A muti-fandom blog. Mostly of my OTPs, other ships, favorite anime characters. Just reblogging and posting what I like.

Hardcore RusPrus shipper. You will know which characters I am obsessed with. I promise. Oh, and submissive Ivan is great.

Main blog is touchingdreams.tumblr.com
Fighting Against the Wind





I love the way Sousuke’s lips are so close to Rin’s hair. I mean in the second pic, they’re literally pressed against his head.

New headcanon: Sousuke likes pressing kisses against Rin’s head.

headcanon that rin probably uses some sort of fruity shampoo adn his hair smells yummy so sousuke is always leaning over him and kissing the top of his head and appreciating that smell.

Also it’s kinda the perfect height for kissing yes?

Let’s play a game.

Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.

you, also, what, when, why, how, look, because, never

(Source: thejadedkiwano)

Hi! sorry to bother you but i am totally head over heels with your merman!sousuke au and I was wondering, do you think that if he were given the chance to have human legs, Sou would ever do it? i wonder how he'd react to mundane things and tripping over his own legs and he'd just end up going back to the sea and being like 'NOPE, NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN' I'd love to hear your thoughts <3


(It’s no bother at all!  I’m enjoying doing silly fan arts after such a long dry-spell!)

As for Mer-Sousuke, I don’t think he even really grasps the concept of legs, yet?  He probably just thinks they’re weirdly defective fins, or something.

SouRin "Tell me, why do I still hope you'll notice me when you always look right over my shoulder?"


Rin was doing that thing again.  That thing Sousuke hated more than anything else.  That thing where they’re talking or laughing or just sitting quietly and Rin’s eyes look past Sousuke’s shoulder and get this kind of intense look to them.  Like he’s staring the future into submission or something.  Sousuke’s not entirely sure when it started, sometime back when they were younger he knows that much, sometime before Rin changed schools for his new team, his new teammates.  But sometime close to that too.  Sousuke hadn’t been able to understand back then, even with as well as he and Rin understood each other, just what exactly Rin was looking at and why it made a bubble of fear rise in his throat.

Now.  Well now he knows.  It’s Rin looking at his future; a future so bright and full of promise it hurts Sousuke to even glance at it, at him.  It hurts but he still watches Rin.  Watches the way his eyes start to dim and focus in on him when he comes out of it.  Watches the way his smile slips into place and he tilts his head a little to talk to Sousuke.  Watches the way he dims himself to come back to him.

Sousuke might not be able to charge with him into that sunny future but that didn’t mean Rin had to dull himself to stay here with Sousuke.  But still every time Rin’s eyes would slip past his shoulder - and it was always his right one and that just made it harder - Sousuke would have a brief moment of hope that this time he would look at Sousuke with that intensity, that fire, that passion.  That maybe this time he would see Sousuke in the same light that Sousuke always saw him.

Maybe this time.  Maybe this time.  Maybe this time.


Tiny, silly scenarios off the instagram au.

"Sousuke, stop."

"Stop what?"

A very angry kick to the bottom of his bed is almost enough to shake it, but not quite there, he still applauds Rin’s flexibility for even bending his legs that far up.

"Liking my selfies, man," a second follow-up kick and Sousuke finally decided to peer down, his best friend was gripping his phone tightly and scrolling through his notifications on instagram, indeed, the last 20 of them came from himself.

"Well, if you don’t want people to like your pictures then you shouldn’t upload them to instagram, Rin," his face dead-serious as the upper half of his body was hanging upside down from the top bunk.

"And how did you even manage to say ‘selfies’ with a straight face," his brows furrowed and he watched the red-head hide his face between his hands and dropping the phone next to him.

"Just stop, okay."


"Because, you’re a guy and I’m a guy and it’s like-"

"No homo, Rin."

Rin bursted in laughter, a term he’d heard once or twice in his time abroad. “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN-“

"Yes Homo? I don’t know Rin, what do you want from me here, you’re making it very difficult," Sousuke sighed and heaved himself up to lie back down on his bunk.

"Just don’t like my selfies, man, it doesn’t look good,” the samezuka captain gave up and went back to his home feed to scroll.


What did Sousuke say?

He opened his mouth to complain, and just as fast his phone vibrated with a notification.

Yamazaki1111 liked your picture.


SouRin #18


18. waking up with amnesia au

"It’s to be expected."

"You’re lucky to have even survived it."

"Those who make it back rarely gain all their memories again."

"It will take time."

The doctors all say the same things.  It’s a miracle he’s even alive and, more or less, fully functional.  He can’t seem to remember a damn thing about who he is or what he’s done in the past.  But he remembers the basics of living.  How to cook food, dress himself, take care of himself.  He’s a lot better off than most of the people who ever come back from that side.  When he’s finally cleared to return to “normal life” he’s shipped out of the hospital and left alone in a large loft apartment that he feels like he should know, if for no other reason than they said it was his home.  Not his new home or temporary home but his home.  Like he was supposed to be here.

But it felt…. empty.  He has no idea how it was possible to feel like he was missing something when he couldn’t even remember what he was supposed to have here.  But he knew it was red.  Not red red like blood.  He’d seen enough blood to last him a couple lives.  Maybe red like wine?  That felt right.  Wine in just the right light, soft and silky against his fingers.  But that didn’t make sense at all.  Wine is liquid and wet, like blood, not soft and silky like sheets clenched in fists.

Why clenched fists and sheets?

He knows logically that running his mind in circles will just make it worse, make it harder to cope and recover.  But he can’t sit still, can’t stay stationary in the too empty room filled with knick-knacks that don’t feel like him and no pictures.  Why aren’t there any pictures?  The memory of taking pictures isn’t there, exactly, but the idea of taking pictures feels so right that he finds himself searching through the bookcases, the boxes, the closet for even a single photograph.

Nothing.  Nothing.  Not a damn thing anywhere.  Even if he can’t remember his past why isn’t there anything here to try and remind him?  There are knick-knacks and souvenirs scattered about, shirts with insignia that could be from something important, but nothing personal.  No pictures.  No diaries.  Nothing to actually connect him to his past.

He sits at his kitchen table and stares gloomily at the chair across from him.  It’s empty but he knows it shouldn’t be.  Wine red silken threads weave through ever fiber of his being but he doesn’t know why.

He may have came back from the other side but he’s starting to think that his memories aren’t the only thing that got left there.