#*when a blind man cries plays in the background*

[milphosis]

.....

[songsofadelaide]

refulgence — a companion piece to radiant point.

A montage of your favourite childhood memories plays in your head. Somehow you've forgotten all about how tired you were, and only the sound of your platoon members' laughter could be heard in the background.

Suddenly, you're five, and Soshiro just placed a wooden sword in your hand. You declared yourself his rival, but do rivals really get this excited to see each other again? Aren't they supposed to loathe each other while pushing each other to the very ends of their limits? (Honestly, how could you even loathe that adorable face of his?)

You're eleven this time, beaten to the ground right next to Soshiro while his older brother playfully berated you both for being little weaklings. Soichiro blew a raspberry in your direction, only for his head to hit your shinai with a small thunk.

"One all!" You screamed in complete delight as the younger brother rolled on the ground laughing with tears in his eyes.

Fifteen— you blinked your eyes, light and haze all over— And it's Soshiro handing you a copy of the curriculum for the Neutralization College he planned on attending. You both just started high school and college isn't even until three years.

"D'you want me to talk to your old man?" He asked you with a look of concern, but you shook your head at him. "C'mon, name yer price just for that pretty smile of yours and I'll get it!"

When you were eighteen, you cried your whole flight to France because Soshiro didn't see you off. You scolded yourself for being selfish— Come on, he can't put off everything for you, you thought to yourself. When you messaged him first thing after arriving, you didn't expect him to reply to you immediately. [ 😂😂😂 Glad you made it there in one piece! ] [ Miss you already, princess. ] [ Be good there. ]

You punched a guy in the face when you were twenty. "Ne me touche pas, connard!" And you would have buried your fist in his hollowed cheek again if not for your clubmates pulling you aside. "You don't get to call me your rival when you're hardly at my level! I only have one rival and he's waiting for me back home in Japan!"

Though Soshiro was hardly a rival at that time of your life. On your desk at your lodging was a letter asking him to ask for your hand in marriage but you'll subsequently die of joy afterward if he does. He was everything to you— your very first friend, your rival, your first heartache, your very first love—

"Oh, my gosh. Our Platoon Leader is crying! N-No, wait— I-Is she smiling?"

"Are you blind? She's obviously smiling while crying."

"That's what I just said!"

Somehow the voices in your head were getting realistically louder and your narrowed vision only showed several of your young officers fussing over you now that you're evidently drunk beyond sense.

Man, what a shining example I am to the rookies...

Now, you felt someone pry away your beer glass from your hand. There was a certain tenderness and familiarity to their touch, but all you could respond with was a low grumble of protest. "I'm fine...!"

"Yer obviously not fine. Come on, let's not make your team worry—"

Where were you this time? Was this some kind of memory again? Or perhaps a glimpse of something that had yet to happen? This can't be real, either. Your team members extended an invitation to the Vice Captain, but he said he was going to be busy tonight.

So who was this person who looked exactly like your Vice Captain— your silly little first love— trying to ease the half-empty beer glass from your hold?

"Soshiro? Ah, who am I kidding? You said you were busy, so... I'm probably just dreaming this up," you said with surprising clarity that seemed to shock everyone at your table. "You weren't there to see me off when I went to France! I'm still so sad about it!..."

The hand on your back started rubbing gentle circles that seemed to make you cry even more. "I'm sorry about that. Fer what it's worth, I did try to see ya off back then. I was just a li'l late is all..."

Your team members couldn't believe that their Vice Captain was there in the flesh now, an index finger raised to his lips as he still tried to coax the beer glass out of your hands. "I finished my reports early, so here I am. I forgot ta mention that she gets all weepy when she's had one too many drinks."

Your table fell so silent that you could hear a pin drop to the floor, and all they could hear apart from the izakaya's muted music was your soft sobs of relief and grief— relief that your officers were doing their best to get to your standard, and grief for tragedies that have yet to come. Tragedies you wish would never come. "My adorable little officers are doing so, so well, are they not? They have to keep up their good work b-because I don't want any of them to... to die!..."

"'Course they're doing great. You're an excellent Platoon Leader yourself!"

"Soshirooo..."

With your head lowered to the table, you cried and sobbed and hiccupped until you were eventually out of your wits and fast asleep.

"Out like a light. Now, don't stop on my account! I'll be here 'til you guys wrap up," Soshiro stated with his usual cheer as he raised your empty beer glass for a refill.

"W-We're glad to have you here, Vice Captain, sir!"

Even though he said they could carry on with their drinking, the excitement of the evening died out as soon as they heard their Platoon Leader crying over them even though they were still alive and breathing and celebrating.

"We didn't expect our Platoon Leader to be so... sentimental," said one of your newer members as they took a rather small sip from their glass. They all had the same strange and expectant looks on their faces as they eyed the older man and his uncharacteristically gentle nature when it came to you.

"Naw, she's always been like that. Ever since we were kids," the Vice Captain said as he received a full glass of beer from one of the servers. "I suppose you're all wonderin' why we're so close in the first place. Now you know!"

"The Platoon Leader and Vice Captain are childhood friends?!"

A small sigh of relief left your lips as you felt a cool hand gently brush away the hair stuck your forehead. The touch was subtle but tender and left a faint scent that reminded you so much of your first love.

It came to light that one of your platoon members had fencing experience, so what better way to have a test of skill than to duke it out with your sabres? A duel was declared, and when you returned to your quarters to retrieve your carrying case, you found one of the pockets neatly zipped closed.

Hey, wait a sec.

That specific pocket had something in it, but now it was empty. Your old letters to Soshiro were missing.

???

And it puzzled you because no one else has ever been to your room. No one but—

...

A knock on his office door prompted Soshiro to look up from the documents on his desk. "Come in."

His usual cheerful expression turned up even more when you entered the room all flushed and breathless. Regardless of your evident exhaustion, you maintained decorum and gave him a sharp salute.

"Vice Captain, sir!"

"Anything I can help you with, Platoon Leader?"

"Sir, you have something... No, I believe you took something from my... room after the, uh..."

So you already knew. Soshiro wanted to read them a little bit longer because they explained so much to him, especially why you stopped writing to him. The unsent letters were surprisingly honest and voiced the very depths of your feelings for him. Feelings that you promised your Captain would not get in the way of your work.

He chuckled at how flustered you were. "Use your words, Platoon Leader. I can hardly understand a thing yer sayin'."

"Y-You took my letters! The ones I—"

"You mean the letters addressed to me? The ones you weren't able to send because of how candid they were?"

"Y-Yes! Those letters are—!"

Soshiro could only shrug in his seat. "All right, you got me. I couldn't help myself. How was I not supposed to read those when they had my name on them?"

"I... uh..."

"C'mere," he motioned for you to approach him. "It's just the two of us here, so don't worry."

You made your approach, but he gestured for you to come even closer to him. When you were finally standing right before him, he took your hands in his and gently tugged you into his arms. A bold move, too, considering someone can walk right into his office and once again find you both in a compromising position. He hardly paid mind to that possibility, though, by the way he comfortably nuzzled and buried his face into your chest.

"V—"

"It's just us," he murmured against your chest, but you were far too embarrassed and self-conscious at how rapidly your heart must be beating this time.

