he slept.

“This kind of laziness is not fit for a warrior at all!” cries Aitachi any time he seems Belphie dozing off.

Jamie likes Belphegor’s way of thinking.  Sometimes, sitting under an apple tree in the sweltering summer heat after a hard day of work just causes one to be overcome with the desire to take a nap. 

Youssef tries to brew Belphie a cup of espresso, but the caffeine just doesn’t seem to have an effect on the Avatar of Sloth. 

Although he is slightly disheartened by the fact that his quiet footsteps seem to have no effect on the seventhborn, as he is always asleep, Ghilley revels in the prospect of drawing unsavory graffiti on the demon’s face when he slumbers.

Day sometimes tries to rouse Belphie, and Belphie, in turn, tries to kill Day.

Like his observations on his twin, Cyrille cannot fathom how the demon could sleep so much.  How could one body need so much rest?

Simeon

Ell loves him.  How can he not?  He is the perfect angel!  He is also very curious as to how the Celestial Realm of Obey Me!’s world works compared to the one in AFTERL!FE.

His whole aesthetic mesmerizes Louis.  There’s something so tranquil but regal about it.  

Licht wants to know where he can get an exact copy of Simeon’s outfit because darling, it's gorgeous.

Youssef probably spends more time around Simeon than he should, but his calm demeanor is so refreshing compared to the chaos in the 14th Department and the House of Lamentation. 

Kirr and Aitachi together lament with Simeon on the struggles of working with technology.  Why is it so difficult?

Something about the angel’s holy air makes Mori very much not inclined to ask him how much the gold clasp on his cape is worth.

Quincy hates the “pretentious” and “stuck up” angel and bickers with him almost as much as he bickers with Ell.  Simeon never responds to his goading, although ... he does get a bit prickly when Quincy criticizes Luke or the Celestial Realm too harshly.

Encouraged by the prospect that he can actually breathe in the (fresh-smelling) presence of Simeon, Verine enjoys his company, but is perpetually annoyed by the fact that the angel seems to pity him for his condition.

Ethan can’t hate Simeon, either.  He is the sole honorable character he can find in the entire Devildom, even though he has to admit that it seems that the angel is hiding something.

Day really likes Simeon!  He’s so nice and is always ready to play with him.

As a man of science, Cyrille scoffs at Simeon (and Luke’s) unfaltering belief in religion. 

Luke

Kati bites him on sight.  Luke just seems irritating and how dare he think himself cuter than him!

Aitachi sympathizes with Luke, for they both lament on not being taken seriously because of their age.  

Luke reminds him a bit too much of a chihuahua for Noah to be too fond of him, but the little angel means well, so Noah suffers his incessant barking out of (Kind)ness.

Day is a human puppy ... and Luke is an angel chihuahua.  They get along great, although Luke makes it his most important goal to Christianize Day, who seems to believe in other things!

Quincy wonders when Luke will stop talking and is constantly entertaining thoughts of hastening the day when he will.  Likewise, Luke wishes the “horrible demon” would go away forever.

As a fellow angel, Ell finds Luke to be great fun.  It’s strange though, Luke seems to always be expressing the opposite of what he’s feeling in typical tsundere fashion, but he never sneezes.

Sian finds Luke to be of the utmost annoyance.  He’s so short (heh) and yappy and annoying!  

Kirr wonders if the little angel will make a good hunting dog, but after he realizes that Luke has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth closed, he thinks  better of it.

His dealings with Day cause Nine to be an excellent caretaker of Luke when Simeon is away.  You just have to deal with exuberant personalities like his carefully, is all.

Ghilley and Licht give Luke “five stars” in terms of cuteness.  The young angel does not approve!

Theo stays far away from Luke.  Children are walking crumb-and-stain-factories and he is not going to get dirty.

Solomon

Quincy and Solomon exchange many spell incantations and curses and keep the rest of the Soul Reapers, angels, and demons in an uproar with their constant shenanigans. 

When he notices that Solomon has many fortune-telling artifacts in his room, Kati rifles through them all (without permission), much to the sorcerer’s amusement, especially when Kati discovers many supposedly unpleasant things about his future.

