#otp: find that patch of sunlight

[leafenclaw]

OTP Playlist Tag

Tagged by @raeofalbion​ for any ship of mine. Thank you. ^^

Rules: create a five song playlist for one of your OTPs.

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it! =) @theteadetective​ and @sunnymentalist​ if you’re up for it? If not, it’s not a problem. ^^

So. Uhm. I’m sorry, I’m going to have to bend the rules a little because while I can certainly give you a list of five songs, they aren’t... well. I think we talked about how my hellbrain processes human voice as just another instrument (especially when it’s not in my native language), so I almost never bother with lyrics because I often cannot hear them?

Plus, songs to me are fluid, movement, so trying to make them fit a character (a static entity when on its own) makes no sense, unless we’re talking about how a character reacts. And then it’s not about the character anymore, it’s about how they react/interact with life, it becomes tied to the moment and events. 

Which means I don’t have ship playlists. Sorry. I’m just not wired that way.

What I do have is (extremely small) story playlists. But as pointed out above, I cannot pick them based on the lyrics, so instead I choose them based on the emotions they make me feel, and how well their colours match the story I’m trying to tell.

Good news is, I can show you. Sort of.

(First of all, necessary disclaimer: those pictures are composites made of several other pictures blended in Photoshop. I don’t own anything, and moreover I cannot credit anyone because I saved them years ago and didn’t keep the source, sorry. But they’re probably all very easy to find through a “fractal” search on google.)

So, ship! Sherlock and Jamie from Elementary, since they’re one of the two ships I have enough songs for to answer. Top picture is the colours they make together in my mind. On the left, Sherlock on his own, and on the right, Jamie. You can probably see a bit of what they bring to the ship colours individually. ^^

So, moving to the point of this post...

These are the colours I am trying to achieve on a story I started working on last summer. I gave it like five different temporary titles so even if I told you the one it has now, it probably wouldn’t tell you anything. XD But there’s bits and pieces of it scattered all over my “Six Sentences Sunday” tag if you're curious.

To pick songs that will fit a story, I hold all those colours together in my mind, and try to find songs that will match close enough both visually (with the colours) and emotionally (for the story’s overall mood <= based on how the song makes me feel rather than what it’s about, because very often what it’s about actually clashes with what I get from it).

For this story, so far I have:

“Paint it, Black”, cover by Ciara Dark purples and oranges on black background, with a few bright yellow... shooting stars? Fireworks? They move across the other colours quickly and leave a bit of a trail that fades eventually.

“Waves”, cover by We Are Sheppard Dark blue and purple, with flecks of yellowish white spiralling up and down the shapes, as if someone was moving a flashlight around and it caught on small patches of reflective fabric. (The original version of this song doesn’t have any yellow at all and a lot less purple, hence why I prefer this version for that story.)

“Someone You Loved”, instrumental cover by The Piano Guys White and very light yellow, with drops of red, blue, and green falling here and there, making concentric circles in the white/yellow shapes.

Unfortunately that would be all for that story, because I usually put a single song on repeat until I’m done. x) So, another one...

This is what I’m trying to get the PWP I’ve been working on to look like. I think I might have mentioned it before? It’s the one that accidentally grew a bit of plot (and waaaaay too many words) and is set between 7x12 and 7x13.

For this one I have:

“Lovestoned”, cover by Kaki King Grey-ish yellow thin/translucent shapes moving in an almost mechanical rhythm over a dark green fading to black background.

“Places Through Which We Move”, by R. Lacy and J.A. Thomas Starts bright yellow, slowly fades into a light green, then keeps evolving into a light blue that darkens to royal blue, and then back to dark teal until the song is over, with white sparkles coming and going like sunlight reflecting on water.

Bonus: “Final Conversation”, by The Butterfly Effect

I almost didn’t add this one because the lyrics actually fit too much for this story, except not in the way they seem at first glance (it has nothing to do with Sherlock’s bruised feelings re: Jamie’s behaviour), and also it’s 100% a coincidence because as usual I didn’t initially listen to the lyrics. But since I had already shared “Waves” with you last time we talked music, I sort of owed you one more.

Free yourself And cut away these ties You can go anywhere now Be anyone you want to be

Just stay tonight and never leave 'Cause in the morning we're going home Just stay here

The night could fall all over me And when it's over just let me go The night could fall all over me 'Cause in the morning we're going home

[likethetailofacomet]

Happier Times

Author’s note: I simply cannot stop thinking about Bastien, so enjoy this little companion chapter to Learning to Love Again. It’s also sort of a sneak peek at what’s coming in the follow up series to this train wreck, should I ever actually get us out of the mess I put us in. Anywho, just Bas reminiscing on his youth, inspired by @zaffrenotes OTP requests for : favorite non-sexual activity, who says “I love you” first, what do their family or friends think of the relationship, and what do they do when they are apart from one another. Thanks for being so interested in Bastien and Belle!! 

Pairings: Bastien x Annabelle, Jackson x Bianca, Drake x Claire 

tunes: D’Arline by The Civil Wars

i could get over you but please don’t ask me to just so you know you’ll always be the one

Settling into the driver's seat of the thickly armored car carrying Prince Liam and King Constantine, Bastien felt a slight wave of relief fall off of his shoulders as they pulled away from Applewood Manor. He found himself struggling these last few days, with focusing enough of his mind on his true duty of guarding the King and Liam, as his thoughts kept wandering to Drake and Claire. It was so important to him that Drake found happiness, and even more so that he'd be given a chance to keep it. He longed for happier times for the two of them- simpler times, where they could just be themselves, just Drake and Claire, no threats, no danger, no urgency. He longed for Drake to have what he almost had with Annabelle, what he'd wanted with her, what he'd planned with her, and to think of him being so close to that; to think of him and Claire finding one another and then being torn apart by their circumstances picked at his heart. There were old cracks that he'd tried to patch up, tried to cement over and seal; but thinking of Drake and Claire meeting the same fate that he and Annabelle had was like taking a jackhammer to those cracks and seams, and he found his mind wandering over the course of the drive back to the palace, to happier times with her...

Bastien had been afforded a rare week off as a reward for how his keen eye had caught something in the crowd at the Royal Regatta the previous weekend. His sharp attention to detail as he and Jackson did one last scan of the crowd before clearing the area as safe for the Royal Family, had likely saved the lives of the King and Queen and the two young princes; they'd apprehended three men in the crowd with weapons, Jackson sustaining a black eye from the scuffle, Bastien faring a bit worse with a broken shoulder. He'd be in a sling for weeks, but there were still things that could be done in the King's Guard- information to collect, press releases to go over- ways that he could be useful even without the use of both arms. Jackson admired his dedication, but insisted that he take a week, at least, to heal and spend time with Annabelle.

“That girl is special, Bas,” Jackson had said once after dinner at the Walker house. Bastien had brought Annabelle to meet his mentor and his family, Bianca, Drake and Savannah, now five and three, after about four months together. He was starting to feel strange about the fact that the two most important people in his life hadn't met yet. Jackson had been happy to hear that his young protege might be ready to settle down with someone, that he might be ready to start building what he and Bianca had built. Upon meeting Annabelle, it was clear that Jackson instantly liked her when she greeted him with a confident but casual handshake and warm eye contact. Bianca insisted that she sit next to her at dinner so that they could chat, and drew easy, comfortable laughter from the young woman with stories of the two men at the table. Savannah stood behind Annabelle's chair, mesmerized by her intricate braid, unable to stop herself from reaching out and touching it, leaving Annabelle promising to braid Savannah's hair, when it was long enough. The little girl absolutely beamed, running back to her mother babbling about wanting long princess hair so she could have long beautiful braids; even Drake, the sour little apple that he was at times, had a smile for Annabelle. She was Walker approved and Bastien felt an excited flutter throughout his body as he took in the sight of her fitting so seamlessly into the important parts of his life.

It was after that dinner, while he was driving her home, that he pulled off to the side of the road and turned to face her, heart hammering at the way the moonlight made her light blue eyes sparkle as they widened in surprise. “What are you doing, Bas?” she asked, her mulberry lips drawing into a quizzical , slightly open mouthed smile.

Bastien swallowed his nerves and reached across the console to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her quickly in for a kiss. The moment his lips found hers he felt even more strongly about what he was about to say. Her tongue slipped between his lips and his slid past hers, mingling together like magic. He breathlessly broke the kiss and she whimpered. “Bas?” her voice cracked with the unexpected way he'd stolen her breath.