"Y'know how I'd devour every single thing that had words on it, yeah? But your letters always made me the happiest," he continued. "You can always write to me even though we're just here. Just like this. If there's anythin' ya can't say to my face or whatnot... You can always write to me."

Soshiro looked as pleased as a cat with a treat when you raised your hand to caress the hair just above his nape, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw just how contented he was holding you in his arms. "All right, Soshiro. I think I will."

Your platoon members knew better than to cross your path when you were paged to the Command Centre to receive a call from the Sixth Division Captain. The drills you were holding forcibly ground to a halt as you tempered both your visage and your disposition, because of all the people, he had to be the one to call.

You took a deep breath as you held the receiver in your ear, greeting him with the same kind of snappiness you'd have for any superior. "Hello, Captain, sir!"

[ "You do know that there's no need to be so formal with me. We're friends, aren't we?" ]

"I could hardly call you a friend, Soichiro-san," you scoffed at the phone, closely followed by a soft chuckle. You decided it was safe to drop his honorific for now. "Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

[ "I just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement. I'm only glad to know that you're officially Soshiro's headache now." ]

You rolled your eyes at the older man's remark, feeling extremely lucky that he couldn't see all the faces you were pulling. "Oh, please, you exaggerate! I've always been a good girl to you and your family. Just admit that you couldn't handle my growth and the fact that you would have a wife your equal in strength and skill."

Soichiro laughed from the other end of the phone. [ "No one wants a brat for a wife. That's why you and Soshiro make a good match. You're both equally incredibly bratty and stubborn. I still remember that time he challenged me for you. He put up a fight, that one. I knew he'd bother me to no end unless he won with his own strength." ]

Huh. You didn't know that.

[ "Soshiro said that if I didn't want ya, he'd gladly take you off my hands. Too bad you pulled that stunt with our old man, though! Tellin' him and everyone else that you didn't want to marry me." ]

"That's still true, you know. I could afford to be a fool for lesser things back then. Now is different."

There was a pause from the other end of the phone, followed by another chuckle from Soichiro. [ "You like him that much, huh?" ]

"I like Soshiro more than you can ever imagine. My family knew I didn't like you, Soichiro-san. But considering everything, I was smart not to ask for your brother back then," you replied with a smile. "I was a beggar princess, after all. My family owed yours, so who was I to make any demands?"

[ "Ya didn't know any better back then, so cut yourself some slack. Though if you did ask... I'm sure you'd both be beggin'. He likes ya that much, too." ]

You knew that. You knew that Soshiro loved you to the point of humbling himself to your family, the very people who owed something to his own.

[ "Well, that's all I have to say to ya. I'm hangin' up. Knowin' Soshiro, he'd get all green with envy when he finds out I called you," ] He said. [ "Tell me if you want anythin' from Kobe and I'll send it to ya pronto. Consider it a gift from me." ]

"Thanks, Soichiro-san. For the record, you're an awful brother. But you're a pretty great brother-in-law," you replied to him. "I'll let you know if I ever do want something."

But you knew better than to take up his offer. Soshiro would sooner head to Kobe himself to get you something you want rather than have you receive something from his older brother.

"To Hoshina Soshiro-副隊長,

Please be more mindful when you refer to me as 'wifey' while we're here at base. You nearly gave my team members a heart attack when you let it slip while they were training! While it's true that I don't mind a simple ceremony, please don't give my members any crazy ideas because they will plan something, and they're already a handful as they are now."

For the record, I like how it sounds. It just gets everyone worked up, though! They're all so happy for me we can hardly train properly!

I'll see you at dinner, but please refer to me by my rank and name! You're incredibly lucky Captain Ashiro gives you a free pass! But remember that we're at work. You'll have all the time in the world to call me 'wifey' in the future, for as long as we're fighting for it.

I love you always, my hard worker. ♡ Let's continue our good work! Not that you even need me to tell you that lol."

✧ x

[auyuyu006]

Johnshi HCs

I'm sorry most of these aren't explicitly romantic I just have so many HCs about the two of them it's driving me crazy.

Johnny holds Kenshi by the waist, Kenshi holds Johnny by the shoulder or the bicep. After some time Kenshi starts to go for his hand instead.

Johnny is on his phone all of the time. Kenshi will either avoid the internet for a week or plays chess on the computer at the kitchen table for a day straight without talking to anyone (secretly uses Sento for this).

Kenshi has good spirits (literally) when it comes to his blindness, but can get very defensive when others pity him for it. Johnny is the only other person he will let touch his blindfold, take it off, or wash it.

Kenshi doesn't love the name "Johnny Cage" and thinks that "John Carlton" suits him. Johnny thinks that it sounds like an "old man's name"

Kenshi would visit Johnny on set sometimes but not say or do anything but sit in the background and watch him in silence until he was done.

Speaking of that- Kenshi had a good time filming in Outworld for Johnny's movie (made him feel like an action hero), but absolutely refused to watch the parts he was in.

Kenshi thought Johnny's movies were mostly cheesy before and after meeting him. However, he ended up rewatching all of them and got excited when there was news he got cast for a new one (before they started to officially date).

Johnny was a pretty good student growing up who made A's and B's as per expectations of his parents but hated school because he got picked on. He got into a decent university where he ended up falling in love with physics. He accidentally became famous around the time he was 20 (maybe he got street casted and went viral?) and had to balance acting with school to get his pHD. He is that school's most famous alumni.

Kenshi was mostly homeschooled by his parents and did not show much attention in academics in his youth due to his intense upbringing in the yakuza. This is something that he regrets but accepts that it wasn't really his choice to begin with. However he is quite knowledgable, knows broadly about history and literature, and can speak multiple languages (Japanese, Chinese, Korean, English, Spanish). He also learns braille relatively fast after losing eyesight.

Kenshi thinks it's so hot that Johnny has a pHD but also thinks its so strange he doesn't do anything with it. (It's a backup plan so he can write textbooks if his career tanks)

Johnny is great at drawing due to it being a hobby growing up stemming from him being a major comic book fan. Kenshi isn't very artistic however used to be able to do mediocre calligraphy (a skill he learned from his parents) before he became blind.

Kenshi breaking into Cage Mansion the second Cris left was admittedly pretty awkward for him (but he was too distracted by Sento to rly care).

Kenshi tries to not let it get to him, but he is saddened by the fact he cannot read properly anymore. Johnny tries to support him by buying him every audiobook in every language he understands. Kenshi will sometimes ask Johnny to read to him mostly because he loves the sound of his voice.

At first, Kenshi tried to get Sento to help him with daily tasks (cooking, cleaning, etc.), but after talking to Kuai Liang he tries not to rely on Sento on anything non-kombat related.

Kenshi has a slight lisp (I'm sorryyyy this isn't rly a hc but you can hear it in his intro dialogues he still sounds like a badass tho i think it's super cute thank god for Vic Chao)

Johnny makes their home a "smart home" a.k.a 30 Alexas in every room of their place, and a Samsung fridge he can live tweet from while making green juice.

Kenshi sometimes used to drive with Sento in the back seat and got arrested for it one time. Now he gets told off by Johnny for it every time he tries it again.