Although Quincy and Solomon are the true troublemaking duo in terms of pranks (Satan helps, sometimes), Day and Solomon are almost equal in measure, although much of Day’s rogurey is an accident, and he never means to cause any harm!

Licht is instantly enamored by Solomon’s cape—what style!  You can see the entire Milky Way embroidered on it (Cyrille instantly assures him that that is not actually the case)!

Ghilley can’t help but wonder why anyone thinks Solomon is shady.  He seems to be a pretty upstanding, if chaotic, guy?

Youssef admires the humanity of Solomon.  In a land of angels and demons and even Soul Reapers, it’s good to have someone so normal.

Unlike Ghilley, Ethan definitely notices that something shady is afoot when Solomon is around.  Because of this, he tails the sorcerer wherever he goes, for he’d rather not a ruckus be caused.

Sian has many questions for Solomon on the status of idols in the Human World since he left it.  What are the newest trends?  The most popular groups?  The most admired dance moves?  He wants to know it all.

Barbatos

Cyrille finds the whole time-travel aspect of Barbatos’ powers intriguing and derails the butler from his duties for hours in attempts to understand the nuances of this overpowering concept.

Ethan privately thinks that he looked much better in a butler suit than the demon.  What is even going on with the front of his outfit?  A diligent and uncomplaining demon is Barbatos, and Ethan has to respect him for that, even if he is a position so beneath his own.

He’s so scary! D: thinks Day, even though Barbatos is nothing but kind to him.

Kirr likes the fine fare that Barbatos cooks, although he laments not being able to win “the mind game” against the butler, who he spends many hours staring coolly at.

Theo and Barbatos spend many an evening chatting about the best way to maintain the most perfect state of cleanliness.

The strong smell of detergent follows Barbatos sometimes, and Verine can never bring himself too close to the demon.  However, he has to begrudgingly admit that if it weren’t for the overwhelming stench of chemicals, he would be breathing in a suffocating cloud of dust particles, so he has to thank the butler for that.

Jamie gives Barbatos many good recipes for fruit pies and Youssef can’t wait to try all the (possibly) delicious recipes that Barbatos recites to him.  

Ghilley, unfortunately, finds it very difficult to sneak up on the butler, for Barbatos has seen all Ghilley’s attempts to scare him in all the timelines he has observed. 

Diavolo

This bumbling idiot is the ruler of the Devildom? thinks Ethan with great distaste.  However dignified Diavolo might be, Ethan cannot see past the blindingly cheerful mask he puts on and finds it most undignified.

A fellow royal!  How is Louis supposed to resist striking a long-winded conversation?  Diavolo entertains Louis’ pompous and overbearing self and they find each other most delightful.

Licht positively drools over Diavolo’s demon form outfit.  Just how he is pulling off that much style?

Quincy finds much enjoyment in disrespecting the Prince of the Devildom to no end and is always disappointed when Diavolo responds to his insults with a tolerating smile.

The Prince of Demons and the son of the Demon Lord are titles that are essentially the bane of Ell’s existence, but he manages to be most respectful toward him, even though he is shaking in his shoes and wondering when all their interactions will come to and end.

Day lived like a king in his past life and is not even remotely fazed by the enormous amount of finery found in the Demon Lord’s Castle.  He is, however, enamored with the Little D’s, who, when not insulting him, are great fun!

Diavolo’s lifestyle of luxury is basically Mori’s dream, so he takes every opportunity to make notes of the expensive furniture and ancient pieces.

Noah and Youssef like how down-to-Earth Diavolo is, despite his high position.  They feel as if he has something to hide, but for the most part, he is a jolly fellow and they enjoy his company.

[ootori-sibs]

The Ootori princess

Chapter 7: That dream

Kyoya was very pleased that his friends liked his new room, and he had been happy to show them around the rest of the garden. After they'd seen everything Kyoya was aware of, they sat in the garden, drinking lemonade and eating sugar cookies. It was different from how they usually hung out, there wasn't any purpose to this, they had no goal in mind. They were relaxed… it was new to Kyoya to be so calm and still with the hosts, with his friends.

