Over and Over, Again and Again: KyoHaru (commission)

The absolutely lovely @ouranbound commissioned me for her birthday. This was so much fun and I just melt every time I read it 🥺 thank you so much sweetheart, I hope your day is magical!!

Info on commissions here (updated!)

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Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

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Kyoya Ootori x Haruhi Fujioka

Genre: Fluff

Contains: first I Love Yous, established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, but no drinking

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Kyoya did not like being outside. It was often hot and sticky, the sun too bright and burning his skin, or too cold and blustery, the wind too harsh for his delicate constitution. Even refraining from walking to work, using his own driver to commute the blocks. It was silly, yes, and quite wasteful, but he had the money, and all that money allowed him to demand comfort. He never could understand why the others seemed to strain at their leashes to go outdoors--Mori and Hikaru organizing hikes and fishing trips, Tamaki and Kaoru scampering after them. He couldn’t find pleasure in swatting at the sweat running down his back, or cleaning his glasses every few minutes. The outdoors were quite insufferable.

But Haruhi liked the outdoors, and he liked Haruhi.

He supposed it was because of their different upbringings. While he had all the luxury of indoor pools and air conditioning, she didn’t. The outdoors were free; a simple space where commoners could exist without the expectation of spending money. Unlike any mall or restaurant, beneath the sun, the air cost nothing.

So he put up with it whenever she requested it. Her cool touch was more enticing than air conditioning, anyways.

He began to regret it, though, when their wine was no longer chilled. They had arranged a lovely picnic, lounging in a field his father owned. There were plans to develop it, one day, but for now it remained wild. A place where lovers could stow away amid the tall grass waving in the wind.

They sat in the shade of a lemon tree. Remains of rei-shabu and morokyu were stowed away in their picnic satchel, next to the ice pack. Their glasses were still filled with strawberry wine, though their minds and stomachs were too content to have more.

Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

It would have been lovelier in late May or early June, but he had been so busy with the end of the fiscal year. He was afraid of Haruhi’s impending disillusionment, with their relationship still so new, but if she was ever discontent, he knew she would tell him. Dating him had not turned her into a placated doll, as he had feared. He still took care of her, showering her in wealth whenever she asked, but it was rare; mostly, she just wanted to spend time with him, and he just wanted to take care of her, making sure her stomach was full and loans paid.

Not to say he didn’t spoil her, though. He had bought the very dress she was wearing, a strappy yellow thing with magenta stitching. And the gold earrings, shaped like roses on dangling stems, which laid so artfully on the backdrop of her velvet brown hair splayed against his thigh. Her hair was long enough to begin curling slightly at the ends, whenever it wasn’t done up in her tight law school bun.

It was rare he saw her like this, heart unbound and carefree. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips as he ran them against her cheek, half dreaming, half admiring. She slept in his lap, tuckered out from their afternoon. Lips red from wine pulled back slightly, a whimper on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, he feared had awoken her, hand frozen on her jaw, but she turned her neck back into his leg and resumed her breathing.

He sighed in relief. He had already ruined much in his life. The peaceful portrait beneath him was too pure to interrupt.

Once she was back asleep, he gave one last glance to her blushed cheeks and held up his book. It was old, a brown cover etched with gold, antique and clearly made for a bygone era, tattered pages though born on a press just a few years ago. Kyoya felt like that sometimes. An anachronism of his own kind. Set in one spot and lost to the pages of history.

But not here. A butterfly landed on Haruhi’s nose. Instead of swatting it, he watched, breathed in the life bellowing into his bones. In the world, at work, with his family, his soul felt ancient; his shoulders shook with the weight of an old-world empire. But with her, he was fresh, bathing in the fountain of youth. He was no longer an Atlas, cursed with the weight of the world; he was Dionysus with Ariadne--his shining jewel in the sky.

The love he had for her transcended space and time, yet she was blissfully unaware.

Tamaki’s advice echoed in his ears. He had to tell her eventually, else he’d lose her. Trained in all things etiquette, he still stumbled over even the most human of phrases.

Kyoya shook his head. The day he listened to Tamaki’s advice would be the day he’d resign from the Ootori group. As he returned to his book, his focus shifted. Some old French thing on culture, it mocked his feelings with dry phrases and tiny text. Tamaki had taught him enough French to get by, but reading it was another matter. It was to better himself and improve his chances with foreign business relations, was what he told himself, at least.

Haruhi’s ease and fascination with the language certainly had nothing to do with it. Nor did the jealousy in his palms when he would watch the two he loved most converse and giggle without him.

Some time after he resumed scanning it, regretting how he left his translation dictionary at home, Haruhi awoke. Not with a sigh or startle, as he was accustomed, but silently, with a breath, as if he were the bridge in which she crossed from one world into the next.

She laid still and watched him read, brilliant mind sweeping over each and every word. From the angle of his head tilt, she could see his eyes behind his glasses, a sharp, rare, deep black. Nondescript, and beautiful, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen--above Tamaki’s lavender, Mori’s silver, the twins’ bronze and amber. She loved them because within their deep pools of tar, she saw her future.

Haruhi didn’t know for how long she looked at him. She had just started to fall back asleep when he spoke.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he murmured, not even taking his sight from the page.

She stayed focused on the smooth, pale skin of his jaw. It clenched and unclenched periodically, whenever he came across a phrase or word he didn’t know. She could have offered her help, but his lap was just too comfortable.

“I like the view,” she shrugged.

When he set the book down, eyes widened, she already knew what he was about to say.

“Out of all the sights, of the trees, flowers, and fields surrounding us, you think me more admirable?”

She was the lawyer--she was the one used to provoking confessions from people--but his cunning as a businessman made the words drip from his lips like honey, accentuating even as he dipped his head down to hers. Haruhi scrambled to shift her weight to her arm, propping herself up to meet his lips. And yet he hovered, smirking as he watched her mouth chase his, quieting her displeased whines with a chuckle.

“What, no answer?”

He was the devil in disguise, with a voice so silver and smooth, and she knew it. But if he were the devil, she was his Persephone--his lips were her pomegranate, and she bit.

She mustered her frustration into finally catching him in a kiss, swatting at his chest when she tasted his beleaguered smirk.

“You know my answer,” she retorted. “I choose you every day, over and over again.”

“I know,” my darling.” He removed his glasses, the only barrier between them, and pressed his forehead to hers. “And for that, I love you.”

He said it. It wasn’t how he planned on saying it, but it was there, suspended in the air by wires thin as twine. Her hand stilled in his hair, but she didn’t remove it.

“That’s the first time you’ve said it,” she breathed, an elation and joy she didn’t know she missed bubbling in her chest.

Kyoya opened his eyes. They had clenched shut on instinct, as protection, so he wouldn’t have to see the way she rejected him. But her calm voice coaxed them back open, and they settled on her lazy smile.

“It is,” he affirmed. “I thought...I thought you knew. It’s been so long.”

They had been dating for three months, yet known each other for nine years, and Kyoya had loved her for most of that. She had loved him for only half that, that she knew, but their affection was ancient, the kind read about in archaic stone tablets. The kind that would wait forever and ever to be discovered again and again.

“I do,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

And just when he thought his back would break from carrying the world, she kissed away his pain into an immortal love.

-

Happiness is Everything (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This wasn’t requested; I needed to give my boy some love, and a strong bond with Hvitserk. It’s nothing but a silly comfort fic.

@geekandbooknerd​ - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖

@zuxiezendler​ - Thank you 😉🌸 (and you know why)

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar doesn't want any more set-ups. Hvitserk’s stubborn girlfriend disagrees.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst due to Ivar’s temper and insecurities; an obvious lack of plot; lack of creativity; fluff+++.

Words: 2575

Stifling a hiss of pain, Ivar flops down on the couch, leaning his crutch against its armrest. 

 "Here." Hvitserk joins him, handing him a beer before gulping a long sip of his. "So, brother," Hvitserk's face is slightly crumpled as he looks at him, "There's a last-minute change." 

 With a tight-lipped expression on his face, Ivar frowns. He hates last-minute changes with a passion. "What are you talking about, Hvitserk?" He asks curtly while massaging his right thigh absently. 

 "Thora will be with us tonight." Hvitserk shrugs, his discomfort obvious. 

 "Okay." Ivar tilts his head, confused. Every Thursday night, he and his brother spend the night together. Usually at Hvitserk’s place, eating frozen pizzas – a lot of them, Hvitserk being Hvitserk. Most of the time, Thora, who enjoys spending time with her friends, leaves them alone. Sometimes she stays home though, and honestly, it's fine. The truth is, he likes Thora. She's smart and funny, and uncomplicated. Sure, he didn't warm to her right away. It took time. But now, it's okay. He probably won't say it out loud, but yeah, he likes her.

 "So…" Raising a brow, Ivar takes a sip of his beer, "It's no big deal." As Hvitserk keeps silent, Ivar scrutinizes him. His brother is clearly nervous and not at ease at all. Ivar slowly licks his lips. "What are you not telling me, brother?" He knows he's right when Hvitserk lowers his gaze.

 "Well…" Hvitserk clears his throat, "She won't be alone."

A wide-eyed look on his face, Ivar snarls, pursing his lips. "What does that mean, Hvitserk?" The icy cold tone of his voice matches his hard stare, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists. 

 Hvitserk winces, "You know what it means, brother," before taking a seat in the armchair across from Ivar, the small coffee table between them suddenly highly appreciated. One can never be too careful when facing Ivar's anger. 

 "Are you fucking kidding me?" Clenching his jaw, Ivar bangs his fist on the table, and Hvitserk immediately leans forward, catching his brother's beer just before it falls down. 

 "I'm not, Ivar. Listen, I'm sorry but Tho–"

 Ivar cuts him off, running nervously his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it! Remember the fiasco with Thora's cousin? And then with her colleague? What was her name? Livia? Lisa? See, she didn’t even stay long enough for me to remember. Anyway, I thought I was pretty clear after that, wasn't I? Maybe you and your girlfriend should go and check your hearing, what do you think, hm, brother?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, Ivar gives Hvitserk dagger eyes, his pointer finger tapping the side of his head. "No more set-ups. That's what I said, right? Sounds pretty clear, huh? Do I need to tell it again, brother? Look at my mouth, I wouldn't want you to miss it this time,” He points to his lips then in a sarcastic manner, “No. More. Set-ups. No. More. Blind. Dates." Bottom lip quivering, Ivar, who's boiling mad, struggles to hold back his anger.

 "I know, brother…" Hvitserk swallows, rubbing his hand over his face, "but you know Thora means well, don't you? I briefly met Y/N once and honestly, she seemed nice enough. Plus, Thora's not really setting you up. We'll be together, the four of us, here, just eating pizza, it hardly counts as a date, don't you think?"

 Disgruntled, Ivar heaves an exasperated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Stop playing dumb, Hvit, and don't tell me you've never heard of double dates!" He stares at his brother, his pupils dilated, shading his eyes darker blue. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." As he reaches for his crutch, a scowl on his face, Hvitserk stands up, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

 "Isn't that obvious?" Ivar mocks him while adjusting his legs in front of him. "I'm leaving!" Shifting his butt forward, he laces his left arm through the metal loop of his crutch, places his right hand on the coffee table, and then slowly hauls himself to his feet, grunting and swearing under his breath. He has a false start, where it seems he's going to fall right back onto the couch, but Hvitserk catches him skilfully, gripping his upper right arm. As soon as he's sure his baby brother has found his balance, Hvitserk releases his arm and Ivar gives him a tight, thank-you smile. 

 Hvitserk barely nods, as if nothing happened. And gosh, Ivar may be mad at him about this stupid set-up-non-set-up thing, but right now he's feeling mostly grateful. His brother not making a big deal out of his struggles never fails to amaze him.

With any other of his brothers, it wouldn't have been the same. 

Bjorn would have looked at him as if he were an utter failure, and then maybe helped him – out of pity, Ivar is sure of that – but not without paternally patting him on the shoulder; or even worse, on the head. The thought makes him cringe and he shakes his head, chasing it away. Bjorn is no longer around anyway, busy traveling around the world with his fourth wife. Or maybe it's the fifth? Ivar lost count a long time ago. 

 Sigurd would have kicked his crutch out from under him while Ubbe would have forced him to sit down, hovering beside him for far too long, afraid he would slip or stumble, or break a bone. Between Ubbe and Sigurd, between plague and cholera, Ivar is honestly not sure which one is better. Or worse. After all, it's all a matter of perspective. 

 Fortunately, Hvitserk – his favourite brother, and it is no coincidence – never treats him differently; never belittles him; never mothers nor smothers him. With him, Ivar feels like he's normal.

 Gratefulness flooding his mind, a pang of guilt suddenly hits him. He knows that if he leaves, he will put his brother in a difficult position. Though his resolve remains unshaken, Ivar puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, and when he speaks again, it's in a softer voice. "Listen, brother, just tell them I cancelled because I wasn't feeling well, okay?"

 Technically speaking, it's not even a lie. Today has been what his beloved mother would have called a 'bad leg day'. The pain coursing through his lower limbs worse and the muscles stiffer than usual, his right leg barely moving due to its swollen joints, he had taken a double dose of painkillers earlier, regrettably with little to no effect.

 "Well, brother," Looking out of the window, Hvitserk grimaces, an uneasy grin on the corner of his lips, "I'm afraid it's too late." 

 As if on cue, the door busts open and a girly chuckle can be heard. Ivar clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the handle of his crutch. As you and Thora take off your coats and shoes in the doorway, Hvitserk mutters, his mouth on his brother's ear, "Behave Ivar, please. For my sake." 

 Ivar snorts, exhaling deeply. "I'll try." He closes his eyes and, shaking his head, he mumbles, fighting a lump in his throat. "It's… It's not that easy. Fuck Hvitserk, you don't even know…I wish I wasn’t so angry all the time. I… I might have been happy." His voice, barely a whisper at this point, cracks at the end, and he hates himself for that.  

 Astounded, Hvitserk isn't even sure he heard right. There's no time left to ask Ivar to repeat himself though, so he somewhat haphazardly decides to comfort him, nevertheless. "You'll get there, brother." He eventually breathes, still stunned by his brother's unexpected admission.

  "We're coming!!" Unaware of the tension in the room, Thora shouts enthusiastically before crossing it in two long strides. All smiles, she joins the brothers, winking at her lover and squeezing his hand, and gives Ivar a peck on the cheek followed by a wholehearted hug. She then steps away, gesturing toward you as Hvitserk wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Ivar, this is Y/N."

 Reluctantly, Ivar looks in your direction and the moment he sets his eyes on you, his breath catches in his throat and he knows he's screwed. Already smitten. Gods, you're glowing and insanely beautiful. He barely hears Thora's next words. "And Y/N, this is Ivar, Hvitserk's little brother."

 A beaming smile on your face, you wave at him before taking two shy steps forward. "Hello, Ivar." Even your voice is wonderful, sweet, and silky, and he can't help but smile back at you, annoyed with himself for being so weak. 

 Even if he can see the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him, even if your smile is devastating, he knows better. 

 It won't last. It can't.

 For now, standing tall in his brother's living room, he's aware you surely find him attractive. With no false modesty, Ivar knows about his good looks, his huge blue eyes his greatest asset. Of course, you must have noticed the crutch, but the crutch per se is barely a turn-off. You can't see his titanium leg braces, which he stubbornly wears under his pants, even if they often bruise the thin and delicate skin of his calves. You can't see his crippling pain, his struggles. You can't see his distorted bones and his hideous legs. You can't see how disabled, how crippled he really is. But he knows that as soon as he takes a step, you'll get a small glimpse, and then the sparkle will leave your eyes, replaced at best by polite indifference, at worst by pity and disgust. 

 Yet, there's nowhere to hide from the inevitable. So, he decisively closes the gap between you and him, leaning heavily on his crutch, dragging his useless right leg behind him, and eventually standing right in front of you, he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze never leaves your face, Ivar awaiting for you to avert your eyes, but you surprisingly don't. And as you reach out and offer him a firm handshake, your smile never falters, the sparkle still dancing in your eyes. 

 *** One year later ***

 You stir and turn toward him, your hand searching and finding his chest, and then lay your head on his shoulder. Groggy with sleep, you just mumble his name, eyes still closed, before letting out a content sigh and Ivar can't help but smile; you're so adorable.  

 Wrapping his arm around your waist, he draws you closer, running his fingers along your back and pressing his lips to your head. Rewarded by kisses in the crook of his neck, his free hand settles on your hip, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. "Hi," he greets you and buries his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent.

 "Hi." You eventually mumble with a raspy voice, now peppering light kisses all over his broad torso. "What were you doing, my love?" Your eyes flutter open and, propping yourself up on your elbow, your other hand flat on his chest, you offer him a warm smile. There's so much love in your eyes, it takes his breath away. 

 "I was remembering." Ivar smiles fondly at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Do you know what day it is?" He asks, gently kissing your knuckles one after the other. 

 "How could I have forgotten?" You scoot even closer, your breast against his chest, your mouth barely an inch from his. "Today is the anniversary of the day we met, my love. That's what you were thinking about?"

 Ivar nods before laying you down on the bed tenderly. He then sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I remember as though it were yesterday, you know? I still can't believe you didn't run away." Sitting behind him, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trapping him in your embrace, in your love. "You stayed…", his voice trembles as he gestures to his legs, hidden under the sheets, "… you stayed in spite of… of them…" He swallows loudly and your heart aches.

 Resting your head on his left shoulder, you shake your head. "No, my love, I didn’t stay in spite of your legs, but because of them." 

 Ivar is looking downward but as soon as the words escape your lips, he snaps his head to the side, a frown flitting across his face, and gives you a confused and slightly upset look. "What do you… What do you mean?" He stammers, suddenly tense.

 Shifting in the bed, you carefully straddle him, tilting his chin with a curled finger and forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't get me wrong, Ivar. I'm not especially attracted to your legs. It's not some kind of weird fetish. I stayed because of what is in here." You put your finger on his forehead, and then over his heart. "And here. But your legs made you who you are. And you're different. A good kind of different. You don't think like other men. That's what I love the most about you. You're unpredictable; you always surprise me. You wouldn't have been who you are without your legs." A gentle hand sliding under the sheets, your fingers graze his scarred skin. "With two working legs, who knows what you would have been. You probably would have been a presumptuous womanizer like Bjorn. Or you might have been as boring as Ubbe; as careless as Hvitserk; as annoying as Sigurd. You are who you are, infuriating, smart, and stubborn, and, I must say, breathtakingly handsome, and I love you exactly the way you are." 

 Ivar just looks at you for a long time, a small smile playing on his lips. Raising his right hand, he cups your face. "Never stop telling me you love me, Y/N. Please..." You never saw him so willingly vulnerable before, and it breaks your heart – you never want him to doubt himself – as much as it fills you with joy – he trusts you enough to share his insecurities with you. 

 You answer him without missing a beat. "I won't. I love you more than my own life. I love you bigger than the sky and its stars, I love you to the moon and back. I love you like I never thought I could. Loving you is a blessing, a precious gift, the meaning of my life. I love you and only you, Ivar Lothbrok."

 Blinking a few times, Ivar heaves a shuddering breath. Tears come to his bright blue eyes and the expression on his face is unreadable; fragile and strong all at once. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. Staring into space, he seems lost.

 Stroking his cheek, you bring him back to the here and now, back to you, kissing his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, before returning briefly to his mouth. "What is it, Ivar?"

 Your lover shrugs, "Nothing, really," and pulls you closer, his hands on your back, his breath on your face, his manly scent enticing you. "Or more accurately…", he whispers in your ear, "… Nothing, yet everything." 

 Not understanding what he's getting at, you keep quiet, just staring at him, confusion obvious in your eyes. He then offers you a mind-blowing smile, and your heart nearly jumps out through your mouth at his next words. 

 "I may be happy. Actually, I think I am."

 🛡⚔️🛡

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A Very Special Night

Hey everybody! Here’s a quick oneshot I wrote where Toph and Su help Lin get ready for her school dance, because we deserve more happy Beifongs and Lin getting the love and support from her family that she was denied in canon. Enjoy! 

“So, are you nervous? You must be nervous, you’re not eating.”

Lin looked up from her plate at her sister’s words. It was true, she was nervous. Her dinner lay untouched on her plate, as her stomach was in knots.

“Eat up, baby girl. You can’t dance on an empty stomach. Well, I suppose you can, but you shouldn’t,” her mother chimed in. 

“No, no, I’m not nervous. I’m just… excited, that’s all!,” she lied, something her mother picked up on immediately. 

Toph’s expression shifted into one of concern.

“What’s wrong, Linny? This is a big night, you should be over the moon right now,” she wondered. 

It was true, tonight was a big night. When her school at first announced that they were going to be hosting a formal, Lin decided right away that she would not be attending. She was a horrible dancer, not to mention socially awkward, and she didn’t know the first thing about getting dressed up. It wasn’t until one of her oldest and quite frankly only friends, Tenzin, had decided that he wanted to go and as his best friend she was obligated to go with him was she convinced to buy a ticket. 

Lin wasn’t sure why she felt like her heart was gonna beat out of her chest when he asked her to go with him. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. She had known Tenzin forever. This was just a friend thing, she repeated over and over again in her head, although the mantra didn’t do much to rest her fast beating heart. 

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“Promise,” Toph and Su assured her.