Kenshi will only drink milky coffee (lattes, cappuccinos, etc.) and prefers tea. Johnny hates coffee and tea and pounds red bull in the morning.

Kenshi used to care a lot about his personal style and mostly only wore suits and dress attire. After losing his eyesight, he didn't care as much anymore and just focused on wearing things that were comfortable (sweatpants, sweaters)

Johnny buys Kenshi soft fluffy things to wear all the time. Kenshi always says it's unnecessary but ends up wearing it anyway.

In MK1 Johnny is 32, and Kenshi is 39 (I like the idea of Kenshi being old it just makes sense to me). It both amuses and horrifies Kenshi that he's dating a white man 7 yrs his junior.

Johnny calls him "old man Takahashi" and Kenshi just goes along with it and says "get off my lawn you punk" or something LOL

I think Kenshi was more of the brawny "tough guy" of the yakuza than the suave, seductive type. He has more of an awkward and stony personality. And the fact that he was desperate to get out makes me think he wouldn't entertain the "flirty" role of the job. (a.k.a Kenshi is BAD at flirting unlike a certain someone)

Johnny sometimes helps Kenshis clunky azz samurai gear on before he engages in kombat. Johnny is also the reason Kenshi sometimes gives up and just wears a suit.

Kenshi shops like an old Asian dad. LOVES Costco, will eat all of the samples. Will buy everything on sale even if he doesn't need it. Will not take Johnny with him because his megastardom ruins the peace of being unrecognized. Has taken Raiden with him though. Will use Johnny's credit card. Johnny is dismayed that he hasn't taken a liking to Erewhon and Whole Foods

When Johnny isn't there with him at night Kenshi will play his movies and fall asleep to the sound of his voice

Kenshi will have sex with the blindfold on. He will fall asleep next to Johnny with it off.

Kenshi doesn't like sleeping with the blindfold on, but was worried it would scare or disgust Johnny in some way. It doesn't and it never did. In fact, Johnny appreciates the intimacy that it creates.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

Big Brother’s Observations

Since the day I held Sherlock in my arms for the first time, I loved him fiercely and I instantly wanted to keep him out of harm’s way, whatever the cost. I was only seven years at the time, but I tried my best to keep my promise.

At first, it was easy. Child’s play, so to speak. He followed me with his eyes, always smiling, filling my chest with warmth and joy. When he learnt to walk, he never let me out of his sight. Where I went, he was close behind.

I taught him everything I knew about nature; biology, geology, meteorology, when we were outdoors, mathematics, languages, history, geography and logic reasoning when the weather was bad, and we stayed in Father’s library or in my room. He was like a sponge, and it became quite clear that he was above average intelligence; just like me.

However, there was a big difference in our personalities. Where I avoided other people, Sherlock couldn’t get enough of studying and talking to others. For a while… 

The other difference between us was sentiment. He was full of it, I was empty, apart from my undying love for my brother. I told him he would get hurt if he wasn’t on the alert. He was naïve and always thought every person was good and meant well. For a while…

***

My heart broke several times during the years, and in the centre of it was Sherlock. His tears and sobbing were unbearable to witness.

“Why do they hate me, Myc?” he cried so many times, I lost count.

“You must stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, Sherlock,” I told him. “Everyone will take the opportunity to hurt you if they know you’ll react like this. There doesn’t need to be a reason other than they want to see you cry. People are evil like that. Sentiment is never an advantage, brother mine.” 

He wouldn’t believe me. Not at first. It was a hard lesson for him, and I hated every single person who dared to give my brother such a difficult time, but finally he managed to put up an armour of indifference. I knew how much effort it was for him to maintain it, because I caught him more than once crying himself to sleep after the more trying days.

When he started university, the contact between us was sparse at best, but I kept my eyes on him of course. Alas, I was unable to foresee and stop his drug addiction before it was too late. By then he hated the sight of me, which broke my heart in a totally different way. He turned his back on the one person who wished him well. It was a blind spot he dealt with for years, put there by me.

***

I couldn’t believe my luck when Sherlock met Gregory Lestrade of New Scotland Yard. The detective saw Sherlock’s potential and promised him work if he got clean, which he achieved in record time.

Despite the trust Lestrade put in Sherlock, my brother didn’t trust him fully. The police wanted results, which Sherlock was able to give, but it ended there. Lestrade was no friend in Sherlock’s eyes. He just used Sherlock for work, nothing more. My brother failed to see that the detective cared for him outside of crime scenes. He didn’t even bother learning Lestrade’s Christian name.

***

I saw a crack in my brother’s armour the day he realised that John had killed a man to save his life, mere hours after they’d met. When I mentioned it, Sherlock waved it off as John’s need for danger, excitement and his military background, but I observed a second of insecurity. It vanished soon enough.

My instincts when I met John Watson for the first time, told me he could be just what my brother needed, or quite the opposite. His loyalty baffled me, but spoke volumes, and it increased for every passing day. He protected Sherlock just like I had done decades ago. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think of that. Of course, I wanted my brother to be cared for and kept safe from the criminals he recklessly chased through London, but it should be me doing that. Letting go and placing my trust in an ex-army doctor with PTSD and a passion for danger, wasn’t exactly what I preferred, but it seemed I didn’t have much saying in the matter. John Watson was Sherlock’s confidant and friend now, and I should be glad, but my treacherous heart ached for the loss of my brother’s trust and love.

When it became clear to me how John felt about Sherlock, I prayed to the universe to let Sherlock’s blind spot disappear. It had finally happened; there was a way for Sherlock to gain happiness and love after all, and perhaps his hostility towards me would dissipate a little if he felt content and loved. My prayers weren’t heard, and John was too scared to jeopardise their precious friendship to pursue the matter. 

***

I never dreamt of that an Irish criminal mastermind should be the answer. When Moriarty kidnapped John Watson and Sherlock realised he might lose John when he emerged with that bomb vest strapped to his chest at the pool, the blind spot instantly vanished. When the danger was over, John had proved that he would sacrifice himself so that Sherlock could live.

“My life isn’t worth living without you, John,” I heard Sherlock say in the surveillance video.

I had ushered my men out of the room and watched the scene alone. It was a private moment I didn’t want anyone else to witness, and I turned off the recording once I was sure both men were safe and had finally confessed their love.

My mission was far from over, but my faith in John’s capability to keep my brother as safe as possible, was absolute.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @raina-at @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @7-percent @ninasnakie

[topazadine]

Eternal Night of the Northern Sky - Truly Astounding!

Eternal Night of the Northern Sky by @physalian - what can't I say about this?!