It was Kyoya's first time in the back garden, and it was very pretty; there were a couple of big flower patches, some lovely looking fruit trees, and a little vegetable patch tucked away in the corner. The thing that surprised Kyoya, however, was the chickens, Yuuichi hadn't told him there were chickens. This was amazing, he had a hen on his lap at that moment, he wasn't petting it but he wished to know its name. The other hosts definitely enjoyed the presence of the chickens as well, playing with them happily. Kyoya liked the garden, it was very nice. There was a lot of sun- the mansion was angled in such a way to catch the sun.

It wasn't Kyoya's fault, he closed his eyes for just a second. He hadn't expected to find himself in a flowerfield, with chickens running about among the undergrowth. It was a lovely scene, with the sun shining brightly down on him, not burning but simply warming him. Kyoya felt so incredibly free; the flowers and grass brushing against his bare skin felt great, he almost wanted to twirl- and there was no one around to see him, so he did.

He rushed around amongst the flowers, the chickens quick on his heels. It felt amazing, everything felt so amazing. It was almost like the welling in his chest when someone told him they were proud of him, but so much better. There wasn't even any lense flare in his glasses for once- which was an incredibly rare occurrence for Kyoya. He simply ran and ran and ran- never seeming to get tired for some unknown reason.

Until he did see a lense flare.

It didn't come from his glasses, no, it came from something in the distance. So Kyoya ran towards it naturally, the chickens began to make louder and louder squawks, clearly just as excited as Kyoya- although for what he could not say.

He finally reached the object that had been calling to him, it was a large, floor length mirror, somehow suspended in midair. It was gold and extremely intricate- though that wasn't what made Kyoya stop in her tracks.

She was wearing a sundress, a lovely white one with a gold belt of a soft and shiny fabric, her hair was so long it reached her shoulders, held out of her eyes with an alice band. The dress was short and flowing, rippling in a breeze that was evidently there now. The girls nails were painted white, they matched her dress nicely, as well as the little white dolly shoes. There was something about the girls face; her lips were a light violet colour and her eyelashes so pleasantly done, her eyebrows were smaller and perfectly neat, she was positively glowing.

There was something in her eyes too, something that Kyoya never had- Kyoya couldn't tell you what it was, in her eyes, but the girl seemed to know- Kyoya wanted to ask her. She was so radiant, so beautiful. She was the kind of girl everyone would fall in love with, she was the kind of girl people would want to be around, she was everything Kyoya failed to be.

...and he loved her.

Kyoya must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up, the sun was in a different position and the hosts were all happily talking to Yuuichi. Wow, he must have been asleep for a long time if Yuuichi was home already. Yuuichi seemed to notice Kyoya was awake and smiled, "did you just leave your poor friends to entertain themselves while you took a nap? Honestly Kyoya, I can't leave you alone for five minutes can I?" He was clearly joking, hands on his hips and he was smiling, but Kyoya felt a jolt of panic hit him as he realised he had done just that.

He sat up straight, scaring away the poor hen that had been resting on his lap, adjusting his glasses, he hung his head in shame, "ah, my apologies. In my defense, someone should have woken me."

"Senpai are you mad?" Hikaru blurted out, looking at him in kind of annoyed shock, "have you seen what you're like when you've just woken up?? We'd rather not die thank you very much."

Kyoya supposed he had to concede that Hikaru had a point, he wasn't the best person when he just woke up. Yuuichi went back inside- presumably to make dinner, whilst everyone else resumed whatever they had been up to. Kyoya didn't get any time to process anything that was happening when Tamaki sat opposite him at the table, smiling, "so what was your dream about?"

Kyoya's dream? Well- oh… what was that about?? Kyoya barely remembered anything from his dream, only… that girl. Kyoya had a sinking feeling he knew what that dream had been about. "I, uh, well I don't really remember," he lied to Tamaki, hoping the king would drop it.

“Aw, shame,” he smiled, taking a sip of lemonade through the straw, “dreams are very important, my mother used to say that they could show a window into the soul!” He beamed, unaware of how his words made Kyoya’s skin crawl… surely it’s just more of Tamaki’s nonsense, the dream was senseless imagery- nothing to dwell on… right?

He just nodded, “a real shame.” He and the hosts headed inside, finding their way to the living room. Yuuichi was letting them play his video games, so they all positioned themselves around the sofa as Tamaki and the twins grabbed the only three controllers. They were just playing some dumb racing game, Kyoya wasn’t really paying attention but it was fun to see the boys get so competitive. He just leant back and relaxed with his drink, picking the feathers from his trousers as he was watching them play.

