Just a thought

A place for my writings and any thoughts I might have. May not update frequently since I have a tendency to forget to post things over here as well. Ao3 username is same as here.

[starlightsmusings]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

dabihawks, angst

Summary:

Natsuo wants to learn more about the brother he wished he got a chance to grow up with, and Hawks might be the person to help him out with that.

It might make what's going to happen hurt more, but it might also help both of them find their own closure in the process.

[starlightsmusings]

Ao3

His mother would always tell him his heart was too big for his body. Even without a quirk, she had said, you have a hero's heart.

And he supposed she was right. Even as he got bigger, stronger, taller, adjusting to fit the borrowed quirk that was now his, it always grew faster than his body would. He forgave too quickly, and reached out to others without a second thought, always wearing it on his sleeve.

(Especially with Kacchan. Always Kacchan. Even when he really didn’t deserve it, Izuku could at least acknowledge that now, when Izuku would have been better off if he actually switched schools like his mother suggested again.)

But his big heart meant he was quick to latch onto Shouto.

(He loved Tenya and Ochako too, quick to form a friendship with them as well, but it was different with them. They were the friends he needed, ones he never had had before, and he learned later he was a friend that both had desperately needed in their own way. He knew he would do anything for them, but it wasn't the same thing.)

Todoroki who at first didn't speak to anyone, who left school the minute the last bell rang, who proclaimed that he was only here to train, not to make friends.

Todoroki who told him in that hallway about his family, who had fire in his eyes when he was challenged, ready to actually use his power, not his father's.

Todoroki, who somehow became Shouto after everything with Stain and the Training Camp, who learned he could rely on others. That he had Izuku’s back as much as Izuku had his.

Shouto who didn't quite get how to always act his age, still not used to actually being around people his own age without the pretense of some formal gathering under the careful watch of his father or the press, always confusingly asking Izuku to explain some term their classmates used, causing Izuku to turn bright red the moment it turned into yet another innuendo. Who was kept away from his peers, not because he wasn’t wanted like Izuku, but because he wasn’t allowed.

Shouto who finally started to relax, falling asleep more often than not on Izuku when they had long bus rides or while they attempted to study in the dorms. Smiling, small and barely there, when he talked about seeing his mother, trying to slowly mend their relationship.

Surprising Izuku, though looking back it really shouldn't have, when he kissed him before rushing off to that final fight with his brother.

Smiling as much as he could much later when Izuku returned it despite both of them being covered in bandages.

And things were good, at least as good as they could be all things considered.

Izuku had gone from being feared, to being praised, though he couldn’t help but hear those whispers still as they went about town on a few dates when they could escape, trying to just be normal for once. Shouto did his best, dragging Izuku away if they got too loud, glaring if there were only a few.

And Shouto…Shouto went and retreated most days into his own room when he had yet another interview, another round of questions, not for anything he had done, but what he remembered his father or brother doing. Some days he wanted to be left alone, others he let Izuku carefully walk in, wrap both of them up in a blanket, before letting himself be held in the dark room.

(Izuku and his mother had both agreed to give him a key to their small apartment for when things got to be too much at home with everything going on. It wasn't uncommon anymore for either of them to get up in the morning and find the dual-colored boy curled up under a blanket on their couch.)

One day, Shouto finally allowed himself to break down, crying as he told Izuku that he hadn’t realized it was that bad. He remembered his own training, how brutal it had been. But he had gotten used to it, it was all he had known for the longest time. He learned to control his tears and emotions until he was alone in his room, and even then remained silent in fear that his father would find out and make training that much harder the next day.

And then he learned of how his oldest brother, the one he didn't really know, went through the same, if not worse than him because he was the oldest, the first one their father attempted to 'train.' How his quirk didn't match his body, but was still forced to try harder, be better, only to be pushed aside, completely abandoned without a second thought the moment Shouto manifested his own.

How Fuyumi had to quickly fill the role of both the eldest sibling and a mother after losing both so quickly after the other. The only things she could do was try and stay calm, keep the only brother she was allowed to see out of too much trouble, and try and see her own mother once she was old enough to not need her father's permission to visit. If she stayed the good kid, she could only hope that one day she might be able to slowly patch their family together.

How Natsuo was the closest to Touya, and dealt with his disappearance the worst, trying to lash out when he could but knowing the small layer of ice he could form around himself would never be enough. He had grown up learning how to patch up wounds that Touya allowed him to see, which eventually led him to pursue medicine, trying to specialize in quirk-related side effects to help others like his brother he thought he lost.

And finally, his mother, who maybe once, long ago, did love his father as much as one could given their situation, but after failing time and time again to produce a worthy heir, she slowly broke as she became more and more terrified. She recounted some of what she had been through, shaking as she recalled the memories to the man questioning her. How she wanted to escape, but didn't know how. If she left, she would have nothing and four mouths to feed, not knowing where the next meal would come from or if they would even have a roof over their heads, and that's assuming they could even escape at all. She knew what her eldest had been through, what her youngest was currently going through. She wanted to be strong for them, find a way out.

But then she was sent away, for everyone's own safety, she was told. She had hurt Shouto, her mind not showing her the full truth of who was actually standing there until it was too late.

Then she heard of Touya’s memorial. An accident, they said. A flame burning too hot, too quickly for even Endeavor to handle.

(Somewhere, deep down, she hadn't believed it. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. She knew what they had all been through, and she couldn't help but hold on to that sliver of hope that Touya made it out alive.)

And Izuku cried along with Shouto, holding onto him because there wasn't much else he could do.

Things got better, slowly. Endeavor had been forced to retire, sent far away so they wouldn’t have to see him again. New ranks were given to all the heroes who were still active, memorials given to those who weren't. Shouto spent time with his siblings and mother, trying to get to know them after being forced apart, occasionally bringing Izuku who flushed bright red the moment he realized that Rei, and soon after Fuyumi and Natsuo, knew exactly who he was to Shouto.

They had never tried to hide it, his own mother knew and had welcomed Shouto right in, but they were still so new to the relationship and Izuku knew the entire family had recently been through so much. He wanted to wait, let them get used to him as a person, but Rei had taken one look at how close the two of them stood, and pieced together the bits of information her son had already told her, before pulling them both into a hug.

—

Before they knew it, they were moving back into the dorms with some new classmates as UA was still scrambling to adjust to the positions they hadn’t been able to fill, students who had been recommended to now be in the Hero Course, while others willingly switched to a Support Course.

Their class, their original class, still hung out frequently, they had been through too much together to not, and it wasn't uncommon for one of the teachers to find many of them asleep in someone's room each night.

(After the fourth time, Aizawa simply sighed and reminded them that he needed to know where they all were if anything were to happen, and that if he suspected anyone was taking advantage of what they had all been through, he and the rest of the staff were more than capable of doing room checks at all hours of the night, making sure it was something everyone would be subjected to regardless of if they participated or not.)

And Izuku, well, he tried to not read too much into how him and Kacchan would seek each other out most nights when their own nightmares were acting up.

They had been getting better, he reasoned. Kacchan had apologized, multiple times, mostly in his own weirdly aggressive ways, and Izuku had long since forgiven him. They trained together a few times a week, they could push each other farther, knowing each other so long they could easily point out things to work on, weak points the others missed, never letting the other fall too far behind since they were always going to be equals.

There was no point in being at the top if the other wasn't going to be there.

(Because it was always going to be them. Deku and Kacchan, Izuku and Katsuki. Where there was one, there was always going to be the other.)

And it wasn't like their respective boyfriends didn't know - Kirishima had been there, already curled up asleep on Kacchan's bed when Izuku had shown up one night, still shaking from the images of him not getting there soon enough, the sludge going too fast, him turning right instead of left.

Kirishima had tiredly shrugged before moving over so the three of them could fit on the bed, eventually throwing an arm around both of them by the time they all woke up.

Shouto had done the same, not even a week later, when Kacchan had shown up pale and ragged at his door, the note on Izuku's pointing him there. Words that had gone too far replayed in his mind, words he regretted never saying earlier, him not being able to move quick enough to take that hit for the other.

And it worked. Some days were better, others weren't, and on those days a combination of the four of them would end up in someone's room, normally Kirishima’s as he had been the one to decide to clear out enough of his own room to get a larger mattress to fit all of them.

But then, one day, months later, when Kirishima was home for the weekend, visiting his moms, and Kacchan was away, busy with his own internship, Shouto carefully, even shyly, mentioned to Izuku how he had grown a lot closer to Kirishima.

He was happy for his boyfriend. Shouto had been getting more comfortable about letting his guard down around others, relaxing more and more into friendships with most of their class. It made sense that he and Kirishima were getting closer considering the time all of them spent together.

But Shouto stopped him. Yes, they were friends, but he was positive there was something more. He loved Izuku, he quickly assured him, but his feelings for Kirishima were growing. They hung out when the other two were training or away on missions, settling into their own quiet routine of studying or watching movies when they were both free.

Neither of them had been quite aware of their own feelings until they nearly crossed a very obvious boundary, leaning in a bit too close before they caught themselves, deciding immediately for both of them to stop hanging out alone, process their own feelings, and, most importantly, talk to their respective boyfriends.

Shouto admitted he fully understood if Izuku wanted to end their relationship, or if he didn't, then he would also understand if he didn't want Shouto spending any time with Kirishima, especially alone.

But what surprised Izuku the most was the third option he was given.

In the process of figuring out his own feelings, Shouto had gone to Momo, one of the only other people he trusted to talk about this type of thing with, who in turn suggested something she was familiar with.

If everyone involved was on board, they could all be together, in whatever combination made sense for them.

It didn't have to be all four of them directly, she stressed. It could be Izuku and Shouto, Shouto and Kirishima, and Kirishima and Bakugou if that's what worked for them. If any other pairs came out of it, then so be it, but don't force anything to happen either.

But, most importantly, all of them had to talk, come to agreements and set boundaries if this was something they wanted to pursue.

(Shouto had tried pressing how she knew about this, as he was only aware of her relationship with Jirou, but she had remained quiet when asked.)

(Izuku had a hunch, but didn't want to assume.)

Shouto had left shortly after, explaining he wanted Izuku to think about all of his options without pressure. He knew Izuku well enough to know he would dive headfirst into something without always thinking it through. In a week, he would follow up, but it was fine if Izuku was still deciding at that time.

And after a kiss on the cheek, another assurance that he loved Izuku and would respect whatever decision he came to, Shouto left Izuku alone with his thoughts.

He wanted to run after Shouto, tell him it was fine, he would be too much of a hypocrite if he said no, but he knew the other was right. This wasn't a fight, where every millisecond could drastically change how it ended. He had time, he should research, know more about it before going into it.

Part of him wanted to talk to Ochako, since she was normally who he went to when he wanted to talk about his relationship, but he knew she was too invested and still felt a bit too negative about his and Kacchan's past to give advice. (That, and she had finally, finally, gotten with Tsu. He didn't want to bother their new relationship with a possible new development within his own.)

He thought of Tenya, before quickly dismissing it. Tenya was one of his best friends, sure, but he knew that since this wasn’t a standard relationship question, it would cause more confusion than what would be worth it.

He had carefully, tentatively, reached out to Shinsou after class one day. Someone who knew of their relationships without being too involved or too distant.