Here's my review from Amazon:

Truly, I can't gush enough about 'Eternal Night of the Northern Sky.' It is one of the best books I have read this year, and if I could forcibly download this onto every Kindle user's device, I would. I have always been a fan of stories with a strong sense of environment, and god does 'Eternal Night of the Northern Sky' deliver. You truly feel as if you are there in the Great White Waste with the characters, feeling the snowflakes on your face from the guard wall, or sinking into a warm geothermal pool. Every word is alive with such vivid descriptions that hours passed before I realized I needed to get to sleep. I binged half of the book in one sitting; I was just too captivated to put it down. The prose grips you by the throat. There's an immediacy due to the present tense, and the powerful descriptions make you feel as if you're watching a movie, yet it never veers into melodrama. Every word is placed for perfect impact, neither too strong nor too soft. Bellows crafts such an evocative world but doesn't infodump; information is revealed exactly when it needs to be and in the exact right proportion. I never felt lost, but I also didn't feel lectured to, as often happens in fantasy novels. The worldbuilding is a background hum, with a rich interplay between vampire covens and human clans that is hinted at just enough to intrigue but not bore. What I also loved is how complicated the plot is, yet it doesn't feel contrived. All the pieces fit together perfectly, and we never feel any plot strictures that force Elias into different circumstances. He's simply a young man who happens to be in all the wrong places at the wrong time, pushed by forces beyond his control. This is so refreshing in a literary sea of protagonists who one can tell have been forced into narrative blind alleys for no greater purpose than drama. I especially appreciated that Bellows makes it clear how naive and inexperienced Elias is. He is, as Dorian calls him, a coward, yet he plays such a significant role in these long-brewing battles between vampire covens. Elias demonstrates a perfect balance between seeking agency and going along with the narrative; he feels deeply, achingly human. Not everything Elias does is admirable, brave, or clever, but I love that about him. Like a real human, he has his flashes of brilliance and his moments of stupidity, which makes him all the more enjoyable. And oh the ending, the last two chapters … everything comes together in a beautiful, neat bow. I cried, I really did. Bellows has gained a lifelong fan in me, and I am so happy that I found this book in the vast mire of the internet. I cannot wait to see what marvelous worlds she takes us to in her next tour de force, and I'll be first in line to purchase it.

Go buy it omg you will NOT regret it!!

[starlightshadowsworld]

I'm back to ask you random things :D

What if Casey went blind or deaf while on portal or in a fight? How would the others react? How would Casey feel? How would is dad and little sister react? Would he continue to go to school, or to the lair?

What are your thoughts?

Thank you for the random ask!

Oh man yess.

So I've been losing my hearing for a while now.

(That's what I'm calling it no one fucking knows what's going on with that yet.)

So this just yess.

Also to preface this I'm not an expert on any on of this.

.

I'd say for Casey it'd be due to head trauma.

Casey gets into so many fights. He's been knocked around a lot, especially for the only person on the team to not have any kind of healing factor.

Hell he's already got a metal plate in his head.

Casey is a regular guy (as regular as Casey Jones can be), he's human.

He can't just take all these hits without suffering consequences.

So at first he starts hearing a ringing sound.

Doesn't think much of it. It's New York, it'd be weider if things were quiet.

It comes and it goes, he doesn't think much of it.

But as the fights continue and things start to get worse.

For a while Casey doesn't notice.

And neither do the turtles.

The ringing starts keeping him up at night.

Casey starts missing things in conversations, asking them to repeat things.

They think he's just not plaything attention.

Casey talks louder than usual which the others think is just Casey being Casey.

But it's really because he can't tell how loud he's being.

Casey finds himself looking at people's lips to figure out what they're saying but they just assume he's flirting.

Casey starts to notice but he feels self conscious, he's the great Casey Jones afterall he can't be seen as weak.

The truth comes out in argument.

Casey's not sure who started, anger is pumping thro his veins and he cannot and will not be stopped.

"Cos I can't hear you!"

And than there's silence.

And the shame kicks in.

Casey can't fight his way out of this.

So he runs.

It's April who finds him, a note and pen in hand and he knows Casey knows has to face the music.

She hugs him, holds him and reminds him that he's not alone.

He cries at that.

The others are all confused and apologetic.

And saddened that Casey never told them he was struggling.

Donnie researches alot, upgrading Casey's T-Phone to transcribe his calls (show it in text), vibrate rather than ring etc.

There's always a pen and paper available just incase.

Leo helps him train to use his other senses, and makes sure every episode of space heroes they watch has closed captions.

It's April who goes with Casey to the doctor when his dad won't show up.

Casey's dad believes Casey's doing it for attention, taking any response Casey makes to him that Casey can hear him fine.

Angel gives him a big hug and tells him she loves him.

She makes a little pouch for his hearing aids, and happily calls them "Casey's ears"

Casey's hearing aids are black with skull charms hanging off them.

They are upgraded by Donnie and help to block out background noise so be can hear the others.

They don't fix everything and Casey gets headaches from wearing them for too long.

When that happens they have "hearing breaks" , where the group just sit in quiet and just be.

It's relaxing for them all and helps Casey feel less fatigued from having to pay so much attention.

Casey has and will turn them off, take them out to avoid lectures.

Which he definitely gets after the whole keeping head trauma and injuries to himself.

Even without words Leo has mastered the I'm not mad just disappointed aura.

Raph is always their to lift him back up, he played drums once and Casey got ecstatic cos he could hear it and they have jamming out sessions.

He also stands by Casey's left side in fights because its his worser side, to defend him and keep an eye out for danger.

Mikey is the one who starts making little gestures to help Casey understand things.

And Donnie realises they can borrow elements from ASL.

Because the turtles only have 3 fingers they can't learn regular sign language.

So they make their own.

Little gestures and movements that translate to words and sentences.

It also comes in handy when they need to be stealthy.

April and Casey also both learn regular ASL from books they've found at the Libary and teaching each other.

Casey's a bit self conscious about signing in public, we'll aware of the stares but being with his friends lessens that feeling.

He prefers to sign and speak at the same time even if it took a while for him to figure it out.

The others also try to remember to face Casey when they speak so he can attempt to figure out what they are saying.

Casey is absolutely shit at lipreading and hates it.

He does manage to get an interpreter for school which does help and April is right there to help tutor him so he manages.

Casey's dad did try to destroy his hearing aids in a bout of drunken rage but Casey managed to hide them before he could.

He tries to sheild his head because of the head trauma he's suffered, and luckily he sheilds the hits but gets hurt.

He ends up going to the lair for the night, dropping Angel at a friend's house.

Donnie patches him up, Mikey holds him, Leo is pacing and April and Raph are contemplating murder to whoever did this.

Casey ends up in tears, he knows he's not faking it... He needs his hearing aids, he does he's not faking.

He says so in a broken whisper and everyone embraces him.

Casey's got a long journey ahead of him but he's not alone.

He never will be.

