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beechichi:

based off of @moami ‘s drabble about megane!Tooru

Leekmo… you’ve killed me hahaha

How can you be killed when I am the dead one here? 
Bee… I told you on skype already, but I have no words. I’ll still try. I want to pour so much love over you right now. First off, their expressions are exactly what I had in mind while writing. Their lips are so soft, and oh gosh, the blush is real and Tooru’s gentle smile and long lashes in the second panel – I have died. I can’t believe you put my words into such beautiful and stunning art. The colours are so wonderful, and I just – I want to hug you and yell and swirl you around and hug you some more. The glasses on Tooru, how gently Hajiem slides them up, and then the kiss!! I have ascended, goodbye, I’m gone. 

Thank you, Bee, those Iwaois are wonderful and you are a precious summer star. ♥

“Those are glasses.” 

Tooru lifts an eyebrow and rests one hand on his tilted hip. “So attentive, Hajime. Yes, they are.”

“Glasses,” Hajime echoes. “Which means you see better now.” He’s starting to sound a little bit like a parrot, Tooru thinks and can’t keep himself from snickering. But instead of scolding him for it, Hajime just stares at him as if he’d just stripped naked and tried to dance on the table (hey, that was just once, okay. College is a crazy place.) 

But suddenly, just when Tooru is about to wave a hand in front of his boyfriend’s face, Hajime jolts. “Okay. So. Yeah.” And strangely, he turns away from Tooru and lowers his head. “That’s fine.” 

“Sure as hell doesn’t look like it,” Tooru says and raises his other brow as well. What is up with Hajime? Maybe he thinks Tooru’s ugly now? Oh God. The sting inside his chest is ice-cold. “Don’t you like me with glasses…?” 

“No!” Hajime whirls around, cheeks burning, and it looks like he’s shielding his face from the sun because he holds his hand up really awkwardly. “I just. You always look good. I just. I mean, you see better now, right. Uhm.” 

This is getting weirder by the second. Tooru grabs his boyfriend’s hand and peels it off his face. “Come on, I can see something’s bothering you. Are they that ugly – put your hand down, what are you even – wait.” 

And somehow, it hits him. Tooru lets go of Hajime and his eyes widen. No. That can’t be – or can it? Hajime’s face has taken on the colour of a sunset, and he rubs his neck, staring to the floor. Tooru swallows, hard, and gently takes his hands. “Are you – why won’t you look at me?”

“Because maybe you won’t find me attractive anymore.” 

Tooru blinks. That is – “…the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” He sighs, and lightly presses his forehead against Hajime’s. “Look. Hey, look at me.” And when Hajime does it, Tooru smiles, soft and mischievous. “I know how you look when you come, and I know that face up close. I know you drool when you sleep. Glasses won’t change how much I love you.” 

“You honestly turn every love confession into an insult.” Hajime gently punches him into his ribcage but still grins, and then he snatches the glasses right off Tooru’s face to kiss him, lifting his head up high to reach him. 

evartandadam:

Fragmentary

Like all cyborg characters, Genos surely has problems accepting who he is. He traded his humanity for power, to avenge his loved ones. His motivations are noble, but that doesn’t make it easier for him. He feels incomplete, inadequate. That’s why he became more than human- to feel as though he can make up for what he blames himself for- his inability to save his family. 

I think he secretly hates himself for what he is, and he is searching for purpose. He is searching desperately for a way to be completed. That is why he is so attached to Saitama. But what he doesn’t see is that he is beautiful just as he is, and life still comes from within him. He may break apart, but his will is still there, and his human soul still resides inside of him. 

Source: evartandadam

All Tooru has to whisper is “let me take care of you”, and Hajime melts into a shudder underneath the weight of his body. 

It’s been too long since Tooru has kissed him like that, too long since his tongue has traced the soft rim of Hajime’s mouth, coaxing a whimper, a sigh, the jolt of strong hips against his own. “I’ll be so good to you, I promise. Jus’ let me – yeah, c’mon. All yours tonight.” Tooru’s promises are sweet, his words catching between the ivory cage of Hajime’s ribs when he kisses his chest and drags a tease of nails over the hitching shiver of Hajime’s stomach. 

It’s been too long, Tooru thinks and feels Hajime’s hands slide into his hair, a breathless gasp of “God, I need – “, strong fingers curling into his dark-sweated hair, pulling. It’s so good, he’s going insane, and Hajime will fall apart for Tooru’s touches and it will be his name, the syllables of his soul that crack from Hajime’s lips in heavy moans when – 

He can’t wait anymore. His fingers find the waistband of Hajime’s underwear and drag it down. “Tooru.” The noise Hajime makes, oh, that vulnerable sound, he wants to remember that forever. He wants to mark his chest with it and carry this man’s marks around on his lips so that everyone sees how fucking perfectly Hajime makes his blood rush.

“It healed nicely.” Tooru smiles, and brings his lips down on Hajime’s burning skin. “Didn’t think you could become more attractive, but this is – “ 

And then, Hajime throws his head back and whimpers something that sounds like “please, Tooru, please.”