Shinsou had only sighed, muttering about how he must attract a certain group because this was the third time he was having this conversation, before letting Izuku into his room and ramble about all he had learned, about how he felt about the others.

(He wouldn't say who he had those other conversations with, though relented it wasn't Shouto, which only cemented Izuku's earlier thought.)

It had been good, getting his thoughts out. (He could have waited, he guessed, until he saw his therapist again, but that was a week away and he didn't want to wait that long.) He talked about how much he loved Shouto, how things just clicked between them. He knew it was silly, especially considering their age, but he knew they were going to stay together. They had a future together. It was as simple as that.

About how Shouto’s recent confession only shocked him because he hadn't known it was a possibility. He had harbored his own feelings for someone else for so long, assuming that they would never be returned, and even if they were, he was happy and very much in love with Shouto. He had decided long ago he was going to bury those other feelings, happy that they were slowly becoming friends again, both of them having good, loving relationships with people who reciprocated their feelings.

And if he can have such feelings for two different people, why would it shock him that Shouto did as well?

—

He waited the full week, knowing that Shouto would insist that he wait to make sure he was absolutely certain if he even thought of talking before then.

And then, after dinner, he heard a familiar soft knocking on his door.

There had been some crying, though that was mainly him as he was always quick to tears. Shouto hadn't spoken to Kirishima since that day, he admitted, but he hadn't noticed a change aimed at him from the loud blond, so he could only hope things were faring well.

(Izuku could only hope as well. Even if Kacchan was fine with whatever he and Kirishima came to, it didn't mean it was going to include them. But he could still hope.)

Shouto was the one to reach out, a quick message saying that he and Izuku had talked and came to their own conclusion, and wanted to talk to them.

There wasn't a responding message, but instead a quick series of knocks on the door not even ten minutes later.

(Izuku later realized that maybe they should have had the talk elsewhere on the chance it went south.)

It was awkward at first, too much nervous energy between the three of them, while the last was carefully watching all of them as he leaned against a free space on the wall.

Izuku was the one to finally break it, only due to his habit of saying everything that crossed his mind, heightened as he was so nervous. He asked Kirishima if he let Kacchan know what happened, and if so, how they wanted to proceed.

The past week, nearing two by now, had been tough, Kirishima admitted, but not necessarily because of what transpired between him and Shouto. It had been part of it, sure, as they acknowledged that it would mean that some change was going to have to occur, but what was worse was the sudden absence of the two of them any time outside of class. He glanced over at the blond before admitting for both of them that they had gotten comfortable with how it was between the four of them. Kirishima's room had felt empty, as it still was cleared out to fit the mattress that would fit all of them, and he hinted that the blond had been even more irritable than normal, resembling closer to his first year self, as he not only lost two sparring partners, but also the only other two he felt comfortable going to for most, if not everything.

They wanted to stay together, they knew that much, but they had to acknowledge what other emotions were forming.

The only problem was that neither of them knew what to do about it.

After glancing at Izuku, Shouto carefully explained what they had agreed on, though thankfully avoided directly mentioning Izuku’s feelings towards Bakugou.

Izuku watched as an excited grin appeared on Krishima’s face, and glanced at Kacchan, who’s eyes flickered between the rest of them, meeting Izuku’s more often than not. He thought he saw some disappointment on Kacchan’s face at the idea of no longer having Kirishima all to himself, but it was quickly replaced with a clear calculating look, trying to weigh all of his options before nodding, gruffly agreeing that it was probably the best choice.

They would need to talk more, he glared at them as he pointed out the time, when it wasn’t so late, after they all had at least one night’s rest to think it over. But it was definitely an option.

—

Watching Shouto get ready for his date almost two weeks later was…it was oddly nice, Izuku thought as he sat, trying to help him decide what to wear, before finally settling on a deep blue turtleneck and dark jeans with a simple silver bracelet on his wrist.

He was pretty certain Shouto had worn that, or at least something eerily similar, on one of their own dates. They were comforting to him, Izuku knew that, probably why Shouto had chosen them.

(He also couldn’t help but wonder if Kacchan was doing the same with Eijirou.)

Shouto looked stunning, he said, though he admitted he was very biased. It earned him a small chuckle, as he reaffirmed that by grabbing both hands and placing a quick kiss to Shouto’s temple, taking some of the tension away.

(Was Shouto ever this nervous before their own dates? He always seemed so collected by the time they met up, though maybe being able to see Shouto like this was a sign of how much they both had grown.)

Izuku decided to wait in his room for a while after Shouto left. They had all decided that it was just going to be the two of them, let Eijirou and Shouto get to know each other on their own without having to worry about being watched. He was hoping to catch up on homework to keep his mind occupied, knowing that Shouto would probably want to talk once the date was over.

And he was proven right, when a few hours later he heard soft murmuring at the door, a quick goodbye, and then retreating footsteps as a door closed. It only took a few minutes for Shouto to change and carefully knock on Izuku’s door.

There was a small, soft and warm smile on Shouto’s face as he buried himself in Izuku’s neck as they all but collapsed on the bed. Izuku ran his fingers through the red and white hair as he listened to the other talk about the date. There had been a new arcade that opened up that they decided to go to. It was quieter than most of the others and there was a decent variety in the games, maybe all of them should go together at some point, he hinted. No sudden loud noises or flashes of light to accidentally trigger one of them. There were even a few slightly more secluded areas with some old-fashioned games if things in the main area got to be too much. He and Eijirou had talked to one of the servers once they decided to stop for food, who mentioned the owner’s partner was a Pro who used to love going to arcades when they were younger, but after years of being in the industry, they had trouble even entering most arcades due to the noises and the games that were found in them. She had seen how much it bothered her partner to lose something they clearly enjoyed, so she made it her mission to open up an arcade that they, and others like them, could still go to.

They had held hands, Shouto blushed as he mentioned that, when they decided to venture over to the prize counter once they were done eating. There wasn’t any hero merchandise, which he was thankful for (while he doubted it would be there, he wasn’t sure what would’ve happened if he saw his now thankfully very-distant father’s face on the shelf), so they ended up exchanging small items. Shouto happened across a key chain with the arcade’s logo and what he could only assume was supposed to be a very round shark. Eijirou had dug through one of the bins before settling on a sheet of magnets from something neither of them were familiar with, but had a cat on it that Eijirou swore looked just like Shouto.

(Izuku had to agree once he saw it - there was one with a very vacant expression that Shouto frequented when he hadn’t been following along to the conversation, while another was clearly content and basking sleepily in the sun.)

The walk back had been nice. They leaned against each other on the train, chatting about whatever topic crossed either of their minds. He was pretty sure they almost kissed at one point, Shouto nuzzled a little further into Izuku as he said that. He wasn’t certain if he was upset that the train had jostled just so that it stopped them or not.

It had, unfortunately, made the remaining part of the trip a bit awkward, their conversation had become stilted after that moment, not quite able to pick up again.

Though they were still holding hands. He counted that as a win.

Izuku shifted both of them so they were under the covers before asking the question that he had been wondering about.

Shouto leaned in to kiss Izuku, both of them melting together for a moment. He enjoyed himself, he easily admitted, and he loved being able to return back to Izuku. If Izuku was still fine with everything, he wanted to continue.

Izuku rested their foreheads together with a smile on his own face. How could he refuse?

—

It took a few more months for them to settle into a routine. Some things hadn’t really changed between all of them - when nightmares or injuries happened, the rest were bound to show up eventually, all piling together on chairs or beds or whatever was available, and both of the initial couples still went on their own dates. Now though, Shouto and Eijirou started gravitating more towards each other, ending up next to each other or with Eijirou’s arm casually around Shouto, or Shouto’s chin propped up on Eijirou’s shoulder, instead of Izuku or Katsuki acting as a buffer like before.

(It had been oddly hilarious to watch their classmates' mostly confused faces each time it happened until they decided to explain the new dynamic to their relationship. As expected, a few didn’t get it, but there were more that simply nodded in understanding than they thought.)

Though, unfortunately, it kept reminding him that he still hadn’t made his own move.

Izuku had tried watching Kacchan, see if he could get any idea on how the blond felt about everything, but despite having years of practice, he still couldn’t get a good read.

There were times he was positive Kacchan was looking his way, staring a bit too long for the feelings to not be returned in some way, only for the blond to practically avoid him the next day. Sparring matches that got a little too intense, then a refusal to even look his direction once they started to cool down.

He had toyed with trying to see if he could convince Shouto to ask Eijirou for some information, but ultimately decided against it. He knew that Shouto was more than fine if he decided to pursue Kacchan, they had talked at length about that, and while it was never said out loud, he saw the looks the redhead gave them. He figured he must have a chance.

He finally got a moment with just the two of them as they watched Eijirou and Shouto walk through the gates on their way to some painting class from their position on Izuku’s balcony when he decided to try.

Mustering up the courage, he leaned into Kacchan more than he normally would, mentioning how happy the two of them looked, and maybe the two of them should try going on a date for themselves.

Only to feel the blond practically jump away with an almost terrified look in his eyes when Izuku dared to look.

(Had he read it wrong? He thought they were doing so much better, thought that they wanted the same thing.)

Kacchan hadn’t completely run away, at least not yet, so Izuku carefully positioned himself, stepping slightly back, fully facing the blond with his hands up while giving Kacchan plenty of space if he wanted to escape, and started doing the one thing he always seemed to default to: he started talking.

He wasn’t completely sure what he talked about at first, probably something about how he was sorry if he misread anything, or if that wasn’t something that he and Eijirou had ever discussed. He was more concerned with carefully watching Kacchan’s reactions. There was no angry popping, which was a good sign, but his eyes kept darting to the side and back depending on what Izuku said.

And then Izuku realized two important things he wasn’t sure how he forgot.

One, Kacchan had never been good at expressing his emotions, especially when he felt like he was being called out.

And two, there was a part of him still terrified he would repeat past mistakes.

When Izuku realized that, he carefully pulled Katsuki into a gentle hug, reassuring him that Izuku knew he regretted what he had done, that he was working on being better. That he had already made so much progress and that he wasn’t the same person he was before. Things were better, so much better between them now, and, Izuku quietly admitted, that he couldn’t picture a future without the blond by his side. Just like he knew almost immediately that he was always going to be with Shouto, he knew Katsuki was going to be there in some way as well.

It was hard to forget your first love, after all.

Kissing Shouto was gentle, but persistent. Neither wanted to be too far away once they started. It was rarely rushed, rather enjoying it as they relaxed into one another. The slow back and forth before they separated for the night, the light and barely there kisses on foreheads when they first saw each other each morning.

(He had seen how playful Kirishima was as he kissed Shouto or Kacchan, peppering small kisses across noses and cheeks, occasionally lightly biting them as well in between fits of giggles, careful to not use too much pressure. Shouto would return in kind, placing a few on his jaw or cheeks, while Kacchan was quick to throw an arm around the other, pressing them as close together as possible.)

But with Kacchan…His hands held onto Izuku carefully, like he was still afraid that Izuku was going to break or change his mind. Izuku had to lead, showing that he wanted this as well. He placed both hands on Katsuki’s face, pulling him close, but loose enough in case it got to be too much.