“Well, I have a dress and shoes and everything, but I’m still not really sure how I’m going to do my hair and makeup. You know I’m not good at that stuff,” she confessed, blushing. 

Su perked up. “Oh, that’s easy! I can do it for you, I’m great at that stuff!”

It was true. Su had always had a keen and stylish eye that her visually challenged mother and dorky sister lacked. Maybe Lin should have felt embarrassed that her ten year old kid sister knew more about these things than herself, a girl of fifteen, but she was honestly just grateful for her help. 

“Here, I can do it right now no problem,” Su offered. The sisters got up from the table and began to make their way upstairs.

“Hey, girls! Aren’t you gonna finish your dinner?,” Toph called out.

“Yeah, yeah, we will in a bit. But this is more important!,” Su shouted back from the top of the staircase.

The girls made their way to the bathroom, where Su sat Lin down on the closed toilet seat. She pulled out a hairbrush and assorted hair elastics and then plopped herself down on the edge of the bathtub behind her sister. 

“So, you and Tenzin?,” she asked suggestively as she brushed out Lin’s hair. 

Lin began to blush. “What about me and Tenzin?”

“Is this a date?”

Lin’s face lit up bright red. “Wh- what? No- no we’re just friends. We’re going to the dance as friends. Not a date. Why would I be going on a date with Tenzin?”

“Because you have a huge crush on him?,” Su said knowingly, as if this should have been obvious.

“No! No I don’t! Who told you that anyways?”

Su rolled her eyes. “Nobody told me, silly! I figured it out myself. You make it pretty obvious, you know.”

“No I do not! I do not make it obvious because I do not have a crush on Tenzin!”

Su sighed. It appeared she was going to have to bring in the big guns.

“Hey Mom! Does Lin have a crush on Tenzin?,” she shouted down to Toph in the kitchen.

“Su! What are you doing?,” Lin asked her sister angrily, a warning tone in her voice.

Toph laughed. “Well duh! She’s had a crush on him since she was like, what? Five? Six?”

Lin’s face was growing redder by the minute. “Mom! Why would you say that? I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush. On. Tenzin.” 

“Sorry baby girl. Deny it all you want, but your heartbeat always goes crazy for that airhead. Don’t worry, he likes you back,” Toph called up to them from the kitchen.

“What?,” Lin shrieked, although she couldn’t deny that she didn’t entirely hate the idea. She more than just not hated it. She actually… well she could actually get used to the idea. Tenzin having a crush on her. 

Su giggled. “Keep still, I’m trying to do your makeup. Unless you want me to poke you in the eye with this thing,” she joked, waving the mascara wand in front of her face. 

Lin rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I would mind having my eyes poked out right about now. And maybe gag me with a spoon while you’re at it.” 

Five minutes and lots of eye goop later, Lin had been transformed into a thing of beauty. That’s not to say that she wasn’t already beautiful as she was, but it wasn’t as if Lin put a ton of effort into her appearance on a daily basis. She told herself that it was because she had more important things to worry about, but in reality it was mostly because she always felt as if she couldn’t really pull it off. 

“Here! All done! You look absolutely gorgeous, Tenzin is going to love it,” Su told her with pride. 

Lin took a look at herself in the mirror. Her sister hadn’t been lying. Her dark hair was done up in a low bun at the base of her neck with a braided crown circling her head. A blue lotus blossom poked out from behind her ear to match the shade of the shadow on her eyes. Her lips were glossy, and her cheeks blushed a faint pink.

She looked fantastic. 

“Wow, Su. I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”

“My pleasure!,” she replied with a smile.

“I’m gonna go put on my dress. How about you go downstairs and help Mom figure out the camera?” 

Su gasped audibly as Lin emerged from the top of the stairs several minutes later. Her beautiful blue qipao dress perfectly matched the flower tucked behind her ear, and it made her look and feel like a star. 

“How do I look?,” she asked nervously. 

“Wow, Lin. You look amazing!,” Su exclaimed.

Toph walked up to where her daughter was standing and cupped her face with her hands, tracing her features softly with the tips of her fingers. She had to reach up and pull her face down to her level, as Lin had undergone quite the growth spurt within the past few years and had shot up well above her chronically short mother. 

“Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

Toph began to tear up a little. “I can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up. Where does the time go? It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms for the very first time.”

“Yeah baby girl, where does the time go?,” Su repeated in a light mocking tone, although there was no real malice behind it. 

“You’re growing up too, little miss beauty parlour,” Lin reminded her sister with a laugh, but she was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. All of a sudden, the nerves she had been keeping at bay all came flooding back to her. 

“He’s here! Okay, you guys cannot embarrass me.”

Toph threw up her hands defensively. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Mom, that means you can’t try and interrogate him like he’s some criminal. And Su, if you mention anything about this being a date or how I have a crush on him, I’m going to have to kill you later,” she warned her family. 

“Got it. Scout’s honour,” Toph swore.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Su agreed reluctantly. 

Lin took a deep breath and opened up the door. 

“Wow, you look fantastic!,” Tenzin exclaimed, blushing. 

Lin began to blush herself. Tenzin had gotten pretty dressed up. She was surprised to see him in a suit, normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in one unless his parents forced him to. 

“You look pretty good yourself,” she complimented him. 

Su waggled her eyebrows suggestively behind Tenzin’s back, and Lin shot her a warning look.

“So, Tenz. Bring my daughter home in one piece, will ya? We kind of like her around here.”

“Oh yeah, of course Aunt Toph!”

Toph raised one eyebrow at him.

“Oh- uhhh- I mean- uhhhh- yes. Yes ma’am. I will do that,” he stammered. 

“Good man,” Toph validated him with a nod of her head, apparently unable to resist an opportunity to take a power trip. 

“Let’s take pictures, and then you guys can go have your fun,” Su giggled. 

Lin rolled her eyes at her sister, but obliged to take a few cheesy photos of her and Tenzin posing together. 

“Alright, we better get going or we’re going to be late,” Tenzin warned.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours, bye!,” she said, waving goodbye to her mother and sister. 

“Have fun, kiddo! Don’t spike any punch, at least not without me there to make fun of the aftermath!” 

“Bye Lin! Bye Tenzin! Have fun on your date!,” Su called out as the door slammed shut.

Lin shot a look at her sister, but it was too late. Tenzin had heard.

“D- date? Is this a date?”

Lin’s face burned bright red. “I mean- n- no. Unless you want it to be?”

Tenzin went quiet for a moment, as if he were thinking it over.

“Yes, yes I do. I do want this to be a date. But I mean, only if you want it to be.”

“I think I do.”

Tenzin’s entire face lit up, and Lin felt herself begin to grin as well. Perhaps school dances weren’t so terrible after all.

The Tale of Queen Angie, Chapter 2

10 months later.

“So who keeps texting you?” Angie asked, trying to hide her annoyance as she did her makeup at the vanity, brushing on the heavy mascara that made her eyes pop. He had recently restored the makeup table for her, rebuilding a nice old piece that had caught her eye at a yard sale a few months back. It’s not that she had very particular tastes in furniture; she just wanted to keep him busy, focused on something for her...

From his spot on her queen-sized bed, AJ quickly reached over to the nightstand, pushing aside the tissues and lotion, and silenced his phone. Even though it was nearly noon, and a Tuesday, he still hadn’t gotten out of bed.  “It’s...nobody, babe.” “Don’t ‘nobody babe’ me,” she said, her eyes flashing to meet his in the mirror, “Remember? We talked about this. About keeping secrets, from me?” To that, AJ laughed. To sound aloof, though,  was a half-hearted effort,. She’s joking, right? It’s not like it’s another girl, ever. It’s just th- Well, better not push it. “S-so sorry, Angie,” he apologized, not wanting a confrontation again over something so silly, “It was the guys from work. They want me to come down to Stoney’s to watch the game.” 

He had answered honestly, not even sure he was capable of lying to her at this point. AJ had, since reconnecting with Angie at the reunion earlier this year, really fallen hard for her. And it wasn’t just the tits, which admittedly were initially the main attraction. She was also smart, driven, and there was an aggression about her that, these days, had really become appealing to him. He’d never would have considered himself a...what did they call it?...a “beta”, but there was something about the way Angie took charge, managed things, told him what to do that really, yeah, turned him on. More and more every day, in fact.  And not just in bed - though, haha, she did that too - but in life in general. Their romance started out with her as the aggressor, and as time went on it had become even more and more one-sided. She had been an infatuated admirer of his back in high school, but if he was being honest it was now really her that held most all the hand in this relationship. But he hadn’t seen the guys much lately, and he kinda wanted to get drunk and commiserate with them. Since losing the stadium job to that big new girly construction company, his business had taken a sour turn. He’d had to let most of his crews go, including a bunch of old friends. 

“They’re down there drinking, before noon, on a Tuesday?” Angie asked, as she saw him watching her, primping in the mirror in her silk dressing robe, “And these people are your friends?” 

“Well, yeah,” he answered, immediately feeling sheepish, immediately feeling like the little boy trying to explain himself to his mom. She had a way of doing that, making him feel infantile and not like the kinda-successful, twenty-nine year-old adult male he was, “but I’d just be going for a beer or two…” So...dammit... why was he getting hard..?

Annoyance was bubbling up in Angie Wade’s chest. He knew she had taken the day off, so they could spend the day together. And he wanted to go see his moron buddies, drink cheap beer and watch sports? True, she hadn’t paid him much attention this morning, and he was probably feeling a little neglected. I guess I should do something about that, she thought wryly. 

“Well, tell them you're busy,” she answered, applying a dramatic shade to her eyelids in the mirror. She was almost done. “Or better yet, just ignore them. They’ll get the message.”

At that, she stood up from her makeup chair and turned around in her short, thin robe of light rose, cinched at the waist. She was facing him now where he laid, half-sitting, on the bed. He had his grey sweatpants back on but was otherwise bare. She watched his eyes move up her body, pausing - predictably - on her well-presented chest before struggling to break free of the magnetic pull of her curves and meet her gaze. 

A part of him had really wanted to go meet up with his friends. To get out of bed and go do ….something normal. He’d been getting out of the house, aside from the less-and-less frequent work, not that often these days. But that desire to leave was small, and fleeting. No sooner had he really grasped how she’d made herself up today - just for him - than the thought had already vanished. Replaced, in its entirety, by her. “Put the phone down,” she told him. “Oh, uh...yeah,” he obeyed, dropping his phone, forgotten, on the nightstand and watching as she slowly began to walk towards the bed, “They’ll, uh...they’ll figure it out, I g-guess...” “Good boy,“ she purred, giving him a crooked smile that told him she was pleased with his behavior. Angie loved the way he always shuddered and grew quiet when she said that, when she called him a “good boy”. It was a thing, these days, women starting to treat their partners like children. She’d read it in the blogs she followed, heard it from friends and from the girls at work. They had all begun to like it; men, for the most part, seemed to be slowly giving up these centuries-old, macho defenses, letting themselves be vulnerable, allowing themselves to enjoy the pampering that women had started to learn was the quickest way to gain leverage and control in their relationships. And for Angie, well...she loved the way he responded to both her silent and explicit commands, just for the opportunity to hear her say those words. Good boy. He really did enjoy when she mothered him, she knew.  It was kinda pervy but it worked.

“Because we’re busy today, you and me,” she continued, still approaching the side of the bed where he lay, ”Today’s our day off together....” She looked down at him, tried to keep from smirking; already his cock had started to tent his sweatpants. “Not that you’ve been working much anyways,” she added, unable to help herself and speaking plainly. 

It was true. With more and more construction bids falling through during the 11th hour, his work kept him less and less busy, though he felt constantly exhausted from the stress. He had been spending lots of time here, at her place, remodeling her condo for her, sleeping over. His bank accounts had nearly dried to nothing, and the lease on his downtown apartment was up this month. Plan was to officially move in with her, soon. Angie said she didn’t need any money for rent.

Finally, she arrived at his bedside, to his left. She let him look up at her - she knew she looked impressive from this angle - and smiled down at him. She watched as he took the hem of her robe between his fingers, played with its slick, soft fabric. He was looking at her full thigh. She sat down, on the edge of the mattress aside him, and put her hand on his thin, tattooed chest. 

“Uh, yeah…” AJ finally replied, these little derisive comments about his work situation irking him less and less as time went on, “I’ve got another day to kill…I guess I can relax...”

“Well, you do have work to do today, baby,” Angie informed him, tracing little circles with her finger across his once-mighty pecs. She had told him to stop going to the gym early in their relationship - muscular guys were going out of fashion, she’d said - and it showed. He was naturally a lean person, and the strong physique he had spent years building and been known for had mostly disappeared. She liked that, the weak, small-boned look, she’d found. Her friends, like that gym-rat Missy (who just got a new job), could probably squat more than him now, haha. “I have jobs for you.”

“I thought I was pretty much all done?” His face screwed up in concentration as he tried to remember the long list of tasks. “I finished the kitchen island, a-and installed the new shower head yesterd-“ 

“Not that kind of work, sweetie,” she corrected, “Relationship work. I have the day off, I got all pretty for you. I bought some new goodies at Victoria’s Secret yesterday,” she smiled down at him, watching him try to control the little eager twitches of his, “Well, technically, you bought them for me…. but either way….”

She ran the fingers of her left hand up past his right collarbone, sliding up his throat, looking at the tender, bare, smoothly unadorned skin, and thought to herself with a secret, silent giggle: we need to get you a new tattoo...

Today she’d decided that she wanted to have some fun with him. They had all day together and she really wanted to feel strong and powerful. She had seen Melissa’s Instagram earlier, and while she would never admit to feeling lesser, she couldn’t deny that she really felt the need now to flex some feminine muscles. She looked down at him, and dark thoughts went through her head. 

“We’ve got alllll day together,” she continued, her free hand now gently tugging on the belt which held her robe closed, “and I want to make you ache.”

She smiled proudly as, as soon as her right breast began to come into view, he groaned. He was already so turned on, she could see that, like some brainless ape. She’d read the manuals, all those domme blogs. With everything that was going on with men these days, femdom was getting very popular. Some seemed sort of silly - so much leather haha - but there were lots of things she wanted to try, get his mind in the right place. She wanted to make him even more submissive than he was already, it seemed, naturally becoming. Showing him her breast was a start. 

“Don’t you want to show me how much you love me today, hmm?” Angie purred, peeling her robe back further, now, exposing her G-cup breasts in the new push-up, black strapless bra she’d purchased, “How much you love...them?”

“Oh, god, Angie…” AJ moaned, already overcome as he watched as she dropped her robe behind herself, off her shoulders.  Her breasts looked fantastic, enormous, pressed perfectly together into mind-melting cleavage. Her long dark hair had fallen softly onto her chest…

...but in a practiced move she pushed it back, over her pale shoulders, affording him a better view. 

“You don’t need to show me your endurance today, baby,” she said, as she settled closer on the bed to him, pulling his sweatpants down to his knees, “I’m not interested in how long you can last.” Acknowledging his erection with a proud smile, she pulled in closer still and grasped it with her left hand. She heard him gasp, and pulled herself in closer still, to bring her big right tit right close to his face. “Today I want you to show me how weak you are for me…and my breasts…”

AJ’s mouth dropped open, his eyes goggled at the cantaloupe-sized breast of his brunette girlfriend, now just inches from his nose and mouth. She had such big, perfect breasts, he marveled, with smooth ivory skin and just the fewest of freckles. She smelled like fresh fruit, he always thought, and today her perfume had him immediately fixated. He did feel weak for her, he thought, he always did, in bed. She just had this way...and those tits...

“Look what I’ve done to you already,” she said, the pride in her voice masking a haughty disdain as she slowly began to stroke him in her fist. She smiled as, predictably, he let out a little whine and opened his mouth wider. He was staring right at her big boob, unblinking. Tit men, she marveled, they’re so easy.

She shifted her left shoulder in towards him, now bringing her left breast closer. He looked from one, to the other, still gape-mouthed like a guppy. “Today I want them to make you cum over and over and over,” she said, wobbling them just enough to bring ripples through her alabaster flesh, elicit another whine from him, “I want them to be the only thing on your mind allllll daaaay. I want you to be dumb and docile, I want you to drool over them. I want you to fucking worship them. ”

“y-y-y-yuh...yuh, okay…” AJ responded, dumbly ogling her tits, passively frozen in place. He’d learned to keep his hands to himself, times like this. She would take care of it. 

“‘Yuh okay’ what?” she asked him, in correction, her left hand slowing to a stop as she waited for his answer. 

“y-yuh okay goddess,” he answered.

She chuckled. She’d taught him well. “Good boy,” she commended, loving the worshipful fealty she’d gotten from him over time; it made her feel good, fed her ballooned ego. She resumed her ministrations to his just-about-average cock, thinking: Does Melissa have someone calling her ‘Goddess’?? I think not...

”oh my god you’re so big,” AJ offered, as she placed her right breast once again straight in front of his face. 

“Mmhm…” she purred, feeling the urge to just squash her tit onto his mouth and nose, start to smother him, “I’m the big Titty Monster, come to eat you…”

He groaned again, his eyes fluttered in ecstasy. 

God, so submissive, she marveled. If all men, honestly, were secretly getting to be like this, she thought, girls are going to rule the world. “Tell me again,” she commanded, breathing in, pushing her tit even closer to him, so that soft flesh swelled over the cup. She kept her skin smooth, soft, moisturized, for times just like this. The few, faint stretch marks, she felt, were just a testament to her womanly size.

“y-you’re so big…” he complied, repeating himself, in total awe now. 

“Yes, I am,” she agreed, “a G-cup.” She had originally thought she’d just make him come quick - and with where she had him at the moment she could do it in an instant. But she was actually enjoying this. “And you like that, hm? You like big. Big boobs. Big girls. Maybe I should start going to the gym, get reeeeeal big?” she posited, looming over him taller now, “Get bigger than you? You’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”

“oh, god, yes,” he groaned. 

Angie smiled. Again, so easy. She’d seen it, knew it. It was getting plain as day to her. But she didn’t fully understand it all yet. What is up with guys these days, wanting their women big? Bigger than them? And she was feeling it too, she realized. She’d love to see him start to just shrink up, right in front of her eyes. Something was happening, something was going on. And she was going to figure this out. 

“What is it, baby? Tell me. What is it that you like, thinking about me being bigger?” she asked sweetly, continuing her slow, rhythmic attentions between his legs. 

His eyes were still planted on her tit, staring at her bra. “....b-b-breassts….” he moaned. 

She laughed. What a simple, predictable answer from a simple, predictable man. “Ohhhh..!” she giggled, teasing him, “Am I not big enough for you? Should I get implants? Big ones, like Amelia? Hm?”

From AJ, no answer.

“Hmmm, no. I think I know...I know what you want,” she continued, wickedly aware now of where his mind was,  “Maybe I should let you get me pregnant, so they swell up..?” She smiled, feeling his body tense up, quiver under her. She’d struck a chord. “So my milk comes in?”

Beneath her AJ groaned, loudly. 

So that’s another thing, hm? she laughed to herself. Typical, not surprising. Men wanted back on the tit, it just made sense, and she’d suspected it for a while now with him. She could use this, she mused. Oh yes, this was good...

“I saw how you woke up sucking your thumb last night,” she asked him, sliding her right hand up over his jaw, his cheek, to his lips, “Were you thinking about me?”

She put a finger in his mouth, watched his eyes go wide, his whole body spasm, again. “It’s okay, sweetie...” she offered, “...suck.” 

His eyes fluttered, he was close. There was no stopping it now. He sealed his lips around her forefinger, and began to suck. 

“There you go….” Angie purred, in a satisfied drawl. She felt his hips start to clench, and suddenly it was time.  She sped up in her stroking, to bring him home.  This was it. It’s too much for him. “Come for me,” she whispered, her hand beating him now, “Come for mommy…”

In a burst, in a groan, in a tensing spasm that shook the bed, AJ came in her hand. His mouth loosened its suction on her finger, so he could bleat his pleasures, but his eyes stayed wide on her tit. She milked him through his climax, purring little, maternal adulations along the way. Finally, his eyes closed, and he sank back into his pillow. 

She sat back, up straight, regarded the scene with a crooked, knowing smile. She wiped her hand on his belly. 

“Clean yourself up, get yourself ready,” she told him, standing up now after allowing him his few quiet moments of shame, “We’ve got all day together, baby…”

=============================

Co-written with AgeOfTheGiantess. More imagery, bonus storylines and other cool stuff at my Patreon

Just wanted to drop this cause im tired.

Enjoy some lonelyeyes reincarnation au in a coffee shop.

Peter works.

Its not something that particularly bothers him much. His sister laughs and jokes around with him, while moving around serving her orders.

Their cafe is small and cozy but also sort of lonely, they have the oddest shifts imaginable, mostly working the graveyard shift.

Peter cooks the pastries while Judith and Aaron take the orders and serve the food. Clara has her music show on fridays and Lydia works at the art gallery but spends most of her time helping around as well.

The five of them are happy.

Simon was happy to help them pay for the Tundra Cafe. He hums under his breath while Judy sings along, there weren't that many people so they could do it without shame.

He is content.

…

At least he thinks he is. And honestly why shouldn't he? He has a good job, he has a good relationship with all his siblings, his adoptive dad loved them unconditionally.

By all means he should be nothing but happy.

And yet.

He feels… as if something was missing.

It was like an itch that he could not get over with.

