#notsuchasecret

You never stop growing, learning, loving, and finding out the world and yourself. Friends can be made even after you've known each other half your lives and sometimes you have to leave and come back to realize that everything will be okay. Just a future fic with Hinata and Tsukishima coming back to visit some old friends and see how their lives are all still fitting together despite the fact that time has a tendency to keep on moving and take them along for the ride.

this was @notsuchasecret's bday fic from me this year (like a month late but hey. it happened.)

Come play Trick or Treat, and I’ll leave you with sweetness and fluff, or darkness and twistiness.

Treat

Yuu knew it was coming. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. 

For as long as he could remember, Ryuu had always run cold. It could be the middle of summer, and there Ryuu would be, shivering away in a sweatshirt. It made absolutely no sense to Yuu. But then again, at the time, they were both sixteen and it hadn’t really affected his life all that much. 

But now. Now they were twenty-six and it very much affected his life. It was still early October, the last legs of summer still lingering in the air. By all accounts, it was still relatively warm outside. But this absolutely did not seem to matter to Ryuu. 

Yuu was resigned. Not necessarily prepared, but resigned. He would watch, in mild horror, as the love of his life took the light, breezy cotton sheets off the bed, and replace them with the dark, fuzzy, over-warm flannel ones. 

Ryuu would then snuggle up in their bed, cocooned and warm. And meanwhile, Yuu would overheat.

But he would never leave the bed. He could never even dream of leaving any bed which Ryuu was lying in. 

Was feeling very Teru-y today, thanks to that sweet nonnymouse and some other stuff, so here we go with this short and sweet thing.

Koushi looks out of the corner of his eye, watching the way that Terushima holds the tiny throw pillow to his chest, face only lit by the light coming from the tv. He’s not quite looking at the tv, though, Koushi can tell. His eyes are on the blinking numbers of the clock just underneath it, and every so often he cringes and raises the pillow a little higher.

“Are you scared?” Terushima jumps at his voice and looks over, frowning and shaking his head in a no. “Then why won’t you look at the screen?”

“I am.” Koushi raises an eyebrow, and Terushima’s frown turns into a pout. “M’not scared, Kou. Just…tired.”

“Yuuji, it’s barely 6 o’clock. And you slept til at least noon, I know you did.”

Terushima wrinkles his nose, and Koushi tries to resist the urge to kiss him. It doesn’t work, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to Terushima’s tiny pout instead, dragging a little smile out of him. “Why you like being mean to me, Kou?”

“Cause you’re cute.”

I’m coming to get her you can no longer be trusted.

MA JE STOP IT YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE THAT CUTE

you know i don't even remember what the heck this was about. i vaguely remember something about yams and a joke about yams and Yams and look this is like from two and a half years ago.

so let us just imagine i wrote something worthy of the love and hate and your everlasting friendship yeah? yah.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯

come trick-or-treat in my inbox requesting ficcies and I’ll either treat you to some fluff or humor or trick you with a horribly twisted sad AU  (I’ll use a random generator to pick trick or treat) send me “trick or treat” and a character(s) or ship in my inbox and I’ll write you a short little thing (I’ll be doing these all of October so send away!)

treat

“Holy shit.”  Koutarou winces as Tetsurou smacks his arm and then smacks it a few more times when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What?”

“Holy shit.”

“You said that.  ‘Holy shit’ what?”

Tetsurou points and Koutarou looks around, trying to figure out what has his best friend in such a state.  All he sees is people.

“Him,” Tetsurou hisses.  Koutarou looks again and shakes his head when Tetsurou looks at him searchingly.  Tetsurou huffs and grabs Koutarou’s face in his hands and twists.  “Correct me if I’m wrong.  But isn’t that Ushijima?  Like.  THE Ushijima?”

“What?”  Koutarou looks closer.  “I mean it looks like him, yeah.  But why would he be here?”  Koutarou tries to turn his head but Tetsurou still has his hands tight around Koutarou’s face.  “Why would a Prince of the Damned be here?  Among the mortal peons and tradesmen?”

Tetsurou shrugs and finally drops his hands.  Koutarou wriggles his jaw a little, rubbing it and pouting at Tetsurou; sometimes his friend forgets the power in his hands.

“Rumor is he’s looking for a companion of some kind.”

“Rumor?”  Koutarou rolls his eyes.  “Since when do you listen to rumors?”

“Since Tooru started telling them to me.”

Okay.  That’s fair.  Tooru’s rumors are less rumors and more the sheer veil of prophecy filtered through Tooru’s ridiculous mind and dropped from his lips like the leaves in autumn dropping from trees.

Koutarou glances at the sky and sighs.  “Come on.  We’re going to be late.”

—

“Are you Bokuto?  Bokuto Koutarou?”

“The one and only,” Koutarou proclaims.  “What can I do for you?” he asks as he turns around.

“That remains to be seen.”  Koutarou can only stare as Ushijima looks around the tiny shop he and Tetsurou help run.  He doesn’t know if he should be honored that Ushijima is here or terrified.  “I have been looking for something for quite some time and I was told that this shop was the best place to go.  I am pleased to say I believe they were right.”

Koutarou licks his lips and smiles when Ushijima looks at him.  “What were you looking for?”

Ushijima holds out his hand, palm up, and Koutarou reaches out without even thinking about it.  The moment their hands meet everything shifts.

He sucks in a sharp breath and watches Ushijima’s wings unfold and shimmer into existence behind him.  He’s heard the rumors, both the ones from Tooru’s parted lips and those not from him.  He knows what it means for a Prince’s wings to appear like this.  He knows what sort of tales are about to be written, what sort of epics and ballads will be penned about them.

He also knows he has a choice.  He can drop Ushijima’s hand and walk away.  He can step back and pick the other road destiny has laid out for him.

He squeezes Ushijima’s hand and takes a step forward.

“I was looking for you,” Ushijima says softly.