At some point they had to stop and catch their breath, leaning against each other as they all but collapsed on the bed.

Red eyes met his, blown wide as Katsuki realized what happened.

Izuku leaned in again, softly pressing their lips together before their eyes met again. He wanted this, he was sure of that, and he was more than willing to reassure Katsuki of that any time he thought otherwise.

He wasn’t naive enough to think it was going to be easy, because while they were certainly better than before, they both had things they needed to work through, some old wounds were bound to come up eventually.

But they both had a much better support system now, entire groups of friends who could keep them both in check, partners they could talk to when things got to be too much.

And they had each other, and there was no way Izuku was ever letting go again.

—

It had taken him longer than he cared to admit his own feelings towards Eijirou, nearing the middle of their third year, almost a full year after they first brought up the arrangement. With Shouto, things had been easy, pieces falling into place as they got to know one another. Kacchan had been loud but tentative, but they had always been with each other in some way. They were still working on a few things, but they were getting there.

But with Eijirou….

It wasn't like he ever hated him, far from it. He admired Eijirou’s bright attitude, how he kept trying even if things weren't in his favor. He could light up a room with that bright pointed-tooth smile.

But deep down, he reluctantly admitted to the redhead that he had been jealous at one point. Jealous of how seemingly easy he had been able to get Kacchan to be his friend when that's all he wanted for so long. Jealous that he had gotten the blond to finally open up, start showing he cared about other people. How he had gotten not only Kacchan to love him in return, but also Shouto, both of them understandably drawn to his warm energy and bright smile.

Eijirou, in turn, shyly admitted he was worried he was never going to be able to compete with Izuku. Izuku had a longer, stronger, history with both of them. He loved them, and boy did he love them all, but he had seen how Izuku helped Shouto through so much that their bond would never be broken, how Izuku and Katsuki always gravitated toward each other even at the beginning when things were still rocky between them, how the three of them were easily considered the next big three. They were all destined for greatness, it was only a matter of time before they left him behind.

(He knew they weren’t the only ones figuring out where they stood. Shouto and Kacchan still awkwardly danced around each other, trying to place how exactly they fit together.)

So they talked. It was what they both were good at, both rambling as they sorted through their own thoughts and feelings, but listening to the other as needed.

Izuku felt as Eijirou took his hand in his larger one, letting their fingers twist together. There was something there, both agreed on that, but it was just starting to make its presence known.

They had to let it play out, keep an open mind. If something was going to happen, it was going to happen.

They shared a short, soft kiss, before agreeing to turn in for the night. They hadn’t wanted to separate just yet, deciding to make their way to the large bed that remained in Eijirou’s room, curling up together under the many blankets after one of them texted their boyfriend’s where they were.

Izuku could only imagine Shouto’s soft smile as he carefully climbed in later, pressing himself against Izuku’s back and arm reaching over to hold Eijirou as well. Or Kacchan’s fond sigh, as he rearranged the blankets and pillows to cover all of them before climbing in himself.

And Izuku couldn’t help but smile as he woke up in a pile of limbs, blankets, and pillows, completely surrounded by his loving partners.

Maybe his heart was the right size after all.

[starlightsmusings]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hello yes, I still exist. I posted this last night on Ao3, forgot to post it over here.

I have a few other things in my drafts that I want to finish up, so hopefully I'll be posting again soon?

[starlightsmusings]

hey.

so, sorry for being quiet over here again. there’s just been a few different things that’s been happening including a very real possibility of me moving out in a few months. its a bit sudden but i’m hoping that it’ll work out for multiple reasons that i might talk about after it happens (if it ends up happening that is).

anyways, i just wanted to thank all of you for your patience and everything else. it really does mean a lot to me. 

hopefully you’ll be hearing from me soon.

[starlightsmusings]

Ao3

@promnisweek - Day 7: Bonus There weren’t many mornings that he let himself sleep in. Between years of going for early morning runs to lose weight when he was younger, to the training he endured for the Kingsglaive, his body was so attuned to rising with the sun that even after years of not seeing the sun, he was generally up at around the same time. And now that the sun was back, he rarely wanted to miss it.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him when he woke up later than normal in their bed alone.

Prompto groaned. On one hand, the bed was still warm and very much comfortable (it had been one thing they agreed to splurge on when they got the apartment), and he knew that neither of them had anything planned for the day. On the other, his nose was telling him that Ignis had starting making something delicious for breakfast and he could hear their dog impatiently darting around the kitchen.

His stomach made his decision for him when it started growling.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled as he slowly got out of bed. Prompto scanned the room in hopes of finding his sweatshirt he could’ve sworn he tossed on the chair they kept in the corner of the room. He sighed before giving up on it and grabbing a different one. It wasn’t as warm as the other one, but it would have to do for now. He stretched again, trying to shake the last of the cobwebs, before making his way over to the room where he knew Ignis was.

So that’s where it disappeared to…Prompto leaned against the doorway to their kitchenette when he saw the scene in front of him. Piper, an affectionate fluffy mutt that they had found while on a hunt a few years back, was sitting at Ignis’ feet, knowing that she would get at least some scraps if she sat there long enough. As if on cue, Ignis dropped a few pieces down to her that she was more than happy to have. Ignis looked like he had only gotten out of bed only a few minutes before Prompto had gotten up, if his lack of styled hair and the fact that he was still in what he had slept in, plus a newly acquired olive green sweatshirt, were anything to go by. Prompto thanked his lucky stars that he got the size that he did because while it swam on him, it seemed to fit Ignis almost perfectly. Any smaller and he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky as to see Ignis in it.

“Darling, you do realise I can hear you over there, correct?”

“Aw, Iggy. And here I thought I could just enjoy the view.” Prompto chuckled before moving next to Ignis, one of his arms wrapping around the other man’s waist. “So, what’cha makin’?”

Ignis turned his head to kiss Prompto on his temple before turning back to the task at hand, an old habit he had never quite kicked. “Nothing too special. Pancakes, bacon, and some eggs.”

“Still smells amazing.” Prompto leaned his head against Ignis’ shoulder. “Anything I can do to help?”

“There are some berries I picked up at the market yesterday on the table. Could you grab those?”

“You found fresh berries?” Prompto reached up to quickly kiss Ignis’ cheek before turning to look for the berries in question. While not impossible to find, many of the plants that used to have fruits or berries died off, and very few survived to see the new dawn. “What did I do to deserve you.”

“I could quite easily say the same.” Prompto could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

“Aw, Iggy. As much as I appreciate all the mush,” he said as he placed the container of berries within Ignis’ reach. “Isn’t it a tad early?”

Ignis laughed. “I do believe the day does call for it.”

“I guess you’re right.” A content sigh escaped Prompto’s lips as he leaned against Ignis again. “Happy Anniversary, Ignis.”

Ignis turned his head so he could meet Prompto for a kiss. “Happy Anniversary, Prompto.”

[starlightsmusings]

@promnisweek​: Day 6 - Dancing

AO3

1, 2,step. 1, 2, turn and step.

Prompto ran through the simple motions to help keep himself awake during his shift. The glowing blue runes should, in theory, keep all the daemons away while they slept, but after waking to having the daemons a bit too close for comfort a few too many times, they had quickly decided that they needed to take turns on watch during the night.

Step, turn, 1, 2, and 3 and turn.

After the first few nights, Prompto had realized that while he had gotten up that early in the past when he used to run every morning, since he wasn’t moving, it was nearly impossible to stay awake. He had tried playing a few games on his phone, but he always seemed to nod off after an hour or so. Taking pictures seemed to help, but most of the camps were half surrounded by rocks and trees and he could only get a few good photos without actually leaving the protective runes.

And turn and quick step.

It had felt a bit silly at first--dancing with no partner, to music that no one could hear but yourself, but he got used to it soon enough. He had also found that as long as he only kept one earbud in and as long as the music wasn’t too loud, he could typically tell when someone in the tent started stirring.

“You keep surprising me, Prompto.”

He turned a bit too quick at the sound of Ignis’ voice and ever-so-gracefully landed on his ass.

“Oh, Igs. G’morning!” He managed to stutter out. “I was just, uh…”

“I didn’t realised you danced.” Ignis held out his hand to help Prompto back up.

“My parent’s idea.” Oh Astrals, is he smiling? “Only did it for a few years though. A lotta people dropped it so I did too.”

“I’m sure it helps to have someone to dance with. May I?”

It was only then that Prompto realised that they were still holding hands from when Ignis helped him up, causing him to jump a little.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Prompto quickly said when he noticed the concerned look on Ignis’ face. “That would be fine. Totally cool.” With his free hand, he managed to grab the other earbud and offered it to Ignis. “This might help.”

“Thank you.” Ignis carefully placed it in his own ear before moving both of them into a typical dancing position. “Shall we?”

The song started slow, and to Prompto, he couldn’t figure out which of the few Waltzes that he kept on his phone. Ignis, on the other hand, seemed to recognise it enough to start moving. It wasn’t much, a few simple steps and the occasional turn. Prompto soon found himself relaxing into Ignis’ lead, and even laughing when Ignis decided to do a much grander turn than any of the others, which caused Ignis to softly laugh in response.

As the song ended, the two slowed down until they were practically standing.

“You were right. It’s a lot better when you have someone to dance with.”

“Anytime, Prompto.”

There was rustling noise followed by a loud snore from the tent which startled both of them.

“I suppose I should start breakfast.” Ignis sighed, his hand leaving Prompto’s as he adjusted his glasses.

“Do you want help?” Prompto noted that Ignis’ other hand hadn’t left its place on his waist just yet.

Ignis seemed a little surprised, still unused to anyone offering to help, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “I would appreciate the help if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Anytime.”

Prompto decided that he was more than OK taking early watches if this was going to become part of their morning routine.

[starlightsmusings]

Also on AO3

Promnis Week Day 2: Pining

“Hey does Specs always make all the food on his own?”

“I guess.” Noctis didn’t take his eyes off of his game as he responded. “He did in the Citadel, and both Gladio and I were banned from the kitchen ages ago. I don’t think we ever got the OK to return.”

Prompto shifted in his seat, his game on his phone forgotten for the time being. He had never been told the full details, but knew one involved something catching on fire and the other was very...odd combinations of food.

He knew the two of them well enough to know that it was probably better if he didn’t know what exactly happened.

“It just that,” Prompto started. “He already does a lot. Like he makes us food, and drives us everywhere--”

“Which we were also banned from doing.”

“”And he also makes sure we’re all stocked with curatives and keeps track of our budget.”

Noctis was definitely giving him that look now. The ‘are we really discussing this’ look which seemed to have gotten more frequent over the past few weeks.

“And it feels like he’s always doing something for us. Like does he even sleep? He’s up before any of us and is always drinking Ebony and--”

“I’m sure he would be more than happy if you offered to help.”

Prompto was startled for a moment before he switched to fiddling with the chains attached to his belt. “You think?”

Really, if it was up to him, Noctis would’ve probably locked them in a room together a long time ago. Gladio had talked him out of it...for now. After dealing with Ignis seeming a little too interested in what Prompto liked to eat and what his hobbies were, and Prompto not so subtly try and spend time with Ignis, and both of them attempting to carry on a normal conversation while attempting (and failing) to hide their actual feelings, Noctis wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

He sighed in relief when he saw the man in question step back into the camp with the bag that they kept their food in. “Positive.”