It probably started back when he got a crush in one of his college professors that he realized-

That he really was missing something important.

Mister Wright was older than him sure, but he was handsome and Peter wasn't one to care much about age. However, the few times they spoke it was-

It was like there was something not right, it soured him somehow, but perhaps it was for the best, the man was married and he just had a stupid silly crush. It still did not take away the fact that he felt as if there was something off with him too.

He thinks his eyes should be a clearer grey than they were.

The next time he realized something was off was when he met Elias Bouchard.

Again it was embarrassing how quickly he seemed to get a crush on him, he just saw him a few times and his mind got stuck on his face. He was handsome and this time he was around his age. They had a few classes together so despite his anxiety he actually spoke with him.

And it was….

Dull.

He was dull as a wall. It did not lead up to anything else, beyond a few greetings later on, but it stayed on his mind.

Any other attempt at dating or going out turned out badly for him and its not as if he didn't try! It just was never… right.

Clara said that if he kept looking for the perfect person he would die alone and miserable. Lydia hits her and tells him that its ok, sometimes people don't click, he just needs to find someone who gets him.

He tries, but between his social anxiety, personality and perhaps his lack of interest in sex during the best of times, people are more or less put off with him. His sisters and brother are all offended on his behalf but Peter has resigned himself to not think too much about it.

Maybe he is like Lydia and he is better off alone.

That makes all of them look at him with tight faces and he blinks confusedly at them.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, just, you have us and dad Peter you're not alone” Judy holds his hand and Aaron nods.

“I- i know, i just meant like relationship wise, maybe i just have to be alone. I know I have all of you. We live in the same building block. I don't think we could be alone if we wanted” That makes them all sort of laugh and the tension breaks.

His siblings talk and joke and he ponders.

He wonders why sometimes they all act weird with him when he speaks about being alone. Why his adoptive dad always made sure to let them know he loved them. Simon was fun and took care of them, but it always felt as if he wasn't saying something.

However he sees his family be happy around him and he ignores that feeling of wrong that always permeates around him. He won't dampen their happiness with his own pessimistic thoughts and paranoia.

So yes, Peter bakes, makes models of ships on his free time, takes pictures a lot-

He found out he enjoyed keeping pictures of things he liked, plus taking odd ones of his siblings. It was just… harmless fun, more often than not he went to the port to take pictures of the ships. He wondered how it would feel to have his own.

Still that's a dream for someone else.

Peter Fairchild is happy with the quaint little life he has.

It stands to reason that his life would be upturned on a Tuesday, Peter has a personal hate towards that day of the week and it makes sense that this happened then.

Aaron was running late, he had to help a friend move out and it took longer than expected, the cafe opened earlier than usual and there were a lot of people. Judith could not take all the orders on her own, and their sisters would not be able to help at least for another hour. So with a sigh and discomfort he goes to take orders.

They work faster like that at least.

Its when he asks about the order of some guy working on his laptop that he gets hit with something familiar.

“One black coffee and a chocolate croissant” The order rings alarm bells on his head so he looks to the face of the owner.

A man with curly auburn hair, red glasses and freckles gives him a practiced strained smile that he sees in more clients, but what actually makes him almost drop the paper he was writing on was the eyes, they were such a cool shade of grey.

He flounders and the man raises an eyebrow impatiently, so he writes quickly and goes back to get order. She gives him a puzzled look since she is usually the one taking them to the customers, but Peter shakes his head and works.

His hands move on autopilot to make the coffee, and even if he says black he puts just the right amount of milk and sugar that his mind provides.

Picking up one of the freshly made croissants and after hesitating a chocolate chip cookie he goes and gives it to the man quietly and without a word. That done and his sweaty palms and his heart going faster he goes to hide in the kitchen, expecting to get yelled at for messing up the order-

But nothing happens.

Judith comes to check on him, but Peter was at that point just cleaning up a little bit and waves her away. Nodding she hesitates and hugs him a little bit before going out. He lets out a breath and sighs.

Lydia and Clara come 10 minutes later and he can stay cooped out in the kitchen in peace. Still he can't help but to be nervous about the customer he gave the coffee and cookie.

Why did he change his order? It was insignificant but it just sounded right. Fretting a little he finishes cleaning the plates. Nothing else comes about and by the time they close the man is gone.

The feeling of loss becomes stronger.

He doesn't see him again for at least another 3 weeks, in fact the only reason he realizes is because Clara says there is a sour red head giving her and Judith the stink eye every time they try to get his order. His lips twitch upwards and he suggests sending Aaron, she rolls her eyes but asks the younger boy to go.

Its not five minutes later that he comes back just as perplexed.

“Is he trying to just get the wifi for free? I'm going to kick him off” Peter dries his hands and quietly prepares the order. Once he is done he sneaks out and delivers it to him, the man gives him a critical look that sends shivers down his spine. Both in disgust and familiarity.

“I didn't order yet”

“... Well you didn't let anyone take your order anyways” His lips purse in thought and he picks up the drink taking a sip. He puts the rest of his things down and goes to turn around to leave, when he asks how did he know how he takes his coffee.

Peter doesn't have a clue.

“You just looked like you needed something less bitter” He sees his mouth fall open slightly and Peter goes while feeling his ears burn, oh god why did he say that?

Once back in the safety of the kitchen, Judy gives him a look but pats his shoulder and goes out.

Ok, ok, he is fine.

The man keeps coming and refuses to let any of his siblings pick out his orders. So Peter is the one in charge to talk with him. Albeit that is an understatement. They merely snark a little, he gives him his order and goes. Whoever is working that day is supposed to charge him, Peter is only obligated to present the food. However the interesting thing is, that just as their cafe opens at weird hours of the day, the man appears there just as well, its kind of eerie how well he seems to know when it's open considering they have the oddest schedules.

Its in fact in one of those times they work at night that he sees him again. Usually he is very put together, but this time he looked… well messy. His hair looked as he had run his hands through it several times, his eyes were red and puffy and he honestly looked miserable.

Peter was completely baffled, the worst part is he wasn't sure what to do, or if he should say something.

The place was almost empty, his sister was keeping watch, so he just stands there and asks what he wanted that night.

He looks up to him and Peter has that feeling that this man should not be looking like this, he should be smug or sure of himself not… whatever this was. He also wanted to pull him towards him and that thought made his cheeks heat up.

“Just- heh, just surprise me i guess. Its been… its been one of those days” He is not sure what he means, but he nods and goes to make him something. Most of the names of the drinks and desserts were Lydia's ideas, the rest of his siblings alongside him were terrible at picking names. He is surprised they even let him pick the one of the cafe, but considering the other options, it was the least weird one.

Still they do have some that they chose for the orders.

Case in point.

The chocolate tower cake lovingly named the panopticon and his special coffee the watcher. It was named like that when it was proven that it had so much caffeine that it made you unable to sleep. He is sure he saw a guy stop blinking for like five minutes after insisting on drinking it, despite the warnings.

So once he grabs it, he takes it to the table and warns him.

“We are not responsible for the repercussions of drinking the watcher” The man looks at him and for the first time since he started to come he sees him smile, soon it turns into laughter. Peter watches while clutching the tray and feeling butterflies in his stomach.

He has a lovely laugh.

“What- what is so funny?”

“You- i- it doesn't matter. I get the name now I suppose. The cake?” The small chocolate tower had several fillings and it was very spongy and full of chocolate.

“Mm the panopticon is the best cake we have, surprised you didn't try it before little man” The slip up comes and he freezes expecting the man to say something or get annoyed, but all he does is sigh and smile more sadly at him.

“Thank you” Its weird and he is unsure what happened but he smiles back awkwardly.

He doesn't come back for 2 weeks.

Its raining when he sees him again.

It was Lydia and him and the place only had two clients sitting around drinking and talking amicably. He doesn't pay attention to the little whistle that lets them know someone entered, Simon thought it would be more fun than a bell.

Still his older sisters comes inside looking-

Frazzled?

Lydia is the most calm out of all of them so he immediately goes to see if she is fine, instead she shakes her head and points inside the cafe.

When he looks he sees the man, but he also realizes he has an awful bruise on his eye and chin as if someone had punched him. His heart sort of seizes and his sister goes out with him.

“Are you-”

“I want another watcher and panopticon” He doesn't let him finish, he is sitting close to the register. The man looks even more tired and wiped out.

“... I will get it?” Lydia elbows him. “Do you- do you want some ice for your face?” He can feel his sister disappointment and need to hit her forehead, but he honestly doesn't know what to say. The man, and he really needs to get a name, nods, so Peter prepares the order and gets some ice wrapped up for him.

“Thank you”

“You are welcome um..-?” He drifts and the man looks at him with one eye squinting due to the swelling.

“Jonah. In Jonah Magnus” He seems to be expecting something, yet Peter just nods.

“Peter Fairchild pleasure to meet you?” Lydia is giving him looks. Jonah seems to deflate, but smiles a little, albeit is tainted by the grimace of pain.

“Now that we have names can i eat?” He scowls but nods and lets him be. Still he checks on him from time to time and everytime he peeks from the kitchen window he sees him staring back at him. Peter blushes and works.

He leaves and he is left with questions.

Lydia acts very oddly and concerned about him and the man, but he waves her off.

Jonah comes back, still with the bruises but he looks more calm.

“I wanted to apologize for the scare, I had an altercation with… a friend. That went poorly as you can see” Peter nods and gives him his cookies.

“So- um.. I was wondering if perhaps as a… you know, treat for being so nice, you would like to go out to eat? Or well i was going to suggest getting some coffee but i think you might already be tired of it by now” It takes him a few seconds to realize he is asking him out. When he does he chokes on air and after thinking it a little he nods.

He sees Jonah smile become more real and realizes he was concerned he would say no. He also sees his cheeks start to slowly become more pink the more he stares. So he looks elsewhere and says they can pick a date later. Jonah nods, grabs the writing pad from his hands brushing their fingers and puts up a number.

“So we can arrange it more easily” Peter nods and laughs nervously while walking away. He feels them tingle pleasantly.

“YOU HAVE A DATE!!”

“With the weirdo Ju, i'm sure Peter can do better than him-”

“Cla don't be mean, plus he said yes so he is interested-!”

“That he is interested doesnt mean its good for him Aaron!”

“Don't be so sour-”

Lydia sits with him and they just watch TV calmly while the others talk in the kitchen making dinner. It was Saturday so they were having it in her apartment.

“Do you think it will make you happy?” The question is too particular, but his sister is always like that so he nods.

“It feels… right, more real than anything i suppose, i know its weird but i just…” He just sometimes feels as if he is sort of existing in some sort of empty space and that everything is his imagination.

Life is good. He has siblings that love him, a dad that cares for all of them instead of their original family that was terrible.

Peter has a job-

Life is perfect.

And yet-

This man is more real than anything else.

Like a splash of color in his grayscale world, he is infuriating with his answers when they have small talks at the cafe, but the banter is familiar, it gives him an ache that doesn't understand.

The same ache he thinks he got when he met James and Elias, only this time its because its right. Jonah is right. He is put out of his musings by a hand on his arm.

“I get it Peter… i really do. As long as you are happy its fine. Just… just know that we love you ok? Don't forget it” He tilts his head and sighs before giving her sister a side hug, the top of her head is a little below his collarbone, so he kisses it and says that he could never.

They meet up to actually have lunch.

Its… its nice.

Jonah is a little bastard and they spend time judging and betting on the people around. He also learns more about him.

He is working mostly in management, which he thinks suits him way too well, he seems bossy enough.

“Rude!” He grins at him and feels…

At ease.

The man likewise seems far more calmer and happy, it makes him oddly happy to see him like that.

They keep going out, sometimes for lunch, sometimes they get coffee somewhere else. But they do and the more he gets to hear him talk, the more he feels as if he had always know him, but just could not remember it. Sometimes Jonah seems that he knows him too and its sort of perplexing. Clara would say he stalked him, but its- there are such small things that its not possible for him to know, even if he had.

Its at their 6 date that he asks him to eat at his place. He looks surprised but nods.

When he opens the door and sees him, he almost stammers a holy fuck, he barely manages to get a hold of himself. Jonah looked-

Handsome, so so handsome. It sort of fried his brain a little bit.

So he lets him and tries to finish cooking to distract himself from saying something stupid or embarassing like-

Marry me.

No, no he is not that stupid.

Still Jonah offers to help and they work in tandem and it is such a familiar feeling he is left breathless.

They move as if they both already were used to having the other in their space, its… nerve wracking. Peter wants to know why.

The dinner is delicious and they end up curling on the couch watching tv, Jonah is using him as a giant pillow and Peter can't complain, the weight on top of him actually makes him feel comforted and also sleepy…

He sees the man yawn and before thinking it better asks if he wants to crash here since its late and they are both tired. Jonah blinks at him and he sees him hesitate, so he assures him he won't take it bad if he says no, it was merely a suggestions and-

He laughs and nods before hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He lets out a breath almost as if punched and feels his cheeks warm up while grinning like an idiot.

Once they change and he offers the man a shirt that hangs a little bit too loosely around his frame they get in bed and Peter sort of… stares, Jonah does the same.

“Hey” His lips twitch.

“Hey yourself” It's not clear which one of them moves first, but the next thing he knows they were kissing. It wasn't rushed or anything merely a press of their lips that sets him aflame inside. God he loves him doesn't he?

He loves-

He-

…

Oh.

Son of a bitch.

He bites his lip lightly making the man complain and then he pulls back.

“You sneaky bastard” He sees him frown and then light up with realization.

“Oh”

“Hello Elias” He frowns.

“Jonah if you don't mind” Peter mulls it over, thinking of James and Elias. It wasn't the body that he wanted.

It was the smug bastard that was piloting it that he loved.

“Jonah” The man shivers “I died” He sees him lock his jaw and close his eyes. How peculiar, he would not have hidden away before or shown… shame for what he can see on his face, he wonders what changed in this life.

Peter sees him swallow.

“You did” Nodding he thinks. He died, there were fear gods, he was a Lukas once upon a time, but now he was a Fairchild even if by adoption.

He grew alone, he grew with his siblings.

He was lonely, he was loved.

Peter sees a small tear escape Jonah along with his body being tightly coiled, as if waiting to sprint out.

The punches make sense now, if someone else remembered...

Letting out a breath and pulling at his hair in thought, Peter closes his eyes too and lets it all go over him. That was a life ago, and now? Now he is here and he was… content, but not happy.

Not until he found him again. Or more like Jonah found him.

Its easy honestly, the answer to what he wants to do with him and this chance.

Peter in his first life had only cared about two things, his god and Elias. One is gone, the other.. changed, but was still the same. The same man he had fallen in love with so many times, and in different ways through the years of their marriages and divorces.

The only one that had some form of hold over his heart.

“Come here my little siren” Jonah’s eyes flash open and he blinks a few more tears away before scrambling to his open arms. Its raining outside and the sound its what they hear beyond their breathing and the beating of their hearst. The lights of the room are dimmed and Peter finally feels right, he pulls the covers up and tangles their bodies together, fitting perfectly together.

Without forsaken he can admit it freely, that he loves this, loves the feeling of Jonah pressed against him, a different body, but also always the same.

He just needs to get used to it again, slowly playing with his hair he speaks.

“You are quite a bastard, but so am i and… as nice as this life is… i think its much better with you in it” Jonah shivers.

“What i'm trying to say is i missed you, even if i didn't remember you before. It was always like there was something amiss. A hole in my perfect little life”

“I-” He smiles tiredly.

“You didn't, i know, but its ok. I know you” Jonah shakes his head.

“I did- i just didn't know it either, i thought it was Barnabas at first, then the others, but… it was you. I missed you Peter, I really did…. Even- even in the apocalypse I still did, I would look into the lonely often. Useless sure, but i did” His plan had worked, but at the same time that was no longer their issue.

“Well I guess we are at an impasse. What do you want to do?”

“... I want- i want to stay, please” He thinks of his apartment, big enough for two.

“You will have to deal with my siblings and Simon, this time we stayed close” He snorts.

“If they don't kick me out, i was… an ass with them” Kissing his forehead Peter laughs.

“You were, but… they are happy for me”

“... then yes i would like to stay”

“Good, Jonah?” He looks up to him again, and Peter sees the eyes are the same, that this time they are right, leaning down he kisses him. They fumble in bed for a long while and when they are both sated and more used to each other's bodies, Peter lets the smaller man hug him from the back to cuddle and finally fall asleep.

“You know one would think you would enjoy the opposite of this-”

“I do, but i missed you, so hush and just sleep” He stays quiet for a little bit.

“Night Peter”

“Night, I love you”

“.... i love you too” He smiles.

In the morning they will make breakfast, Jonah goes to his place and he prepares to work. Once he sees him come in later on during the day he presents to him his order and gets a smile.

They will try to make this life count.

He wonders how long till he moves in with him.

On his way to buy groceries he sees a box with a familiar kitten left to the side of a building and he sighs. Better take his cat to the vet now, food can wait.

His sisters will be ecstatic.

Aaron not so much since he is allergic, but well.

It is his cat.

Life truly is good now.

He got his husband, his cat, family and job.

Humming along with the kitten pawing at his arms softly he feels the most happy as he has ever been.

secret garden

a/n: shoutout to my chamaedorea plant, Debrah 🤩 (also @gigis-galaxy for telling me to write for mattsun) his characterisation is wierd but whatever,, this took wayy too long to write sjkdjkdjks i think i change tenses at the end?? I liked it tho so i kept it

Wordcount: 4.4k

pairing: matsukawa issei x gn!reader

Warnings: cursing

Matsukawa didn’t notice you the first time he saw you. Of course, he’d seen you sat leaning against the wall scribbling notes onto your hand, but he hadn’t really noticed you, not enough to be able to describe your appearance. Like every other year, he’d just sat near his friends and started talking, completely missing your voice reverberating off of the plain white classroom walls, your laugh never reaching his ears. Your friends were always sat in front of you, blocking you from his field of vision, so it was no surprise when you two had been partnered up for a history project he’d had to ask who on earth y/n l/n was.

You hadn’t noticed him either, though. Matsukawa was one of those kids who joked around in class, throwing paper balls at their friends and drawing bad pictures of the teacher on scrap pieces of paper but was too discreet to ever get caught. You’d heard his voice but never bothered to turn around and learn whose it was, never scanned the classroom to take in and memorise the faces of your classmates. In your opinion, they were irrelevant unless you needed them for something. 

Unfortunately, you needed Mattsun for this grade.

You waited for him to approach you, not moving from your seat, occasionally glancing over to see whether he was coming to sit beside you (on the table your friend had begrudgingly moved from). After what felt like hours, there was shuffling in that spot and you heard the chair legs scrape across the wood flooring, then a figure slump into the plastic seat. He looked over to you but you were already sending texts to your friends on the other side of the classroom, trying not to laugh so you wouldn’t be caught by the teacher. He thought you were quite attractive; not like Oikawa, though. Like you were unaware of your appearance, as if you didn’t spend too much time staring in the mirror worrying about how you look to others. 

It was silly, really. That he was thinking so deeply into it when all you two had to do was study together and then produce a poster on World War One. It wasn’t difficult, except everytime you started speaking he felt obliged to look over at your face, your expressions. Mattsun desperately needed to focus, and you weren’t helping.

“Are you free to work on this over the weekend or do you want me to finish it?” he heard you ask as he was packing his bag on the Friday before your project was due. You two had mainly worked on it during his free lunches, seeing as all your clubs were on afterschool and not at lunch break. He turned to see you stood at the doorway of your empty classroom, tapping the end of your foot on the floorboards. He nodded, zipping up his backpack and meandering over to where you stood. “Yeah, you have my number, right? Text me your address and i’ll come over at twelve tomorrow,” he started walking off but looked over his shoulder at you, “If it’s okay with you, that is?”

You just agreed politely, joining your friends on the field at the back of campus. You could hear them talking, but you weren’t listening. You had your phone out but it was hidden under your blazer in case any teachers walked past and saw you; as you sent your address to Mattsun you couldn’t help but worry about the state of your room.

Not that it was messy. In fact, it was abnormally clean for a teenager. It was just… full. You had no idea how to tell your partner that you had no desks to work on because they were all occupied by your various houseplants your grandmother gave you? You sure as hell weren’t moving them just so that he could work. 

Your room was a long rectangle, your bed positioned carefully so it fitted perfectly into the thin space by the window (which was occupied by a long pot of forget-me-nots), and you had two desks; one that was for plants all along and the other was now home to plants but was previously used for studying. You did most of your work sat in bed with a tray for stability nowadays.

“Hey y/n! The bell’s gone, we’ll see you Monday, m’kay?” your friend said as they tapped your shoulder and headed off. You just nodded, tucking your device into the inside pocket of your blazer and packing up your things ready for your next english class. 

-

There were crescent moons of dirt underneath your fingernails and when you put the trowel down to sit back and bathe underneath the late afternoon sun you felt a presence behind you, their shadow above yours. 

"Y/n?"

You pulled one of your airpods out, turning to gaze up at them. They were stood directly in the way of the sun, the skin on their arms illuminated with gold. You hummed in response, shifting onto your backside and exposing your mud and grass-stained knees. They chuckled and bent down to meet you; you shielded your eyes from the brightness of the sky.