[suuho]

Now that you finished Hospital Playlist may I ask who is your favourite character and which aspects did you like about their personality as well as their ark through the show?

hey!! funnily enough, i did kind of immediately go back to rewatching it, because my brain is built that way, i guess. embarrassing to admit, but it is what it is, and i am putting it here in case i might add something later on, after the rewatch. a new comfort show has entered my life, and is sitting firmly in my top 3, right along with twenty five twenty one, which is incredibly high praise coming from me.

first of all, everyone around me was actually surprised that it took me so long to watch it. my favorite tv show growing up was grey's anatomy for the longest time, it's one of those shows i put on in the background of doing anything. like, when i write, i will have an episode of grey's anatomy playing. it soothes my brain. anyway, hospital playlist has been on my watchlist for like two, almost? three years? now, i think? around the time the second season premiered. i just never gave in, lol. huge mistake, turns out, because this show is like everything i love wrapped into one. it is like the most kaz-esque show ever, everything is so specifically catered to me, i cannot believe it even exists.

i thought my favorite characters would either be ikjun (i have seen jo jungsuk in hyung (with kyungsoo in a co-lead as a blind judoka) and he made me sob buckets, so i was already a fan and i know that man can sing like it's nobody's fucking business, my moritz and hedwig... i used to audition with moritz material, so naturally he is dear to me.) or seonghwa, because she is the only neurosurgeon in the main squad. fun fact, i wanted to be a neurosurgeon up until my ophthalmologist ruined all my hopes in 9th grade when he told me i could never be a surgeon. rip. i never cried so much in my life up until then, it really changed my life forever. sigh. that's what you get for having absolutely no depth perception!

so, imagine how surprised i was when i was naturally drawn to kim junwan. i love the fact that he was introduced as a cold-hearted and strict character but is revealed to be actually quite soft and very dedicated. that we see him as brutally professional and occasionally cutting, but rarely actually harmful. it is not often we find a character depicted like that, and i could relate to him in many ways as someone people seem to fear on first glance, and always having to convince them of the opposite. he is insanely smart, but not as smart as ikjun, and he is so fiercely loyal while intensely, yet quietly, emotional. so many aspects of his character were gradually revealed and it felt less like a change of his core and more like aspects of him we have earned to experience over the course of the show. i love a reflection of characters that is caused less by a seismic shift in their lives or daily events, and more like just us being allowed a window to sit in and navigate their narrative like real people. hospital playlist felt very much like that.

so many little things i've loved about him... the different hairstyles growing up, the fact that apparently he has lived with jeongwon for so long, and they have worked at the same hospitals? that he can barely stand to live on his own, something you would never quite expect from a forty year old man who is as revered and feared as kim junwan. how generous and kind and loving he is. how quirky and occasionally impulsive, especially around his friends. i thought the romance between him and iksun shoehorned and wooden at times, but they won me over, mostly by the end of season two. honestly, i put it more on chemistry than storytelling, to be honest. same goes with jungwon and gyucheol; for some reason i did not particular enjoy the romantic chemistry between either of these pairs (or maybe it was just the actors?) and saw them being better off as friends. that's just me nitpicking, though.

i also particularly loved seokhyeong's character development, and his romance felt well-earned and natural. such great growth here! and more justice for cripplingly introverted people, we deserve the spotlight as well! and the romance! and to be a little mean and spiteful and very smart, and kind-hearted and soft-spoken but strict as well, when needed! i loved him in his role at the hospital, and his backstory interested me the most out of all doctors, considering he worked in the states for quite some time, and all his family issues. sooooo dashing, too.

now, here comes perhaps my highest praise for the show. hospital playlist gave us the best friends-to-lovers trope in all of kdrama, possibly of all time. so insanely well done, oh my god. by the time ikjun and seonghwa kissed in the car, i thought i was gonna turn to dust. the chemistry! the realness! the ROMANCE! these two are so grossly meant for each other and their entire development from best friends to lovers was absolutely expertly written. i loved the season one finale, when ikjun visits seonghwa in her new apartment and confesses his feelings for her. so elegant. jo jungsuk has this talent for really deeply emotional acting that never feels like a gimmick and always just earnest. anyone else might have forced too much there, or played it too heavy-handed, but he met the perfect balance between earnestness, and yearning, and gracefully-resigned. it was beautiful. how seonghwa allowed herself to open up to those feelings over the course of the second season, and how naturally they have taken care of each other from the beginning... god. couple of all time, for real. the fact that ikjun is such a singer and seonghwa is the complete opposite, but he loves her so much that to him, she sounds impeccable. what a contrast to his sharp head turns in the first episode whenever she fucks up a note. hospital playlist you magical show, you.

honorable mentions to sunbin and seokmin, my favorite neurosurgery side couple. precious, precious sweethearts. and my beloved choi yungjoon as the dishiest side character of them all, initially why i even gave in to watch the show. he did not disappoint, and he will always enrich the visual tapestry of any ensemble cast (see also: vincenzo). i just love his work in anything, so he was such a welcome addition here and, as always, a sight for sore eyes. also, park hyungsoo as seokhyeong's family's lawyer, famously of the devil judge (lawyer go, anyone? i spy a type cast and i welcome it) and crash landing on you (one of the nasty brothers).

the music was outstanding. the singing, jesus christ. jo jungsuk never met a key he couldn't transpose into a tenor dream, or a song that he couldn't elevate by adding his perfectly measured vocals. watching everyone learn and play their instruments was such a joy, and i have soaked up all the behind the scenes content. the first time they played rain and you in season two, i started to bawl. man. i fucking love this show, and i would take five more seasons to see how this group of friends navigates their lives together. that it's my life performance changed my soul.

ranking: 10/10

so, where is season three?

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 24: The Song (Ransom's POV)

I can't get it out of my head. Leave it to Fiona to throw me off.

She sent me a picture of Mimi on Insta with none other than her ex-fiance. The guy cheated on her before the wedding. She was hurt, but she walked away from him though. He was stupid enough to think they could work it out. I held her while she cried, and she only cried about it once. I even called in a favor and had the guy's car towed by the city. He loved that Mustang. But it was years later, and they looked too damn close at the tea shop in the online photo.

She was married to me, carrying my kid, right? So why did this bother me?

It simply. Fucking. Did. I found myself going over shit I did, didn't do.

"These shots are okay," the photographer says. Her name is Raine Phillips and she had a pretty nice portfolio. She was a senior at NYU, and Calida called in a favor to get her on this project. 

I sigh. "They're missing something."

"Yeah, the electricity, the 'X' factor, I dunno," She shook her head. "I can try again-"

"Uh, can you give us a minute?" Calida asks. She gives the young woman's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  "It's definitely not you. Let me talk to him, okay?" She pulls me aside. "What's wrong?"

"Calida, it's--" I exhale, wanting a woman's advice. "I just saw a pic on Insta of my wife with her ex."

Calida frowns and gasps, "Where?"

"At our tea and coffee shop-It's Tea Time Somewhere?" I tell her. "I guess--"

"He stopped by to say hi?" Calida finishes.

I exhale. "I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

"You sound like a jealous husband," she chuckles. "Let me tell you something," she gives me a small shake. "Your wife has always been in love with you."

I laugh humorlessly. "What, cause we're married?" I swallow hard, and turn away. My mom and dad are married. And a big ew on that little mess.

"I don't know about you, but I know she loves you."

I turn to her. "You--"

"I remember when we were dating in college, and I met her?" Calida looks into my eyes. "Her heart was breaking, Ran. I didn't care back then, I was stupid, but I grew up, and I never forgot it. I never did that to any woman again. And I never dated a man who was too blind to see it without at least pointing it out."

"Calida--" I watched her pull out her phone, and quickly click and drag and everything. "What?"

"Listen to this."

The link popped up on my phone and I clicked:

And then I couldn't get it out of my head. The memories of our conversations, our hugging over the years, and the way we lingered played back in my mind. And, oh, God, our first kiss! Could it be that we always were? That song played in my head over and over as we continued the shoot, and I kept thinking of Mimi every time I looked at Calida. 