Prompto gave a quick nod before summoning his courage and practically sprinted over to Ignis.

“Hey, Iggy! Want some help with dinner?”

Noctis relaxed back into his chair once he noticed a very-present smile on Ignis’ face. As curious as he was, he thought better of it and turned his game back on, giving the other two at least a small veil of privacy without being obvious.

“I told you we didn’t need the room.”

“I’m still not thoroughly convinced,” Noctis said without bothering to look up as Gladio sat next to him.

“They’ll get around to it when they’re ready.”

“Yeah, 10 years from now when Specs has decided he’s planned enough of my life and when Prompto finally works up the courage to talk to him on his own.”

Gladio attempted to quietly laugh and motioned to the other two. “I think you give them too little credit.”

Prompto was leaning against the table that they set the stovetop oven on and was animatedly talking about something that was making Ignis smile and occasionally chuckle as he was cooking whatever they were having for dinner.

Noctis switched his focus back to his phone in his hand, feeling too weird to continue watching them.

“I say we leave them on their own in the next town.”

Gladio laughed again. “I’m totally on board with that. I’m just saying it won’t take as long as you think”

He glanced up again after a few moments to see that Prompto was now standing next to Ignis with their shoulders touching. Prompto had probably made some excuse about seeing how the food was made, but was probably sneaking glances when he thought Ignis wasn’t looking. Ignis was most likely doing the same, but was undoubtedly more subtle.

Then one of them happened to shift just right or breathe in the wrong direction and then there was nearly a foot in between them again.

“I’d rather not take my chances.”

[starlightsmusings]

AO3 Link

Promnis Week Day 1:  First meeting /  “Can I take a picture of you like this?”

Prompto struggled with the drawstring on his now too-loose sweatpants. Every time he managed to tie a knot, it always seemed to loosen just enough for the pants to feel like they were falling off, or occasionally the knot would be so tight he could feel every inch of the rope dig into his skin. Part of him knew he should just get new pants, and part of him knew school was still a month away and he was planning on exercising every day between now and then.

He sighed before tugging the knot one last time, hoping that it would stay for at least half his run. He slipped his shoes on, put his music on, and locked his door behind him before starting his morning run.

When he first started running, he ran in the afternoon.To him, it made sense. A lot of people ran in the morning, and he could avoid running into (more fit) runners by going in the afternoon, plus it gave him the morning to do chores or, if he was truthful with himself, to sleep in on days he wasn’t in school.

After a few afternoon runs, he realized that the morning joggers had the right idea.There were too many people in the afternoon and it was too hot to run even a short distance most of the time. He tried going whenever he woke up for the day, but found he was still having to awkwardly jog around people, which meant he still had to deal with staring from everyone. Even the quieter pathways were still pretty busy so he knew he had change when he ran.

Mornings were, generally, a lot better. Sure, getting up early still sucked, but having to only deal with other joggers, who were often too focused on their self to pay him much attention, and the occasional shop owner who was fine having him help out in exchange for food was totally worth it.

“Mornin’, Prompto!”

“G’morning Miss Rosa!” He slowed his jog down as he approached her as she finished unlocking the door to her bakery. “Need any help this morning?”

The brunette chuckled. “I was hoping you’d ask. I have a couple of things that I can’t move on my own, and Emily won’t be up for at least an hour...”

“Just point the way!” He ducked into her store and immediately saw the bags of flour and other ingredients next to the counter.

“The delivery man came right as we were closing so we didn’t get a chance to move them.”

Prompto picked up the first bag, shifting it so he could at least see around it. “Put it in the kitchen?”

“Oh, Prompto. Let me help--”

“Nope!” He quickly turned so the bag was out of her reach and started moving towards the back of the shop. “I got it. And b’sides, you shouldn’t be lifting anything.”

“You’re just as bad as Emily.” Rosa put her hands on her hips, which only accentuated her ever-growing stomach. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

Prompto didn’t bother responding when he came to pick up the next bag.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’m going to check what’s in the oven. If a customer comes in while I’m finishing up, can you at least greet them?”

He shrugged as best as he could while holding the bag. He didn’t expect anyone to come in this early, so he didn’t see it being an issue.

The bell on the door dinged just as he placed the third bag in the supply room. He looked over to Rosa only to have his hopes squashed as she was still very obviously getting a few more things ready to sell.

I can totally do this. It’s only one person….I hope.

“Good morning!” Prompto started as he walked into the room. “Is there anything I can...help you with?” He barely managed to get the words out once he took a look at who was in the store. The man who had entered the store was definitely not from this part of town--His glasses alone probably cost more than Prompto’s entire wardrobe, and his entire outfit seemed to be coordinated down to the last detail. Prompto awkwardly reached up to adjust his own tape-covered glasses, and then his shirt in a futile attempt to look slightly more put together.

“Yes. I was hoping to procure a few loaves of bread.” Plus apparently an accent that he hadn’t heard before.

Prompto nodded before realising that the man wasn’t looking in his direction. “You, uh, came to the right place then.”

“Do you happen to have any whole grain or sourdough?” he asked, turning to face Prompto.

He has really nice eyes. Prompto shook himself to stop his thoughts, though that didn’t stop his face from heating up. “The sourdough is over there on the wall, and if you want to wait a bit the whole grain will be ready.”

The other man thought for a moment. “Unfortunately, I’m on a bit of a schedule. They’ll just have to live with sour dough I suppose.”

“Oh.” Prompto paused for a moment. “I don’t know what exactly your tastes are, but I’ve always liked the rye. I mean, I all the options are good and I only get it occasionally and its normally a day or two after.” He quickly shut his mouth once he realized he was rambling.

The man gracefully adjusted his glasses before speaking again. “It’s not typically what we get, but it wouldn’t hurt to broaden our horizons.”

Prompto nodded and put the loaves in a bag as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t make a bigger fool out of himself. He almost managed the full transaction without too much more of a hiccup, but then they happened to touch as he was handed the money, which caused almost all of it to fall on the counter. The other man started to apologize and help Prompto pick up the money, but he had somehow managed to gather all of it to his own side.

“I, uh, got it. Thanks though.”

He let out a shaky exhale when the man finally left the store. Dealing with people, he decided, was definitely not his strong suit. Especially well-dressed men with accents and very nice eyes.

“So, who was the guy I just missed you fawning over?”

“Rosa!” Prompto whined. “Why didn’t you help me?”

“I’ll need a story to tell at your wedding one day,” she teased before handing him a bag with a few loaves of bread.

“I’m not helping you anymore,” Prompto grumbled.

“Sure, Prompto. I’ll see you in the morning.” She started guiding him out of the shop. “And who knows, maybe he’ll be back tomorrow!”

Prompto could only groan since he knew she wasn’t going to drop it any time soon.

Over the next few weeks, he still occasionally helped out at Rosa’s bakery in the morning, but as he geared up for school starting, he started his morning runs a little earlier and had to actually stick to a schedule. She still teased him about the man who had stopped in, especially since he was now somewhat of a regular at her store. According to Rosa, he actually wasn’t that much older than him and was finishing up school fairly close to where Prompto was going to school.

Prompto knew she meant well, and that she really just wanted to make more friends closer to his age, but well, after miraculously befriending the Prince, the guy he had only met once wasn’t as much of a priority in his mind.

“Hey, want to hang out tonight?”

“Uh, sure. If you don’t mind.”

“Sweet. I’ll text Specs to pick us up.”

Within minutes a car had pulled up in front of their school and Noctis got in, motioning Prompto to follow him.

“Did you two have a good day at school?”

Prompto froze as he was putting on his seatbelt. It couldn’t be.

“It was boring.”

“Then I’m assuming that your homework won’t take you that long to finish tonight then.”

Prompto quickly finished putting his seatbelt and turned his attention to anywhere he didn’t have to make eye contact with the man who was driving. He knew he was probably bright red and drawing the attention of him anyways, though I doubt he even remembers me. He was thankful that Noctis and the other man were talking because he knew would turn into a bumbling mess if he were to try right now.

The drive itself was luckily very short, though it did not stop his brain from running a million different scenarios in his brain.It took him a few moments to realize that they even stopped and that Noctis was already getting out of the car.

“Prompto.”

He managed to look up and meet the other man’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“The rye was an excellent choice. Thank you for the recommendation.”

“I, uh. You’re welcome?” He managed to stammer out. Without another thought, he started getting out of the car. “See you inside?”

Prompto thought he heard a soft laugh, but he was pretty sure his ears were playing tricks on him.

“You most certainly will.”

Prompto gave him a quick nod before following Noctis inside one of the many doors.

Well, maybe they would be seeing more of each other than he ever thought they would.

[starlightsmusings]

Also just to let everyone know--I started a new job this week! It'll take me a bit to get used to it, but the commute and pay are better than my old job, plus I won't have to work weekends anymore, which gives me a lot more free time. So yeah, once I'm a bit more settled I'll be (hopefully) able to post more frequently

[starlightsmusings]

Ao3

Yuri could feel every single muscle in his leg protest as he tried to push himself further into a split. He knew his physical therapist would have a cow if he saw him, but whatever. He had been the one to say that Yuri could finally return to the ballet studio anyways.

He pushed himself a tiny bit further, for once grateful of how much he had grown since his injury, so he could grab his phone. ‘Officially-Retired’ Victor had sent him (and probably a few others) a picture of him and his latest student (some blonde kid that Yuri knew he had met at some point) with the caption ‘First training session of the season!’.It was only about 10 minutes since the picture was sent, and had probably been taken hours earlier, but Yuri was willing to bet that the kid was already regretting his decision. Victor may not have had the most amount of coaching experience, but he knew how to push people to their limits. Or at least he pushed Yuri to his limits for the two years he trained under him.

His leg twinged again as he tried to flatten it against the floor. He could barely remember a time where he couldn’t do a near-perfect split. If anything, he used to naturally go into some form of split when he had to sit for any length of time. Now he knew that his left leg would be back in a splint if he pushed it too far. So he shifted himself so his left leg wasn’t stretched out as he continued to go through his feed.

Nothing was too out of the normal. Other-Yuri had taken a picture of his students, Phichit looked like he was all dressed up for an ice show, Mila had posed progress pictures of hers and Sara’s house, and Isabella was posting more and more updates on the twins (he had hidden JJ from his feed long ago because he posted at least 10 times as much as his wife).

A new notification popped up on his phone, followed quickly by another.

Beka: why did you convince me to get a cat

Yuri started laughing when he saw the picture that Otabek sent him. One of the chairs that Otabek had kept all (or, probably most) of the stuffed bears he had received from family and friends, now had an extra tabby cat sleeping quite content in the middle of it.

Beka: I was searching for her for hours and then this is where i find her

Yuri: it is a comfortable spot

It was right next to a window, so the sun always hit it just right, and since Otabek had a tendency to forget to clear off the spare bed (or in many cases, didn’t know he had to clear it off), Yuri had gotten to enjoy an afternoon nap in the sun plenty of times when he visited.

Yuri: unlike this

He snapped a quick picture to prove his point. His left leg was still tucked below him, and his right was fully stretched out, though most of that was blocked due to his hair that was now down to his waist when standing. A very blank and artificially lit dance studio was a far cry from a comfortable couch in the sun.