"You're partnered with Mattsun for the history project, right?" Iwaizumi asked, his head tilting to the side. You nodded, fingertips digging into the soil beside you. There were a few younger students kneeling to weed the flowerbeds and vegetable patches beside yours, but they were silent. Iwaizumi lowered his voice, noticing the alck of noise in the area. There were crickets chirping quietly and the heat seared your skin. You wiped your forehead with the back of your wrist.

"Yeah, why?" your cousin smiled, standing back up as he noticed your eagerness to get back to work. 

"He's skipping practice some lunches and won't tell anyone what he's doing. It's driving Shittykawa mad." you laughed at the nickname but still smacked his leg. "Don't call your best friend names, Hajime! And yeah. It'll be done by the weekend so don't worry, m'kay?"

The brunette nodded, turning away from you and starting to leave, waving lazily at you while still turned. You shouted goodbye as he walked off, spinning round to face the bed of flowers and positioning yourself onto your knees comfortably.

-

Your doorbell was broken when Matsukawa tried ringing it. He marveled at the vast number of window boxes filled with vibrant flowers (which he couldn't name), knocking three times on the wooden door. It was mid afternoon, the sun was hidden behind a few clouds and when you opened the door and invited him inside there were no lights on, only open curtains and white walls and carpets to brighten the rooms.

"Where are we going?" he asked when you led him to the back door and opened it, ushering him outside. It was a large green lawn, surrounded by tall bushes and beds of flowers. There was a small allotment behind a wooden fence and grey brick wall and he saw a tall wooden structure supporting a plethora of different vegetables, along with all different shades of sweet pea blossoms. In short, your garden was something out of a children's story book. 

By the time the pair of you were sat on the blanket underneath an old looking tree, the sun had come out and was lighting the area. There was a stack of textbooks by the roots and you handed him a few which he opened to the bookmarked pages. Mattsun had been the one to keep hold of your poster so he set it down on a tray in the centre of the blanket, along with his stationary.

"What do you want to focus on for the last segment?" you broke the silence with a question which he was quick to respond to.

"Uhm, the causes? Of the war?" you nodded in agreement and opened a textbook. Mattsun cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Whose garden is this? I mean, uhh, who like, takes care of it?" 

You had to hold back a laugh at his nervous tone, suppressing your grin when you explained that it was, in fact, your garden, and you lived mostly alone. 

He just nodded, avoiding any eye contact.

"It was my grandmother's but i look after it now." Mattsun nodded again, ruling a line along the bottom of your poster to mark off the last section. "It's really nice," he said, looking up at you. You slipped your shoes off, tucking your feet under your legs and meeting his eyes.

"You must enjoy it." 

A smile adorned your lips and you hummed in agreement, outlining the title of your poster (causes of World War One) and explaining your hobby to your partner. Honestly, you knew he probably didn't care, but he would listen, even if it wasn't particularly interesting to him.

"When i was younger i lived with my grandparents and sometimes my dad. He's away on business most of the time though. My grandmother used to bring me out and tell me about all of the plants, and after a while let me grow a few myself. When she passed i took over the garden," you giggled as soom is the sun appeared from behind the clouds and lit up your face, " It looks the same as it always did though. I haven't changed it much."

Although you'd assumed Matsukawa wasn't listening, he hadn't transferred any of your notes onto the large sheet of paper. He was laying on his back staring up at the sky through the leaves of the large oak tree and there were little dots of sunlight decorating his skin and hair. His eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks; he was stunning in a way you'd never noticed before. You probably wouldn't have been able to see him this way if you'd have only been with him at school, volleyball practice or at games. It was different, but not in a bad way. You didn't know Matsukawa Issei, but you wanted to.

Clearing your throat to gain his attention (which you had anyway), and looked over at him once again, only to see his eyes on you, cheeks flushed a little as he gazed at your face under the shade of the tree. "We should really get this done, Matsukawa. It's been an hour and a half already."

He agreed, sitting up and resting his soft cheek on the palm of his hand, picking up a pen and copying out your notes in neat while you cut out pictures to accompany the writing.

-

Three sharp knocks at your front door woke you up from the light nap you’d been taking on the sofa laying next to your dad who’d come home for the weekend. You watched sleepily as he stood up to answer whoever it was, expecting a delivery or the friendly postman who was also your neighbor.

It was Matsukawa.

“Y/n!- Oh, uhm, hello, sir.” he said, looking down at his shoes and fiddling with his fingers. After the project you’d turned in the pair of you had become good friends and you now often sat with the volleyball team at lunches, visiting them after school during practice and going to watch practice matches. You’d done this every once in a while because of Iwaizumi but it had become significantly more frequent over the last few months.

“Why do you need y/n?” your dad asked Issei, crossing his arms protectively and leaning all his weight onto one leg. The boy who’d come over to see you just smiled up at him as you peeked out from behind the doorway and waved, pushing your dad to the side gently to allow him over the threshold and towards the door leading to your garden.

“He’s a friend, dad. I told you why i got all that food ready this morning, right?” The sun was setting on the horizon as you took Mattsun’s bag and ran up the stairs to your room, putting it by your desk and running back down to meet your friend on the lawn.

He sat on the tyre swing that hung on the oak tree, his legs threaded through the hole as he swung gently in the evening breeze. “You didn’t tell him i was coming over?” Mattzun said, resting his chin on the rubber. 

“I did! I just didn’t give him any specifics is all.” You collapsed onto the blanket that was spread out over the green blades, your head on a large grey pillow. There was a basket by your feet full of cakes and drinks, and you had a speaker resting in the hollow of the tree trunk. The stars were starting to appear in the sky and the moon was hanging low in the orange glow near the rooftops, their silhouette bold against the slowly darkening backdrop. It was beautiful, and with the silence between you two you didn’t notice Mattsun crawling towards you to lay down on your stomach, a can of cola held loosely between both of his hands. He tapped his short nails against it as he looked up at the sky, his delicately carved face illuminated in the fiery sunset.

"You ok, Mattsun? You're being quiet, it's scaring me," you said, looking down at him as he breathed gently, chest rising and falling slowly as his lungs filled with air. You felt him nod against your stomach, hair sticking slightly to the fabric of your shirt. When he sat up to look at you, it was sticking out in weird directions; he looked like someone from a movie who'd been electrocuted. A giggle escaped your lips and he brushed a hand over the back of his locks, smoothing it down effectively. 

He hummed when you pressed one fingertip to the tip of his nose and then the screen of your phone to play some music. Your dad shut off the upstairs and downstairs lights so now it was almost completely dark; the light of the full moon kissed Mattsun’s cheeks and made him glow, your heart stuttered and your breathing becoming laboured and heavy. The boy was laying down on his back on your blanket, chewing a biscuit and sitting up slightly to swallow it before laying down again. The stars blinked at your through the green leaves of the tree, and you leaned forwards to grab your cup that was filled with tea; the warmth radiating from it met your skin and sent a shiver all the way down your spine. You could hear your breathing fall into synchronization with his, your mind clearing and the only thing present in your thoughts was the boy laying beside you.

-

“Y/n, you never sit with us anymore. Just this lunch?” you shook your head at your friend (who you had indeed ditched for the Seijoh volleyball club a number of months ago), sighing loudly so that she heard you. 

“Seriously, i don’t want to sit with you today, okay?” she just stared at you, face not showing any emotion, “I’ll sit with you guys when i feel like it. That isn’t right now.” and you ignored her pleads as you walked to the stairs where Makki was standing, one foot against the wall and his hands shoved into the pockets of his blazer. His bag was leaning against the surface and one of his shoes was sticking out of the side because the bag as too full. When he saw you he picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder and not speaking, just wandering lazily up the staircase and towards the rooftop where you assumed the rest of the third-year volleyball players would be.

The door was open; there were voices coming through the opening and you heard Mattsun’s laugh, your ears singling out the sound and blocking away everything else. 

Your bag dropped to the ground next to Iwaizumi, sitting on the concrete and letting the wind brush across the bare skin of your arms, blazer discarded on your chair a few minutes away in your classroom. It was a nice day; the sun was overhead, your friend group situated in the shadow of the building. The sky was blue and there were fluffy white clouds floating past, but you payed no attention to them, instead choosing to listen to the conversation the third-years were currently having.

“So you’re skipping detention and sitting with us? For what?” Oikawa said, gazing at Mattsun lazily, the sun almost in his eyes but not quite. He shuffled to the left a bit so he could sit completely in the shade. “Won’t you just get afterschool tomorrow, Mattsun?” 

The boy nodded, fluffy hair bouncing atop his head. His lips were set in a straight line and he opened his mouth to speak, bored expression sticking to his features almost comically, as if he were a doll that only had one emotion. You knew his face never reflected his feelings though.

“Yeah,” he gave no further explanation, just ripped a bit of bread from his lunch and pushed it past his lips into his mouth, chewing slowly and looking over to you. You smiled gently, taking a sip of the chocolate milk you’d picked up from the vending machine that morning but hadn’t had a chance to drink. “Why are you staring at me?” was what you decided to say to Issei after a few minutes, your eyes still locked with his. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk and you sighed, cheeks puffing out. 

“You’re so irritating sometimes, Mattsun. I swear Hajime’s the only responsible one here,” you looked over to your cousin, nudging his knee with yours and adding with a coy smile, “And me, of course.”

The brunette shook his head but didn’t bother to speak. “Y/n, you bring plants to school everyday.” Makki deadpanned, nodding his head towards your schoolbag. . You instinctively pulled it closer by one of the straps, crossing your legs so it was in between your thighs. “Not today, Makki. I didn’t bring anything but my work and lunch.”

Oikawa laughed, seemingly flying over to you and snatching up your bag. When he set it down there was a quiet clink, indicating there was, in fact, something inside. “Y/n seriously, you act as if they’re animals. Just leave them on your windowsill or something.” Makki stated as the captain unzipped your bag. You looked down in defeat when he pulled out a small terracotta plantpot with a tiny succulent in the middle. A burro’s tail, Mattsun thought. He recalled you showing him one when he was at yours after practice once.

The group snickered at the plant and you snatched it away, patting the soil to see if it was in need of water and pulling out your waterbottle to give it a bit. It clinked again when you set it down and Mattsun pulled your face up by the chin to see your expression just as you were about to give the plant a drink. You were pouting, he saw, and your eyebrows furrowed when he laughed at you, his lips curved into a beautiful smile as his voice escaped them.

That’s when you realised just how close his face was to yours. The volleyball team had gone quiet and were all watching you two but you didn’t think Issei had heard you, his forefinger hooked under your chin while his thumb brushed over the top. There was a lot more heat in your cheeks than before, you noticed and you’d dropped your bottle, spilling it over the pale concrete and staining it the colour of slate. Your ears picked up a snort from one of the boys and you tried to wiggle away from Mattsun’s grasp, shaking your head but he gripped your cheeks, squeezing them gently. “Stay there.” he ordered, voice low so the other’s probably couldn’t hear.

Issei leaned in closer, but to your surprise, his lips moved past your face and stopped at your ear, a snicker escaping. “You’re a dumbass, y/n.” was all he said but it surprised you and you yelped from the volume, your head banging against the wall. Your vision clouded and went dark, and when you woke up and raised your hand to the back of your head there was warm liquid over it. You didn’t know if it was blood or the water you’d spilt earlier, but when you saw all four of the third years crouched over you, you assumed it was blood. Iwaizumi pulled you up by your back and leant you against the wall, tapping your nose like he used to when you were kids. 

“Mattsun, you fucking idiot! Shit like that can kill people!” you heard Makki’s voice and then saw Issei’s face above yours, worry filling his eyes. “Fuck, y/n, i didn’t mean to do that, i was trying to joke around,” he whispered, hand on your cheek. Oikawa pulled you up and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, his own slung across your back in case you were dizzy. He turned his head to face his teammates, “I’m taking them to the nurse’s office. Go to class without me,” the brunette informed them and when you stepped through the threshold of the office and collapsed onto the bed, Oikawa setting your bag down on the chair (along with your plant) the bell had rung and you saw the others pass by the office, glancing at you, Haijime waving as he passed. 

You didn’t see Mattsun.

-

It wasn’t until the next weekend you saw Issei again. You were sat on the swing under the shade of the oak tree, swaying gently to the beat of some soft piano music after watering the dying rose bush when your dad called you out of the garden. 

It took a few moments for you to recognise the boy sat on your sofa. Mattsun was holding a yellow plantpot in his hands delicately, tapping it with the edge of his too-long fingernails. He didn’t look at you when you sat down beside him but his cheeks puffed out and he set the pot down on your coffee table, your dad watching quietly from the kitchen with a cup of tea cradled in his hands. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” was the only thing your friend said, after a long but comfortable silence. You nodded, hand on his thigh, “I know. I’m not mad though! Are you free now? We could go sit in the garden if you wanted to,” your voice grew quiet when the brunette looked up at you. He nodded, hair bouncing as he stood up and reached out a hand to help you up. You laced your fingers with his, smiling gratefully as he led you outside. You heard the kettle boiling and mugs clinking as your dad made two drinks for the pair of you.

-

It was still warm in your garden when you finished your picnic. The sun had started setting and the horizon was growing amber, the silhouettes of birds on telephone lines. The skin on your arms was golden from the light and Mattsun was laying next to you, his eyes closed so that his long eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheeks, long shadows extending across his skin.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair and you didn’t want to move them in case he woke up. Really, you had nothing to worry about. Issei wasn’t asleep, but you didn’t need to know that. The breeze fanned over your bare legs and the hairs stood on end. Maybe it was getting a little cold.

Issei opened his eyes when you shifted to move one of your blankets across your legs. He sat up and pulled it over his, shuffling closer to you. His lips were curved up into a delicate arc, tinted red from biting them constantly. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were gazing over at your figure lazily, hooded and tired. You reached over to your bottle, opening it with a fizz. A little of the drink got onto your nose and Mattsun patted it away with the corner of his sleeve, his smile dropped and biting his lip in concentration. 

“Mattsun?” he hummed, placing his hand over yours as you fiddled with the leaves of a hydrangea bush. “You look like you want to say something. What’s up?” your voice was very quiet, but he heard it just fine. The boy shook his head, curls ruffling against your shoulder. 

“It’s nothing.” 

You furrowed your brows but didn’t push any further, knowing that he’d deny it and eventually just leave if you kept asking. The hand that was resting on top of yours moved to your calf that was slung languidly across his thighs, his thumb rubbing circles into your warm skin. It was quiet, without any bird chirping in the background. You heard a car go past your garden; then silence.

His eyes shone when he looked over at you, and you didn’t know if it was the light from the house or if he was really just that beautiful, but it took the air out of your lungs all the same. The usual lazy smile danced on his lips and he pulled your head down and pressed the smile to your cheek, the feeling of his lips on your skin leaving a burning sensation; it felt good. The heat rose onto your face and it felt as if your whole body was on fire, all the way from the tips of your fingers to the top of your nose. 

He was already looking away, though. 

For Mattsun, this was enough; he didn’t know why his heart was pouding so hard it felt like his ribcage was going to crack open or why his eyes were trying to look anywhere but at you. And as much as he was scared, he liked it this way. If not telling you what he thought was happening to him meant that you could stay with him like this, he’d do it. He’d do anything.

The only thing stopping him was the feeling of your hand on his cheek and something heavy crawling into his lap; not until your lips met did he notice it was you who was so close to him. He saw the moon out of the corner of his eye, and the stars around it but nothing at that moment shone as brightly as you did. It was almost blinding, you were almost blinding.

Mattsun had never been very good with his words but he didn’t need them with you. You thought the look in his eyes when you both pulled away was enough to explain what he was thinking.

uhhh @reiningsun​ 👉👈 mayhaps?? KJBDKW im so embarrassed

My @runefactorysecretsanta​ gift for ya_boi_nye is finally done!! Hope I did your favorite characters justice!! :)

Happy holidays!!!! I don’t want to take up too much room so I’m going to throw some rambling and extras under the cut lol

So I don’t think nye has a tumblr, but on their twitter i saw that they were into VTube and youtaite and i wanted to incorporate that in their gift somehow. Unfortunately.... the characters are kind of all already anime??? So drawing-wise, i figured it would be more fun to go with a more general YouTuber AU so I could put in some variety rather than just stills of singing or badly rendered 3D models (by which i am throwing shade on myself alone, VTube rigs are sick but i regrettably have no 3D skills lol)

I’ve actually,,, never played Frontier at all, so I apologize if anyone is wildly out of character!! The wiki is extremely sparse and I didn’t have time to watch too too much of the let’s play i found, so if they’re not right just chalk it up to the YouTuber ~performance~ aspect of this AU lmao.

Even though I’ve never played before and don’t know the characters Super well though, I still had a lot of fun thinking about this AU! If you want to know the specifics of everyone’s content:

Anette does parkour (fun facts, this particular move i drew is called a speed vault!) and a little bit of vlogging, and she’s friends with Erik (as in canon, if I did my research correctly lmao). She sometimes appears on his channel and vice versa, and he helps her film and edit and stuff sometimes. She lives and works with Mist and Rosetta and helps out with their online boutique. Mist is the idea woman who comes up with crazy stuff, Rosetta is the realist and bookkeeper who pulls those ideas together into something feasible and profitable, and Anette handles all the packaging and shipments and stuff! There’s always something weird going on in their apartment and everyone ends up there a lot, so some of Anette’s vlogs get really popular just because of how out there they are lmao. Oh, almost forgot, but her channel is “DeliveryIsFreestyle” bc... get it... free delivery... freestyle parkour / freerunning... Lol actually it was almost going to be “RunTheMail” because i couldn’t think of anything at first so i think this was the right move in the end :P

Erik has a gaming channel where he mostly plays farming and dating sims / otome, and we don’t read too far into whether or not RF exists in this universe for him to play even though I put the posters for frontier on his wall xD. The reason I picked Stardew for this thumbnail specifically is because A) I have it and could easily take screenshots and B) i read that he has a crush on Lara? And she’s like, kind of a nurse? And Maru is kind of a nurse? It’s a silly joke but I thought it would be funny to cockblock him from dating a nurse he has his eyes on even in video gaming with his friends lol. His channel is pretty self-explanatory (I was really hoping his farm would have a fun name when i was looking it up but it’s really just “Erik’s Farm” huh? ...but I probably shouldn’t judge, my dnd character’s wolf is named Wolf xD)

Lute paints!! I think he does a lot of speedpaints and mostly does traditional art, but I think he would have some digital skills hidden up his sleeve as well. And also I don’t know why at all bc I know the least about him out of all 4 of them, but I feel like he has done / does some of those like “how to draw anime” videos because I just think that’s funny. He has a bunch of really popular ones about overly complicated fantasy outfits. No this is not a callout for any series in particular why do you ask? Anyway, I’m not sure exactly how the line goes because I couldn’t find it, but the wiki mentions that he’ll say he’s not doing anything suspicious when he’s painting at the lake, so i thought it would be funny if there’s some kind of running gag with his subscribers where they point out suspicious things he does and he responds in the next video or whatever. The thumbnail I made definitely does just have a screenshot of rff that’s color-corrected and blurred, because I ran out of time but also wanted to differentiate the bg from the canvas ^^;  His channel was originally just “lute” in all lowercase but then i got to the part of the let’s play where he was introduced and he calls himself a “fledgling painter” so i thought this was more fun.

And Eunice has a cooking channel!! She specializes in baking, but she also has a whole playlist along the lines of “Nutritious Food Can Still Taste Good!” where she talks about healthy eating habits but doesn’t buy into diet culture bc I personally HATE diet culture lmao. I think when that gets popular, she also maybe does a side thing about easily accessible workouts for all sorts of people who want to get into shape? But with a focus on getting stronger / being active and Not a focus on Losing Weight necessarily. Promoter of healthy and happy living! I know how her events / dialogue can go in the game, i just happen to have Opinions About Things, so, that’s how she is in my version. Also, unrelated, but she’s very cute. Even though her braids were a bitch to draw hahaha. And i did end up drawing her just in her actual outfit even though i gave everyone else different clothes bc idk it just felt like it fit the aesthetic of a cooking vlog well?? And it’s not a super complicated one unlike others i could mention. Her channel is “Charming Sweets” and her cooking series is “My Cooking” because those are the titles of the books she has on her bookshelf at the start of the game :)

But that’s just all of *my* headcanons for the AU! If anyone else who knows them all better has their own ideas, please be my guest and imagine it however you like!!

Oh, also, fun facts, this is partially a screenshot of my actual web browser, lol, so if y’all want to know what all I have saved on my bookmarks bar and what my google profile pic is, now you know. However, i would like to not downplay how long i spent editing this in what was possibly the least efficient way to put it together how i wanted, rip, which is entirely the reason i am posting this so late LOL. Apologies for the delay, but technically it’s still the 27th here, so! Victory!

(speaking of the layout, did anyone catch the url? I’m disproportionately proud of the url. though i won’t lie part of me really wanted to put the rick roll url there just for my own amusement hahaha)

And, yeah! That’s the end of my spiel. Happy end-of-2020 to all, and an extra helping of that sentiment to nye!!!