"Oh, now this is good!" Raine smiles ear to ear. "Good pep talk!"

"Naah, he just misses his wife," Calida shrugs, making me blush.

"Oh, that is so cute!"

"What the hell is going on?!"

We all turn to see Paul.

"Well, look who's here!" Calida says with forced brightness.

Paul's anger and outrage is plain as day on his face. "Calida?!"

"We knew you couldn't start early, so I got you an assistant."

"Assistant?" Paul repeats, outrage in his features. 

"Yes," Calida smirks. "We are done with shots here, but will you be ready for the next background?"

Paul looks at me, and I only raised my eyebrows to let him know I was not arguing this. I want to go home. "Yeah...yeah."

We skip lunch and power through, but I took time to buy a train ticket home just in case planes were grounded. The shots were actually pretty good. Raine was good, but Paul had experience, and once Paul had a few expressos he was over it, and helping Raine. She admired him and was willing to learn.

"That's it." Paul announces. Raine is happy and excited. 

"Thanks, Paul," I nod, shaking his hand. "You two should work together more often."

Paul rolls his eyes. "It's definitely a thought. I've never had an apprentice-assistant, yes, but this makes me think."

"Merry Christmas, man." 

"Merry Christmas."

I go to Calida and see that she is getting ready to leave. We both had our bags on set. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem, we got people to get home to," She smiles. "So...?"

"What?"

"You listened to the song," she grins. "Your whole behavior changed."

I chuckle. "Yeah."

"And...?" She watches me grin, and giggles. She gives me a kiss on the cheek, turns me around, and pushes me like I'm going on a runway. "Get outta here!"

"Thanks, Calida." I said gratefully. 

"Invitation to the baby shower?" She calls after me.

"You got it!" I call over my shoulder. "Bring that man, I want to meet him!"

"It's a double date!"

I'm going home.  No, really, fuckin' really: I'm going home!

@nuggsmum  @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt  @sweetdreamsofgelato  @@mary-ann84  @omgkatinka  @the-soot-sprite  @viking-raider  @keanureevesisbae  @henryobsessed  @summersong69   @sunshine96love  @michelehansel    @thelastsock   @tumblnewby  @tenaciousneckpartypainter  @rn7rocks  @daydreamin83  @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii  @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic   @tamychm  @nikkilynn303  @circesgirl1   @xoxohannahlee  @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24  @kaatelyyynn​  @october505​ @absentmindr​ @introvertedmouse​  @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @kebabgirl67 @its-carlerr

[bittercandysweetrain]

Tokyo revengers x reader with mental illness Mikey pt 1

Illness - PTSD, Hemophobia

(warning mention of suicide, drug use, guns)

Reader's pov - 23 seconds was how long it took for me to realize what I was staring at. But once everything set in, so did panic. My body began shaking, and my legs moved on their own running towards the blood-filled bathtub. "No, no, no" was all I could repeat as my body lunged forward into the cold red water. All I could do was pull the soaking-wet body out. the frail thin body of my younger brother was so heavy at the time. He was only thirteen at the time, how was his body so heavy. Laying him on the tiled floor my tears were blinding me. I tried to wake him up, to get any response he wasn't breathing he wasn't moving. My body covered in his blood, I hurried off out of the bathroom grabbing the phone from the counter between sobs and cries I begged for help. "My b-brother please! he cut his wrist he isn't waking up please, please help me!" I screamed the operator tried his best to calm me down. Everything was in slow motion all I can remember feeling was my heartbeat. It felt as if the Paramedics took forever to get there. All I could do is hold my brother, I didn't want to let him go. Because if I did he would leave forever but with the force of the paramedics I had to drop his hand. Watching them work on his body, I clutched my hand, praying he would wake up and take a breath! But the look in the man's eyes, when he glanced at his colleague, made me realize My little brother wasn't going to wake up again.

Author's pov - 7 years had passed and the nightmare lessen however they were always there especially the month y/n died. She was a sixteen-year-old girl going to school and working a part-time job to take care of him. She felt guilty for never realizing how depressed he was If only she knew but she was just so tired by the time she got home she hardly gave him any of her time. that guilt she will forever live with. At the age of 23 (y/n) was working two jobs one as a convenience store worker and the other as a hostess at a well-known club. Saturday and Sunday were her days as a hostess wearing the usual black cocktail dress and high heels she clasped her diamond earrings on and began fixing her makeup. "psst (y/n) did Tora tell you about your job tonight?" her cousin asked, "No? did she change the schedule again?" y/n asked "No she put you on to work with me for a big group coming in, she said its an early Christmas bonus. but I looked into the people coming big gang people called Bonten these people are hella rich but dangerous." she said, "of course, Tora gets the old bastards so its easy money while we have to deal with shitheads like them." (y/n) said annoyed already she sighed giving in quickly "Fine we need a game plan how many men?" (y/n) asked "Eight," her cousin said, "and she wants only us to work?" (y/n) asked perplexed by the decision, "They didn't want a lot of women I think it's more of a meeting thing." Rosé was (y/n) best friend slash cousin they grew up together and pretty much did everything she helped her get the job and tried her best to take care of (y/n) through everything. "well we'll just put on the charm get the most expensive bottles and show Tora she can't fuck with us her men are gonna start dying off and she is gonna be begging us for our clients." rose said smirking.

Mikey sat with his legs crossed on the red leather music playing in the background and a large window sat behind him a view of the clubbers dancing. Bonten had the largest V.I.P. room to relax and do whatever they wanted. Sanzu was cutting coke with a black card while Kakucho was already drinking fine whiskey with Takeomi. The Haitani brothers were smoking large blunts and staring at the TV where they had made bets on horses. The door to V.I.P opened, (y/n) and Rosé walked in holding Champagne and an ice bucket. Rosé took the lead "Hello boys mind if we keep you company, I am Rosé" she said in a seductive voice "and I am (y/n) its a pleasure to treat you tonight." (y/n) bowed slightly as she set the bucket down. (y/n) was looking for signs of the leader which she thought Mochizuki was as he did seem the oldest. she honestly didn't want anything to do with the leader but all of them looked quite scary except for Mikey. for some reason, his eyes drew her into those cold dark empty eyes. Rosé was pulled into Ran's lap "You're ours tonight." Ran said blowing the Smoke into her face (y/n) squinted her eyes at him annoyed with his action she clicked her tongue before being jerked into Sanzu.  "Relax a bit you seem stiff," he said, "dance with me the music tonight is good," he said popping the champagne open "Can you even dance?" she asked Sarcastically "How rude of you," he said Sanzu pulled out a gun shoving it in her face  "Dance now," he threatened, "you'll still get your money." Sanzu had a crazed look in his eyes then again he did do two lines of coke, Koko watched intently amused by the situation along with some of the others. "leave the poor girl alone" Takeomi said, "you'll make her piss herself then we will have to deal with the cleaning bill." he said teasingly "who said I was pissing myself" (y/n) retorted "I ain't scared of no gun, I won't dance for you either until you ask nicely." she said Rosé's eyes widen she moved forward but the Haitani brothers kept her in place. Enjoying the show "You want me to ask Nicely" Sanzu smirked, "how about I make a better deal" he said "You guess the leader sitting in this room and I won't bother you, I'll even hand over 10 grand you can even walk out of this room. but if you lose You don't get to say no tonight and you do what I want plus no pay." he said smirking Rosé looked at her cousin "Don't do it (y/n)" she said "Double it and Rosé gets half" y/n said Koko burst into laughter "Deal you got 5 minutes." he said 