“Annabelle,” he let his right hand slip to the side of her face, cupping her cheek. “I love you. I had to tell you. Right now. Because I know, right now.” He sucked in a little gulp of air and held it, waiting for her response. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist and leaned into his touch, bringing her other hand up to straighten a piece of hair near his forehead, her fingers brushing his skin setting little fires there.

“You do?” she asked, hope, joy and excitement swirling in her tone.

“I do.” He nodded, his steady eyes on hers.

She drew him in for another kiss, this one slow and lingering, burning like embers instead of an inferno, feeling like forever instead of for right now. “I love you, too, Bastien,” she whispered, their mouths still pressed together. “I love you.” He kissed her back, stoking the embers slowly, keeping the connection until they'd traded the air in their lungs and were growing dizzy for a lack of oxygen. It was break apart or drown in one another, and while Bastien thought that would be a good way to go, he'd just started his path towards forever with her, and he wasn't eager to die so quickly. They basked in the way love felt and the way it changed how their names sounded coming from one another's lips for a  while before he pulled back onto the road and drove her the rest of the way home, steeling glances at her, at the way the starlight made her porcelain skin glow, at the way her chest rose and fell with a large contented sigh, at the woman he loved, on the first night that he told her so.

On the few occasions that the two of them had time together in the daylight hours, they would often take walks out into the countryside, bringing a blanket to sprawl out on when they'd come to some quiet meadow or the seclusion of a willow tree's curtain of green. Annabelle would bring her sketchbook and lay on her stomach, her red curls tumbling past her shoulders, her left eye scrunched up just so at the corners in concentration, as she focused on a flower or a bird, a tree, a boulder...or sometimes the strong jawline and silver eyes of the man beside her...while she masterfully captured her subjects, somehow giving them more life on the page than they had in the physical world. Bastien loved nothing more than watching her work, watching the way her fingers slowly became covered in charcoal as she made wide arks and  short, quick marks on the paper, using her pinky to blur and soften for shadowing. She'd inevitably touch her face, leaving a dark smudge somewhere on her forehead or cheek- usually due to her swiping a stray tendril of hair from her eyes. He'd watch her, watch how the sunlight turned her hair copper, how her toes would curl in the cool grass, how she'd hum to herself absently as she sketched. He'd watch and wait until she was done, then he'd pull her to him, his lips brushing to hers as he'd wipe the charcoal away with his thumb before leaving light kisses across her face, his stubble tickling her cheeks and stirring bubbly laughter from deep in her soul.

This was the first time he'd had so much time off consecutively, and as much as he wished he could still be on the job, still learning as much as he could, he respected Jackson's insistence that he take time off. He couldn't deny that he was looking forward to so much time with Annabelle, either. He'd been away for three weeks while the Royal Family traveled abroad to Italy and France on diplomatic visits before returning to Cordonia just in time for the Regatta. He didn't like being apart from her, but he knew she hated it even more, and with good reason. He knew how she worried when he was away, how she feared he'd be injured or worse...and she'd not be near by to come to his side...He knew she spent many nights sleepless; in her bed alone in her apartment at the beginning of their relationship, or now, in their bed alone in their tiny house, but always alone. Always lying there staring at the clock, waiting for a phone call that might put her heart at ease long enough to get some sleep. He knew she'd stay up long into the night, sketching and painting and trying to keep her mind from coming up with reasons that he hadn't called yet. He knew she'd jump as soon as the phone would ring- knew because of the immediacy in her voice as she answered. His heart would ache a bit at the sadness in her tone even as they discussed happy topics, knowing that no matter what, she'd worry until he came home. He knew she thought of her brother- about how he went to work one day, with his badge and his gun, and he'd not come home, and he wished there was some way to change that for her, but he knew there wasn't. He knew they'd been lucky that he'd not been injured sooner, but when she found out that he broke his shoulder in a fight with three armed would be assassins, she shook and cried and felt her fear wash over her in waves at the thought of how close he came to being in so much more danger, how close he came to so much more harm. She needed this week as much as he did, more, even, and he knew that Jackson probably knew that from experience. They spent each day that week in a different spot, Annabelle sketching and Bastien waiting to wipe the charcoal from her nose or cheek or above her brow. On Thursday of that week, they'd gotten caught in the rain. She shrieked and gathered up her sketchbook, shoving it under her shirt to keep it dry as he covered her under his good arm, laughing and feeling the raindrops wash away some of the stress that had grown since his injury. They turned to one another and kissed slowly in the warm, late spring rain, faces wet and breaths hitching with laughter and desire. Take a week, Jackson had said, you'll feel better if you do. He'd been right again.

He hoped that soon Drake and Claire would get much more than a week like he and Belle had gotten.  

Before he knew it they were pulling into the long drive leading to the Palace garages, and Bastien neatly tucked his memories away, filing them in the back of his mind. He'd need to be sharp as he was scheduled to meet with the security teams that had swept the palace, Beaumont Estate and Drake's cabin, and Annabelle had no place in that meeting. Even now, even so many years later, she was still such a weakness to him. The love she'd planted in his heart was still there, still flowering and growing despite her absence, it's thorns pricking him from time to time. She'd always be there, there had never been another and there never would be. He sighed as he straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket, all business, as he escorted Liam and Constantine to their personal quarters and strode to the meeting room to wait for Micah and the rest of the team. If he couldn’t have his own happiness, protecting the happiness of those he cared about was the next best thing. 

you always said you want me to be happy but happiness was having you here with me you’ll always be the one that’s standing in my way and that’s okay...

tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @zaffrenotes @sleepwalkingelite @endlessly-searching-for-you @mind-reader1 @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @drakewalkerrosenberg @nekkidmolerat @indiacater @gardeningourmet @jovialyouthmusic @akrenich @notoriouscs @endlesstaylormckenzie @the-whiskeywife @roonarific @brightpinkpeppercorn @cordoniantrash

[luminis-infinite]

Hello :) can we have more Jacob and Percival being otp or brotp? They look like they would be the kind that sit at a cafe and judge people’s fashion wear and the taste of the coffee/pastry together. Thank you!

*Smol gasp...* They would. 

They try to get coffee at least once every two weeks, trying to balance catching up with each other and staying on top of their lives. On this particular day, their favourite little coffee shop (because Jacob needs to get away from the bakery sometimes) is closed with a little frowny-face in the window, forcing them to resort to grave measures. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Jacob mutters, stepping across the threshold and mentally preparing himself for the shrieking that will accompany his Grandma rolling over in her grave. In reality - it’s just the blender which is never washed going for one of those frappe-y things - but it makes a good stand in. Percival looks equally resigned, eyes trailing over the menu with the same expression he uses to assess serial killers. Cold, distant, detached (and maybe a little bit miserable). They queue in line, hands shoved deep in their pockets, and wait for the trail of people to shuffle forward. Some minutes later, they’ve both got their drinks, and a plate of cute little doughnuts, and a table by the big front windows which look out onto the street. 

Percival takes a sip, wrinkles his nose, and nearly spits it out. Jacob, having just taken a swig of his own over-priced (and bad) beverage, nearly chokes. He swallows painfully, feeling more like it’s a bowling ball going down than coffee.“That bad?”“It’s like having sex in a canoe,” Percival mutters, having cleared his throat with a shudder and a grimace. Jacob glances at him for a moment, a little confused and half hesitant to know how, when or why his friend garnered that experience. Percival watches him in return, face flat in that brilliant poker face of his, but eyes bright with amusement. When Jacob doesn't say anything, Percival continues. “It’s fucking close to water.”The middle aged soccer mom at the table beside them, with her faux blond bob and her killer nails, gasps, scandalized. Those talons draw more tightly around her disposable paper cup with it’s ugly green label as her eyes bug out a little bit. Percival just snorts, pushing himself up out of his chair and crossing the dark expanse of cafe to the trash bin. Once he’s chucked it, Percival meanders back over to Jacob, sliding back into place like he never left.The lady beside them is now typing furiously on her smart phone, nails “click, click clicking” against glass, because they’re too long and too gaudy for her to use her touchscreen properly. Jacob finds all of this hilarious - from the scowl on her face to the indifferent cock of Percival’s brow and the tiny smile twitching at his lips.“What about yours?” Percival asks him, gesturing deftly to Jacob’s drink, before picking up one of the doughnuts sitting on the plate between them. “It’s coffee,” Jacob shrugs. Percival chuckles and takes a hunk out of the pastry, lips still twisted up in a smile. “It’ll do?”“Mhmm. How’s the doughnut?”“Eh, not as good as your Grandma’s Paczaki though.” Jacob just rolls his eyes, “No one’s desserts are as good as my Grandma’s Paczaki, ‘Val, I’m offended that you would even think to try and compare them.”That garners a loud huff from the woman at the adjacent table, and a wolfish grin from Percival. 