Beka: They finally let you back in the studio? That’s good.

       : Don’t overstretch though. We don’t need you back in a brace.

Yuri put his phone to the side again. They would talk later anyways. Now, he wanted to test and see how much he could still do after a year out of the studio.

“You were at the studio yesterday, weren’t you?”

“What of it?”

“Yurochka, you’ll hurt yourself again.” Nickolai made a pointed look at the leg that had a temporary brace on it.

“My doctor wants me to wear this a few days of the week,” he said, shifting his weight to attempt to hide his leg from his grandfather’s sight. “And he even encouraged me to go back to the studio. He said it should do me good to get moving again.”

They continued getting dinner ready in an awkward silence. Yuri knew that his grandfather thought that his injury was somehow his fault when it really wasn’t. Yuri had moved to Japan so Victor could coach him for a second year, and Yuri had been trying to perfect a jump sequence. Victor had even told him to stop--he was pushing himself too far.  He had yelled back that he was fine, and overspun the next jump. There had been a strange sting of pain up his leg when he fell, but he brushed it off, wrapped it up, and put ice on it when he got back to his room. He thought nothing of it when it was still sore the next day. And the day after. And then, during a simple warm-up jump, his leg gave out on the landing.

The following week had passed in a blur. The doctors had mainly spoken Japanese and broken English, but he got the general message: Even if his Grandfather was the one who introduced him to skating, it was his own fault he wasn’t going to be competitively skating again.

The evening came and went, just like the next few weeks that followed. He had physical therapy twice a week, and would go to the dance studio on the other days when he knew no one else would be there. He would sometimes eat lunch at his own apartment, and sometimes eat at one of the local restaurants depending on his mood, and normally use that time to catch up on the daily gossip on his different social networks. He did get the occasional fan who found him when he was running errands in the afternoons. Yuri gave them a fake smile, a quick autograph, and sometimes a picture if he felt like it before continuing his errands.

Yuri: beka i need a change

     : i’m so bored

     His fingers hovered over his phone, still deciding if he should continue.

Fuck it.

Yuri: can i visit?

His heart was beating much too fast after sending it. It was probably because it was normally Otabek who had visited him, not the other way around. (He knew it wasn’t).

Beka: when were you thinking?

The moment he got home, he started looking up flights to Kazakhstan. By the end of the week, he was impatiently waiting for the flight to land.

His knee was bothering him from being cramped in the small space for so long, and he had to awkwardly bend himself when he got up to not hit the ceiling of the plane (something he was still not used to), and was positive that every single person was moving as slow as they possibly could.

Otabek had greeted him with a small smile and wave, and an extra helmet in his other hand.

“You’ve gotten taller.”

Last time they saw each other, they were eye-to-eye. Yuri had at least a couple of inches on Otabek now.

“Side effect of not constantly training. So there’s hope for you yet, shrimp.”

Otabek let out a small laugh before turning to where the exit was. “Maybe I should leave you here then.”

“Rude,” Yuri teased, easily catching up to Otabek, and following him to where his motorcycle was. Yuri adjusted himself and his bag was with practiced ease, and it wasn’t long until the two of them reached their destination.

“Tasha!” The blond clicked his tongue a few times when he walked in the door.

“Sure, she’ll come to you when you call her,” Otabek grumbled as he moved into the room. “Traitor.”

“She missed me.” He held up the loudly purring cat in his arms to prove his point. He missed not having his own cat at his own apartment (stupid 'no pets' policies), so he spoiled Tasha whenever he visited. “Haven’t you girl?”

Tasha just continued to purr and press her face into Yuri.

Just getting out of his apartment was nice, he decided as he was stretched out on his favorite couch in the whole apartment with Tasha happily sleeping at his side. No appointments to go to, no errands to run, just relaxing in the sun on a comfortable couch.

“Did you really end up sleeping out here?” Otabek appeared from around the corner. “I do have a spare room, you know.”

“It’s comfortable,” Yuri mumbled into one of the many bears that surrounded him.

A moment of silence is quickly filled with a mix of a surprised shriek and laughter.

“Beka! Beka, stop!” He’s breathless and there’s tears in his eyes as Otabek surprised him with a tickle fight, obviously deciding that Yuri was too comfortable. He hears Otabek start to laugh in response. It’s softer and deeper than Yuri’s, but it’s infectious.

After a few minutes, both had given up the tickle fight and they somehow ended up laying down with his head on Otabek’s shoulder, and one of his arms draped over Otabek’s stomach. He could feel the other man’s fingers run through his hair, practically lulling him back to sleep.

Otabek cursed when his phone made a noise, which caused him to shift from under Yuri. “It’s my coach. I gotta--”

“Beka, we talked about this. Go to practice.” Yuri saw the look of concern flash across his face. “It’s fine. I’ll be here until you get back.”

He nodded in response, and gathered his things before heading out the door.

In a way, Yuri was glad to see him leave. Things were once again crossing that fine line they had been walking for years. Yuri would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted the older man and had been for quite some time. It had been easier to deal with before the accident. They saw each other a few times a year in person, normally during the off-season and occasionally at competitions, and kept in contact via text messages and skype. Yuri could shut up whatever emotions he was feeling by spending more time at the rink or the dance studio. He could practice until his only thoughts were what was the next step in the sequence or how far he could stretch his body.

At the time, he knew that they were both so busy that a relationship just wasn’t in the picture. Other-Yuri and Victor, along with many others, were living proof that couples that were both athletes rarely had time for each other. Victor had gone back to coaching after a year of his so-called return, and other-Yuri lasted another year before becoming an instructor in his hometown so they could actually spend time together outside of training. Many other couples only lasted a few months before deciding that the conflicting schedules wasn't worth the energy. Mila had a long list of previous partners that fit into that category. (Sara had almost fallen in that group too, but the two of them had somehow made it work).

But now that Yuri was no longer competing, things had gotten tricky. Otabek had been one of the first ones who saw him in the hospital, and had spent a couple of extra days there much to his coach’s dismay. (Yuri knew he would have stayed longer if he hadn’t yelled at him to get back to practice so he could win gold for him). Which then meant that Yuri a lot of time to think about the feelings that he had been pushing out of his mind. Everything had hit him like a ton of bricks. Every skype call, every quick meet-up between competitions, every funny cat video at 2 AM when neither could sleep. It was the cafes they would find when they would explore the cities. The motorcycles rides that let them escape from everything for a bit. The drawers that each of them had at the other’s apartment full of their own things.

He had wanted to avoid the other man so he could let his emotions run their course. He had tried convincing himself that they would go away if he didn't see or hear anything relating to Otabek, but they had been so interwoven in each others lives over the past few years that Yuri only lasted a few weeks before giving in and calling Otabek to just see how training was going.

He made a promise to himself that he was going to wait to mention any feelings until things had calmed down for both of them. He didn’t want Otabek to completely mess up the season all because Yuri decided to open his big mouth.

Yuri had surprised everyone by showing up to the GPF only a few months after his accident. He wasn’t fully healed by any means, and he hated having all the pitying eyes on him, but it was all worth it when he saw Otabek’s surprised and excited face. When they had talked the previous week, Otabek had let it slip that he doubted his mother or sister were going to be there, and that his coach’s partner was due any day now to have their kid, so he was nervous thinking about how he might have no one to help him get through the competition.

The tabloids had run rampant, saying how they were the latest power couple or that Yuri was following Victor’s footsteps. It really didn’t help that Otabek’s coach ended up leaving right before his final performance due to a call from the hospital saying that the kid was on it’s way, and Yuri had offered to sit at the Kiss and Cry so he wouldn’t have to deal with the reporters on his own.

The reporters had run through the normal questions that Yuri had already answered multiple times while Otabek had been getting ready. No, he wasn’t planning on returning to professional skating. By the time he healed and got back to training, he would be too far behind. Yes, his injury was healing nicely and he should be out of the massive brace soon. Yes, he did wish he was out on the ice but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He offered no comment as to why he had shown up for Otabek rather than someone from his own country.

Otabek’s performance had been stunning. Yuri had wanted to run up and hug him when he had stepped out of the rink, but his leg hadn’t cooperated with him, so he offered a quick congrats and a shy hand to hold as they nervously waited for the results.

To many, Otabek’s face barely changed when his results were announced. Yuri knew better. Otabek’s brown eyes had a brighter shine to them, there was a small upturn to his lips, and his grasp on both the bear in his lap and Yuri’s hand had gotten tighter with excited shaking. Otabek would excitedly ramble about it later when the words he wanted had formed sentences, but for now he was just going to let the fact that he had scored a personal best sink in.

They skipped the banquet that night, which ended up causing even more rumors. Neither of them cared though. Celebrating Otabek’s gold by driving around the city with just the two of them was ten times better than going to any party.

If there was one thing Yuri hadn’t missed about competitive skating was all the paparazzi and obnoxious fans. They had somehow managed to miss most of them at the GPF, but being in the heart of the city where the current top male skater was training meant that they were rarely left alone once they left the apartment.  

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Otabek said as they rode around on the bike, attempting to lose the last few who were following them. “You came here to relax and instead you have to put up with them .”

“At least they aren’t another ‘Yuri’s Angels.’” He shuddered at the memory. There were still a few around, but most of them had abandoned him for someone else sometime between his accident and his latest growth spurt. “I wouldn’t have minded if we had stayed at the restaurant.”

“It’s an annoyance we don’t need.” Otabek didn’t like to open up to many people which meant he did whatever he could do avoid talking to paparazzi or fans unless his coach was requiring it.

So they continued to ride around the different streets of Almaty until Otabek had decided it was safe enough for them to eat at one of the small cafes that were tucked away on a side street that Yuri would have never have gone down. Either way the food was good and it took Otabek out of the sour mood he was in, and that’s all that really mattered to him.

“My mom said that she would love seeing you while you’re here if you don’t mind going to the outskirts of Almaty.”

The movie that they had put on was quietly playing in the background as neither of them were particularly interested in it. The only reason it was still playing was because of how comfortable the two were on Otabek’s bed. Pillows had been gathered from most of the rooms so they could have pillows behind them and beside them. Otabek had put his head against Yuri’s shoulder awhile ago and hadn’t bothered to move it, and Yuri had returned the favor by leaning his head against Otabek's.

“She hasn’t seen you since….”

“Since my fall.” Besides the surprise visit at the GPF, Yuri hadn't left Moscow.  He didn't want to deal with most people on a normal day, much less when he was in an early forced retirement due to a busted leg.

“She missed you.” I missed you . “I managed to convince my coach to let me have the next two days off so if you wanted to we could see her.”

He thought about it. Otabek’s mom was quiet like her son, which is probably why he liked her almost right away, and she was a great cook, but she always had a look on her face that made Yuri feel like she knew what exactly he was thinking. And considering how his thoughts had been revolving around the same thing, or rather person ,  he knew he was going to get even more questions than normal.

“Yuri, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“What are we?”

Shit. He felt Otabek tense against him. He knew he should have held his tongue. But once again his mouth was three steps ahead of his brain.

It was eons later when Otabek had shifted himself into a sitting position facing Yuri, who in turn shifted so he was sitting more upright.