Break Up

(Story Post)

“What about Ben? Yeah, I—No, but—” Jeffrey sniffled. “Well go then! Don't come back!” Nathan was just coming out of a meeting with Korsgaard when he caught the end of Jeffrey’s phone conversation. Jeffrey was in the hall carrying Ben strapped to his chest and after hanging up the phone, he just pressed his head against the wall and sobbed. “Whoa, hey…” Nathan rushed over quickly and placed a hand on Jeffrey’s back. “…What’s up? What happened?” Jeffrey flinched but relaxed when he realised it was Nathan. He quickly wiped his eyes. “It’s Bler… He just broke up with me…” “No way.” Nathan wasn’t surprised at all considering how little Bler seemed to be involved with his family based on what Jeffrey had shared in group, but he still felt bad for the boy nonetheless. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”

“He did it through text too!” Jeffrey sniffled, holding up his phone. Ben was visibly getting upset as Jeffrey did, but he didn’t cry. “Who breaks up with someone over text?!” “You were just on the phone though…” Nathan remarked. “He texted me during my counseling, but I called him as soon as I saw it after…” Jeffrey said. Nathan didn’t even think young adults made phone calls anymore, but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he searched his pockets and found one of the twins’ toys, a little squishy octopus, and handed it to Ben. He hoped it would entertain him enough in the moment to keep his attention off his father’s breakdown. “…Break ups are difficult. Not to mention, it must be even harder when you have a baby between you… If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.” Jeffrey slumped his back against the wall and wiped his eye again. “I… I just don’t know what to do…” Nathan nodded and rubbed Jeffrey’s shoulder. “Who’s picking you up today?” “No one…” Jeffrey answered. “Ollie’s at work until later and Korsy’s in, like, Montana or something… I took transit.” Nathan shook his head. “I’m not letting you go on transit like this. How about you have dinner with us? Then when your cousin gets off work, he can get you. Or Dax’ll drive you.” Jeffrey hesitated for second. “That’d be cool, I think… Thanks…” “I’m on wolf cycle which means I’m eating in the cafeteria this week which is good for us because we don’t have to go all the way home, but it also means you can’t stay too late,” Nathan explained. “But I’m headed to my room right now if you’ll join me.” Jeffrey nodded. “Sure.” Nathan offered to carry Ben for the way down and Jeffrey took the break thankfully. He was quiet the whole time as he was guided down to the resident floor, but he wasn’t crying anymore which Nathan hoped was good. Ben watched Jeffrey the whole time with his big wide eyes, almost like he was studying his father. When Jeffrey noticed, he pulled a silly face for him and pet his head. When they got to the room, Nathan let them in with his key. Wano, who had been watching the twins, got up from the floor by their play pen and came to the door. The tall stranger overwhelmed Jeffrey and he stepped back a pace before Wano was standing over him. “Who is this?” Wano asked, tilting his head as he scanned Jeffrey’s face. He glanced at Nathan and then pointed to Ben. “And this. This is not yours, Nathan.” “No, this is Jeffrey and his son Ben,” Nathan said. “He’s in my pregnancy group.” “Uh, Nathan… Who’s this guy?” Jeffrey asked. Then he lowered his voice. “You’re not sleeping around on Mr. Olivier, are you?” “What? No!” Nathan patted Wano’s arm. “This is Wano. He’s under my care at the moment.” “So… You’re fostering him?” Jeffrey asked. “Sometimes it feels that way…” Nathan chuckled. “But, no. It’s sort of like a sponsorship. He stays with us to get some more time outside of APID.” “But this is APID,” Jeffrey said. “Yeah, he still has to come back when I’m on my cycle, but when we’re home, he gets to come live with us,” Nathan said. Wano was still looking Jeffrey over. He pointed to Ben again. “You made this?” Jeffrey’s pride took over and he grinned. “Yeah, baked him myself.” “So, you are a parent?” Wano asked. “That’s right,” Jeffrey said. “Recently single parent.” Nathan watched how Jeffrey’s eyes flicked down Wano’s torso and a sudden realisation of what he might’ve just started filled him with worry. “You’re ra bit small, though,” Wano commented. “How do you fit a child inside? You’re not as tall as Nathan. He can fit two children.” “I think most pregnant people on Earth are usually closer to Jeffrey’s height or shorter actually,” Nathan said. “But I guess you haven’t met many parents here yet, have you?” “You and the fish,” Wano said. He looked at Jeffrey again and nodded. “You are closer to the fish size. I understand. Probably only one baby at a time then. That’s fine.” “I bet I could handle twins,” Jeffrey said, placing his hands on his hips. “No problem.” “Really? That is admirable,” Wano said. “I cannot carry children. I can only plant seeds.” “That’s totally fine by me,” Jeffrey said. “Okay, you know what, I’m really hungry,” Nathan said to try to slow the roll on wherever that conversation was going. “How about we go to the cafeteria now and I can text Dax to meet us there?” “Alright,” Jeffrey said. “Is Wano joining us?” “Of course,” Nathan said. “Wano, could you help me get the twins in their carriers, please?” Wano nodded and went to grab them. Nathan handed Ben back to Jeffrey so he could carry one of the twins while Wano took care of the other. He didn’t have to message Dax as the teacher came strutting down the hall to meet them at the door. “Hello!” he saved waving. “Looks like I’m not too late! Hello, Jeffrey. It’s nice to see you again.” “Hi, Mr. Olivier!” Jeffrey said quickly. “Or, uh, Dax, right?” “Of course! I'm not your teacher anymore. Just call me Dax,” he insisted. “Okay cool. Feels kinda weird but I guess I'll get used to it…” Jeffrey said. “Jeffrey’s cousin can't pick him up until later, so I invited him to have dinner with us,” Nathan explained. “Sounds good. I'll put my book bag down inside and then we can head over,” Dax said. They went down to the cafeteria all together and chose a table to sit at. Nathan left the twins with Dax while he took Jeffrey up to get food first. While they did that, Dax and Wano set up a highchair for Ben too. “The food's really good here,” Nathan said as they lined up. “If you don't have dietary restrictions, it's pretty much a buffet. Desserts are portioned out for the residence, but you can have mine.” “Do I have to pay for any of this?” Jeffrey asked. “No, no. It's free for anyone with entry into the facilities,” Nathan said. “Just tap your APID card at the end over there.” “Cool. Nobody told me there was free food…” “Yeah, it’s great. How old’s Ben? Can he eat solids?” Nathan asked. “Oh, yeah. He's big into Cheerios and yoghurt,” Jeffrey said. “And he’s ten months old.” “Ooh, a birthday soon, nice,” Nathan said. “They should have some options for Ben at the end by the desserts.” “This is pretty cool. I might come here more often,” Jeffrey said. “So uh, where’s Wano from?” “Um, Eclul. He’s Eclulan,” Nathan explained. “Listen, about Wano—” “Are they all purple like him?” Jeffrey asked. “More or less,” Nathan answered. “I’ve seen darker shades, but they don’t really vary in hue like Yulinians.” “Bler’s species wasn’t very different from us,” Jeffrey said. “His skin’s tiny bit green and his eyes are big, but that’s about it. Ben mostly just got his hair and eyes.” “Good for fitting in, I imagine,” Nathan said. “If that’s what your going for anyway.” “Yeah, when I go out grocery shopping with him or something, sometimes little old ladies come up and tell me my son has such beautiful eyes,” Jeffrey said. “But he could’ve also got that from me, ‘cause I used to get a lot of compliments on my eyes. You know, since they’re a little pink.” “They are a really nice colour,” Nathan considered. “Is that the fairy side?” “Ollie says so,” Jeffrey said. He looked back at their table. “I don’t think I could date another Prilarian…” “May be for the best,” Nathan said. “I think the best thing after a bad break up is to have some time to yourself. I didn’t even think I could ever date again after my last break up. But I guess, that was for more personal reasons.” “Maybe… Maybe not,” Jeffrey said. “And I’m thinking about Ben here. He needs a dad.” “Well, is Bler not going to be around at least for his son?” Nathan asked. “Nope. He has to go back to Poland,” Jeffrey said. “He said Canada deported him back there because it’s where he landed and he has a criminal record or something… He doesn’t think it’s worth it to try and fight to come back because he could be deported off planet… Korsy warned me this could happen because it happens a lot to Prilarians since they tend to ignore the law. I just think Korsy hates him. He’s probably the one who got him kicked out…” “Wow, that’s… Well… I don’t really know anything about Prilarians,” Nathan said. “Yulinians seem to be the majority at APID.” “What about Eclulans? Are there a lot of them?” Jeffrey asked. “I think they’re like a far second,” Nathan said. “Yulinians are mostly here to work as ambassadors in their fields but Eclulans are mostly here to make a better life for themselves. The thing is that most of them are pretty stubborn and typically come to Earth under false VISAs because they won’t admit they’re refugees of war on their planet.” “So, they’re runaways?” Jeffrey said. “That’s kinda hot.” “I don’t know about hot, but it means a lot of them get deported,” Nathan said. “Wano himself is in the middle of getting deported which is why we insisted he stay with us so he can see a bit more of Earth before he goes.” Jeffrey frowned. “Oh no… You’re fighting it, right?” “Yeah, but all we could get so far was an extension,” Nathan said. “It seems like he might have to go back to Eclul and reapply to return. It’s hard to know he’ll be safe though if he goes back.” “Oh…” They got their food and headed back to the table. Jeffrey smiled to Wano as the Eclulan got up to get his dinner with Dax. Nathan wondered if Dax was picking up any of this, or if Wano was even aware of how interested Jeffrey was. Jeffrey got Ben out of his carrier and placed him into the highchair. He put out a bowl of dry cereal for the baby to try and Ben seemed more than happy grabbing from it and shoving pieces in his mouth. “What do you do for fun?” Nathan asked as he started to eat. “Play video games mostly,” Jeffrey answered. “I'm starting to stream. I'm hoping I can build up some fans again and make some money. Reggie's helping.” “Again?” Nathan asked. “Yeah. I used to livestream when I was pregnant with Ben,” Jeffrey explained. “People paid to see me getting bigger. They seemed to know before I did that I was pregnant though. I was just trying to gain weight. Turns out I'd been wasting my time since my fairy genes won't allow it. But I got Ben out of it, so there's always that.” “I see…” Nathan said. “So you've stopped making those types of videos?” “Yeah. APID pretty much made me delete my account,” Jeffrey said. “I did give birth to an alien on camera, so they wanted to shut that down pretty quick. I do miss it though. I really enjoyed being big and round and just so tight and full… I was hoping Bler would give me another child but it seems that's not likely…” “You want to get pregnant again?” Nathan asked, a little more worried. “Of course! Don't you?” Jeffrey asked. “Not even a little bit, no,” Nathan said. Jeffrey waved a hand. “That's fine or whatever, but I want to be pregnant again so bad. I loved just how big I was, just waddling everywhere. And I want Ben to have a sibling to play with.” “Don't you worry about that getting in the way of your ambitions?” Nathan asked. “That is my ambition. That's why I want to do the gaming thing,” Jeffrey said. “Gaming is something you can do from home and you don't have to worry if you're pregnant. It's not like there's a boss that needs you in the office or whatever. It's flexible. You're your own boss. You create content whenever you feel like it and make bank.” Nathan wasn't sure Jeffrey was being too realistic. “That's if you get really famous, right? Until you start making that money, if you're supporting a family, you need a day job too. It costs a lot of money to raise children.” “Well, that's why I don't want to do it alone,” Jeffrey said. “The sooner I start dating again, the sooner I find someone who can support myself and my kids. It’d be much harder alone.” Nathan reached over and took Jeffrey’s hand. “Listen. I still think it'd be best for you to take some time to yourself. Process your break up before you jump into anything you'll regret.” Jeffrey frowned and took his hand back. “I appreciate your opinion, but I didn't ask for it.” The others came back at this point but before sitting down, Dax tapped Nathan's shoulder. “Oh, I got the meat lasagna instead of the veggie. I’m gonna go back up. But Nathan, they had your favourite bagels out. Did you see?” Nathan looked up at his partner a bit confused but he saw the insistence in Dax's face and realised he wanted him to come with him. “No, I didn't see. If they're my favourite I should get one.” Nathan got up and grabbed his plate. “We'll be right back.” Nathan and Dax drifted off back over near the buffet and Dax dropped a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on here?” Dax asked. “Are we on a double date?” “Oh god, I hope not…” Nathan sighed. “So, you're getting that vibe too?” “Less of a vibe, more of a big blinking billboard,” Dax said. “Wano has been very explicit about how he'd like to bed Jeffrey and fill him with offspring.” “Ew… Now that Bler's officially dumped him, Jeffrey seems to be ready to jump into bed too,” Nathan said, starting to panic a bit. “I didn’t realise they’d be like this. This is all my fault for inviting Jeffrey to dinner.” “No, no. You were just being nice,” Dax said. “This happens, I guess. They're young. Or, actually… How old is Wano?” “Physically? I don't know. Emotionally, ten. Maybe thirteen, tops.” “Mm, well… They are adults. There isn’t much we can do,” Dax pointed out. “If they both like each other mutually, then it isn’t really our place to try to break them up.” “But if they do get together and they do have a child, what then? From what I know from our group sessions, Jeffrey already barely has the means to support Ben and Wano is literally getting deported. And, I mean it's not breaking them up if they haven't gotten together yet, right?” Nathan said. “It's prevention.” “I think at this point it's breaking them up,” Dax said, pointing past Nathan. Nathan turned around and sighed. Jeffrey had slid around to sit beside Wano and they were feeding each other their dinners. “Fucking hell…” Nathan groaned. “Well, Wano has to stay with you so technically, they shouldn’t really have much of a chance to be alone, right?” Dax said. “And when he's alone in the house, he has to watch the kids.” “You’re right…” Nathan was still a bit unconvinced. “But I’m still worried.” Dax pursed his lips. “Well, if you don't want them to start making out in front of the kids, we should probably get back.” “Yeah.” They rejoined the table and Nathan sat across from Jeffrey now that they were on opposite sides. “Hey, um. Have you let Ollie know you’re here with us?” “Oh, not yet,” Jeffrey said pulling out his phone. “I'll text him now.” “Who is Ollie?” Wano asked curiously. “My cousin,” Jeffrey said as he typed. “I can't drive but he picks me up all the time.” “Cousin?” Wano inquired, unfamiliar with the word. “Yeah. My mother's sister's son.” “Ah. You are blood.” “Yep.” “Wano, you ate all your green beans,” Dax remarked. “Good job.” “They were not disgusting,” Wano said. “Very tolerable.” “I'm glad to hear it,” Dax said. “Yes, Jeffrey made them enjoyable to eat,” Wano said. “He made spaceship noises.” “Oh...” “Shit, it doesn’t seem like Ollie can get me tonight…” Jeffrey interrupted after receiving a text message. “Dax'll drive you then,” Nathan said. “Right, Dax?” “Sure,” Dax confirmed. “I'd be happy to." “‘Kay,” Jeffrey accepted. “You guys are so chill. I always figured teachers were really boring and dusty, but you’ve always been pretty cool, Mr. Olivier. Or, Dax. Sorry.” “No, that's alright and thank you,” Dax said. “Let me know when you're done eating and then we can head out.” “Is there a rush?” Jeffrey asked, sliding his hand onto Wano's knee. Nathan tensed when he noticed. “Well sort of. You know, I have my condition. Too late and it could be dangerous for you.” “Does Wano stay in your room while you guys are living at APID?” Jeffrey asked. Wano shook his head. “I have my own room. It's smaller, but the wi-fi is good and the bed is nice.” “Well, if it gets too late, then I could hang out in Wano's room,” Jeffrey said. “No, no… Uh, doesn't Ben have a bedtime you wanna stick to?” Nathan mentioned. “Yeah, I guess.” Jeffrey patted Wano's leg. “Another time then?” “Yes. You can see my rock collection,” Wano said. “Ooh, are they really hard?” “Yes, they are rocks.”

Blossom

pairings: logan/patton (logicality) (because im trash) words: 2776 warnings: swearing, panic attack, implied toxic parental relationship, mention of an implied suicide attempt, fighting summary: 

blos·som /ˈbläsəm/

verb - to produce flowers or masses of flowers. - to develop in a promising way

Or: the five times Logan couldn’t see the flowers, and the one time he did.

a/n- hello! i hope you are all doing well during this strange quaran-time! i present to you, my first non-golden slumbers flower-related fic (still logicality tho,,, y'all can rip that pairing out of my dead, cold hands :pp). i had a really strange dream last night that had something to do with this concept and hey, you know what i do with dreams :p

i hope you enjoy it ^v^

read on ao3~

---------

dedicated to the one bit of starlight that always remembers to water my garden 

~*~

1. 

Logan was halfway up the porch stairs when Patton mentioned the flowers for the first time. 

“I’m telling you, Lo!” Patton followed Logan into their new house, carrying boxes behind him. “They were little yellow daffodils, just sprouting behind you as you walked! It was so pretty!” 

“Patton, it takes twelve to fifteen weeks for daffodils to bloom after chilling,” Logan said pointedly, setting his own boxes down by an old, tattered couch in the living room. “Besides, even if there were some growing, I would be more concerned that there is something prompting growth underneath our house.”

Patton giggled, putting his boxes down beside Logan’s. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist from the back, going on the tips of his toes to kiss the back of his neck. 

“Our home,” he murmured in Logan’s skin. Logan smiled. 

“Yes,” he said, looking around at their surroundings. “It is...a start.”

“It’ll be more than that soon enough!” Patton chirped, taking Logan’s hand and spinning himself underneath it with a squeal. Logan couldn’t help smile, moving his arm more purposefully to properly spin Patton around until he was standing right in front of him. 

“I’m so happy,” Patton said with a sigh and that lopsided smile; the smile that proved to Logan that he could at least feel love. 

“I am happy that you are happy, dear.” He pressed his forehead against Patton’s and kissed his nose lightly. “Now, we must continue on, or we will be late to the neighbourhood barbeque Janene invited us to.”

“Janene?”

“Our neighbour, remember?” 

Patton made a small ‘ah’ noise and nodded enthusiastically, already skipping past Logan to grab some more boxes outside. 

As he watched him go, Logan sighed; he could definitely love. He could love with all of the love the world had to offer him, for as long as they were offering. He could love the softest, most gentle creature he knew; one who moved with such grace and one whose mind and heart and soul was overwhelmingly admirable.

Yes, he could love him. 

And he loved him. 

- 

“Logan! There’s pink roses on our roof!”

---------

2.

According to Janene, the whole neighbourhood could see the flowers. 

It was a special kind of phenomenon that no one outside the small town of Khloris ever noticed. But if you had a house on its terrain, you apparently had flowers growing underneath your feet. Upon mentioning Patton’s observations at the neighbourhood barbeque, Janene had explained the rumours that it was the land’s way of “observing” or “understanding” its habitants. Whatever that meant.

Logan found it borderline infuriating that no one had pursued further research on the matter; that people just walked around their neighbourhoods, complimenting each others’ seemingly magical gardens.

What was even more infuriating was that everyone just...accepted it. Embraced it, even. As if it was normal to hallucinate flowers growing on vines across your windows.

He was still unable to see these flowers, if they even existed. And while he wasn’t keen on keeping a sense of distrust between himself and his partner (he would have stopped playing along if Patton shared his same view) he couldn’t help but remain skeptical. 

(He would never admit it to Patton, but the reason he had purchased that rather expensive machine off of Amazon was so he could test the contents of the air in certain areas of the town. It didn’t prove anything abnormal, but it was an interesting experiment. 

He read his findings out loud to Patton one night, and Patton listened to every word.

And when Logan left for work the next morning, Patton complimented the chrysanthemums trailing behind him.)

Still, he didn’t have much choice other than to embrace the absurdity floating in their town. Besides, it was mostly harmless. And, more often than not, it served as the backdrop to some of the most joyful moments they had. 

- 

“Why, yellow!” Patton exclaimed as he greeted Logan on the steps to their house. “Someone has an extra poppy in their step today, huh?”

“First of all, I believe you mean ‘hello’; the standard greeting which is first exchanged between individuals seeing each other,” Logan hummed. Then, he leaned over to kiss Patton’s cheek. “Second of all...hello, dearest.”

“Hiya!” Patton giggled. Logan watched as the spot he kissed flushed a soft shade of pink. “How was work?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “It was...very satisfactory.”

“Very satisfactory?” Patton rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, immediately ecstatic. “Not just satisfactory?”

“Mhm.”

“Ooh that and the yellow poppies behind you! You must have good news!” Patton beamed. “Come, come sit with me! Tell me all about your very satisfactory day!”

Usually, Logan would politely decline, telling him that he had to first shower and prepare dinner as he always did after work. And it was almost second-nature to ignore the ever-growing amount of flower observations from Patton. 

But he couldn’t help but oblige upon seeing Patton rush over to their small, wooden porch swing, nearly knocking into his ball of yarn and newest knitting project. That and he did have good news. Very good news, in fact. 

“Tell me about your day first,” Logan insisted as he sat down beside him, setting his briefcase at his feet. “I would rather celebrate a mutual achievement than selfishly intrude with my singular one.”

“Intrude?” Patton nudged him lightly. “Well, you’re not being int-rude if you do! So don’t worry about that kind of intrusion-confusion you’re on about, mister!”

“...did you eat the cookies Janene sent us?”

“Several.”   

Logan shook his head. “She puts too much chocolate in those, you know. And those pastries surpass the recommended amount of sugar one should digest in a day.”

“I know! ”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at how starry-eyed his Patton looked. Patton gently rocked the swing back and forth, then lifted his legs to sit cross-legged on the cushions once it gained enough momentum. 

“Anyway, my day was alright!” Patton chirped. “Had a breakthrough with a client today! It’s been a slow couple of weeks, but I think things are looking up!” 