(f/n) bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced at the men in the room this man was confident she wouldn't know the leader could it have been him? no, he was too reckless and was snorting his own supply meaning he was higher in rank but not the leader. the two guys with Rosé could have been leaders as well but something told her no meaning four were left. she looked at Mochizuki and Takeomi older more laid back but she didn't see them as the leader either. this left Kokonoi and Mikey "5,4,3,2,1-" sanzu smirked as he counted down "him" (y/n) pointed at Mikey "He is the leader." she said Koko smirked and Kakucho laughed followed by the rest except for Mikey and Sanzu. "Fuck how did you get that right," he asked "I took a course In body language he is the leader," she said Rosé took a sigh of relief. "fucking shit," sanzu wrote a check for twenty thousand dollars handing it to her (y/n) stuffed it in her bra sitting down at the end of the couch she crossed her legs and poured the champagne. "you're not leaving?" Sanzu asked, "You said you wouldn't bother me." y/n said winking at him Koko looked at Sanzu "She played you well I like her." he said chuckling Sanzu clicked his tongue throwing the whiskey glass the shattering glass hit Rosé cutting her face. "watch it Sanzu!" Rindou shouted angrily as glass landed on him and his brother (y/n)'s eyes widen as she glanced at Rosé, Rosé could feel the trickle of blood she turned her head to see her reflection in the mirror. the blood on her face wasn't bad but still, for y/n it was. She turned to see (y/n) getting up watching her stumble back. y/n eyes held full shock as her hands shook, and her breathing began to get heavy she bumped into the table that held the drinks. falling back she landed on the glasses shattering them. Rosé stood up in shock seeing (y/n) arms dripping with blood. (y/n) began screaming she went into full panic mode Rosé pushed off of ran rushing over. She held onto (y/n) "Calm down, calm down!" she shouted, "what the fuck is wrong with her!" Sanzu shouted, "She's Hemophobic!" Rosé shouted "What the fuck non of us are gay! Maybe Koko," he said, "Hemophobic, not Homophobic!" Rosé shouted as she pulled (y/n) up helping her out the door. "so much for a night out," Takeomi said "Night's ruined thanks sanzu," Koko said, "I didn't do anything!" Sanzu shouted Mikey sat back finishing his drink everything that happened before him he took in as a mental note for later.

[swallowed-by-the-moon]

had a dream that I was in an art class and was talking to go a person from my school and they gave me a bracelet they did themselves using bottle lids and asked if I was painting. I told them I don't understand colours so no, I don't and they replied with "oh, then you should ask serj to teach you" (serj is a teacher in my art school but we didn't have any lessons w him yet. Idk if he paints irl tho). and I was like "nuhh I'm good". and later on serj entered the class and that person told him to help me learn how to paint. then I started saying that I'll figure it out on my own and overall I tried to make serj forget about me and go on with his business. why am I telling this? because even in a dream I was trying to push him away. because every time I meet an older man (even if he's just several years older than me) my brain wants him to love me like my father didn't. and every time I become clingy to a stranger who probably thinks I'm crazy. so I just wanted to prevent my clinginess by pushing the guy away in the beginning and then trying not to contact him at all. how many older men I considered my father figures betrayed or manipulated me? let's see. the first one was my guitar teacher. I wanted him to like me and praise me so I practiced guitar daily. turned out to be an asshole and I realised it only when I left. bro was a misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic piece of shit. he also manipulated me to draw a logo for his band for free (lmao help I actually did). idk I was just blinded with an urge to make him love me so I ignored all this. another one, the guy from the dorm I once lived in. said he was once a punk and overall was super involved into the shit I was into so sometimes he just came and listened to what I have to say. thought he was comfy (even cried when he came for the first time) until I tried to kms lmao. after that he started acting like I was made of glass. and I was relapsing on my wrists so basically everyone could've seen that and he started telling how if I don't stop I would be put into the ward and they will inject sedatives into my arms and will turm me into a vegetable 😭😭😭 saying as if I didn't want that kinda sedation. guys don't try to kill themselves just for fun. I wanted it all to stop. after this I stopped sharing shit w him, fuck him, fuck his tricks, I know he became scared of me the day I attempted. all the ppl do lol. but he tried to trick me into thinking I can trust him. FUCK HIM. another one was a guy from a theatrical studio my parents made me attend. he was so cool and I wanted him to see me but I was always just a background guy and he just practiced with two girls or smth 🤭🤭 I always knew I lacked talent and all I'm good for is playing characters who kill themselves (true story, was my best portrayal tho). always knew the fucking shitshow that's going on inside of my head, being naturally dramatic, won't make me a good actor. and still got ignored, thanks

[nightguide]

y'see this guy. he's the 17th Doctor, and he is not going through some wonderland hokey like his music, he is very much confrontational about the life he had lived when he was only making a scene to River in hell but too paradoxed in reality in Hollywood as for animation, nothing like you'd see on TV, it's how you'd convince the actor that he is not exactly all that make-pretend laughter he sees behind the screens but the world went to another conscience of the viewer, what if.. she were the enemy.

meet the Madhatter. the brother of Missy

Madhatter: ya like how i look, Anson?

Madhatter: or do you think i need a certain bow tie to quip the change of my final looks because appearances matter, y'know. it's all about preeZentation to appease the audience when you're going into their homes like an average man, no. my father (song notes play at the background) was quite.. the mother i knew (strong laughter at the background)

(cheshire cat forms around the viewers eyes as me in hell)

so.... take it like a hero. take it like me, you were brought down (drags 17 down like a puppet to his knees) and so the affair calls of a teenaged adult girl looking for a weason to wiv... a sowwy wife she wanted but she... (Madhatter's eyes turns into a strong striking red that makes flowers turn to gold) never came. !HENCE! (vines appears to tangle the Doctor upwards into a heartbreak, catches up to the reason where he is now in jack and the beanstalk as Jack) NO STRONG FAIRYTALES RESIST A GOOD MALADY (laughs like a Madhatter) CREAMING IN YOUR JEWELLERY OF SILVER, AND GOLD BE. THE. EYES. (to himself stroking his sleeve became cheshire cat) i was once her and i understood the reason of me being alive (tips hat to the writer of the tale *his sister, Master Maestro*) *cheshire cat became his cane of invisible and daring wonder* (laughs in Madhatter) last words.. Anson? (expression is an invited declaration of heartbreak but he feels content knowing the actress is alive in real time hence why he smiles downward with the eyebrows upwards in 'you already know', is actually an inviting expression of fully known heart to heaven) hmm? *patience for 10 seconds as Anson himself is wrapped with vines that can't make him do anything, so he can actually talk but he knew where this was going from so he does it out of blind hope, what 16th Doctor actually told him in the end to master his beginning*'

17: 'but i-'

Madhatter: 'last words come falling' *drops 17 like Jack became the golden egg*

(17 does not die but he does feel paralysed because his heart is yet to be found and he does not actually feel pain only until he gets out of Wonderland)