“What do you want us to be?” Otabek’s voice was hesitant. The words he wanted had been taking too long to form, and knew that if he took to long saying anything, the blond in front of him would shut himself away.

“I don’t want to lose you.” There goes his mouth again. Yuri knew he was bright red by how hot his cheeks and ears felt.

Yuri was shocked when he heard soft laughter from the other man.

“You could never lose me.” Otabek reached up and brushed Yuri’s long hair out of his face, his fingers lingering there for an extra moment. “Promise.”

“I don’t want to be just friends.”

“Then we won’t be.” He made it sound like it would be easiest thing in the world. And maybe it would be. “We’ll call our outings ‘dates’ from now on. ” His hand trembled slightly against Yuri’s cheek. “And I’ll kiss you. A lot. If you let me.”

It wasn’t as awkward as Yuri had expected it to be to kiss his best friend (or maybe he should start saying ‘boyfriend’?). If anything, the kiss filled him with warmth. He wanted it again and again until the two somehow managed to lay back down and simply look at each other. He could tell both were bursting at the seams with a newfound giddiness and yet completely exhausted from the day.

Tomorrow. He would tell the world tomorrow about how Otabek was his, and only his. They would take the obnoxious selfies that every couple they knew took. Otabek’s barely used instagram would be filled with pictures of him and Yuri, and Yuri would gladly upload a few to Facebook just to show off. They would have to turn their phones off to ignore all of the notifications and calls and texts they would both get, which would be fine because they would be out of the city where the cell service was horrible anyways.

But for now, Yuri was more than content to fall asleep in Otabek’s arms.

[starlightsmusings]

My Mark and Yours

Pairing: PruCan

Prompt: PruCan Week Day 3:  Fate/Soul Mates

Ao3 link

Having a soul mark had never bothered her.

Scratch that, the idea of having a soul mark never bothered Madeleine. It meant that, at the very minimum, there was someone out there who was made for her. Some would coo over how romantic it was, and others couldn’t wait until they found someone they could completely confide in. Really, she counted herself lucky to be among the small percent of the population who had one.

Well, she would, if it wasn’t for the large bold pattern on her neck.

It wasn’t as bad when she was small--most people thought it was cute, or if they were far enough away, thought it was a large birthmark. It was a little worse in grade school, but Maddie always shrugged it off as she was one of the 3 in her class with a soul mark, and the only one with it easily visible.

She grew her hair out at first, hoping it would help cut down on the teasing from other students about how she must think she’s so much better than them for having a soul mark. Then came the scarves, and occasionally the turtlenecks and sweaters when the teasing switched from her having a soul mark, to her still having a soul mark. High school had been kind to the few who had marks, letting them change from either black or white, to a color that was only a few shades different from their skin, once they met their other half.

And yet Maddie’s still remained a bold black against her pale neck.

So, she delved into her studies and, surprising many, hockey, which eventually led her to get a pretty decent scholarship at a college far enough away from her hometown.

A whistle sounded, marking the beginning of the first official match of the season against a local school. Maddie moved on instinct, following the puck and trying to dodge other players whenever possible. It wasn’t an easy task, she realized after being slammed into the wall once again, as the other team had significantly improved since their previous match.

Gathering all of her annoyances from the week and turning it into fuel, she pushed herself harder, ignoring whatever bruises she could feel forming on her skin,and even ignoring the strange warm sensation on the side of her neck.

Maddie grimaced as she sat down on the sidelines, trying to avoid the large crowd that had formed, after their barely successful first game. She knew she would never hear the end of it from her teammates if she left right away, and while a warm bath sounded like heaven to her sore limbs, dealing with whatever her teammates dealt to her probably wouldn’t be worth it.

There were times that she wanted to be apart of the crowd, but most of her teammates were surrounded by their family members that could make it, different friends, and even a small handful had whomever they were dating there. But, her family was at least a few states away, and the same for most of her friends.  And as for someone she was dating…..

Her hand instinctively went to where her mark was. She had tried getting into the dating scene before, but once people saw her mark, most hadn’t bothered to keep in touch.

That’s weird, she thought as her fingers moved over her neck. She could normally feel small rise on her skin where her mark was, but she couldn’t feel anything.

Maddie glanced around quickly, and was glad to see that most of her teammates had made their way out of the arena, meaning she could finally escape into her dorm room.

She wanted to scream.

Actually, she probably did scream. She wasn’t quite certain. The only thing she was positive about was that the large mark that had covered her neck for the past 19 years had faded so it was barely visible against her skin.

Maddie’s hands were shaking as she tried scrolling through her phone, attempting to think about who she should talk to. She could call her parents, but they might only offer awkward congratulations before asking about her day. Her sister would squeal and probably demand that she be told everything (which, at least, would make for a short conversation). Her cousin would gush about how romantic it was, and would keep going on and on until Maddie ‘accidentally’ hung up. The few friends she kept in touch with didn’t have marks either, so they would be about as helpful as her family members.

She glanced at the pile of turtlenecks and scarves that had piled on her chair, practically forgotten since she got to college. Maybe she would start wearing them again just to avoid the questions she was bound to get.

The weather seemed to be on her side over the next few days, as it was consistently cool enough for people to wear sweaters and scarves and not look out of place. Sure, plenty of people were still wearing shorts and tank tops, but those were the same people who would be wearing the same thing when there was a foot of snow on the ground.

Maddie had made herself comfortable on one of the recliners in the common room that was right outside of the library. On the table beside her, she had put down her coffee (that was slowly getting cold). She had long since kicked off her shoes, and her laptop was balancing on her lap. It had been empty enough for her to even snag her favorite recliner that was in the corner of the room--right next to an outlet. Perfect for the research she was attempting to do.

She sighed as, once again, another article about soul marks repeated the same things she had always heard.

Only some people were born with soul marks. It seemed to be completely random because there were plenty of cases when both parents had one, but the kids did not, or the kids did, but the parents didn’t. Likewise, it wasn’t uncommon for only one person out of the entire family to have one.

The marks supposedly symbolized something. Or rather, they all said something, but some were in patterns while others were just words. No one had determined why certain words were what appeared on people’s skin yet.

The marks also didn’t always represent a romantic soul mate. Many people had platonic soul mates. A small percentage also had multiple soul marks.

The marks would only fade when your ‘other half’ (as most articles put it) said something specifically about you for the first time, and most reported a warm feeling when it did fade.

A few mentioned some smaller details, but none seemed to help Maddie in her current situation. She had known all of that since grade school when her parents decided it would be the perfect time to talk about the large mark on her neck.

The door to the common room swung open with a little too much force as a girl with too many books in her arms made her way inside. Her long silver hair seemed to be floating behind her as she walked to the first couch that she decided would work for whatever project or test she was going to be working on.

Maddie noticed as the girl fussed around with her books, undoubtedly attempting to make some form of order to them, that, on one of her pale arms, was a very intricate and soft design. From what she could tell from where she sat, it went up the entirety of her arm, in almost a weaving vine pattern. It was the kind of pattern that the more you looked, the more details you would find.

“Wow, stunning.” She wasn’t positive if she was talking about the design or the girl.

But within seconds, the design had faded, which caused the pale girl to look in confusion, which turned into shock, at her arm and then around the room until her scarlet eyes met Maddie’s lavender eyes.

“You!” It wasn’t quite a yell, but it still made Maddie jump as the girl made her way over. “It has to be you!”

It took a moment, but Maddie realized what the girl meant. There were only five people in total in the common room, and since the other three were absorbed in their work (with one of them possibly being asleep), that meant there was only one person who could have been the reason as to why the mark disappeared.

“You were playing hockey the other day, weren’t you?”

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and nodded. “My name’s Madeleine, most people call me Maddie.”

Years later, as they were laying on their shared bed in their tiny apartment, Maddie would be tracing the faded pattern that had first caught her attention, still finding new words hidden in the small swirls.

Gillian would chuckle as Maddie would squint and try and say whatever she thought the word was. (It never helped that some of the words were in English, while others were in French).

The blonde would pout before muttering something in a mix of the two languages and going back to what to what she was doing.

It would be much later, after much prodding, before Gillian would blushingly admit that the design on Maddie’s neck, if looked at from a specific angle, spelled out the one word she would normally only use for herself.

[starlightsmusings]

Title:  Life Would be Dull if we Simply Remained Roommates

Pairing: PruCan

Prompt: Classic AU - College/Roommates

Ao3 link

The first time Madeleine met Gillian was during her first class at college, a generic, first year class that had way too many people, that luckily (in her opinion) only met once a week. Maddie didn't dislike the pale girl, but they never really had a conversation. Sure, Gillian talked in class, and she at least seemed to know what she was talking about, but at the end of the day, Maddie just thought of her as another classmate.

Gillian became more of a constant in Maddie's life when the second semester rolled around, and they ended up sharing two classes together--a generic college writing class and a history class. Apparently, Maddie learned, they had the same Major and Minor, History and Art, meaning that they would be sharing a lot of classes in the future. Maddie quickly got used to Gillian emailing her with questions about homework (along with asking plenty of her own), which normally led to brainstorming sessions between the two of them.

A month later, Maddie found she actually liked having Gillian around, and by the time roommate selection for the next year happened, they had both decided that they would probably be the best choice for each other. Maddie didn't really know many people on campus, as besides classes, she didn't socialize much. Her current roommate, who she rarely saw, was transferring to a different school. Gillian, on the other hand, did happen to know a lot of people, but didn't know (or perhaps "liked" as Maddie mused) any of them well enough to room with. Her other friends, Maddie found out one day, had gone to different colleges.

"Franny went to some fancy culinary school in California and Toni went to the local community college. ‘Big family problems’ I guess."

Gillian never elaborated much more on that.

Long nights, and even longer days seemed to pass as they got closer to finals. The projects got bigger, and free time disappeared into a dream they once had. It seemed that finals would never end. But they did, and finally, Maddie and Gillian were done with their first year of college. Maddie was going home to her large family and planning on working at the local bookstore. Gillian, however, had plans to visit family in Germany.

Their summer seemed short-lived when both got emails reminding them when move-in date was, and that classes, unlike when they were freshmen, started the day after they moved in. (Maddie simply was happy to move back away from the hecticness that was her family).

-Is there like any way you wanna decorate the room- Gillian texted Maddie one day.

Maddie paused for a minute, and realized that she hadn’t put a single thought to how their room might look like since summer had started. All of her stuff from her first year was still in a pile in one of the closets, and she vaguely remembered Amy bugging her to go dorm shopping, but they had conflicting schedules so it never ended up happening.

-whatever works. I might just bring stuff from last year- she texted back.

-good. i was hoping you werent gonna wanna be matchy-matchy. u didnt take me as the type. c ya move-in day birdie!-

Maddie was actually surprised when she got to her new room, and didn't see a single trace of Gillian. It wasn't until 4pm, long after her own parents had left, did she even see Gillian. And Gillian being Gillian, definitely made an entrance. Maddie could hear her fumbling down the halls, probably cursing in German about how heavy her bags were (because she was too awesome to only carry one or two at a time) and how far she had to travel, in both driving and from her parking space.

After hearing her attempt at opening the door with much-too-full hands, she took pity and opened the door, only to have Gillian fall into a pile onto the floor.