“That is fantastic news, Patton.” Logan leaned his head against Patton’s shoulder, placing a hand on his thigh and smiling. “You’re doing an exceptional job.”

“Aw, Lo!” Patton giggled again. “You’re gonna make me grow peonies everywhere.”

Second-nature. Logan just chuckled.

“Now! We must celebrate you!” Patton lifted Logan’s head off his shoulder and held his hands into his own. “Tell me everything!”

A pause. Logan felt as if he too was holding his breath.

“Well, do you recall that promotion I recently inquired about at my work?”

Patton’s eyes widened. 

“Shut up.”

Logan broke into a wide grin, finally exhaling as he nodded. Patton squealed, practically lunging at Logan to give him a tight hug.

“Shut up shut up shut uppp!!!”

“Do you...actually want me to–”

“No!” Patton gasped, pulling back to hold Logan in front of him by his shoulders. His grin almost hurt to look at. “Never ever ever shut up!”

“Then why did you–”

“I’m excited, you goofball!” Patton brushed the hair out of Logan’s eyes with a small giggle. “Besides, if I’m shushing anything, it’s the guilty feeling in your head that I can hear from a mile away.

(Fuck. He could love him forever.)

“Be proud of yourself, silly.” Patton wrapped Logan into another hug. Despite being shaken around so much, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. “Gosh, you deserve this so so much– I’m so proud of you.”

Logan’s breath hitched. 

“You…” 

Patton drew himself back ever-so-slightly, leaving a mere inch between him and Logan. He smiled. 

“I’m always proud of you, Logan.” He kissed Logan’s nose, sending a rush of warmth throughout his entire being. 

He then looked down at the spaces between each wooden plank of the porch and smiled. 

“Peonies,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Logan’s. “I’m happy too, Lo. So so so happy.”

---------

3.

“Patton, take a deep breath.”

“He–” Patton gasped, wrapping his arms around himself– “how– I can’t–”

“Patton.” Logan took the phone out of Patton’s hand and held them, squeezing gently. “Patton, let’s sit down, please–”

“Don’t touch me!“ Patton sobbed, pulling his hands back and covering his mouth. Tears rolled down his cheeks and over his hands. He began backing away from Logan. “It’s– I’m a– I’m–”

“Patton–”

“Fuck,” Patton choked out, stumbling past Logan and heading in the direction of their backyard. “I can’t– I need–”

Logan just nodded, carefully catching up to him and clearing out as much clutter as he could so Patton wouldn’t get hurt. He slid open their backyard door for Patton to rush through. 

The cool, evening air hit Logan almost sharply, and he hoped that Patton could feel the same thing. He watched from a hesitant distance as Patton fell to his knees on their grass, folding into himself like a ball and clutching at each strand. 

(He doesn’t need you to make this worse.  "You don’t know how to feel, after all.”)

 “Hey,” Logan finally said. He walked over to the grass and sat a comfortable distance away from Patton. “Is this enough space?”

Patton didn’t lift his head, but he nodded. Logan sighed. 

“...What happens outside your workplace is not your responsibility.”

Patton let out a huge sob; one that felt like it echoed through the whole neighbourhood. 

Fuck. Logan cleared his throat.

“Tell me about the flowers,” he blurted out. Patton lifted his head slightly. 

“The–”

“The flowers,” Logan said again, even less sure of himself. “Tell me what they...what they look like to you right now.”

Patton let out a scratchy laugh. “You don’t believe in the stupid flowers.”

Logan’s heart broke. 

(He didn’t, but he believed in him.)

“Tell me about them anyway,” he said insistently. “I assume they are in our presence, no?”

Patton sighed and, after seemingly deliberating his offer, sat up; his hands firmly gripping the grass they were sitting on. He looked around him, all spacey in that way that used to scare Logan. (It still does, but he at least knows enough about it that it’s not as worrisome.)

Finally, he spoke up. 

“I– I see marigolds,” he whispered. “And– and yellow carnations.”

Logan closed his eyes in thought for a second and then opened them with a sigh. 

“My dear,” he whispered, scooting a bit closer to him. “It is normal to feel grief and disappointment. Those are common reactions to a tragic occurrence such as this. I am so deeply sorry that you have to experience this because you do not deserve this, my starlight.”

Patton curled even more into himself.

“But what is important is that he is still here,” Logan continued. “And I am going to be here to assist you with whatever you need in order for you to cope during this difficult time.”

He watched as Patton took a deep breath; the first one in hours. When he exhaled, he felt as if the air around him grew still and less frigid. 

“I already know with absolute certainty that I will witness you lift yourself up when we make it through this; stronger than you were ever before.” He moved closer to him again. “You did not fail, no – we are simply just trying again.”

A beat of silence. Patton sniffled. “T-There’s purple hyacinths now.”

Logan sadly smiled. A common one with Patton.

“You do not have to apologize.” He patted the space next to him. “I’m here. And so are you.”

Patton sobbed a bit more, but eventually smiled through his tears and curled up in Logan’s lap. Logan held Patton and leaned over to press a kiss in his hair. 

“I got you,” he murmured in his curls. He felt Patton settle into his lap, the tenseness in his shoulders loosening. He ran his hands through his hair, kissing it again and again every few seconds. 

“Forever?” He heard Patton mumble. He smiled. 

“And a little bit after that,” he whispered back. 

And they sat there for a while, underneath the starry skies above them, in what Logan assumed was a sea of yellow and purple flowers. Though, he was never really sure.

- 

Later on, Patton asked him how he knew what each flower meant. And Logan, who would never admit to researching floriography (or to any accomplishment at all), just said it was a coincidence.

---------

4.

Patton rarely got mad; but when he did, Logan could only assume there were petunias everywhere.

“You–”

“Patton, please, not today–”

“NO!” His voice bounced off the walls and hit Logan in the chest. He shut up immediately. “Just...please– please tell me you’re joking.”

Logan averted his glance. “...I had to speak with them.”

“With your parents?! “ Patton screamed. “Who– who haven’t even bothered to call you in the last, what, five years?! “

“Patton, I–”

“You promised you’d never talk to them again,” Patton hissed. “I thought we agreed that– that it’d be wrong to. Because they were miserable people– people who– who made you miserable.”

He stung more than any thorn ever could. Logan tried to imagine some growing through the floors, as if trying to sympathize with what he could be experiencing. Of course he was angry. What Logan did was stupid. And he didn’t even mention the outcome…

“They’re my parents, Patton,” he said instead. He tried to plant his feet to the floor firmly, but Patton’s pacing made him shrivel up where he stood. 

“They are not your parents,” Patton snapped. His breathing was sharp and quick. “Parents–  parents don’t just tell their kid that they don’t have the capacity to feel– parents don’t kick their kid out of their fucking house and– and abandon them and leave them to be fixed by someone else.”

Logan’s breath hitched. 

“I…” He tried not to let it hurt him, but seeing Patton also wince at his own words made him feel somewhat validated in his pain. Still, he stood his ground. 

“I did not ask you to fix me,” Logan whispered, just as sharply; as if to get him back. 

Stupid.

“Logan.” Patton’s voice was even more troubling when it was quiet. “How could you...”

“It’s true.” (Why was he still talking?!) “I didn’t need you to–”

But he never finished. 

Because that’s all it took for Patton to leave.

-

5.

Patton found Logan outside in their backyard, surrounded by roses.

Roses of every colour; yellow, pink, blue, black, and white. The grass underneath his feet was bright green– in fact, everything around him was bright. 

“L-Logan, what–”

And that was when he saw the ring.

“Patton.” It came out as a loud, choked sob. 

Patton took a shaky step towards Logan, who shakily got on one knee.

“What are you…”

To his surprise, Logan laughed. 

“We– we were never really good at appropriate timing, were we?” 

Patton covered his mouth with wide eyes.

“I called my parents,” Logan began shakily, “because I wanted to tell them that I was going to marry you.”

Patton’s breath hitched. 

“You were right,” he continued, wiping his eyes. “Parents don’t do any of the things you had mentioned a-and I know I broke that promise we made out of good intent but…” He sighed. “But they are my parents. And I wanted them to be part of this moment.”

He closed his eyes, almost shamefully.

“Ultimately, it was out of spite, wasn’t it?” He laughed quietly. “In the end, I just wanted to prove to them that I could.”

“C-Could what?”

Logan stood up from his place and smiled. “That I could feel.”

A wide grin spread across Patton’s face.

“Oh, Logan…” He sobbed, rushing over to hold Logan’s hands. He giggled as Logan’s glasses fogged up from him crying, and he reached over to take them off, opting to rest them lopsided on his head. Logan laughed again through his tears. 

“Patton,” he whispered, looking up in his eyes. “I feel everything with you. I– I feel perfect, unadulterated happiness and love when I am with you. I feel joy, I feel peace, I feel...I feel things that I didn’t even know exist– ”

He held Patton’s hands and took a deep breath.

“I feel everything for– for you.” Logan rested his forehead against Patton’s and broke into laughter as their tears fell to the ground. “I want to feel everything with you– the ups, the downs, everything– for the rest of my life.”

---------

1.

And as Patton kissed him, Logan watched as a rainbow of colours blossomed around their home.

One Piece 1000 - 10 Confessions as a One Piece Fan

Although we did the Initial Thoughts a week ago (a long week ago, damn) which you can read here I wanted to do something for the official release of One Piece’s 1000th Chapter At first it started out to be ‘10 things I wanna ask Oda that I don’t think we’ll ever know’ but I couldn’t think of 10, then I was gonna do a General opinion post about it, but didn’t want it to come off too negative. So I am settling on a confessions post, which will have elements of these anyway.

So as we have a happy 1000, let’s talk about some stuff I usually don’t get to talk about in One Piece

Note: There will probably be spoilers so make sure you’re up to date

10. Late Beginnings I think the first confession I have to have is that despite being older than One Piece I am unfortunately not a ‘Day One’ fan. In fact I think I mainly got into One Piece around mid-Whole Cake Island arc, before I had of course known about One Piece, it was a ‘Big Three’ anime after all but the most I knew about it was that they had a guy named Luff-y and another called Zorro, and it was about ‘Pirates who can’t swim’. My curiosity only developed when in a youtube deep-dive of anime clips I kept being recommended One Piece clips, and decided to give a couple a go. Most of them were Paradise arc stuff from the anime, the dub voices were mostly atrocious so I stuck to sub. I was happily surprised about the amount of fun and emotional weight these clips gave me, which led me to check where One Piece was as of current and backtrack from there (Ironically I did the same with Beastars). I did eventually get caught up around the time of the Mafia Meeting and I’ve kept up with each chapter since.

9. I mostly still prefer the Pre-Timeskip looks When I first felt this I thought it to be pretty controversial, nowadays not so much. I understand that Oda wanted to change the look for many characters but some of them did feel like a downgrade. I think the ones who got it worst was Franky, I think it’s the bulbous shoulders, Franky was no stranger to body horror from Enies Lobby to Sabaody but I kinda preferred that he still had a lot of his humanity rather than looking like an action figure. Otherwise I think Robin, Nami and Chopper had it bad, maybe Brook too but his was more fashion than design; the women in general took heavy hits by Oda’s proportion design - I mean I get it boobs are nice but proportions are what make them better - but Robin also underwent a skin color change in the anime, who pre-timeskip shaded her skin darker than in the manga and corrected it to match the manga, I think most of us would’ve preferred Robin to have kept the darker skin tone and possibly even the fringe, Robin’s hairstyle (and her fashion in general) can be hit and miss. I go to and fro about Nami, other than the general waist and bust adjustments I think it fits her character to use her sexuality a bit, she was no stranger to that pre-Timeskip, sometimes though I can’t tell whether I preferred her with short or long hair (Short was definitely better on Nojiko), I do think though that Oda could have her show less skin, she is still very pretty in outfits such as Water 7, Thriller Bark and even her fake pirate disguise in the early chapters/episodes. Finally with Chopper I think it was a bad move to alter the hat, that was a memento from his father figure Hiriluk, it’d be like if Luffy altered his straw hat or Zoro replacing Wado Ichimonji, I do also feel that the design for Chopper’s points while easier to draw don’t look as good, I think a lot of it is the scruff, or lack thereof in favour of smoothness, Walk Point is fine but Heavy Point, Guard Point and Horn Point seem less threatening, Monster Point especially too, in Enies Lobby he looked like a cave painting of menace and destruction, now he’s smoother and his scruff lighter so it’s not as good. The rest of the designs I’m quite fine with though.

8. I wish some markings stuck as well Tattoos and Scars seem to be optional in the One Piece world sometimes, unless it’s branded in molten heat like the Dragon’s hoof, Sun Pirates logo or an attack from Sakazuki. While Nami’s redesigned tattoo has stuck around and Luffy and Zoro’s scars persist, they are mainly character reminders/mysteries for huge moments in the story, and I kinda wish that some of the Straw Hats had littler markings, not just scars either. For instance, the Alabasta X on the arm, I really wish that stayed on each of the Alabasta characters’ arms since it was a symbol of friendship with Vivi, I also wish that Luffy kept the 3D2Y mark on his arm. In terms of scars though it would’ve been nice to see the characters a bit more battle-worn; Zoro’s ankle scars from Mr. 3 have faded and frankly he should be covered in little and long scratches given his fights with Mr. 1 and 2 years of Mihawk Training, Nami’s shoulder scar is hidden completely by her tattoo and she has no scars on her hand (from fake stabbing Usopp) or foot (from blocking Miss Doublefinger), Usopp himself could’ve used some small scratches because lord knows how there’s even still bones in his nose plus he was in murder island for 2 years, Chopper could at least have a small bald patch from when his shoulder was impaled and burned by Shura’s fire lance too, other than that there’s just Jimbei’s potentially missing shoulder scar from Marineford, though Oda has kept it obscured a lot so maybe that is still there. I understand why Oda doesn’t or forgets to, but it would’ve been nice if we lived in a vacuum of no time limits and whatnot.

7. Dead End Adventure is my favourite One Piece film I don’t know what it is, but Dead End Adventure just gives me the most fun out of the One Piece films. It has a good side plot and the side character Shuraiya was a blast of a character. Granted, Gaspard wasn’t too good of a villain side for actually harming the straw hat and his defeat was a bit underwhelming but the race, the settings it was all fun. It is not to say I don’t enjoy any other One Piece movies, I delight in the horror fuel of Baron Omatsuri - and that killer final punch - and Z’s tragic tale of a fallen marine, Strong World has that epic entrance to the party and Stampede also had some great team up moments and fantastic writing for Usopp and Smoker but Dead End Adventure always feels like the movie I could watch in any mood.

6. Skypeia and Fishman Island are some of my favourite arcs While I can understand the criticism of the Long Ring Long Land arc (especially since the anime dragged out the Davy Back Fight) it surprised me that people found Skypeia and Fishman Island arcs to be boring or less entertaining than previous arcs. Everyone has their preferences of course but I felt that Skypeia and Fishman Island were very powerful arcs especially with the theme of racism. Both had glorious setting design different to the common customs of the world we had seen, Oda made both Skypeia and Fishman Island feel very much lived in with its own budding culture and prejudices, with a villain who was dead set on destroying everything just to have their way. With Enel and his priests we were able to push several characters to newer limits, with Robin showing her fighting capabilities, Zoro learning his projectile slashes, Chopper having to endure fighting 3 priests and even Usopp growing all the more braver in the face of seemingly indestructible opponents and later gaining access to the dials. With Fishman Island it was different because it was basically a ‘flex arc’: where the main villain is meant to be a stepping stone rather than a threat but even then the symbolism of the enemy is what’s significant with them, the inherited hatred of humans. But at the same time we do learn new strengths from the crew; Red Hawk, the use of armament Haki, Skywalk, Hell Memories, Franky Shogun, Usopp’s pop greens, Nami’s weather eggs, Brook’s Soul Solid and his new DF power (which is possibly an awakening), as well as the first true steps of Jimbei joining the crew. The biggest strength of both arcs is the flashback as well, like Wano would in present time both arcs demonstrated that Oda can carry a story without his main characters and still keep it as captivating as ever, be it the friendship of Noland and Calgara, the tragedies of Otohime and Fisher Tiger or the life of Kozuki Oden and the man who would be Pirate King. And the impact of Fishman Island and Skypeia’s flashbacks both come back around in Dressrosa with the dwarves and Koala, and Fishman Island really does kick off the whole Yonko saga with Luffy challenging Big Mom, these arcs were definitely significant as they were entertaining with silly faces, strong fights, challenging themes, lorebuilding, good side characters and unique twists. And the overall message of healing from the past is still significant to this day. Through Wyper’s sacrifice and the Bell ringing to Jimbei giving blood and the Ryugu royals wanting to attend the Reverie, it is all very powerful stuff and while the arcs are similar in nature its their similarities that make me love them. Also the cover stories with Enel and Gedatsu on their own mini adventures are fun

5. I really want to know where Ghin is Ghin/Gin was such an interesting character in Baratie. Given that this was right before Arlong Park too so we had not seen a character conflict with different loyalties in One Piece until then, his gratitude to Sanji against his loyalty to Krieg created a fantastically complex character, but then he left and we didn’t hear about him ever since. Did he survive Krieg’s poison gas? Is he still with Krieg? One reactor of the episode said “maybe he’ll become the next Don” which was a concept I kinda really liked. The guy was pretty strong given that he had bested Sanji at that time, and since he didn’t appear in a cover story my mind does wonder. It’s not just Ghin either, a lot of the early East Blue characters kinda fell off the map; where is Morgan? Last we saw he was sleeping as he sailed past Jango, where is Kuro? For someone wanting to resume piracy after some years off he has been very quiet, where is Krieg? Only Arlong and Morgan were arrested and the latter escaped so the rest of these characters are a mystery. Recently in Wano I am still wondering where Law’s crew that he brought to Onigashima went, as well as Caribou - where is that slippery bugger?

4. Basil Hawkins is probably one of my Top 5 Supernova There’s something about that dude I gravitate towards, which makes it quite frustrating when the anime decides to add extra malice and creepy faces to him. Hawkins in Wano is still a victim, if anything he is simply a prisoner with better working conditions, if he thought he could survive escaping Kaido he would but he doesn’t so he won’t, he’s also gonna feel sore about Drake betraying him and letting Law cut him up, so it annoys me that Hawkins is seen like a villain. Not only does he have an extremely interesting Devil Fruit and creativity with it but he’s also audaciously confident in his fortunetelling, even Luffy ran from Kizaru at Sabaody while Hawkins looked at his cards while Kizaru was about to boot him to holy hell and said ‘nah I’m not dying today’, you gotta respect that moxie. At the same time though as a pirate he has that shades of grey element, he’s okay with letting some of his crew be disposable and we don’t even know to what end, he doesn’t look like a guy too concerned about being Pirate King or having riches. I also get a good laugh in that his hobbies are interior design, it makes me really want to see what the inside of his ship looks like. I think as a top 5, I have Luffy, Zoro, Law, Hawkins and then Kid, Bege, Killer and Bonney are not far behind with Apoo dead last because fuck Apoo. Kid and Killer are cool but I do feel like they need a bit more character, Bege earned some points in being funny and his care for his family in WCI and then there’s Bonney - I really hope we dig into Bonney’s significance, she feels really important and that mystery keeps her fresh whenever we see her. Drake too has only really started to become interesting because of SWORD, we could still see more fleshing but for now he is like bottom 3. It’s a shame Urouge has to be so low, he’s not bad but he’s not spectacular either, gotta admire his hobby of lovemaking though, you do you Urouge.

3. I don’t think that either of the ‘Most Beautiful Women in the World’ are the Most Beautiful Women in One Piece The in-world consensus seems to be that the Most Beautiful Women in the World are Boa Hancock, Komurasaki and Shirahoshi, and granted they are very pretty, but the most? Not for me. I mean, y’all know that Nico Robin, Nami and Vinsmoke Reiju exist right? Makino as well is stunning, as are Tashigi, Bonney, Margaret, Ishilly, Nojiko, Vivi, Rebecca, Pudding, Perona, Cosette and I’m sure a few others, realistically I think they could all give them a run for their money. I get how for those three their beauty is a plot point (Boa it’s drilling home Luffy’s obliviousness to it, Komurasaki it’s the swerve of her not being awful and for Shirahoshi it’s due to Vander Decken IX pulling the creep factor on her) but it would’ve worked the same way without the ‘world’ hyperbole I think. As much as Oda is iffy with proportions and rarely writes women with as much attention as the boys he sure knows how to make them attractive.