Some weeks later, after what might be the singular most stressful and terrible week of Jacob’s life, he finds himself stepping into a sterile white room with a really bad coffee and a bag of doughnuts that aren’t as good as Grandma’s Paczaki. Someone’s drawn the blinds back, and Percival rests in a patch of sunlight. His eye looks better than it did yesterday, and miles better than it did two days ago. Deep purple and black slowly starts to fade to blue and green, hinting on yellow. The stitches in his lip are dissolving slowly. He blinks awake when Jacob settles into the chair beside the bed, eyes falling to the take-away cup. “Did you bring me Paczaki?”Jacob laughs a little and shakes his head, pulling the doughnut from the bag. Percival’s lips fight upwards into a smile, even though it isn’t Paczaki. He nibbles on the sweet slowly - savouring what just a few weeks ago he’d scarfed down. “Thanks, Jake.” Percival says. Jacob just takes his hand - the one not encased in a cast, and gives it a squeeze. “No problem, buddy. You just focus on getting better, so we can go somewhere where the coffee isn’t hot water and my Grandma won’t haunt me for buying mass produced pastries.”

[henqiguai]

haikyuu!! fic rec

i’ve been consuming unreasonable amounts of hq!! fic these past few months... here’s a rec list of ~70 fics for 16 ships. 

(edit: if the links aren’t working, right-click to open the fic in a new tab. sorry;;)

❤ = favorite

❤ ❤ ❤ = god-tier 

*

Bokuto/Akaashi (otp: my head, his heart)

the better boyfriend battle by norio (M)  ❤

Summary:  It's two days after their first date anniversary, so Bokuto ruins Akaashi's life.

i put my hand out, unfolded, into the sunlight by carafin (G)  ❤

Summary:  In which Bokuto Kotarou is woefully inept at conveying his feelings, and Akaashi Keiji has a sort-of superpower. Sort of.

Karma by dgalerab (T)

Summary: Akaashi pulls a muscle and Bokuto offers to help him with yoga. Akaashi knows a bad idea when he sees it, and he really only agrees because he's suddenly acquired a deeply rooted desire to see Bokuto do yoga.For multiple reasons.

Maybe We’re Airborne, Baby by sterlinglee (T)

Summary: Realizing he's got it bad for his setter is the easy part. Getting his feelings across might be the hardest thing Bokuto's ever done, not counting his literature final or putting out the flames on that birthday cake he tried to bake for Akaashi last year, or—or a lot of things, actually.But the point still stands. Reaching out to Akaashi is a leap in the dark, and he wants it more than he's ever wanted anything (especially the smoking remains of a cake he baked before he really understood his feelings, but knew that it's what you attempt with your own two hands that matters).

snowflakes by arsenicjay (T)

Summary: Bokuto is a simple wizard with simple needs; a nice date, a little romance, and he's all good to go.Or, Akaashi and Bokuto spend a day in Hogsmeade just before Christmas.

stating the obvious by ThinkingCAPSLOCK (G)

Summary:  There's a lot of things Bokuto isn't sure about now that he's in university. His program, his new team, his future. There's only one thing he's absolutely sure of. He is not dating Akaashi Keiji. Not even a little bit.

Year-Round Love by masi (G)

Summary:  In his first year of university, Bokuto realizes that he really adores Akaashi.

Rest of the rec list under the cut!

*

Aone/Futakuchi (otp: teddy and polar bear)

Got You by garbagecannot (T)

Summary:  So Aone kind of wants to see Futakuchi scream. Just for kicks. And he feels kind of awful about it.

*

Bokuto/Kuroo (ohohotp: best friends best boyfriends)

Seven Years by xwynn (G)

Summary:  Bokuto has a secret that's seven years too late.

*

Ennoshita/Tanaka (otp: it’s too early for the world to end)

baby, our love is fireproof by earlgrey_milktea (T)

Summary:

[10:52 pm] [to: noya-san] im gonna tell him [10:54 pm] [from: noya-san] U GOT TIHS GO GET UR BOY [10:56 pm] [to: noya-san] IM GONNA GET MYSELF THE BOY [10:56 pm] [from: noya-san] GET TEH BOY [10:57 pm] [to: noya-san] GET THE BOY [11:04 pm] [from: noya-san] GET THE BOY

or, the story of how tanaka tried to light a flame in ennoshita's heart and ended up setting everything else on fire instead.

hold your breath, it gets better by harklights (T)

Summary: But if there was one thing Ennoshita could trust about the world, it was that people wanted. They wanted things to bend to their will, other wills to bend to their will, odds to work in their favor, luck on their side, a shortcut, a fun time, insurance and assurance both. A security lock to be made extra sturdy against possible thefts. A frail book with tattered binding that wanted augmentation before it frayed and spilled its pages everywhere, succumbed to age. A girl’s pocket mirror that reflected falling cherry blossoms every time she opened it to look at herself. Vanity, maybe, although it had been too cute when she first saw herself and gasped.“A flying carpet,” the man before the counter wishes.“A… flying carpet,” Ennoshita slowly repeats.

Practice Makes Perfect by ToBeOrNotToBeAGryiffindor (G)

Summary: Ennoshita Chikara has had a few confessions, but this one takes the cake.

"Enno-san, can I ask you something?" "Sure." "You like guys, right?" "Yeahhhh. . ." "I think I might like a guy. What do I do?"

Why is this my life?

one step, two step by Authoress (T)

Summary:  Tanaka's made enough of a mess trying to confess to Ennoshita, he doesn't need his attention-hungry kitten getting in the mix too.

*

Hinata/Kageyama (otp: as long as i’m here, you’re invincible)

baby, i can give you wings by Metis_Ink (T)  ❤

Summary: In which there are superpowers, cats, rainstorms, realizations, split-second jealousy, embarrassing volleyparents, killer whales, electric Kuroos, unstable emotions, bad romance movie mentions, some angst, some fluff, but mostly a lot of awkward high schoolers.

The minute Kageyama walks into the gym and sees Hinata hovering eight feet over the nets he knows he’s screwed.

*

Daichi/Kuroo (otp: city boy country boy)

If I Could Change Your Mind by tookumade (G)

Summary:

“I’m kind of excited to meet him,” Bokuto says, roughly an hour before Karasuno are scheduled to arrive. “He sounds interesting.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him. “I just told you that there’s not a lot about him that stands out—how is that interesting?”

“You’ve told me a lot about how he apparently doesn’t stand out,” Bokuto replies easily. “You don’t usually talk about someone so much."

(Or, Sawamura Daichi shows up like a breath of fresh air, and Kuroo Tetsurou doesn't stand a chance.)

*

Daichi/Suga (otp: honey i’m home)

Add New Contact by booksong (G)

Summary: "Daichi was leaning contemplatively on the sill of his open window, waiting for the icy breeze he was letting into his room to wake him up to how utterly stupid he was being. He’d always hated stories, real or fictional, about people doing ridiculous and self-destructive things for love, but now here he was, palming his smartphone idly and wondering with complete seriousness if it would survive an eight meter drop with substantial but repairable damage."

(Or; All Daichi's electronics are endangered the moment he realizes he can't get that sweet, patient, ridiculously attractive IT tech off his mind.)

cool teens don’t wear skinny jeans by ebenroot (T)

Summary: 'He was supposed to ask Suga for his number or ask if he was busy next Friday night and if he was interested in seeing a movie or something. Instead, he said in a slightly cracking and not at all calm voice, “I think I lost my kids.”

or

that fic where babysitter no. 1 Daichi loses three kids in the city, gets into a bunch of shenanigans, and tries to ask Suga on a date.

forever is a long time but i don’t mind spending it with you by Interconnected_3 (G)

Summary: “What else?” Daichi blinks. “What else is there? Do you want me to tell you how you like your coffee?” He grins teasingly. “I don’t know, how do I like my coffee? By the way, you’re missing something.” “Cream and two and a half sugars- wait, I’m missing something?” “Yup,” Suga says. “You forgot to mention that we’re dating.” “Well, god, Suga, judging from how we’ve been kissing and holding hands for three years and in this bed for the past nine hours since last night, I couldn’t possibly tell.”

in which daichi finally gets the day off and teaches a romantically-frustrated suga how to be honest with himself. 

extreme fluff

i do (cherish you) by gabstar (T)

Summary: The first time Daichi suggests it, it’s a joke.