Peeking up through silver hair, a cheeky grin appeared on Gillian’s face. “Missed me?”

Maddie couldn’t help but smile and offer her hand to her fallen roommate.

“Of course, you huge dork.”

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t English.”

“Unless my Calc book mysteriously changes languages when I’m not looking, it’s in English.”

Maddie glared at her roommate/study partner from across the table as they sat in the common room. “Then explain what the heck question 36 is even asking.”

“It’s asking how fast the length of the rope is changing.”

“You didn’t even look.”

Gillian smirked and held up her Ancient Civilisations textbook. “Already finished, dear birdie.”

“That’s not fair,” Maddie whined. She mustered up what she could only hope was a face Gillian would take pity on. “Teach me?”

Gillian had seemed flustered for a second, and muttered something that Maddie could only partially understand. She was positive she heard the word ‘cute’ somewhere in the mix.

Gillian had wanted to strut right out of the classroom and flip her teacher from hell the bird as she did once she had taken a look at the test.

She cursed her ego that many had claimed was ‘too big.’ She wasn’t going to let a silly test get the best of her. She was Gillian freaking Beilschmidt. She could totally handle a little philosophy test.

She briefly glanced at the blonde sitting next to her, and wanted to groan in frustration when she realized that Maddie was already on the second page, writing what was practically paragraphs for each question.

Alright, maybe if she just started answering questions she knew the answers to, the rest would come back to her.

Or maybe she would just see if Maddie was willing to tutor her for future tests. (Maddie ended up laughing and muttering something about ‘payback’).

The next year they decided that they would try splitting a quad with two of their classmates--a quiet Japanese biology major and a very bubbly Finnish girl who was in a pre-vet program. It worked out well for the most part. They each had their own (much smaller) room, and there was a small common area that they would all gather in, to either watch a movie or try and help each other on homework.

There were definitely certain incidents that happened (Gillian had made a point to clean out their small fridge every week after a certain one), but everything remained fairly normal throughout the year.

Well, mostly.

It wasn’t a crush.

Well, according to her ‘manuals-for-everything’ sister it was a crush. But life and manuals were two separate things. There were plenty of things that worked well in manuals and rule books that never worked in real life. (She couldn’t think of any right now, but they were bound to exist).

Sure, she always thought that the blonde (that she totally did not have a crush on, thank you very much) was cute. But you would have to be blind to not think she was cute, with her long loose curls, and oversized sweaters, and glasses that seemed almost too big. And the way her eyes would light up anytime you mentioned anything history related, or told her that the cafeteria was having pancakes for dinner (which she would always say how it wasn’t as good as hers, and mention how one day she would have to make some to prove it). Or how she would bring her hands up to cover her face when she was flattered or embarrassed. Or how she was definitely Not Functional until she had some large, preferably iced, caffeinated drink with an inhuman amount of sugar.

Okay, so maybe not everyone would notice those, but she was still cute.

Very cute.

And adorable. Funny. Smart. And pretty darn awesome.

Gillian let that register in her mind.She thought that Birdie (cute, adorable, witty Birdie) was awesome.

She couldn’t remember the last time she called anyone but herself ‘awesome.’

Well, shit. Maybe it is a crush.

How long was it until she could go back? 3 days, 16 hours, and 27 minutes.

Two of her siblings and her father were yelling at the TV about what she could only assume was a game. Her mother and her youngest brother were in the kitchen, supposedly making some form of dessert for the dinner tomorrow. She could barely hear music from one of her sister’s rooms. And Amy was trying to keep her attention by talking her ear off about her own adventures at her college.

“So anyways, me and this girl, we decide, hey, why not try to see how much stuff we could get away with in class. There’s one teacher, and like, a million of us.”

3 days, 16 hours, and…..25 minutes.

“Maddie? Ya there?”

She blinked a few times, and realized that her sister had been waving her hands in her face.

“Oh. Sorry.” Her hands instinctively went to move one of her curls out of her face. “I must still be tired from the flight.”

“Or you’re just missing your girlfriend,” Amy muttered.

“Amy!” Maddie could feel the blush already form on her cheeks. I knew I shouldn’t have told her! She looked around briefly, and thanked her lucky stars that most of her family was still absorbed in the game. “I told you, we aren’t dating!”

“You just wish you were.”

Maddie had no response to that. She had come to terms long ago that her feelings for Gillian were less than platonic, and had only accidentally let it slip to her sister a couple of days prior when she had been too tired to filter her thoughts from exiting her mouth. It hadn’t taken long after that for her sister to make her spill her feelings that she had been bottling up for at least the past six months.

“Look,” her sister started in between bites. “The worst that happens is that she doesn’t talk to you anymore, and while it would suck at first, it would just mean she obviously isn’t good enough for you. But from the sounds of it, I don’t think you’ll have that problem.”

Maddie could only hope her sister was right.

The movie on the TV has been practically muted once the quiet hours had started. They had been trying to take advantage of the fact that they were some of the lucky few who didn’t have a final on Saturday, and had put on some movie to pass the time. Unfortunately, their quadmates had quickly reminded them that they still did, thus the door to Maddie’s room had been closed and the movie might as well have been off.

Maddie had cursed her luck. At first, they were just going to watch something in the common area, but they had been quickly reminded about the quiet hours for finals, and Gillian had suggested Maddie’s room, knowing that hers had more pillows and blankets, plus she actually had a small TV in her room. They had done that plenty of times before, but that had been long before Maddie’s recent conversation with her sister, and always with the door open and something in the background to distract Maddie from the fact that Gillian was leaning completely up against her.

“Are you even still watching?” Gillian mumbled.

“Uh, well…” To be honest, she had no idea how the characters had even gotten on the submarine, and she was pretty certain at least half the cast was different.

“Good.” Gillian reached one of her hands from under the covers that the two of them had wrapped around themselves and used the remote to turn the movie off.

If Maddie thought it was quiet before, it was dead silent now.

“So…” she started, noticing that GIllian hadn’t bothered to move from where she was sitting. “Are you planning on staying here?”

“I’m comfortable.” Maddie could have sworn she felt Gillian’s muscles tense. “Do you not want me to?”

“No!” That caused both of them to jump slightly. “I mean, I just figured, you might want want to sleep in your own bed.” It wasn’t like they hadn’t passed out on either one of their beds before, but they had always been on their own side, or whatever movie or show they had picked had simply lulled them to sleep.

There was another much too long pause.

“I was actually hoping I could talk to you about something.” Gillian’s voice was quiet, and her long silver hair was blocking Maddie’s view so she couldn’t see what expression was on Gillian’s face. “I think I like someone.”

Maddie never thought it was possible to feel her heart jump and her stomach sink at the same time.

“R-really?”

“Yeah.” Gillian shifted slightly so she was leaning against the wall behind her instead of against Maddie. She twisted her hands together as she was trying to put together her thoughts. “I just don’t know if I should tell them. But if I don’t tell them now, then I have to hope nothing happens over winter break.”

Quickly running through their list of friends, Maddie couldn’t think of anyone who it might be. While Gillian knew a lot of people, there was only a small handful that she would willingly spend time with, especially at college. Well, except herself, a small, hopeful thought plagued the back of her mind.

“What’re they like?”  Maddie could feel her palms getting sweaty. She knew it was a huge gamble, but she knew she had to face her own feelings at some point.

“They….They’re really nice. And cute. Very quiet when you first meet them, but surprisingly sarcastic.”  She was tiptoeing. Trying to avoid anything too specific, but trying to be specific enough to hopefully get her point across. “Really smart when it comes to languages and words. Horrible with math though.”

“So she’s someone you had class with?” Maddie noticed that Gillian was trying her hardest to not look at her.

“A lot of them.”

Gillian froze, knowing full well that that would probably be more than enough to give herself away. Maddie had been in most of her classes due to their shared major, and Gillian had never been quiet about who she didn’t like from her classes. Really, it would only be a matter of time….

“What would you do if she said she liked you back?”

Gillian would register the whiplash later, but for now her attention was focused on the blushing blonde sitting next to her. She knew she should say something, anything, but for once her mouth refused to make a sound.

Apparently Maddie’s body had decided that enough was enough for both of them, and moved to close the distance between them. She didn’t even realize what was happening until she felt her lips briefly touch Gillian’s.

“Wow.”

Neither were sure who said it, or even if it was just one, but it caused both of them to start quietly laughing. At some point, the giggling had mostly stopped, and the two found themselves laying down, an arm wrapped around the other, and fingers intertwined

“We should sleep.”

Maddie didn’t reply, as she was practically asleep on Gillian’s shoulder.

They could sort out the details in the morning, when they were more awake and less giddy. But for now, Gillian thought as she placed a quick kiss on Maddie’s forehead before falling asleep herself, this would be enough.

[prucanweek]

PRUCAN WEEK

Prompts:

Day 1: Time/Transitions

Day 2: Classic AUs - Fake dating, Enemies to Friends, College, Coffee Shop, etc

Day 3: Fate/Soul Mates - Red Strings of Fate, Tattoos, Black and White to Color, etc.

Day 4: (Childhood?) Friends to Lovers

Day 5: The Best and the Worst

Day 6: Differences

Day 7: Free Day!

One year later, and another Prucan Week is being set up! Please participate any day you can, adding whatever you’d like whether it be fanfiction, art, graphics, etc. All of the prompts are up for interpretation so create what ever you think suits the theme!

The dates of Prucan week will be September 25th - October 1st!

Track the #prucanweek and add this hashtag on all posts that you make! (Make sure it’s within the first 5 tags)

Any questions ask here!

[starlightsmusings]

Fandom: One Piece

Prompt: Dressarosa, salute your champion!

Character: Rebecca

Word Count: 1101

Stepping out into the area was always one of the most nerve-wracking things she had to do, no matter how many times she had done it. Rebecca could feel every eye in the area turn to her, and had learned long ago that it was best to ignore all the whispers (the first few times she had listened, and quickly lost the round as a result). She knew what they were all thinking anyways: would this be the time that she finally died? She never blamed them for it, if anything, she had the same thoughts herself. Rebecca knew that, while she stronger than the typical person, all of those in the Arena today weren’t the typical gladiators who she normally fought against. Most of the fighters had been royals, trained guards, and pirates, and almost all of them were trained, either by schooling or because they had been forced into ‘life or death’ situations before. The only advantage she had was that only a small percentage of contestants had ever fought in an arena before, which had proven useful in the previous fight. (She distinctly remembered one of her opponents not realizing that she had backed him right to the edge of the ring, which meant that he had fallen backwards out of the ring when he tried to take a step back.)

Rebecca looked around at her final opponents. She had seen all the previous fights and knew that all of the people she was fighting against weren’t going to be easily taken down.

Well…

She looked at the one that she thought she knew. Lucy. Something seemed…..off about them. Lucy had been full of smiles when the two had talked, but now they barely even acknowledged her. Their stance was different too, along with a newly painted ‘scar’ on their chest. To the crowd, they would probably appear the same. To her, it was like they were a completely different person.