2. Some of my favourite individual Straw Hat scenes aren’t in Canon If I were to have a top 5 moments of each character, it may surprise you that some of it comes from movies or filler episodes, particularly Sanji’s flexing on Jessica in the G8 Arc (in fact, Jonathon is one of my favourite marines, T-Bone is in there too, but I don’t have room to fit that). Some are of course obvious because of how iconic they are but it does go to show that sometimes filler isn’t all bad. Since you’re probably curious: As a Group Goodbye Merry [Enies Lobby] Entering Shiki’s Palace [Strong World] Walk to Arlong Park [Arlong Park] Entering the Grand Line [Reverse Mountain] vs a Stuck Oars [Thriller Bark] Jimbei Giving Luffy Blood [FMI] Vagabond Drill on Big Mom [WCI] Leaving the Big Mom Pirates [WCI] Returning in Wano [Wano] Trying to argue with Luffy [FMI] Brook vs Chess Soldiers & Big Mom [WCI] Flashback [Thriller Bark] Breaking Mother Carmel’s Picture [WCI] Baron Corpse vs Dog Minks [Zou] Hysterically laughing at seeing Duval [Sabaody] Franky vs Senor Pink [Dressrosa] Playing with the Kids [Punk Hazard] vs Fukurou [Enies Lobby] Freedom Roller [Wano] Trapping Caribou in the Barrel [FMI] Robin  I Want to Live [Enies Lobby] Clutching Spandam [Enies Lobby] Throwing Usopp under the bus [G8] vs Yama [Skypeia] Clutching Tequila Wolf guards [Amazon Lily] Chopper Monster Point [Enies Lobby] Flashback [Drum Island] Chopper Man (& Minoru Kazeno) vs Usobada [Chopper Man Special] Don’t blow the whistle: Immediately blows whistle [Skypeia] Dr Chopper the definitely Human Doctor not wearing fake glasses [G8] Vivi w/ Karoo (she counts okay!) Goodbye speech [Alabasta] Escaping Bon Clay [Alabasta] Karoo Digging Luffy Out [Little Garden] Luffy Fan Club Meeting [Reverie] Slapping Usopp awake [Drum Island] Nami vs Kalifa [Enies Lobby] Standing by the kids [Punk Hazard] Saying goodbye to Bell-mere [Arlong Park] Helping Luffy vs Cracker via Lola’s Vivre Card [WCI] Luffy WILL be Pirate King [Wano] Sanji ‘I needed a light’ [Skypeia] Flexing on Jessica [G8] Saving the Vinsmokes [WCI] O-Soba Mask [Wano] vs Doflamingo [Dressrosa]  Usopp Alabasta speech [Alabasta] Awakening Observation Haki [Dressrosa] Sogeking Theme Song [Enies Lobby] vs Perona [Thriller Bark] Saving Luffy from the fire [Stampede]  Zoro Nothing Happened [Thriller Bark] vs Ryuma [Thriller Bark] vs Mr. 1 [Alabasta] vs Gyukimaru & Kamazo [Wano] “He’s sweeping our floors that fiend!” Test of Luck [Loguetown] Luffy ‘On the Sea, you fight Pirates’ [Wano] Red Roc [Wano] vs Katakuri [WCI] Haki clash with Doflamingo [Dressrosa] Punching Saint Charloss [Sabaody] I will have to say that for some characters I could go to 20 so if one’s missing it may’ve just missed the mark, such as Usopp and Nami vs Enel or Luffy putting back a Zombie or Stealth Luffy, I mean it is 1000 chapters as well as movies and filler episodes/specials...

1. I’ve learned quite a lot due to One Piece Since my fascination started with a deep dive of checks, I did start to learn a hell of a lot more not just about the franchise itself (you know it’s almost catching up BATMAN on total sales, which has been around more than 3 times longer?) but I also learned a lot about stuff Oda has used as a reference key; folklore, actual pirates, actual practices, the amount of detail Oda puts in is astounding. Which does lean into another thing I’ve learned, One Piece has changed the way I approach some of my ideas for writings and whatnot, before I would be afraid of either spoonfeeding or being too vague, Oda’s mastery not only in storytelling but character development, character quality and pacing has both helped and intimidated me a lot of times, I mean consider this: it took hundreds of chapters to get a proper backstory on Luffy, the main character, how unprecedented is that? Often I could fall into the trap of making sure you knew everything about the main character from day one but now I wonder about what’s necessary for the now and what can I work on. Another thing that both inspires and intimidates me is his drawing, I suck at colours and still do, and a lot of Oda’s attention to detail is incredible considering he’s gotta whip that out on the weekly, but at the same time you see some of his rough sketches and they’re pretty similar to a rough sketch of my own, so in a way it’s a ‘there’s still hope for you’ moment seeing those. I can’t say I’ve learned Japanese from listening to One Piece, but I have picked up on some stuff, some hiragana there, some phonetics here, I also appreciated some of the stuff kaizokuou-ni-naru does (I won’t tag them in case that’s a bit rude to do it out of the blue but check out their tumblr) when it came to deciphering the Japanese of chapters and the little puns and hints Oda puts in his native tongue. And of course any One Piece fan has learned one thing above all else: Patience. Oda himself included, it took over 20 years to get to 1000 chapters and we still have plenty of questions to ask, plenty of islands to see and thus plenty of chapters to go. So Straw Hats off to you Oda, and a happy 1000th!

reasons why i’m a bad boyfriend | t . oikawa ( haikyuu )

pairing : tooru oikawa x f!reader

genre : fluffy crack

taglist : comment to be added ! c : ( specifiy if you’d like to be thrown into some haikyuu general taglist or just oikawa , i dummy heehee ) 

notes : my first post here is oikawa & it’s ironic cuz i wanna highkey punch him . n e ways i hope u all like this ! < 3 pls leave feedback if u want ! also kinda vaguely mentioning reader is a girl at the very last paragraph so if any bois wanna enjoy this i’m sure it’s possible aaa -- i promis i usually write it gender neutral

You didn’t care much for Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he was a famous setter, known as the Great King, even, but as someone who hardly cared for volleyball, you just didn’t see the appeal. It’s not just that, you were in the same class as him since the first year, so seeing him nearly every day in class just gave him that tinge of ordinarity that you supposed his fangirls never saw. He was just a guy and, honestly, you couldn’t care less. Apart from your friend Hajime’s occasional complaints and a few volleyball games you were forced to attend, you didn’t see or hear much of Tooru. Fortunately, or unfortunately, actually, you couldn’t decide, that changed in the middle of the second year. Hajime approached you one day, took your hands in his and, with the most determined face you’ve ever seen, asked you to tutor Oikawa Tooru.

“Please, I can’t stand him anymore,” you vaguely recalled him say. “You’re the top of our class when it comes to English anyways, please help him fix his failing grade. If he’s too much, you can stop, but could you try?”

Hajime looked tired and his eyes were almost pleading, and, being your righteous self, of course you couldn’t deny his request. So, you nodded, asking him to introduce you to Tooru in order to figure something out. It was fairly easy, because you soon found that the talented setter was very easy to talk to; he wasn’t awkward and more-so on the charismatic side, which made your work a lot easier. He was willing to study, too, your little study dates were never bothersome for you. Eventually, the small talks during your study date breaks turned into a small bond and the time you shared outside of studying together became more frequent. You could go as far as saying you became friends and much to your disbelief, there was a voice in the back of your head that kept telling you how nice it would feel if you were enveloped in his embrace. You tried to drown that out, blaming your weird thoughts on how strong his arms looked. He was your friend, it was odd to think of him in such a light, after all.

Currently, though, you were alone at his house, trying to teach him the most basic vocabulary. It seemed to be oddly difficult this particular day, as he was distracted for some reason. You weren’t any better, really, it was hard to concentrate when you were alone at Tooru’s, your heart couldn’t help but speed up, but through you blaming it on his popularity, you managed to dismiss it and keep yourself in check. He, on the other hand, was driving you insane with how bothersome he was being, that you just couldn’t help but push yourself away from his desk and stand up, an exasperated sigh leaving your mouth.

“I’m going to get myself a glass of water.” You said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “You’re being super annoying, so get it together while I’m downstairs, yeah, Kawa-chan?”

Unbeknownst to you, he could hardly contain his blush whenever you called him by that silly nickname you thought of, even if you’ve already called him that a million times by now. Saying the nickname out loud made you a little bit flustered lately, too, but it was the norm for you, so you kept it up. Luckily for you, you were able to scurry away downstairs for your glass of water. Hands moved up to your cheeks in order to demolish the incoming red as you approached the kitchen. You didn’t want to admit that you probably had a thing for him, but your body was working against you. Perhaps you took a minute too long to drink your glass of water, the dread of the concept of ever liking Oikawa Tooru that creeped into your bones preventing you from anticipating coming back to his room. He was known to be a flirt, a popular lady’s man, the last thing you needed was to get a crush on someone like him.

“Jeez, calm down, you’re just study friends.” You muttered to yourself, making your way back to Tooru’s room so he wouldn’t think you died on his kitchen floor with how long you were taking. “Besides, Iwaizumi is leagues better…”

The house was relatively quiet with you two studying alone, so you were naturally a bit befuddled once you heard talking coming from Tooru’s room. There was no one else here, so at first you thought he might’ve picked up a call, but the closer you got, the clearer the words became and the more you wanted to bash your skull into the nearest wall.

“Wait, wait, wait, stop scrolling! Here’s some reasons why I’m a bad boyfriend.” You could make out Tooru saying and your entire body screamed for you to run in there and kick him for focusing on what you presumed was Tik Tok, of all things, rather than willingly studying. You wondered if making this one damn Tik Tok was what was on his mind all this time and it made you even more frustrated.

“Reason number one, my lips are kind of too big, so, um, you might drown when I kiss you.”  He chuckled as you cringed. Peeking through the door proved that he was, indeed, in the middle of creating a Tik Tok. He sat cross-legged on the floor, phone in hand and camera pointed at his huge mirror that you could only assume was used for admiring himself and boosting his ego in order to pretend he totally didn’t have the flattest ass in all of Seijoh.

Tooru was cute, you could admit, and he was charming, and very skilled when it came to volleyball, but, god, he was perhaps the stupidest boy you’ve ever met. You physically couldn’t listen to this anymore.

“Reason number two-”

“Oikawa Tooru!” You shouted, stomping into the room, successfully stopping his Tik Tok and making him yelp in surprise. “The only reason you’d be a bad boyfriend is because you have absolutely nothing in that stupid head of yours, so get back to studying! Jeez, who even says stuff like that in front of a camera?”

Groaning disappointedly, he stood up and sat back down, pouting like a child who has just been told to stop playing and go to bed. You could only shake your head at his antics, sitting down next to him and looking over the work you still had to do. With how slow you were working earlier, it wasn’t a surprise that there were still many tasks to do and it agitated you. You considered time spent with Tooru mostly fun, but too much of him wasn’t good for you. Mentally, most of all, because you could feel your own brain melting sometimes with the things he said and the tone he used, but he also had some sort of effect on your heart that you loathed. He didn’t have to do much to make it speed up; was that one of his talents, or were you just completely useless?

“Seriously, were you expecting to find a girlfriend over Tik Tok?” Shaking your head, you picked your pen up, ready to do more work. “That’s low, even for you.”

“You’re breaking my heart y/n-chan!” He whined, throwing his elbows onto the desk and leaning his face on the palms of his hands. “Are you jealous I’m not trying to get together with you, hm?”

Ready to deny his claims completely, you turned to face him, only to see him slowly inching closer to you. You nearly let out a strangled yelp at this sudden development and closeness, choosing to recline further in your chair in retaliation, and instead of stopping, he persisted. While your head became blank, his began flooding with thoughts, especially after noticing the faintest shade of red coming onto your slightly puffed out cheeks. As Tooru blinked, he couldn’t help but think; were you really jealous? In fact, did you like him?

He enjoyed that concept, though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud.

And although you weren’t jealous of the maidens who’d swoon over him on Tik Tok and angry he just wouldn’t focus on his studies, him leaning in like a total weirdo made your guts churn. It was sweet, but so sickeningly sweet that you hated it. You wanted to go back to studying, but with how nothing in your brain worked, all you could do was move your hand to the desk as he stared intently at you, your fingertips brushing against a notebook that you aimed to grab.

I don’t like you, Shittykawa!

Whacking the top of his head with the notebook you grabbed proved useful, as he instantly backed away with an ‘ow!’, clutching his head in his hands and pouting. You felt a bit bad, but at least your heart had calmed down the second he wasn’t all in your face. Eyes moved to give Tooru a small glance and could clearly see the exasperation his squinted eyes and pouty lips expressed.

A sigh escaped your mouth and your brows furrowed. “Are you ready to get back to studying now, dummy? Stop acting like you have no common sense! You’ll fail your class!”

It was true that you picked up the exasperation in his features, but as you got back to forcefully explaining vocabulary and grammar rules, you missed the mischievous grin making way to his face. He was more than sure now that you liked him to some extent. Whether you knew it yourself or not, the way your cheeks heated up and your body stilled in embarrassment gave it away.

Tooru opted to stare at you and visualize you on a date with him, instead of focusing on the English you so desperately tried to teach him. If he failed his class, then so be it! He was just glad he could stare at your focused face for a second longer.

You might’ve interrupted the making of his Tik Tok today, but he swore you’d make it up to him by helping him make a cute girlfriend check some time.

Dragon’s Draught

When you ask the right questions of the wrong people, they’ll often give you answers. A yes to something they should say no about, a no when you have a wise doubt about what they instruct and influence.... and a comforting smile when you’re suffering the worst of their suggestions.

Talin had learned this later than some, an almost accomplished mage student of Sinthir Tower. A childhood not worth much talk, she had proven she had a handle on magic early and been whisked away from home by a Magus in need of Apprenticeship. Pondering long and hard she wouldn’t tell you of her heritage or how she was discovered, or why a Lady would’ve done for a Magus’ apprentice. You make yourself, she’ll remind you, by the choices that get you to who you become. There are wiser choices than interrogating people that can handle magic, too. Especially when they chose to switch over to the school of alchemy.

“Not like ye to make threats, Lass.” The brawny keep at the border bar commented to the former apprentice, she was not the kind of rambunctious beauty he was used to seeing. He knew better than to press a mage though, and further better than to test an alchemist with a bad attitude. “I was just wanted to know why i’was ye wore a hood inside, wasn’ trying to make trouble of a question. More like thems rogues and ugly to hide in them own shadow.”

“I suppose you’re dying to know if I’m ugly.” The bitterness was present, but her voice was infuriatingly sweet with the snarl. She could tell it wasn’t quelling his curiosity and for once she was unhappy that her usual half-past noon drink was taken in an empty exile bar. “I’m not.”

“I don’t expect ye to be, ye’re slender and ye move with the grace of any graduate Mage. Never met an ugly Mage before. Few weird ones, them’s that were the type took a Dragon’s Drink for a reason or another.” His face was intently pointed away from her as he worked a cleaning rag into a mug. He even pretended her sharp gasp went unnoticed by giving an experienced shrug and turning his back. “Weird doesn’t mean bad. There’s good reasons and bad reasons both to drink the stuff.” 

“What do you know of good and bad reasons for a Draught...” Muttered into her drink, hood still pointedly covering all but her lips. Plump they were. he thought. Flush with drink and aggravation. But they were very carefully all she showed of herself. Hid under that hood, clearly enchanted to stay shading her from head to toe. Seemed silly to drink something as drastic as a Draught and then hide, to him. 

“Ye can’t hide the smell of it, no matter how careful ye are with the cloaks. I know the Wolf Drink,  i’was what they had me on.” Admission given to her muttering, and a grin over his burly shoulder at how she let out a recognizable whimper. Wolf men were reputably dangerous among folks. Damn shame in his opinion, he never even meant to drink a wolf and make a monster of himself. His laugh bellowed at how she hurried to drink her ale, bemused that she prioritized it over trying to run away. Odd Lady Talin always had seemed to him though. “Most lass’ll sprint right through the door when they realize. Now I know you took a drink you weren’t suppose to.”

“Drink I shouldn’t have been given, it wasn’t what I wanted from what I had asked for. Didn’t know enough to know better.” She was defensive now, desperately twirling him back into her circle of non-acknowledgement. He’d already gathered she’d been taken into Sinthir a young and dewy lad. Prettier than most Magus apprentices were expected, pretty even before the graduation. Pretty enough she fell prey to the Traedurin alchemists no doubt, promised they had the answer to help her change what she didn’t love about herself. 

“I’ll agree with ye. Traedurin mages and alchemists are twisted in the head, they think they understand things better enough to make choices wrong for people that don’t know better.” He nodded patiently, thoughtfully. Appreciating that she hadn’t flown loose of the bar. She couldn’t have been much older than him, looking at her and listening to the tremble of her voice still denying that what they’d done and influenced was still what had happened to her. Irreversible as if it had been her own informed choice, there was no unmaking the changes a Draught put the body through. The lucky folk got subtle things, as he had. Brawn he’d never had before, teeth too sharp, nose too keen, eyes lighter than gold. It was hard for folks to tell whether he was strong enough to lug the kegs or if he was strong because he did. He had the inkling she hadn’t been so lucky and got such subtle hints of her changing.

“They make stupid choices with smart people is what they do.” Grumbled from under the hood, thing still stubbornly positioned to conceal her. Still an agreeable word there. They fell into a silence past that statement, she soaking in the bar keep as he busied himself organizing mugs and bottles. Noticing where he wasn’t quite human anymore under the billow of his tunic before she finally decided to speak again. “It was when they told me I’d have to be a Magus to graduate. Sinthir wouldn’t allow me to ascend as a Mage. It was too late to transfer over to the alchemists at Erfersi that year, so I left my apprenticeship and went to the capital to work for the public. Was trading blessings and wards to farmers. An almost graduate is as good to them as a proper Mage, and their food was fresher than I got in the tower anyway.”

“A public magic user is a Traedurin Alchemist’s wet dream, lass.” Sympathetic in his tone, the entire country of Traeduros produced a population that was widely received as mental when not outright putting effort into being violent or manipulative. They were usually responsible for crafting the morally unsound and otherwhere illegal substances known as Beast Drinks and Draughts, transformative elixirs that could augment a human with the power or appearance of animals, though they rarely gave a human both the power and the appearance and often enough they could go horribly wrong and disfigure more than augment. Trick potions mostly, sound minded people wouldn’t drink them.

“Isn’t it? So I was. Unhappy and easy prey for their ‘magic’. Their ‘solution’.” There was a hiss under her voice, a certain raspy flair as she sprung off the bar seat and onto her feet... feet he now noticed as what some would call disfigured. She stood balanced on specially crafted shoes, but he could see that three inhumanly shaped toes were bound in the rough shape of a human foot and strapped carefully to a wedge. A flex of those toes broke her free of the meticulous binding to reveal that the flesh of her feet was stain blue, and she put a hand to hip under her cloak before she pulled back the hood and unveiled herself, ale helped defiance in her gaze. It was to his merit that the less obvious Draught Beast didn’t laugh. 

Talin stood defiantly poised on those draconic feet, loose pantaloons not managing to conceal how her bones were twisted to accomplish the strength and dexterity expected of an upright drake. Her waist was bare up to the chest, a vest fitted neatly and decorated in what he felt were comically small pockets, though only because she herself was petite. Petite, flat framed, and lean with muscle all the way through her arms and down to her clawed digits. The barkeep was unduly fascinated that her augments were so symmetrical and functional, almost distracted enough by them to ignore her face until she snapped her fingers and leaned forward toward him. Downright impish in the face! She had vibrant silver markings against the blue tint of her skin, cheeks cut high into her expression and a jaw drawn sharp and low. Slender to add to how small she already seemed, but adorned with perhaps the most intense stare he’d ever tried to meet. Her irises were the palest tint of green almost glowing through the ink black of her eyes, and her pupils were feline slits within them. This under her arched brow and paired with her still human nose under a mane of half-kempt iridescent hair gave her the look of a particularly spunky demon in his opinion.

“Yers wasn’t as subtle as mine.” Managed and uttered from him, his lips curled in an approving grin to look at her without her cloak. “Certainly aren’t ugly either, ye were right about that. Never seen the Drink change colors like you have.”

“Supposedly had to do with me being able to use magic.” A flair of the stuff, just a glimmer of it moving through her skin as more markings similar to those on her face. “It leaves a permanent mark on the body, any Mage will admit. But the Draught brought mine out.”

“I think it’s good it did, Lass. Ye shouldn’t have to live under the cloak for it either.” Advised as she was clearly weighing the options of putting the thing back on and assessing how horribly she’d damaged her shoes. “Might be that how ye look now is how ye find out who ye’re going to be.”

It was twelve days past taking her cloak off that she decided not to put it back on.

It was a month after that she enrolled with the Alchemist’s guild, a celebrated student of Erfersi graduating after only a year of study.

It was a week after that when Rhaekson spotted her, an obvious draconic body, and gave her responsibility of a newborn in a quiet plea in front of the same border bar.

The same barkeep helped her find a path and a hollow tree to raise the child away from humans when it’s blood mother decided to forfeit several towns.

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Squido!

Commission:  I haven't and don't really intend to. I don't want to take anyone's hard-earned money. Just ask me to draw things and there's a good chance I will.

Social Media:  Tumblr: @sky-squido​ AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido/pseuds/sky_squido

Tell us a little bit about yourself!

Call me Squido! I love to draw and write but I'm also super extraverted and I love interacting with humans so always feel free to chat with me! Aside from drawing and writing, I just love being outside and have a tumblr sideblog dedicated exclusively to nature photos I take. I love mountains, the ocean, the sky, and just about everything else in this beautiful world of ours! If you ever feel like having an internet stranger give you a thousand word rant, ask me why my favorite color is blue and you will not be disappointed!

What got you into creating? what inspires you to keep creating?