“Sugawara Koushi,” he says solemnly. He’s bent on one knee, the floor is still sticky with sweat post-practice. He offers up the lost ring, found while mopping off gym floors. “Will you marry me?”

((Five times Daichi asks Suga to marry him, plus once where he finally, finally says yes.))

in the shadow of the mountain by laubear (T)  ❤

Summary:  After graduation, Daichi and Suga climb a mountain to see whether it will make them the grown-ups they’re supposed to be.

when all the songs are through by thewindraiser (T)

Summary: Daichi is out for lunch with some of his colleagues when he spots it.

The ring.

you better go catch it by laubear (G)

Summary:  Desperate times call for desperate measures. Sometimes those desperate measures involve compromising perfectly good scientific data, but Daichi’s learned to stop being surprised when it comes to Suga.

you can only take what you can carry by skittidyne (T)

Summary: Suga pulled Noya down from the chair. Daichi finally decided enough was enough. He knew he was just doing it to draw him in, and damn it, it worked (just like it always worked against him), because there was no way he was letting Suga get into one of Kuroo and Bokuto’s competitions.

Suga had their libero thrown over one shoulder by the time Daichi reached them. “Daichi-san! Look!” Noya chirped, waving the arm that wasn’t wrapped around the vice-captain.

Suga put up his free arm, flexing, and gave Daichi a wink.

(( or, alternatively: "do you even lift, bro?" ))

*

Hanamaki/Matsukawa (otp: i wear my boyfriend’s clothes, i look incredible)

and indeed there will be time by pickledplumes (T)

Summary: Between volleyball and the looming end of their high school years, Hanamaki thinks he’s already dealing with more than enough, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, no one else gets the memo.

-Alternatively: “I am not in love with my best friend!” says Hanamaki Takahiro. Nobody buys his bullshit.

hang out fall in love by carafin (T)

Summary: In which Hanamaki's humble medical practice is threatened by an intractable asshole a witch doctor who's just moved into the shop down the street. Medical/Witchcraft AU.

As far as Hanamaki’s concerned, and as far as bad life decisions go, setting up your witch clinic right next to an actual, proper, medical clinic is practically akin to setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet right next to a gym. Or a sex toy shop next to a church. Or a vegetable patch next to a goat farm. Or – yeah, the point is, this Matsukawa guy has totally cornered the market in Terrible-Life-Decision-Making-Skills.

lost with you (take my hand) by airblends (T)

Summary:  When a missed stop or ten lead to an involuntary day trip to Kyoto for Matsukawa and Hanamaki, they find that maybe the journey really is its own reward sometimes.

poolside by tothemoon (T)  ❤

Summary: At eighteen, it'd been a matter of wading.

At twenty-five, Hanamaki tries not to fall in headfirst.

plus one by orphan_account (G)

Summary: "Did you know we're dating?"

"What? Says who?"

"Says everyone apparently."

"Oh," Hanamaki frowns for a few seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate fountain. "Nice."

that’s what you get (for waking up in vegas) by skittidyne (T)

Summary: “There was an Elvis?” Hajime asks.

“He was the officiator. It’s the cliché, right?”

“…Officiator of what?” Tooru asks with a look down at Takahiro’s hand.

“You can borrow my phone to pull pictures from for our wedding album.” Issei reaches over and grasps the hand with the ring on it. Everyone is staring at their clasped hands like a three-headed lobster just crawled onto the table. “You were both the best men and I was very, deeply touched by how affected you both were at the ceremony,” he says in a perfect deadpan.

(( or: iwaizumi does not want to be the responsible one, and thus they suffer the consequences, or, perhaps, 'suffer' is a bit too strong of a word ))

Wet Your Whistle by darkmagicalgirl (E)

Summary:  Hanamaki gets a job as a bartender. Matsukawa likes his uniform. (Alternatively: Matsukawa tries to ignore his huge crush on his friend-with-benefits. He fails.)

*

Iwaizumi/Konoha (otp: ace and jack of all trades; alternatively: otp: i know fukurodani and seijou probably have never breathed the same air just let me have this)

Ace and Jack by masi (M)

Summary:  Iwaizumi and Konoha are neighbors and teammates. Maybe friends too. They get along most of the time.

*

Kenma/Kuroo (otp: backbone, brain, heart) 

Cat’s Out of the Bag by shions_heart (T)

Summary: When Kuroo Tetsurou drunkenly proposes to his best friend Kozume Kenma during the midnight release of Kenma's first ever video game, Kenma doesn't think anything could be more embarrassing.

But when the proposal ends up going viral, Kenma's forced to confront feelings about his friend that he's kept locked away for a long time.

Collecting Days by pickledplumes (G)

Summary: 

The silence of the crowd as they recite their vows and say I do is deafening, their cheers as he and Tetsurou kiss even more so, and Kenma thinks some distant version of him would have shied away and ran; but right now he’s in the arms of the only man he’s ever loved, locked in the most passionate kiss he’s ever known, and he feels like he can take on the world.

curiosity kills by newamsterdam (T)  ❤

Summary: Kenma rescues a cat.

Later on, the cat saves him in return.

i built you a home in my heart by newamsterdam (M)

Summary:

Yaku doesn’t let Kuroo derail him. “You don’t even have that excuse. And I’ve known you and Kenma too long to think that these feelings didn’t exist, before today.”

There’s a truth in what he says. Kuroo’s chest feels too small to contain his heart, beating giddily against his ribs. Even if he falls into his usual back and forth with Yaku, everything is different today.

“It’s not like that,” he says softly. He cups both hands around his mug, looking into the dregs of his coffee. “It’s like… I couldn’t even let myself think of it before, you know? I couldn’t let my mind even go there, because it would’ve been unbearable, to know and not be able to do anything about it.”

Yaku shakes his head, kicking at Kuroo’s legs under the table. “Oh my god,” he says. “You’re going to be hopeless now, aren’t you?”

Five years after high school— what changes, what doesn't, and what really matters, in the end.

love’s not the way to treat a friend by girltalk (T)

Summary: There’s really nothing quite as revelatory as the silent minutes spent in bed during the aftermath of a wet dream involving you and your high-school best friend.

(i must profess) by sadaf (T)

Summary:  “No!” Kenma says, voice high and through clenched teeth as Kuroo offers it to him. “Put- put that away! Put that away!”

mr. steal yo man by saintjoy (T)

Summary:  Lev's got it bad for Kenma. Unfortunately, he's already got one hell of a boyfriend.

Show a Little Faith by minijhi (G)

Summary: 

“Why are you sending me a singing Valentine telegram?" Kenma asks, mouth flattened. "It’s six months until Valentine’s Day.”

“I bought a dwarf over the summer to use as cupid.” Kuroo says. “I figured he could use some practice.”

-

Presenting Kenma as the Boy-Who-Lived, whose living becomes a lot more interesting when Ravenclaw Prince Kuroo Tetsurou starts sending him singing telegrams about defeating the Dark Lord.

Static by icespyders (G)  ❤❤❤

Summary: 

stat•ic /ˈstadik/ adj. : 1. lacking in movement, action, or change; 2. concerned with bodies at rest or forces in equilibrium n. : crackling or hissing noises on a telephone, radio, or other telecommunications system.

He hadn't taken it well when Kuroo went away.

The Wedding Hall Shuffle by icespyders (T)  ❤

Summary: Box steps for a waltz are easy, even if you've never done them before, even if you learned at a strangers' wedding from another stranger, even if you're not quite sure what you're doing. But love? Love is something else, something without regimented one-two-three-four patterns, without rules.

Maybe it's silly, but Kenma thinks he might be figuring it out.

*

Kyoutani/Yahaba (otp: mad dog and puppy)

all you have is your fire by knightswatch (T)

Summary: 

Shigeru is quickly hurtling toward the point where he’s going to have to change the relationship that he’s built with Kyoutani in ways that he can’t take back, and it’s one of the reasons that he isn’t particularly looking forward to his birthday.

No matter how he feels, Shigeru knows he can’t afford to be in love. Or at least, he can’t afford to act on it.

Close to the Chest by darkmagicalgirl (T)  ❤❤❤

Summary:  It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

Mixed Signals by snoqualmie (T)

Summary:  Feelings are definitely a thing he’s having. Kyoutani is really sweet. He’s family oriented and he prefers novels with female leads and he’s in all honors classes. He kind of has a big head, totally has a big smile, definitely has a big heart. His eyes are nice, he’s got that dimple. Yahaba groans and rubs his fists into his eyes.