Rebecca forgot whatever she had been thinking about when a loud gunshot sounded. She instinctively got ready to fight, defend, or seek, preferably one of the last two. When it came to brute strength, she knew she wouldn’t stand much of a chance compared to her much larger opponents. She could, however, keep dodging until her opponent was winded and deal a quick blow to knock them out, or she could search for the fish that had the prize while the others were busy in the fight and win that way. Some would call it the easy way out, but she simply saw it as using what she could as her advantage.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something silver come towards her, and spun just in time to have her own sword defend against the one that easily would have gone through her if she had not seen it. She smiled when she saw the guy’s reaction (obviously, he had thought she was an easy target), and felt it widen as she gracefully turned and dodged the crash that was his body due to the lack of pressure that she had created below him.

It wasn’t too much longer into the fight before she saw that both Diamante and ‘Lucy’ were eagerly looking for the chest with the prize, getting into fights in the process. Bartolomeo was keeping her former opponent busy.

Now or never.

Temporarily sheathing her sword, she ran to the edge of the ring and starting running the perimeter, keeping her eyes peeled for anything that could be the chest.

There it is!

Rebecca saw that she wasn’t the only one who saw the golden chest--both ‘Lucy’ and Diamante had already seen it. (She had half a thought to drop her sword and shield so she could run faster, but dismissed it immediately).  Instead, she ran exactly opposite from where it was. It was a gamble, but if she was right, then she could grab the chest before either of them.

Both of the men behind her scrambled to stay on the large fish, mainly jumping to the closest one whenever the fish started to dive underwater. Despite that, both were slowly catching up to where she was waiting.

Any second now!

‘Lucy’ had almost reached the spot where she was when she finally saw the golden glimmer beneath the water. She took off in a sprint, trying to get slightly ahead of the fish, before jumping. She knew she had timed it just right when she felt the solid body of the fish below her.

Rebecca only had maybe 15 seconds before the fish would go back underwater and she would have to attempt the same jump again, just on the opposite side, thus she ran as best as she could up the scaly body, using the chains when possible, until she reached the chest. At any other time, she probably would have marveled at how beautifully decorated the chest was, but now, she only reached for her sword, and brought it down as hard as she could on what looked like the weakest part of the chest, completely breaking open the top part.

The fish below her had a sudden shift in its direction, which put both her and the newly freed fruit into the air.

“Sorry, Princess. Hope you don’t mind me grabbing this!”

Rebecca hadn’t realized that ‘Lucy’ had gotten this close, but she wasn’t going to give up so easily. Using her feet to find any type of leverage, she came in contact with the fins from the fish that had just flung her, which she used to push herself forward. She stretched as much as she could, her fingers reaching slightly past ‘Lucy’s’.

Got it!

There was a smirk on her face as she jumped away from her opponent. She had heard from the first Lucy earlier that the fruit was important to them, and this ‘Lucy’ seemed to feel the same. She could see the mix of emotions on their face (shock, anger, annoyed….and a bit of pleading?), but she couldn’t bring herself to care about what the fake Lucy was feeling.

(The fruit tasted horrible, it burned the whole way down. Her whole body felt like it could burst into flames.)

No, she couldn’t bother to care what her opponent thought. (She moved her arm, testing the new flow of fire that was her body). The crowd had gone silent, and the announcer could barely say the words she had always dreamed of hearing. None of that mattered to her now.

Right now, she had a kingdom to take back.

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And then Rebecca fights Diamante, kicks butt, and then her, Viola and Law actually help take Doflamingo down. 

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Thanks for reading!

[starlightsmusings]

Fandom: One Piece

Prompt:  She had gone with them, in the end. 

Word Count: 1049

Character: Nefertari Vivi

When she had first started her journey, she thought it would come to an end when Crocodile was either in jail or dead. Her country would rejoice when they had realized what had actually happened, and her father would be respected by the people. She would take her position once again as the Princess, eventually becoming the Queen once her father thought she was ready. The whole ordeal with Crocodile would simply become a chapter in the history books. She had never bothered to take into account that the Grand Line never let things go to plan. The unusual pirate crew she had met along the way had welcomed her onto their ship (some, she remembered with a strange fondness, seemed more reluctant than others) once they found out her true motives for joining Baroque Works. This definitely was not a part of her plan. (When she first met them, she had only planned on using them to get to her home once more, and maybe use their strength to help take down Crocodile, as she acknowledged that she would need all the help she could get. She would pay them a reward at the end, then they would part ways, probably never to see each other again. They were pirates after all.) By that point, she realized upon reflection, it was already too late for her to turn her back on them. The captain had greeted her with welcoming smile and a loud laugh, while the navigator had instantly gravitated towards her. The cook spoiled her with various treats, and the sharpshooter told her all of the ‘adventures’ that they already had. Even the swordsman had even offered to help her train if she so decided. (The small doctor that ended up joining after her simply accepted her as what she was--one of the crew.) After many small adventures, they finally landed on the shores of her home country, and at the same time, she found that she was becoming more worried, but not about the fight nor about the rebuilding that she knew was going to occur. Rather, she had found another thing that worried her. She began to realize that their journey together was getting closer to an end with every step they took. And the more they traveled together, the more confused she became. She knew she had a duty to remain home, back to the policies and the meetings, the training sessions with the counselors, and the meetings with politicians. She could help her people the most by staying and becoming the best she could be. And yet… Traveling across the seas, meeting new people, going with (dare she say) her friends? She had never considered a life outside Alabasta. A life at sea, traveling with not-your-typical pirates, going from island to island, city to city, meeting all kinds of people, sounded…. She couldn’t even find the words to describe it. If she went with them, there was no doubt endless adventures were ahead of her, but she would be abandoning the country she had been trying to save. If she didn’t, she would live the life she always planned. So, did she actually have a choice? (She tried to push away the thoughts in her head the resembled that of the sea, rather than the desert.) When the final fight with Crocodile finally came to a finish, the rain fell on her country for the first time in years. She felt…...happy. There was no doubt of that. People had danced in the street to the musicians that joined them. Vendors appeared out of seemingly nowhere and practically gave away what they had due to their excitement. There was so much laughing and smiling. She felt welcomed as she walked down the street, rather than ignored, despised. (Her father seemed so much younger after that day.) It had been nothing short of a miracle. And yet she couldn’t help but still feel the pull of the sea. Her father seemed to have known before she told him. He saw how she interacted with the Strawhats. He had realized that while her home was Alabasta, her home no longer was on land. He told her it was ultimately her choice, he would support her no matter what. They would find a way to make it work if she left (it would be a huge scandal, no doubt), but she was happy with them (some more than others, he said with a knowing smile, causing her to blush at his implication). As long as she came back, then he was happy as long as she was. That was the last little push she needed. She practically ran to her room (the last time for quite awhile), and gathered things that she might need. It was only a small pile, as most of her belongings were that of a ‘Princess’ rather than a ‘pirate,’ so she could easily fit into one of Carue’s side bags. She had half a thought to say goodbye to everyone else, but she couldn’t find anything to say. There was nothing left for her to do besides catching up with the Strawhats.

Vivi put her crossed arms on the railing and looked at the vast ocean around the ship. She heard the sharpshooter, the doctor, and, the most childish of them all, the captain, playing some game that they had created. There was a creaking sound from where the swordsman was training with seemingly-impossible weights (though, she had learned, with this crew, the word ‘impossible’ didn’t exist). There was idle chatter from where the navigator and, in a strange twist of events, one of the same people who had tried to take over her country, were currently sitting on the deck (the latter she would come to understand later in their journey, but for now the two had a silent agreement to a truce for the sake of the crew). The cook appeared out of the galley with his latest creation, and immediately started swooning over ‘all of the pretty ladies’ that were now on board the ship. No, it wasn’t the life she imagined for herself, but going with them had seemed like the right choice, and now she could only wait and see what the future held for her.

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Seriously, if you haven’t checked out the ficathon already (it’s quieted down at the moment), please check it out. There’s still a fair amount of prompts open, and I’m sure other people are still seeing if newer prompts are being posted, plus there’s the ones that have been filled which are all great reads.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

[trelldraws]

friends, romans & countrymen: it’s time for a ONE PIECE FICATHON!

the take me with you to the sea ficathon is being held this winter here at dreamwidth; reblog this post to spread the word and join in (you don’t need a dreamwidth account to participate)!

→what’s this? ficathons are for putting the readers and writers of a fandom in touch! here you can leave a request for fic you want to see, which may then be filled by anyone; similarly, you can write fic for any existing request. it’s low pressure, so you can leave prompts even if you don’t write a fill, and fills can be of any length (so don’t hesitate to fill a prompt even if all you’ve got in mind is a drabble!).

absolutely anyone can participate. anonymous commenting is on, so you don’t need a dreamwidth account to join in, though you’re more than welcome to make one or use an existing one (this is a good idea if you want to receive an e-mail notification if your prompt is filled). if you’re also on tumblr/ao3/ff.net, linking to your primary internet presence is encouraged!

→rules

any/all pairings, characters & genres are welcome!

no limit on prompts or fills!

warn for common triggers.

full posting rules found on the main post!

come take this opportunity to request, write, and interact with the rest of the fandom—this event needs you to be a success!

[starlightsmusings]

30 Days Multiple OTP Challenge

Alright, so I’ve noticed a common trend where any 30-day challenges focus on one pairing, which may not be the best fit for everyone, thus, I’m proposing a “Multiple OTP Challenge”

Here’s how it works:

Pick how many OTPs (or poly-ships) you want to choose from and create a list by numbering each of your pairings. You can do this with as few as 2, to as many as you want (even if you have more than 30!). 

Get a copy of the challenge ready to write down your results.

Find a number generator (there are plenty online) and have it be set to however many pairings you have (Example: if you have 6 pairings, then have it generate numbers from 1-6). Then, use the generator 30 times and record what number/pairing you get for each day. (First number/pairing with first day, and so on). You can either do this before you start any of the days, or on the actual day itself.

Now you have your 30 Day Multiple OTP Challenge ready! Follow it just like how you would normally follow a 30-day challenge, and that’s all!

Also! If you want each pairing to have the same amount of prompts, you can also make an additional rule where you pick any number of pairings that can divide evenly into 30 (2, 3, 5, 6, 10, 15), and only list the pairings for the first (30/(# of pairings)) times they are picked. 

To make that a bit more clear: If you pick 5 pairings, then each pairing can only be picked for 6 topics in total. If you pick 10 pairings, then each pairing can only be used for 3 different prompts. And so on and so forth.

Now onto the prompts!

First Date

Dancing

College or High School 

Vacation

A night in or a lazy morning

Cooking together/Domestic situations

Any holiday together 

Meeting the family

Children/Pets

First meeting(s)

Soulmate(s) AU

A misunderstanding

Formal wear/event

Playing with each-others hair

Wearing the other’s clothing

Beach/Pool day

Pictures/Photo Albums

Festival/Carnival

Getting caught in the rain

“Everyone thinks they’re dating but they aren’t” or “Everyone thinks they hate each other but they don’t”

Childhood/Growing up

Any other Classic AU (ex: coffee shop, bookstore, crossover)

Put your ipod on shuffle or turn any radio station on. That song is the prompt.

The object closest to your left has to be involved in some way

Getting lost together

Taking care of each other

Long distance relationship 

Things that remind them of their partner(s)

Celebrating an anniversary or a birthday

A promise, proposal, or marriage

And finally, good luck to all who do this!