But he couldn’t relax, he couldn’t stop thinking about his dream. He could only remember one thing; his reflection, that damned girl. Tamaki had said dreams were important but Kyoya didn’t really want it to be. He’d had the nagging feeling that something was wrong for a while now, he realised, it had only been amplified by Haruhi coming out. Kyoya remembered all the times he had worn a dress for a club theme, all of two times; the first had been when they dressed in drag for Tamaki’s dumb scheme to keep Haruhi, then the second time was when he dressed as the black queen for the wonderland theme- he remembered Tamaki helping him with the corset, he remembered the feeling of the skirt before the frame was put in- it was wonderful. Kyoya hated to think about how he’d looked in the mirror, with his hair extensions and his wonderful makeup, he had adored the way he’d looked, it had made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He had tried on the dress yesterday- the green one. It had made him feel the same way; that warm and almost glowing feeling- it had terrified him to his core.

He was half tempted to ask Haruhi to explain the gender thing again, but he knew that it wouldn’t help- it would just panic him further. Kyoya knew what the issue was, he’d known it for a while he thought- every time he wore something even remotely feminine, the way how heart swelled and he felt a strange sense of belonging; like everything about him was screaming out that yes, this was him, this was who he was supposed to be. Kyoya was terrified of what he wanted to be.

After a while, Kyoya got to relax a little, as Maddie had come to inform the hosts that dinner was ready. So they made their way to the dining room, where Yuuichi had made a large hotpot containing all the best foods. The hosts were very excited by this, sitting down and happily chattering amongst themselves, Yuuichi joined the talking, happily telling them how his work had been doing. Kyoya was quiet as his friends and his brother talked, he just quietly ate his food. The lovely sound of his friends enjoying themselves did serve to make Kyoya feel a lot better, so he shook the thoughts from his mind and let himself enjoy the time he got to spend with his friends.

The food was great, Kyoya always found food a good distraction from troublesome thoughts. He glanced up from his food to see Yuuichi and Tamaki getting along, oh that was good, Kyoya did feel glad that his big brother enjoyed the company of his crush- always a good sign. Tamaki was telling Yuuichi about some of the themes the club had done, Kyoya was utterly surprised by how approving Yuuichi was of most themes- only showing concern when Tamaki mentions the costumes that had the hosts shirtless, making sure they were all happy with it. Kyoya did think about that… he wasn’t sure if he liked being shirtless, he especially didn’t enjoy getting oggled over by the girls. He definitely preferred the themes that allowed him to wear shirts and- oh no, Tamaki had brought up the wonderland theme, and by extension; the dress Kyoya had worn.

Yuuichi had paused when Tamaki mentioned the dress, and the hair extensions, and the makeup. He’d looked at Kyoya with a strange look in his eyes, one that made Kyoya very anxious before turning back to smile at Tamaki, chuckling, “ah, I’m sure that was fun…” the way Yuuichi trailed off made Kyoya highly uncomfortable, he glanced away as the conversation continued. Kyoya felt like there was someone terribly wrong with him, and he couldn't help but feel as if Yuuichi knew.

After dinner, they had some lovely sponge cake, one that Yuuichi had made just that morning. It was nice, sitting there as his friends talked, it almost made him forget the horrible nagging feeling in his gut. Almost. Nevertheless, the company of his friends was comforting, letting Kyoya let his guard down even further. After that, Yuuichi bid them farewell, as he had work to do and retired to his office. The hosts made their way up back to Kyoya's room, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Kyoya breathed a sigh, shaking any dregs of worry from his mind, the hosts made everything better.

As they walked, Kyoya found himself beside Tamaki, the king smiling happily at him when he looked over. "This is a really nice place Kyoya! Are you having fun here?" Kyoya just nodded in response, looking around the corridor, Tamaki paused at his response, "well you seemed to have something on your mind recently, what's up, mon ami?"

Kyoya paused, not realising his crisis was so plain to see. He definitely didn't want to share his fears, he couldn't imagine how Tamaki might laugh- he hadn't laughed at Haruhi, but that's different… besides, it wasn't like Kyoya was experiencing the same thing he was, it was just a stupid thought. He sighed, shaking his head, "it's nothing Tamaki, don't worry."