Room to Grow by kiyala (G)  ❤❤❤

Summary:  Kyoutani and Yahaba have enough on their minds in third year, as ace and captain of the volleyball team, butting heads both on and off the court while trying to improve their game so the team has a shot of winning this year. When they find a puppy abandoned in a park, their lives only get even more complicated.

the sunset hours by commovente (T)

Summary: 

set in an alternate sendai city where everything is almost exactly the same, except every day during sunset, each person's heart is visible to everyone else, in whatever form that may be, for better or for worse.

in which kyoutani has an actual puppy dog heart, yahaba is the most unconventional disney character alive, and oikawa is still the best senpai.

or: the story of yahaba's adventures in the big city.

This World is Just Illusion by shions_heart (T)

Summary: Yahaba Shigeru was a scientist set to work on and administer the SS-415 Serum to the test subject Kyoutani Kentarou. But when the experiment fails, he's forced to relocate with an unstable Kyoutani and make a new home for them.

(Or the story of how the Mad Dog gang was formed.)

*

Lev/Yaku (otp: angry small and dirty large)

Touch by Mysecretfanmoments (T)

Summary:  After a twisted ankle and an uncomfortable realization, Yaku starts to see a different side of Lev—one he doesn't want to kick at all. (Or, well... not often.)

Yaku and the Beanstalk by Mysecretfanmoments (T)

Summary: 

Yaku Morisuke is many things: a libero, a caretaker, a good student. He's also about to find Lev Haiba stuck in a vending machine.

(In which Yaku accidentally recruits Lev to the volleyball team and can't get rid of him after.)

*

Oikawa/Suga (otp: 100 days with mr. refreshing)

all the small things by Authoress (T)

Summary:

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

*

Oikawa/Ushijima (otp: don’t you ever forget my worthless pride & prejudice)

A Fish out of Water by masi (M)

Summary:  Ushijima is having a hard time adjusting to life in Tokyo.

This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (T)  ❤❤❤

Summary:  Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

it’s kind of like a promise by songtofly (T)  ❤

Summary:  Devotion, Ushijima Wakatoshi learns, is a two-way street.

like someone in love by masi (T)

Summary:  Oikawa tries to resolve an unexpected Ushiwaka-related problem carefully and calmly.

#notalovestory by iiejn, readerofsaph (T)

Summary: 

Oikawa Tooru, Japan's representative pretty boy actor, lands the best movie role of his career yet. Shame about who else is acting in it, too.

Dearest Oikawa,

I am sorry that you hit me at the party last week. I am confident that your reputation will survive the backlash. Hopefully we will be able to speak on better terms the next time we meet.

Yours, Ushijima Wakatoshi

On A Willful Afternoon When I Thought Love Could Choose by Zee (E)

Summary: Ushijima gets stuck in a repeating time loop on the day his university's team must play Oikawa's. Shenanigans ensue.

Planting Season by masi (T)

Summary:  After graduation, Ushijima runs into Oikawa again.

Searching Happiness by sunspearing (T)  ❤

Summary:  The five times Oikawa tries to call it quits, and the one time Ushijima does.

*

Semi/Shirabu (otp: loving is easy, teasing is easier)

don’t let this magic die  by oilpaints (T)

Summary: 

Shirabu glances out the window, listening to the soft pitter-patter of the rain, and the even sounds of Semi’s breathing. Only now, as he glances around the cramped, dimly-lit room and spots Semi’s bag, already open and spilling out clothes onto the floorboards, does he realizes just what he’s gotten himself into.

It’s just four days, he reminds himself. Four days of sharing a room with Semi, of all people, but still — he’s been through worse, right? Right.

SPOILER:

Actually, whether he’s right or wrong is up for debate, because everything goes about just as well as anyone would expect. (Which is to say: surprisingly, nobody dies, Shirabu learns more about Semi Eita than he ever would have bargained for, and that, maybe, he’s not so bad.

Maybe.)

face to the sun by oilpaints (G)

Summary: 

Shirabu Kenjirou, as told by friends both old and new.

Kawatabi clicks his tongue. “I still don’t get why you were born in spring,” he says. “You’re so bitter and cold. More of a winter child, if you ask me.”

Shirabu just shrugs lightly, lips tugged upwards in a faint smile. “But I didn’t ask you,” he says. “And besides, spring is all about new beginnings, isn’t it?”

Impulse by Metis_Ink (T)  ❤❤❤

Summary: 

"Semi’s not sure how subtle the team is trying to be, but there must be some ungodly conspiracy pointed against him. It’s working in the sense that Semi is half aware that maybe this rivalry with Shirabu is a lot more troublesome than it seems, but really, that’s all he's getting."

Or

Second year Semi Eita faces the downward spiral that is his life following the arrival of some first year setter who's way too cocky for his own good.

Scarf Trick by togekissies (G)

Summary: The last thing Shirabu wants to do is run into a naggy upperclassman after a long day.

seven day’s luck by togekissies (T)

Summary: 

(semishira week fic collection)

One: Semi and Shirabu go on a date. Two: Shirabu can't stand executive meddling more than he can't stand Semi. Three: Shirabu and Semi are just kids at reform school, discussing treason on the roof in the way only prideful teenagers can. Four: Semi is a nostalgic loser. Shirabu pushes him in a creek. Five: Semi steals some intel. Shirabu doesn't like patching him up.

*

Tsukishima/Yamaguchi (otp: when did you ever get so cool?)

blue summer sky by deanpendragon (T)  ❤❤❤

Summary:  In which Tadashi manages his grandfather's pet store and Tsukishima works at the music shop next door. Lots of exclamation points, dialogue, obvious crushes, internal (and overexcited) monologuing, animal trivia and terrible puns ensue.

by any other name by memorde (T)

Summary: 

A Concise Guide to Dealing with People Asking if your Best Friend and/or Crush is Single:

Panic

Lie

Run

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon (M)  ❤❤❤

Summary:  Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he's probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he's at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

let’s keep this professional by laubear  ❤

Summary: 

When the first sincere gesture of Tsukishima Kei’s life costs him his glamorous job as a sports agent, only a wide-eyed, freckled accountant volunteers to jump ship with him. But if the two of them can save the careers of volleyball’s legendary Oddball Duo, things might just work out after all.

Or, the story of how Tsukishima Kei got fired, got married, adopted a kid, and fell in love. In that order.

levels of investment by skittidyne (T)

Summary: 

Yamaguchi was far less nervous in practice than any games, and he’d gotten far more skilled at serving in a few short months, so Tsukishima was utterly unprepared for the feeling of a volleyball slamming into the back of his head.

There was a beat of silence.

The ball had enough of an angle to bounce off his head and over to the other side of the net, landing neatly in front of a stunned Sugawara.

(( or: Ennoshita plots for the future, Suga wants to mess around and is intent on dragging everyone down to his level, Noya tries to become a spiker, Kiyoko is a good senpai, Yamaguchi cries, and Tsukishima wonders if he's been dropped off in the Twilight Zone without his notice ))

These Words You Don’t Hear by ohhello (E)

Summary:  Tadashi is convinced entering into his third year at Karasuno means that he is one year closer to losing what he holds most dear: his team, his friends, and most importantly his daily moments with Kei. While Tadashi wrestles with his fear of lasts, Kei struggles with how to offer him firsts.

[psijay]

Inktober OTP day 21: Fairytale AU

I looked at the prompt and realized I don’t know enough about any fairytales so I just wrote a pretend one lmao.

The prince had been warned to stay away from the forest. ‘You’ll get lost in there,’ his parents told him, ‘and you might not find your way home’. But when his parents saw evil coming, they told him to run, and ‘lost’ sounded better than ‘dead’. He fled into the dense forest. He ran until he could no longer hear the crackling of the flames licking at the walls of the palace. He ran until he couldn’t run any further. And then he fell to his knees, dehydrated and starving, and passed out.

He awoke with a jolt, shocked into wakefulness by a powerful presence. A woman stood over him, frowning and fretting. She looked to be just a bit younger than the prince, with blond hair that shone like a halo under the sunlight filtering through the leaves. He knew without asking that she was a witch. She radiated power.

“Help,” he croaked out, voice weak. “Please.”

She nodded. “I will,” she promised. Her voice carried an accent he couldn’t place. “I can transform you into something more at home in these woods. A charm that will wear off when you no longer need it.”

“Please,” he said again.

The witch began to speak in hushed tones, and his consciousness faded.