I've been drawing for as long as I can remember and can't seem to stop, though I take long breaks sometimes I always seem to come back to it again. I try not to have anything in mind when I draw, but to start sketching and let the drawing happen. Sometimes I find that what I'm trying to draw is not what my drawing wants to be (if that makes any sense) and change what I'm making halfway through. It makes drawing a really relaxing and carefree therapeutic experience! Writing is different. I've always enjoyed writing, but I didn't write much and never shared my writing with anyone because I thought it was super pretentious. It wasn't until entering High School and joining the literature club and making a deal with a friend that we'd share our writing with each other that I actually gained any sort of confidence in my ability and sought to improve it. Being in that club and sharing my pieces at the open mics was a really encouraging experience! I invite everyone to share their writing, even if it's with some random internet stranger (I'm open anytime!) if they're unsure of their abilities. A little encouragement goes a long way! Now that I'm on Discord, ao3, and tumblr, I receive so much more feedback than I ever have before! It's been super encouraging! What inspires me most is definitely nature. Even if my ideas aren't directly related to the outdoors, I get my best ideas there. Fandoms are also a great idea generator. The sheer volume of headcanons and prompts is enough to make me dizzy with ideas!

What's your creative process like?

I love sketching. My favorite thing about drawing digitally is that I can sketch as much as I like and never worry about wasting materials! Often times my sketches turn themselves into drawings without permission and other times they stubbornly remain sketches for all eternity. I always dive right in because I have no patience and the idea I started out with generally isn't that great but in the process of pursuing it, it spirals out of control and sometimes the idea gets better and sometimes it gets worse but I just kinda roll with it. Creating is a really chill process for me and while I regularly scream stuff like "I'M DRAWING ON THE WRONG LAYER NONONONONONO" or "NO HECK FRICK SHOOT IT SMUDGED HECK HECK GET THE ERASER QUICK," the creative process is a great way for me to unwind. I'm the same way about writing. I never plan or outline and just kind of roll with things. I mean I generally have the basic jist in mind, but I try to not have a plan so I can keep the story driven by the characters and not force them into acting the way I wanted them to in the outline I made hours or even days ago. Creating is my opportunity to break free so I don't really see what good a plan or outline does me. I'm a pretty spontaneous person!

What kind of mediums do you like to use?

I like to take pictures, but it's not really my main focus. I've been mostly digitally drawing—I use my iPad Pro and Procreate—but lately I've been pencil sketching with just your average everyday mechanical pencil (I'd forgotten how nice the texture of paper was! Clearly I spent too much time drawing on my iPad!). I have these Stabilio chalk pastels I love to pieces, but have also spent a great deal of time with watercolors. Digital is my primary medium currently, though.

Is there a specific scene wrote that you are particularly proud of?

"Sky’s golden scales are glowing with reflected light from the sun while beneath them, the same pulsing blue in her mane runs like a river as her very skin is alive with electricity. The sun’s beginning to dip, fading through the color wheel from yellow to deep orange to scarlet and the world is bathed in watercolor and hue shifted through the rainbow until all that was blue becomes red. This new alien world begins to darken as red fades to deep purple-pink, the clouds catching last vestiges of gold in their pillowy folds, yet Sky continues rippling with lighting, the bright blue flowing like blood through her veins and the gold shimmering in the eerie azure glow. We weave through the winds and zephyrs and I close my eyes and let the breeze caress my hair and when I reopen them, I’m standing back on the ground again in a world long since darkened by night. I place my hand over my beating heart where Sky is still laughing with joy and smile because once you’ve awakened your dragon, you don’t need wings to fly anymore."

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing or art?

Every fanartist and fanfic writer that posts their stuff online is an inspiration to me. Even if their stuff isn't very good—especially if it isn't very good—it's a huge testament to the courage of the creator and their bravery in expressing themself! I sat on fanfic and fanart for years and never shared it and here were kids half my age putting out art that was their first experiment in a new medium and a little shaky but it was still out there and they were still being supported by the community and that really inspired me to reach out and stop lurking in fandom and actually get involved!

is there something that you struggled with that made you grow as a creator?

I feel like everyone has these periods where they were just gaining confidence in their artistic ability but suddenly everything they make is trash and they're not happy with any of it and they feel so down and worthless and "where did all of my hard-earned ability go? Will I ever get it back?" I think this is a pretty common experience and when I find myself there, I find it most helpful to share what I make anyway, even if I hate it, with someone who I know will give it to me straight because they'll point out the deeper problems—the root of the issue—that I hadn't even noticed and I can use that information to grow as an artist. Bad pieces are just as valuable as good ones. There was also a time where I had a lot of trouble developing a style. I did a lot of experimenting and never found anything I liked. What happened is I just kept drawing and whatever popped out eventually evolved into my style. I used to get frustrated that I couldn't draw anything without a reference, but after years and years of using references and drawing some of the same things over and over again, you won't need the references anymore. I mean, they're great and you should always feel free to use them, but over time, you won't need to look up a picture of every little thing you try to doodle.

What got you into writing or art?

My silly twitchy fingers can't ever seem to stop drawing! Same with writing. Words and ideas follow me around, little plot bunnies pestering me until they get written down somewhere. I was greatly inspired by the works of C.S. Lewis in my writing, especially his Cosmic Trilogy. My art style was aided by Hiromu Arakawa's Fullmetal Alchemist, which was a valuable stepping stone in developing my own style. Other than that, it was my own insatiable desire to MAKE THINGS that spurred me onwards. I don't think I could stop if I tried!

What's your favorite part of the creative process?

After you've got that first paragraph and you've found a flow and you've got a topic and you just GO. I get into the zone and the story starts happening on its own and I'm not an author anymore, I'm just a channel between the world of the piece and the page. That's my favorite. I love watching things take shape. I love shading a sketch for these same reasons. The whole drawing comes together and becomes A Thing and it's the most exciting time to be a creator. Something else inside you has taken over and you're just along for the ride. I have no idea if my experiences are common at all but this is what it's like for me!

What's your least favorite part of the creative process?

EDITING. I HAVE ZERO PATIENCE. THE THING IS DONE. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING AT IT. CAN I POST IT YET. This leaves me with a lot of holes in what I make and I can't do a very clean, super detailed drawing unless it's for an art class and I'm forced to keep working on it. I have a terrible habit of never proofreading my things!

What's your favorite type of scene to write?

AAH hard question! I love writing description and places where I can really let my inner 19th century romantic be unleashed but I also love a good emotional moment between two characters. Something tense. I like fight scenes, but I try to keep them brief and interesting. Sometimes I find scenes where I have no idea what's going on and I try to avoid that, but it's really hard sometimes.

What's the hardest for you to create?

I have so much trouble with endings. I can generally figure something out, but there's always a moment of panic before the end like "heck I wrote everything I wanted how do I wrap this up????" That's probably a byproduct of me planning nothing XD I sometimes have trouble with characterization and making sure everyone acts the way they actually would. The hardest part is continuing after you have an "oh heck what do I do now" moment that breaks you out of your zone and all of your ideas and plot threads turn invisible or evaporate or go wherever it is they go when you're looking for them.

What's your favorite genre to write?

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. Wellll... scratch that. I love something adventure-y and plot driven with a lot of really meaningful character interactions. I've always had trouble putting my writing into genres, but I guess that kind of speaks for itself in a way.

What fandoms do you enjoy creating for?

Linked Universe is the fandom I have created and posted the most for by a LONG SHOT. I found LU shortly after making my tumblr and I joined the Discord shortly thereafter. Since then, it has been nonstop inspiration and creativity for me! I tend to get sucked into one fandom and it consumes me for a few months before I silently drift out of it and never think about it again. LU is the fandom I've been the most active in EVER though—and it's still going—so there's a good chance I'm never getting off this ride.

What's the work you are most proud of?

AAAAAAAAAAH MY BABIES. okay um here's the first and only fanfic I've ever posted anywhere but I'm really happy with: https://sky-squido.tumblr.com/post/618964544219463680/turn-back-time-a-linked-universe-fanfic I have a lot of other pieces kicking about, but they're not fandom so I haven't shared them yet. I probably will after I touch them up a bit.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Not really? I don't really know where my ideas come from to be honest!

Where do you post your finished works?

my tumblr. I tag stuff #squido writes and #squido draws so you can find them easily. I also put them on the discord but they get lost in the stream of other works pretty quickly so stick to my tumblr. I also have an ao3 now! https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido

If you have any fun stories about the pieces you made, please do share!

Turn Back Time was actually live written in the Discord, but entirely unplanned and in the #angst channel! It was just a headcanon but then I started describing it and like 2 hours and 5k words later I'm sitting in the Discord like "what just happened??"

decathect | jjk (1)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au? || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.7k parts:  1 / ? | next » cw: uhh kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair so that deserves a warning on its Own i say

note: so,,, this was supposed to be a short fic bc i wanted my heart broken but it turned into a drabble series……………….we’ll see how that goes!!! rip

You’ve heard of him from your friends, and from their friends: about the infamous Jeon Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. He’s, first and foremost, an art major — and an excelling one at that. In the short three years he’s been an undergrad, his work has been featured, so far, in a total of 4 major art exhibitions. His displayed work apparently sells rather quickly, too, which surely earns him more than enough money to successfully continue his various artistic endeavors and out-of-uni activities. You’ve heard he’s also into tattoos, boxing, and photography on the side, for example. Whether it was true or not was not something you focused on, but considering his friends were they ones telling the tales, you didn’t doubt it. Not that you thought of it often, or at all, really.

What you did question was why exactly he felt the need to stop by Taehyung’s very own, very private, and very expensive Goghrik’s Vancrylics paint collection to use instead of his own. You didn’t want to think him as cheap because, quite frankly, you knew nothing more than those whispered rumors and offhanded comments Jimin and Yoongi perpetrated on occasion. So, you settled for thinking nothing until you could get concrete answers. 

For a long time Jungkook remained a simple ghost, until finally one day he just existed. Everywhere, and then, always. As if meeting him once meant he’d open the door to your home to welcome himself as an indefinite guest, you suddenly had no week free of his presence or his trace. Like a growing avalanche you learned about him with repeated increase, sometimes by choice, and sometimes by mere coincidence. Maybe it was pure coincidence, too, how you came to fall for him — for Jeon Jungkook, the artist, the fuckboy. With time though, you came to a different understanding.

Liking Jungkook was no coincidence.  It was a curse – a long, and tediously everlasting hex you’d so far failed to get rid of.  

And it all started, you begrudgingly admit sometimes, with some paint and very little luck.

Being in one of the most prestigious Universities in the country naturally means you consistently face the demon of a huge – nay, an enormous campus. A wide lake rests between dispersed buildings while Hi-Q food marts border each cluster of separate dorms, connected all entirely by desire paths and concrete roads. It's no surprise then that a map is the standard gift given to all entrance students, though by now you’ve memorized practically all zones you inhabit (i.e. the Natural Sciences’ Atrium, the Physics Department, and your own dorm). Most people still use theirs, along with the mandatory transportation fare card Admissions urges all newcomers to get. More than anything it’s a must-have for anyone who wants to actually make it on time to class — more so when they’re not blessed with taking courses on a near-by group of Departments.

And it just so happened you’re amongst those ill-fated few.

For four years now you’ve been a resident of Dorm C, exactly the furthest of the dorms from the NS Atrium. Instead you’re — uselessly — at a walking distance from the Plastic Arts department, a place you’ve ventured to for only a single semester back in your second year. Back then you had decided that taking Pottery was a great way to fill in some of your electives, an idea which mostly Taehyung, an art major himself, cemented in your head. You remember nothing of your treks to the department, nor of the lessons you received, but your memory often recalls it happened whenever you visit him. Your final project, a 2-piece set of misshapen cups of tea, still rests atop one of his many bookshelves to this day. Taehyung calls them “endearing”, something about them “truly reflecting a purpose beyond what their ‘perfect brethren’ are subjected to”. Which, really, is code for “they could be used as mugs, but I like them better as vases for Namjoon’s succulents,” and you’re okay with that.

Namjoon, an English Lit major, is Tae’s roommate and the other occupant of their two-bedroom flat. As luck would have it they stay on the floor above your own, right atop your much smaller and much lonelier dorm room. It’s actually one of the shared excuses you all use for your constant visits.

Half of the time you spend on their flat includes being tucked away on their couch, reading astronomy journals or watching documentaries Joon frequently sits through alongside you, or sleeping under Tae’s covers simply because he enjoys the company and can’t seem to sleep otherwise. The rest of the time the boys, sometimes with you in tow on an off day, migrate to Jimin and Yoongi’s shared flat in Dorm D. They share their space with Jungkook, if Yoongi’s complaints about late-night water-fests were anything to go by, though you’ve never seen him there.

No, ironically, the first time you crossed paths with him was in the lobby of Dorm C — your dorm. You remember he was shifting and wandering around like a lost puppy, his eyes restlessly searching for something or someone. It was him, you knew, because he’s often featured in your shared friend’s Instagram posts, and because he’s very hard to miss.

He was — is big, towering over you easily, and was then dressed all in black. A mix of comfy and effortlessly put together in perfect execution, the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater did nothing to hide the ink covering his veiny forearms. You were instantly thankful — you’ve always been drawn to tattoos. They’re admirable on others and on yourself, and you instantly had to push down the desire to keep marking your body for reasons only pertinent to the feeling of the needle on your skin or the aesthetics of the design. Your poor ass couldn’t afford another so soon, anyway.

The other thing that gave him away was his signature dark hair, long and parted in the middle to fall over his round, soft eyes. It covered his multiple piercings but did nothing to take away from the sweet persona that settled over him. Despite the dark and the goth, he seemed… cute. Very cute, and very confused. The way his eyebrows furrowed at his phone screen just before he searched through the scattered students was a dead giveaway. He was likely lost, but that wasn’t very surprising. For all the time Tae and Joon spend on Dorm D, the same couldn’t be said otherwise. Visits to Dorm C were seldom for the rest.

And a lost Jungkook… wasn’t your problem. A simple look at his boyish features was enough to ignite some sort of weird somersaults in your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore it and run far away. So, you tried.

Blinking away the staring he had thankfully not noticed, you made for your own room as embarrassment coursed through your jittery limbs.

You didn’t make it very far before your plan backfired. You had to go near him to reach the elevator, and it apparently didn’t matter that you were practically hiding inside your bag, your hand rummaging through it for your room cardkey.

“Hey—uh, Y/N right?” you heard, and your body froze.

A look up, and there he was. Jeon Jungkook, calling your name. It was weird hearing your mesh of letters on his tongue, foreign to his palette yet pronounced to perfection. Equally confused as he looked before, and even further more embarrassed (you couldn’t help but think, amongst all the chaos in your mind, that his voice was ridiculously soothing and fitting for his physicality), your throat only let out a very intellectual “huh?”

“Um,” Jungkook’s eyes went wide, his head cocked to the side at your reaction. His feet shifted under him, and you tried ignoring the way his cheeks grew a lovely shade of pink when he spoke again.

“I’m Jungkook, and hyung—Taehyung mentioned you before. He isn’t answering and I’m a bit lost, so I was wondering if you could give me directions? Unless you’re not… Y/N?”

You’re often a recurrent character in Tae’s stories, so it shouldn’t have surprised you he’s spoken of you before. But it did.

“I am Y/N,” you relented, maybe a bit more bitterly than you intended. You couldn’t help but pout at the sudden reminder of Tae’s love for recording you during your most… inopportune moments. “Where is it you want to go?”

The boy in question rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a bunny-like smile making a sudden appearance. His teeth seemed to jut out a bit, and his upper lip disappeared almost entirely, but you were sure of one thing instantly: his smile was the prettiest one you’d ever seen.

You felt your chest constrict at the sight without any sense of permission, your ears going up in flames. Clearly, you were bonkers. You continued your walk towards the elevator, praying he’d keep up somewhere a bit farther from you.  But he followed without question, easily settling besides you and offering glances from the corner of his eye. You pressed the up button and pretended not to notice, playing around with your cardkey while you both waited.

“To hyung’s dorm — I haven’t ever been there, as strange as it sounds, and I need to borrow some paint.”

“Borrow some paint?” you hummed, the notion seeming somewhat silly to you. “After you’ve used it you can’t return it, so would it really be borrowing?”

You moved to look at him questioningly, curiosity getting the best of you, and the feeling you were hit with was far too paralyzing for you to carry. It was a sudden storm of affection, a wave of currents that spread and tightened, tickling and burning your stomach each second you saw his crinkled eyes, his teeth fully bared into a humorous grin. It made your feet stick to the ground even after the doors of the elevator greeted you open.

“You’re a weird one aren’t you?” he muttered airily, more to himself than anything, before shrugging and prompting you to follow him inside the confined space. “Technically, you’re right, but saying I’m borrowing stuff sounds nicer, doesn’t it? It’s all about semantics. Don’t worry though, hyung lets me take some of his whenever I run out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you said much after that, but you did take him all the way to Tae’s and Joon’s front door. He thanked you softly before you left, with a smile sincere and gentle in ways you hadn’t expected. You remember nodding along and, possibly, wishing him good luck on his art project, but you weren’t sure by the time you reached your room.

You remember skipping your assignments that night, choosing instead a hot shower and the comforts of your recently cleaned bed. It was the first attempt at forgetting the whole event, a new mission for your mind to complete before a crush settled its anchor.

You were used to six handsome guys. You drew the line at seven.

Meeting Jungkook for the first time was disastrous for the days that followed. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but it was rightfully warranted. Your brain had vaguely memorized what he looked like outside of pictures, and now you saw him everywhere. It was the frequency bias all over again, and it had no escape, just like that one time you wanted to dye your hair and suddenly half the population seemed to be dying it that very color. Similarly, interacting with Jungkook meant noticing him in your peripheral when he wasn’t front and center, knowing it was him in the distance. It only worsened when your paths began to regularly cross.

It happened and continuous to happen mostly in the presence of Tae or Joon, or any of Jungkook’s roommates. 

Whenever you’d spend some time on the couch with Joon, he was there. Whenever you woke up midday and decide it was high time to cook brunch for three (four then), he was already there. When Yoongi invited you over to hear some of the pieces he’s been working on, Jungkook was miraculously in the apartment. Oh, you wanted to steal some of Tae’s shirts? Jungkook catches you red handed, some stolen paints of his own right in his treacherous hold.

It’s absolutely maddening.

You wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren’t for the fact that each new stare, each new smile, leaves your stomach in complete shambles.

Who could take you back to the time when you hadn’t heard his loud laugh? To when he hadn’t seen you loafing around in your onesie after a killer test and stayed to comfort you? He even called you cute, shared some of his milk and made sure to leave only after he’d seen you smile. Sometimes he’d even notice you watch your documentaries only to pop a random question about space, or even about the science behind Star Trek or Star Wars when “Clearly FTL travel isn’t possible?” (To which you’d answer: “Not yet it isn’t, you non-believer”) before falling quiet and leaving you be. They were small conversations with no more than 3 lines exchanged, but they were more than enough for the butterflies seeping through your ribcage to go on a frenzy.

And despite everything you heard and everything you began to know, Jungkook was possibly the softest, sweetest, and most annoying person you knew. At least superficially. 

You still knew nothing personal about him, with your interactions being limited to shared spaces, but you didn’t think much of it until you began to see all kinds of things: his cute habits, his quirks, and even the way his tattoo collection grows.

You’ve silently noticed the way he wiggles his toes when he sits to watch a series, how he blinks a lot when he’s confused. You’ve seen the way he scratches the back of his head when he’s not confident about something, and how his eyes smile before his lips do, and the way his laugh resonates all around the room in the most euphoric melodies. All of this you come to know as unequivocally Jungkook. And you know, you know you’re so whipped for him that you can’t stop being in-tuned with it, with his little things.

But you’re also aware of your situation, and it doesn’t surprise you when your chest starts to hurt over it — over him, because you see his other things: the way each week curls a different girl around his waist, the way his eyes turn cold when he says he doesn’t do relationships, and the way he looks at you.

It’s never with disgust or anything of the sort. It’s just that you’ve seen the way he looks at the girls he fucks with, the girls he finds attractive, the girls he likes for a single night to then discard them.

And he’s never looked at you like that. You suppose that’s good, but... then again, you guess it means you’re nothing. After all, Jeon Jungkook never offers you any hope, he never shows any interest. Technically you’re not even his friend — not really. You’re Taehyung’s other best friend, an outside addition to his usual friend group, and now to his life. You’re okay with that, you have to be. You haven’t sought him out, haven’t done anything to close the gap between you. Water and care is something you never wanted to give your unjustified feelings. You never wanted them to grow, even now.

You just failed to take note of the rain pouring over the earth and pooling beneath your feet, and you don’t notice you’re drowning until you see him at the end of the day.

The girl attached to him is a stranger to you, just like the rest you’ve seen, yet you can’t seem to shake the thought that something must be different. Whatever she has seems to be enough for the tattooed man to shatter his distaste for PDA, at least for the time being.

Your legs hesitate to unceremoniously halt in the middle of the hall. Your eyes battle not to widen and not to stare, for a second desperate to make sure that what you’re seeing is real, that you’re seeing Jungkook kiss for the first time in forever as if you hadn’t known all this time that he fucks and loves behind closed doors. 

And it doesn’t matter that the kiss isn’t gentle, that he’s kissing her as if she were the very air he needed to breathe. No, what makes you sick is how he notices, how he sees you, and how he does nothing but pull her closer in response.

You push yourself to move as soon as his eyes drift away again, unwilling to tremble before him and unwilling to make any more mistakes.

Class would have to wait. You needed coffee, even if it meant being late. And you absolutely hate being late to Astrophysics, but you definitely hated seeing him more.