"Are you sure..?"

He glanced away, damn Tamaki for being so caring, "stop it Tamaki, I'm fine, everything's fine." Tamaki clearly didn't believe him, but sighed, nodding slowly and walking in silence.

They sat around the room, both Tamaki and Kyoya sat on the bed, Tamaki was hugging the curtains as the twins talked about some sort of nonsense. They'd started on school gossip he thought, oh goodie, Kyoya was excellent at this. He pulled out the drive of information on his phone, joining the conversation quite happily. Finding some very interesting rumours about their clients as he did so.

It was so nice, just to let his guard down around his dear friends. Kyoya knew that a mere two years ago and he wouldn't dare even smile so genuinely, now he was open enough to chuckle. He loved them so dearly, he'd trust them with anything… wouldn't he? The doubt hit him like a little tap on his shoulder, creeping up into his spine as he shivered. No one noticed so he breathed a sigh of relief, laying back on the bed.

Madeline brought them some hot chocolate later on in the evening, it had cream and marshmallows, though Kyoya's had dark chocolate chunks, so he was happy. It was really good hot chocolate too, it instilled Kyoya with a sense of something unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Honey spoke up, smiling, "this is really good! Almost as good as how my maids make it!"

"You guys don't even make your own hot chocolate?" Haruhi was once again surprised by rich people things, bless his soul.

"Of course not, that's what maids are for," was Hikaru's rebuttal, rolling his eyes at the poor commoner.

Haruhi had mumbled something about rich people being morons but Kyoya didn't pay much mind to it, just staring up at the canopy over his bed, there were little silver stars embroidered on it, just over the canopy and not the curtains. He thought it looked really good, Kyoya wasn't one for novel things like that, he hated feeling like a wasteful child, but this was a really nice touch and Kyoya actually found it had helped him sleep the last two nights.

"They're very pretty," Tamaki seemed to read his mind, laying next to him. Kyoya felt his face heat up slightly as he glanced over at Tamaki; the boy was beautiful, he had perfect bone structure, a symmetrical face, large, bright eyes, he definitely used lipgloss- no one's lips are that soft and shiny naturally. Kyoya wondered if he should start wearing lipgloss, but that thought could wait. "Hm?"

"The stars," Tamaki clarified, he must think Kyoya hadn't understood, "they're very nice, who did them?"

"I'm not sure, one of the maids I assume?"

He nodded, "that makes sense, do you like them?"

"I do."

"Good," Tamaki smiled, he had such a lovely smile, "they remind me of you, in a way?"

Huh, that didn't make any sense, "how?"

Tamaki sighed lightly, glancing at Kyoya before returning his gaze to the stars, Kyoya did the same, "well they're not exactly golden, and a lot of people would prefer gold- those people are shallow. Silver is just as good as gold and is honestly a lot more versatile. Stars are underrated too, but in a different way; they can only be seen as little specks, pretty little fairy lights of the sky, but if you were to look closer you'd see how bright and unique and powerful they are. Stars aren't actually shaped like that either, those shapes are man made and man formed, I don't understand why they came up with that shape and I don't pretend to understand it, but I still think it's wonderful in every way." Tamaki was staring at him again, Kyoya noticed, there was something in the boy's eyes that resembled stars themselves- or at least what stars were seen to be. "I just think they're really cool, and they fit your room."

Kyoya had listened to the entire thing, taken aback by this, it sounded almost like something he would say to charm a guest, but this was different, something about this felt separate, more intimate- and Kyoya couldn't help but blush. He let out a breath, not sure what to say, or if he should even speak.

"What are you two talking about back there?" A voice, Kaoru's voice, called back from the sofa. Both boys sat up, Kyoya taking a few breaths to compose himself as Tamaki rolled his eyes.

"We were talking about how nice the bed is, why?"

The twins shared a knowing look, smiling mischievously, Kyoya knew they thought they knew something. He hoped they were right. As the others were distracted by Haruhi telling them stories about commoner things, Kyoya felt himself sink into the circle, the sense of safety and comradery comforting him. The crisis could be ignored for now, as long as he had his friends.