The soldiers had been warned to stay away from the forest. ‘Something lives there,’ they’d been told, ‘something cursed.’ But as he watched his fellow soldiers cut down one by one until he was the last one left, ‘cursed’ started to sound like the safer option. By the time he made it past the treeline, he’d already nearly bled out. Between the slashes across his face and the wounds around his abdomen, he was amazed he could even make it that far. He staggered into the darkness, breath coming in harsh gasps, before collapsing against the massive trunk of a crumbling tree. The last thing he saw as his vision faded was a pair of red-amber eyes, blinking in the void.

He awoke slowly, to the sensation of water against his skin. It dripped onto his chin in a steady rhythm. He screwed up his face, pried his eyes open. He was no longer propped against the tree trunk. Instead, he lay flat on his back in a patch of moss. Dew dripped from the leaves above him. When he tilted his head and opened his mouth (wincing as it agitated the slash across his lips), he could collect enough water to soothe his dry throat. In the branches above, beyond his field of vision, he could just hear the soft call of a bird, melodic in a haunting sort of way.

After a few more swallows of dew, he gathered his strength and propped himself up on his elbows. Immediately, every muscle and nerve in his body lit up in pain, and he gritted his teeth to stifle his cry as he crumpled back to the ground. In the trees, wings fluttered, but the soldier hardly noticed, eyes clenched shut and fingers dug hard into the moss beneath him. For a few moments, he simply lied there, trying to regain his breath, until something rustled beside him. He froze, slowly opened his eyes.

A barn owl leaned over his face, head tilting back and forth, huge amber eyes fixed on his own. He gasped and flinched away, doing his best to ignore his protesting muscles. The owl only cooed softly and hopped to follow him. It’s eyes, eerily emotive, darted around his face almost anxiously. It gently nudged his face to the side with its beak, then fluttered over to his other side to tip his face in the opposite direction. The soldier watched it warily, but let it go about its business, unsure what else he could do. The owl made a low noise, before taking off.

Odd, the soldier thought, but at least it hadn’t pecked his eyes out. He took a look around his surroundings. Green surrounded him on all sides, from the light filtering down through the leaves, to the lichen on the tree trunks, down to the moss and grass sprinkled over the ground. Was this really the same forest he’d taken refuge in? While his senses had been fairly dulled when he stumbled into the trees (and his memory of his desperate search for safety dulled even more), he certainly felt like it had been more foreboding earlier. He could hardly imagine this being the lair of some great evil.

Before he could muse any further, the barn owl landed beside him, a branch much too big for it clutched in its beak. It dropped the branch within easy reaching distance, before launching into the skies again. A good look at the branch revealed several bright red fruits (apples, if he had to guess) hidden in the leaves. The soldier frowned. Was the owl… trying to feed him? How could an owl know what humans ate? For that matter, how did a barn owl, a creature preying mainly on small animals, know that apples were edible at all?

The bird returned shortly thereafter, this time with a plant. Aloe, he recognized, as the owl snapped it in half and very, very carefully, pressed it against the largest wound on his face. He held still, more out of shock than courtesy. The owl was dressing his wounds.

How—

Why—

…

What?

Clearly, he had died from his wounds, and this was some… very confusing form of the afterlife. He wracked his mind, but that was the only reasonable answer he could come up with. After that point, he stopped trying to analyze the owl’s actions.

Somehow, the soldier began to heal. Over the course of a few weeks, the owl helped nurse him back to health, bringing him what food it could find (just fruits and berries in the beginning, then small birds and rodents once he was well enough to make a fire pit), directing him to clean water, and bringing aloe and other ingredients for healing salves. Eventually, the soldier stopped wondering how the owl knew so much, and simply accepted that it wasn’t an average owl. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he was grateful just the same. He thanked it for every gift, and let it perch on his shoulder when it needed to rest. That seemed to be enough.

Eventually, he left the forest, the owl following him from the skies as he trekked to his old base. Everything was gone. The base itself, the people who worked there, even the town that had been nearby, had disappeared. He couldn’t even find the bodies of the soldiers that had fallen in the battle that nearly took his life.

“What happened?” he wondered aloud, voice shaking. The owl landed on his shoulder, preened his hair to calm him. “We… we lost,” he whispered, falling to his knees. “They took everything.”

The owl nuzzled his cheek, cooing sympathetically. It’s all right, it seemed to say, I’m still here. He scooped it off his shoulder, cradled it carefully to his chest. It snuggled in close, stretching to tuck its face against his neck. I’m here for you.

“Thank you,” he murmured into its feathers. “I don’t know what you are. I don’t know why you’re helping me. But I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

The owl didn’t respond, just cuddled closer.

The two returned to the forest, to the shelter the soldier had built. The soldier got a fire started, and the owl brought a hearty dinner of several mice and a whole rabbit. The soldier got to work preparing the meal, cleaning up the meat with his old combat knife, flinging the scraps over to his companion, who delighted in snatching them out of the air. Their nightly routine.

“I really do appreciate you,” the soldier said as he went about preparing his meal. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you, or if I even could.” He sighed, before continuing his soliloquy. “I don’t know how I could’ve survived without your help. I don’t think I would’ve wanted to. What kind of life would that be, alone and isolated in a cursed forest?” He shook his head. “I mean, obviously I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to an owl, after all. But I truly believe I would’ve given up a long time ago if you weren’t around.”

He looked up to find the owl staring up at him, those emotive eyes wide. Its gaze captured him, so soulful and… caring, somehow. Its dark eyes were so human at times, it almost startled him.

“I couldn’t ask for a better companion,” the soldier finally said, hoping the owl could understand the sincerity in his voice.

He smiled, before turning his attention back to his food, but as soon as his gaze shifted, a flash of light flooded his peripheral vision. He turned back, shielding his eyes against the glow. It surged and grew until its luminosity peaked, then faded back down, into the shape of a man. The soldier scrubbed at his eyes, blinking haloes from his vision, and when it finally cleared, a man sat hunched before him.

The man gasped for breath, chest heaving as he sat up, blinking deep amber eyes. The soldier could only watch, slack-jawed, as the man recovered. With dark, warm skin, and tousled, curly hair, the man would’ve caught the soldier’s attention even if he hadn’t literally been the first human he’d seen in months. Small scars split the skin of his face, on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose; marks of a life of struggle and triumph. A neat mustache and goatee framed his mouth, the hair not quite thick enough to hide his strong jawline. The soldier couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Thank you,” the man finally breathed, eyes lighting up as they fell on the soldier.

The soldier’s mouth closed and opened silently as he searched for words. Finally he managed to choke out, “Are you the…”

“The owl, yes,” the man said, smiling just enough to crinkle the skin around his eyes. “I wasn’t originally an owl, but I think you’ve already realized that.”

The soldier nodded slowly. “So, who were you, before you were an owl?”

The man’s smile faltered. “I was a prince. A long, long time ago. But my kingdom is long gone. Now, I suppose I am just Gabriel.”

“Gabriel,” the soldier repeated. He held out a hand. “I’m Jack.”

Gabriel’s smile returned as they shared a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Jack.”

Later, after Jack finished preparing their food, the conversation continued.

“So, how did you become an owl?” Jack asked.

“My kingdom had been usurped. My parents had been taken prisoner, and my only chance at survival was to hide in the forest,” he explained, gaze distant. “When I collapsed from exhaustion, a witch found me. She told me she could make me into something at home in the forest, and that the charm would wear off when I no longer needed it.”

Jack leaned in, rapt. “‘When you no longer needed it’? What did that mean?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I thought it would wear off once the kingdom had forgotten me. But reign after reign passed and I remained an owl. I learned my way around the forest, and all its secrets, and still I remained an owl. I helped those who got lost among the trees, still as an owl. Until you.” He ran his fingers through his goatee thoughtfully. “I suppose, I no longer needed the charm because I was no longer alone.”

The meal continued in easy silence, shoulders brushing every now and again.

Their pasts were distant, their futures uncertain, but they were no longer alone.

[hardcore-evil-regal]

In a Dream

They Call Me the Cavalry (BadassNinja)

Summary: He never thought it would happen. It has always been one blockade after another. Wrong timing. Wrong person. Wrong circumstance. Always wrong. Until now. Now they'd finally got it right. Their last chance.