Oh, he’s so weak for this man, Tooru thinks as his mouth closes around the silver glint at the head of Hajime’s thick cock, and his tongue flicks against the cool metal. His eyes fall shut when Hajime’s fingers tighten in his hair, and his lips tighten, a flutter of dark lashes, before his nails dig into Hajime’s shuddering thighs and Tooru lets him fall. 

Daisuga week 2015. Day 2. Travel. 

It takes an hour for Hinata to stop crying and look up at Daichi. “Tell me,” he says, voice cracked from tears. “Why does it hurt so much when he’s gone? I know it’s for his career. But… how did you do this? How were you and Suga away from each other for six months?” 

Daichi wants to pull him underneath his skin and whisper ‘Kageyama loves you, and he will return’ into his bones. Instead, he smiles, and speaks.

He tells Hinata the story that begins after his and Koushi’s graduation, a story of a night under starlight and the heaviest words he’s ever heard: “I’ll go to Europe, and I need to go alone.” 

Daichi’s story isn’t long, but it fills the silence with colours that seem endless. He tells Hinata how Koushi had kissed him a last time, how he had just smiled when Daichi asked: “Why?” And how the answer had only been: “For us. So I can know myself before I learn everything about you.” How Daichi had been angry, sad, jealous, until his father had told him to go visit an old friend in Canada and think about whether he’d take over the company or not. Daichi had thought about it for two days. Then, he’d booked the ticket. 

Letting go was the hardest thing he’d ever done. They didn’t phone, didn’t see each other’s faces, didn’t hear the soft whisper of “I love you”. 

But Daichi tells Hinata about the short messages Koushi had sent, only one per day. “Paris is beautiful, not only at night.” – “The ocean is colder here. The wind tastes different.” – “I miss you.” – “I’ll stay in Kopenhagen for my last week. I want to see you. Do you know the Little Mermaid there?”

Hinata doesn’t cry anymore. He stares at Daichi, eyes wide, and rubs the tears away. “And you went to see him. What – what happened?” 

“We met,” Daichi says, soft. “Sometimes, distance breaks people, and sometimes it weaves them together even more. Have faith in Kageyama.” 

He doesn’t tell Hinata anything else about the end. The last night of his journey, how he walked up to the mermaid’s metallic shimmer in the dawn’s light, how Koushi turned to smile at him through tears – that is something Daichi doesn’t say out loud. 

The flecks of gold in Koushi’s eyes and the kiss of salt and “let’s be forever” are curled around Daichi’s heart. When he falls asleep with Koushi’s weight melted against his chest, Daichi thinks back to the little mermaid, to Kopenhagen, and thanks the cold wind for carrying his choked “yes, yes” right into Koushi’s soul.

When Tooru is five years old, he learns that all atoms in the universe once pulsed through the hydrogen-blood of a star, and that every molecule in the world has been weaved together by a kiss from the black sky’s dust. 

When Tooru is twenty-five years old, and he counts the caleidoscope of light dancing through Hajime’s eyes as his lips speak “yes, I will” through a smile of salt, that is when Tooru can finally believe the old tale of how the world was born.

Sometimes, Hajime is scared of how perceptive Tooru is. 

Well, not scared. More like impressed with a hint of surprised and honestly fascinated, but he’s not saying that out loud. Tooru would never stop teasing him about it. Really, it’s incredible, that Tooru just has to take one look at Hajime’s hands as he serves dinner for them (it’s pasta with some sauce, tomato-garlic-ish and delicious). 

“You didn’t take care of them. Again.” Tooru takes his plate from Hajime and then curls his finger around the warm palm of Hajime’s hand. He frowns, tracing the rough skin, and Hajime shivers slightly. It feels good, but he still says: “Sorry.” – “I’ll help you out once more. But this is the last time. You have to do this by yourself, can’t have them bleed one day.” 

It won’t be the last time, and they both know it. Hajime smiles while they eat. 

His hands resting on Tooru’s leg has become a ritual. Hajime has never been one to take care of his hands; they’ve always been dry and cracked from volleyball, even now in university. He didn’t think Tooru would notice. But one evening, when Tooru’s lips had tasted honey-sweet and dark underneath his mouth, Tooru had laced their fingers up and whispered: “Let me take care of you. Just this once, let me – relax for me, please. Okay, Hajime?”

And Hajime had said ‘yes’. Had promised to take better care of himself. Oh, Tooru had made him fall and relax, go pliant and warm and offer up his body in so many ways. Loving Tooru is easy, and being loved? Just as breathing.

“You get so calm when I do this.” Tooru’s warm voice takes him back to reality. It’s after dinner and of course they’re on the couch, Hajime resting his hands on Tooru’s leg while strong, gentle fingers rub the warmed-up lotion into his strained palms. “Do you like it?” Tooru asks. His voice smiles with amusement. 

“Yes,” Hajime mumbles, and kisses him on the lips. “I do. And you, too.”