Notes: So I have three and a half tests next week and was going to study, but I read this awesome writing prompt and couldn't help myself. It had to be written. Sorry in advance, I hope you guys enjoy ;)

You can keep reading this here or on AO3 or FF.net

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

In a Dream

He wakes slowly as sunlight streams through the sheer curtains in the room. It's early he realises, earlier than his alarm anyway. The stirrings of excitement begin in his stomach as he gradually wakes and he can feel a wide grin settling on his face. Today is the day. It feels like forever that he's been waiting for this day to come. Years? Decades? Too long. Excitement and nervous energy are thrumming through him as he rises from the bed and heads into the bathroom. It's still early but he can't stand to just sit around wasting time. He needs to do something, keep himself busy to some extent. It's almost surprising that his hands don't shake whilst he shaves, considering how he's feeling. There is so much riding on today. All his dreams, his hopes and wishes coming true. He never thought it would happen. It has always been one blockade after another. Wrong timing. Wrong person. Wrong circumstance. Always wrong. Until now. Now they'd finally got it right. Their last chance. He can't imagine their journey to this day being any different though,  try as he might. Maybe they would still be together, maybe they would've gotten together sooner or maybe they wouldn't be together at all. Trying to imagine his life without her is near impossible. Just spending the night apart from her was hard enough as it is. A life without his Melinda May… Well that's no life at all. Just thinking about her causes a smile to form on his lips. He can't wait to see her, her warm smile, the mischievous glint in her eyes, the amber glow of her hair in the sunlight. She's everything to him. His world and more. Just the sound of her laughter can make a bad day into a good one, a simple touch reassuring him whenever he doubts himself. Her presence alone can soothe his worries and he, to this day, has no idea how she manages to do that.

There is the slightest of tremors in his hands as he buttons up his shirt, nervousness and anticipation beginning to settle in. Looking at himself in the mirror his fingers tug at the bow tie around his neck, lips pursing as he contemplates whether to keep it on or take it off. Frowning at it for a moment he finally comes to a decision, fingers undoing the knot and pulling it off, just leaving the top few buttons of his shirt undone. Melinda always did prefer him without ties. He smiles at his reflection, yes, much better. He can't wait to see Melinda in her dress, he's sure she'll look beautiful; she always looks gorgeous no matter what she's wearing. Running his hands over the lapels of his jacket he takes a deep breath before turning away from the mirror. Picking up his phone from the top of his drawers he glances at the screen seeing a message from his best man. The wedding is well and truly underway now. His keys jingle in his hand as he leaves the house. Sliding into the driver's’ seat of his red corvette his palms sweat just a little as he grips the steering wheel tightly. He can’t remember having felt this way in so long. Usually he is unflappable, calm in the most serious of crises, even in the face of death.

Pulling into a parking bay, he turns off the engine before hopping out of the car. Tucking the keys safely into his pocket he walks through the tall iron gates into the garden. A glorious area filled with so many different shades of green, and vibrant colours from the assorted flowers spread throughout. A sensual paradise filled with the sweet fragrance of so many flowers and the beautiful sight of bright and exotic flowers. There is a large patch of green grass where white chairs have been arranged in neat rows,a walkway dividing them into two sections. Only a few people have arrived already, his groomsmen and best man, along with the celebrant and a couple of guests. Walking down the walkway, they all turn to look at him and he can only imagine how it will be for his soon to be wife when she makes her way down. His wife. How many times he’d thought that to himself with longing, never thinking that it would ever be a possibility. It’s funny how life works out sometimes.

Standing up at the front, he tries to look calm and confident when he is honestly feeling incredibly scared and excited and amazed all at once. It’s an odd combination of feelings, but regardless, this is the one thing in his life that he has felt absolutely sure about. When one of the bridesmaids appears he feels his heart rate pick up because he knows what comes next. It’s finally time. Receiving their cue, the band begins to play, and slowly the bridesmaids make their way down. The time between the last bridesmaid and when she finally appears feels like a lifetime, but when he does see her, she takes his breath away. For him, it feels like everything has stopped. Time ceases to exist and all he can focus on is her. Their eyes meet, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. A brilliant smile forms on her lips, lighting up her features as she seems to float across the ground towards him, her expression of happiness most likely a mirror to his own. Her dress is simple, white with a deep v-neckline, a cinched waist and draping skirt. Stylish and classy with just a small bit of embellishment, a sparkling design of a branch wrapped elegantly around a part of the side of her bodice just above her waist. Meeting him at the top, in front of their small gathering of friends and family, she hands off her bouquet to her bridesmaid before turning to him, eyes sparkling with happiness. A warm feeling rushes through him, and like the first time they touched, his entire arm tingles as she holds his hand, grasping it tightly in her own.

It's almost impossible for him to tear his eyes away from her as the ceremony begins. Her eyes flick over to his and she smirks at him squeezing his hand briefly before flicking her eyes back over to the celebrant. Always the practical one, and she's right, he really should focus on what the celebrant is saying. He smiles at her squeezing her hand back in response before trying to focus on the celebrant. For something that he's waited so long for, it all seems to happen so quickly. Suddenly they are turning towards each other and two rings are being pressed into his hands as he hands one over to his soon to be wife. Feeling the cool metal of the ring in his palm his hands are practically shaking as he takes her small one within his own and slides the slim gold ring slowly, gently onto her finger. It rests snugly beneath her knuckle and he can't stop himself from tenderly sweeping his thumb across it. Her lips curl up in a smile as she looks up at him, dark eyes filled with so much love he feels like it's almost too much. The soft pads of her finger tips trace his knuckle before she slides the ring onto his finger, his hand warm holding her own cooler one. It sends tingles down his spine and he steps forward, even closer to her as he cups her cheek. Their eyes flicker closed as they lean towards each other, her lips soft and sweet against his as he slides an arm around her waist holding her closer to him. He can feel her smile against his lips and her eyes sparkle at him as they pull apart slowly, foreheads resting against each other, neither worrying about their audience only a couple of metres away. Brushing his thumb gently over her cheek, he places a soft kiss against her lips again before pulling back.

“I lov-”

His eyes snap open in the dark as his heart thunders in his chest, heartbeat racing, the sound of blood rushing through his ears is all he can hear in the silent room. On instinct his arm reaches out to the other side of the bed as he sits up, and the harsh truth of reality comes crashing down upon him as his hand closes around empty sheets, cold from not having been slept in, still tucked in neatly on the other side. A lump forms in his throat as he closes his eyes, hand still clenching the cold empty sheets. Breathing in deeply through his nose he practices the breathing technique she once taught him. In, one, two, three, four. Out, one, two, three, four. It’s been months now, months since she crumpled in his arms and left him alone in a world without her. Every night he still dreams of her and the future they almost had. How close they came to having their happy ending. Instead he now lives with a constant ache in his chest, a familiar feeling since she died, his heart shattered in a most irreparable way. Swallowing down the sob that bubbles up in his throat, he wipes away the tears that spill from his eyes. She meant everything to him, his whole world, his universe. His guiding light throughout the dark now extinguished, leaving him alone in pitch black. A part of him died too when she died in his arms, something within him lost. Something that only she could find. Almost subconsciously, a hand drifts up to the chain around his neck, fingertips running over the small gold ring hanging from it.

She never even got to wear it.

x

x

Notes:

Well that was about a cup and a half of angst. The prompt I found was along the lines of your OTP at the altar about to kiss and then person A wakes up sobbing staring at the empty space beside them because in reality person B died years ago. I tweaked it a little but that's pretty much it. I'm sorry for causing you guys all this extra pain, but please drop a comment. Even leave a fluffy prompt if you'd like me to write you something nicer :)

[thesamevicvega-archive]

ship meme: vic and henry

♛ fill in the blanks | fluff otp edition

SEND IN A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU

Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?: I don’t think, they’re interested in each other’s clothes, their styles are too different, and I don’t see anyone of them as a person wearing the other’s shirt in the morning.

Who enunciates hand holding?: Probably Vic.Who likes having their hair washed by who?: Vic definitely. He loves to be pet and cared about, but he will never admit this aloud.Who likes to slow dance?: Henry.Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?: Vic.Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?: Vic.Who hogs most of the covers at night?: I don’t think it happens. Vic is bigger, but he always shares.Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?: Both equally. How do they share a desert? Two forks or one?: Two, and Vic always consumes more. Not greedy, just loves to eat.Who gets jealous more easily?: Definitely, Vic is the one who doesn’t cancelation his emotions when he’s jealous, but Henry is the one who’s constantly afraid to lose, but he will never show this.Who gets angered more easily?: Vic.How do they go to sleep at night?: Vic occupies most part of the bed or is the big spoon.Who gets the most shoulder rubs?: Both equally.What are their arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?: Quite often I’d say. Mostly because of Vic’s criminal lifestyle, sometimes about his smoking and Henry’s addiction. Vic is loud and does his best to not break things (what works not always), Henry mostly vocalizes his opinion in a peremptory tone and shuts off. Vic can storm out, but he always comes back and almost always apologizes first.Who is more likely to throw things in fights?: Vic.How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?: Vic always says ‘I love you’ first after the fight, and if he made a mess he would try to clean it up and fix things he broke. Henry is the first to touch and sooth, even if he is hurt more by their argument.Do they have nicknames for each other?: Vic calls Henry Doc very often, sometimes Dr. Strange, just to tease him. Henry, if he’s cross with Vic or wants to make a point, can call him Mr. Vega.Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?: Vic is the one to buy tons of meds, food and stuff that should cheer the other, fussing around with blankets, music, films, while sick Henry just wants to be left alone and has to tolerate his overattentive boyfriend. Henry’s approach is more professional obviously, and Vic hates it because he’s used to go through everything on his own and avoid hospitals by also obvious reasons.Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?: Henry.Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?: Vic would be the one to say ‘I told you so’. He’s a California guy and never get burnt, while Henry is not really used to the big amount of sunlight.Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?: Both, but sometimes Vic would start the argument about whose turn is this time.Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?: If Vic finds Henry crying he would talk to him from aside first, trying to find out the reason and asking how he can help. He would hug the other only when he gets the permission. Frustrated Vic usually needs the touch more than words, and Henry would give it to him before asking what had happened.What would they be like as parents?: They would be great dads. They both would make sure that their child is happy, safe and has all the love they needWhat would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?: Henry would be the one who does all the homework for Vic and gives the other his own lunch, and Vic would beat the crap out of bullies and protect Henry.Who enunciates taking a bath together?: Vic.Who likes who playing with their hair?: Vic adores Henry toying with his black curls (and tugging at them during sex).The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?: I can easily imagine them falling asleep together while Henry is sitting in his chair, reading something, and Vic just sitting at his feet like a big loving dog.

@aeternitasintricatae

[paladinsheadcanons]

I don't know if you've run out of ideas by now but how about more Sha Lin/Kinessa? Fluff or angst, up to you. I just need more ;A;

Me? Run out of ideas? For the OTP? Impossible. I hope you like college AUs, because I sure do! (Also because I’m suffering in school. Send help.)

- Mod Mal’Damba

Midterms were coming around and that meant students from all over campus were hunting down quiet study spots for them to hole up in for hours on end with nothing but a thermal flask full of coffee. That also meant that if you didn’t get there early, someone was going to take your spot.

Kinessa was a little frustrated to see that someone had taken her spot by the window at the library, forcing her to look elsewhere for a place to chuck down her books and notes and pens.

The library was chock full of study groups and loners, heads buried in books, flipping aggressively through pages looking for that one highlight they knew they took down some weeks ago. Unable to find a secluded spot from everyone else, the Literature major fled from the library.

All over the outside students were curled up under trees and on grass patches, hunched over notes and scribbling down flashcards and annotations. She wasn’t one to just sit outside in the open, so she kept on moving.

With no more classes for the day, she decided to just hitch a ride from one of her friends and just head out of campus and study in one of the cafes nearby instead. She was lucky enough to run across Cassie who was just getting in her car.

“Hey- wait up!” She flung the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat next to her friend. “Sorry. You don’t mind if I hitch a ride do you?”

Cassie laughed. “That depends, where’re you headed?”

“Uh, just any cafe. Some jackass took my studying spot in the library.”

“That sucks. Okay, cafe it is. I know the big ones are super crowded right now so we might just go a little bit further from campus if that’s okay? If you have class later I can just drop you off closer.”

“Nah, I’m done for the day. I just need a quiet place to hole up for the rest of the day.”

Cassie pulled the car out of the lot and took it out of campus. Kinessa watched as the car passed a couple making out in front of someone else’s car. “Don’t they have midterms too?” She muttered. Sure, some could deal with a relationship and study at the same time, but that wasn’t her. There wasn’t anyone who really caught her eye on campus anyway. 

Cassie drove past their dorm, heading further out from campus. As much as there was tons of cafes peppered around campus, they were all filled with stressed students looking to get their fill of coffee before holding out for the day, curled up on torn sofas and blocking out the noise of everyone else in the room. Knowing how much Kinessa liked true silence, she took her to a secluded coffee shop closer to the suburbs.

It was a small shop, wedged on a corner block, quiet and rustic. At first glance, there wasn’t anyone inside except the cashier. Kinessa was already in love with it. “Thanks so much. I’ll return the favour… eventually. When I get a car. Or I can just get you food tomorrow or something.”

Cassie laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your midterms!” She left Kinessa on the street, staring at the outside for a bit before wandering it.

It was most definitely quiet inside, wide windows letting in warm sunlight and dim, orange lights casting a golden glow on the inside of the wood-and-stone coffee shop. She was greeted by the cashier, a chipper girl who looked about her age, perhaps also a college student working a part time job to pay off the loans. 

After a moment of admiring the chalkboard menu and the glass display of cakes, she ordered a coffee and a slice of pie and looked for a comfortable seat, somewhere where she’d get as much of the natural light filtering in through the window, and near a light so that when it got dark she didn’t have to move around.

Looking around, she didn’t expect to see anybody, but found a very familiar someone from her class curled up in the corner, casually transferring his messy class notes into something more readable.

She liked being on her own, but if she had definitely noticed him. Maybe he could help her study anyway. Right? Right? Study groups never worked out because half her entire class wasn’t serious about it anyway, but it was worth a shot one more time.

“Hey- you don’t mind if I join you right?” Kinessa asked as she approached her classmate.

Sha Lin, in all his messy long hair and flannel, looked up in surprise at her presence. He didn’t realise she had come in, and quickly hid his messy notes under even messier books. “Oh hey! Nawh, it’s cool. Just ignore my notes, they’re horrible.”

She took a seat opposite him, letting herself sink into the comfortable faux leather. “Midterm stress?” She ventured, noticing his frantically taken class notes. Or maybe he was half asleep when he took down those illegible annotations.

“Yeah. You too? I thought you were always in the library.” He put down his pen which was quickly running out of ink to sip on his coffee that was turning cold soon. 

Kinessa arranged her notes neatly on one side of the table and flipped open her main notebook that held all her carefully taken notes in incredibly neat handwriting. “Some jackass took my spot. My fault for not getting there earlier, I got carried away with lunch with Evie and Ying.”

“I thought you didn’t like Evie,” Sha Lin mused, going back to his notes. His notebook was nowhere near as organised as hers, his words going off the lines, handwriting changing rapidly and ink leaving trails that shouldn’t have been there when his hand rubbed on wet ink. Arrows pointed everywhere and stuff was hardly readable. His handwriting was adorable when it was legible.

“She’s okay. Theatre majors are wild though.” He just hummed in response, and they lapsed into silence as they slowly chipped through piles of notes, reading, highlighting, understanding, complaining. She wasn’t even halfway through the stack of class notes when the sun began to make its descent beyond the glass buildings across the street. The pie had long since disappeared, leaving only crumbs on a plate. Sha Lin had gotten through another cup of coffee already. In the warmth, he shrugged off his flannel and sat there in his shirt and jeans.

Kinessa took a break from her notes, staring out of the window for a bit. The street was a little busier now that people began to leave work and go home, the sky painted with shades of pink and gold and casting the same light on people. From the street to the buildings her gaze drifted lazily, observing everything, soaking it all in. She enjoyed his presence, both of them quietly sitting in the light. It wasn’t like working with other study groups where they shifted and moved and complained. Just those few hours of sitting with him, occasionally looking up to watch the way his hands shifted and scribbled on paper was satisfying enough.

“You come here often?” She asked after hours of silence. Sha Lin glanced up, hair in his face. The red bandana he wore hardly kept his fringe away.

“If I got a ride, yeah. Why?”

Cassie had somehow decided to come by and pick her up again to head back to the dorms. She saw the black car pull up outside, Cassie rolling down the window to gesture for her to go. She pulled her gaze away from Cassie to observe Sha Lin again.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” She asked. If he was, then she had just found a new study spot. Sure, the drive would take away a few minutes that could have been used to cram notes, but that was okay. She could just stay up a little later back in the dorm to make up for it.

He shrugged. “Sure. You coming back here tomorrow?” He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but silently hope she would. He liked studying with her, even if they didn’t say anything.

Cassie honked her horn, beckoning from outside for Kinessa to get going. She quickly gathered her stuff, chucking everything into her bag. “See you tomorrow tiger.” She smiled, and rushed out of the door.

Cassie rolled her eyes as her friend got into the car. “Guess I’m driving you again tomorrow?” She asked, a smug grin on her face as she knew what Kinessa really wanted to go back for.

Sighing, Kinessa looked back at the cafe as Sha Lin returned to his work, not looking up again. “Yep.”