17: (does the full speech) well, sir. you have a dream inside your soul that you could have taken me back to, it never should have happened with you but you should have happened with me, you should have happened with me Linna, you should have happe-.. oh... not UNSPOKEN *to the Doctor Who writers* (sighs) i should have stayed more quiet or more vocal or more lackadaisical, no, no, NO, (cries) *to himself* not what mama should have asked for, not what (insert little brother's name here) asked for, in the end he was defending her, no, ugh, not what i am because every Doctor Who actor deserves his own tag line of just (kicks sentient flower who is actually his wife in real life and it bleats), *to the flower* you too huh?, hmm, *smiles*, i don't know why we're going through all this, doncha (tickles little flower as it giggles back) doncha. okay. okay. (breathes out) this time (winks at camera) i will. follow the yellow brick road ('follow the yellow brick road' music comes on at the background while he walks along holding the little flower)'

(17's screams from mid air actually follows him while he's walking on the yellow brick road)

[the-sea-anemone]

The Eternal Recurrence of the Same

He lives and dies and wakes on the forest floor. (This story is also on Ao3)

The very first time, when he is truly thirteen, he wakes to starlight and an ache in his muscles. He’d been avoiding a confrontation — something with one of the teachers, maybe; it’s so long ago now he can’t remember. That’s why he’s here, pine needles digging into his skin, sprained wrist cradled to his chest. It hasn’t been bound; maybe he fell or maybe it happened in training and he stomped off in a huff before he could get it fixed.

He used to go back to camp, those first few times. He’d seen them all die, those people who weren’t his friends back then, but sometimes they were, if he played his cards right. A careful dance, that, building himself up to something better than he was, slow enough to keep anyone from growing suspicious. It’s too late for that now: he hasn’t been thirteen in a long, long time, hundreds of years, maybe, if you added it all together. He scrubs away tears — the teenage hormones hit him hard when he lives far enough into adulthood; nowadays he’s learned to ride it out.

In two hours, the sun will climb over the trees. The first time, he'd pried himself off the forest floor long before that, stumbled back to camp with skinned knees. The first time, he was lost nearly ’til dawn, so he’d just come into the clearing when it all got blown to hell. The first time, he cried as he bled out, hands clenched useless in the grass, gasping, face itchy with tears. He’d wanted his mother, who was... he doesn’t know what she was, anymore. That time with Emma, at the beginning, when they were still friends, he’d spoken bitter words of her.

If he stays there much longer, they’ll all be dead. It’s a long walk in the dark, and this last time he’s lived long enough to forget all the early parts that used to be muscle memory: wake up, walk, twenty neat headshots, hide the bodies. The first time, he’d thrown up, and the second, and the third. It was sheer blind luck he wasn’t caught until the fifth time, but it’s the first time he kills himself, one night in the prison where he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life.

People had come to see him, he can’t remember who anymore— his mother, or his father? One of the teachers, the sullen one, who he’d seen die half a hundred times. He’d live to be seventy, in the rare case nothing else killed either of them first. Why? They’d all asked it of him, those shadowy figures across the table. It’s a mash-up of all the prisons he’s seen since, on the rare occasions he thinks back on it. Sometimes he thinks there’s no life at all before that first night in the woods.

This time, he goes to the camp. Half the kids he couldn’t name if you put a gun to his head, for all the good it would do, but some he’s fought and died by their sides. He whips around at the sound of footsteps, drops into a defensive crouch. It’s a fragile thing, this thirteen-year-old body, all the techniques in his head useless without the strength or muscle memory to back it up. He straightens, smoothes down his clothes. The sprained wrist twinges— this body doesn’t have much pain tolerance, either.

“Where were you?”

It’s the teacher, the sullen one. He looks young, and light, without the weight of a dead husband on him. Correcting that death is more effort than reward, for all the times he tried, and he’s not sure when he started to weigh it like that, lives planned out on the spreadsheet he carries in his mind. Emma is on there, and their children— they’d married only once, grown old together as the war waged on in the background. There’d been grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nearly, but he’d died before then, quiet in his bed. And woken beneath the stars, the child’s aches nothing compared to the old man’s.

“Forest, sir. All quiet,” he says.

He’d been a soldier a dozen years this last time, and most of his lifetimes before that. Suspicious thing to say, that. It’s early in the game; he might as well start again. The pistol’s still heavy in his pocket. He spins it on his finger and shoots himself in the head.

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO CATA COSMIA, KOTOKO YUZURIHA. 🌕

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: laila age: 26 pronouns: they/he ooc contact: siriusenochikai twt clairvauxbernardus tumblr other characters in xc: shino, ishmael, joseph desaulniers

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Kotoko Yuzuriha age: 20 pronouns: she/her series: milgram canon point: deep cover app triggers: mentions of abuse/physical assault, murder, kidnapping

personality: Kotoko is a strong willed person who doesn't listen to what others say (unless they scream it to the point she can't ignore). If she wants a change, she will try to be that change, and she’ll do whatever is necessary for it within her power. 

Her desire to be a hero may have once been out of a genuine desire to do good for someone else, for someone like her; to be for someone what she never had. But the ends justify the means to her, so she might be blinded by her goals and do far too much that she won’t regret until she looks behind her in the aftermath. 

  She really never learned to cope with her ptsd in a healthy manner and never attempted to move forward from her trauma, resulting in someone who forgets how to have normal conversations. Previous judgements have lead to her being uncomfortable with close contact to a certain degree, with a mild case of scopophobia- her worst fear is being looked at the same way as someone she hates.

history / background:

Disclaimer: due to the nature of milgram this is based in speculation or vaguely given information and is subject to updates.

  Kotoko Yuzuriha, for reasons she does not like to disclose for any reason, was already who she is now at age 12. A 12 year old should have been smiling and playing games with other children, talking about plans for the break from school and talking about places they want to go. She instead was a stone faced and serious girl who was attending self defense classes and spending all of her time studying.

  At age 20, Kotoko was a law student with a part time job in journalism. She was trilingual and properly trained in taekwondo, studying psychology and anything even remotely related to law both inside and outside of Japan. On the side, she investigated crimes around on her own- journalists have those connections, after all, and she handled them her way. It’s hard to say if she actually wanted a job in law, or if she just wanted a good place to study it and every single flaw in each and every country and every single interconnected corruption to properly understand why the world is how it is and why she has to live the way that she does. Why so many people have to live the way that they do, at the mercy of their own government and own law, rather than at their protection.

  The law let a killer walk free. The law lets killers walk free.

  Money was all it took for that freak she was tracking to keep walking and keep finding new targets. Kotoko saw him take that little girl, and what was she supposed to do? The police were useless. They had always been useless.

  When she came to, his mangled corpse was below her, and his blood was on her fists and her sneakers.

  And even so, that little girl still hugged her and cried to her, because she may have just become a murderer, but she was her hero.

  Only her hero.

  Kotoko Yuzuriha was found innocent, her case falling under self defense. The father of that piece of shit didn’t care what his son had done, and he had the money to slander her even if double jeopardy meant she couldn’t get tried again.

  How could self defense explain the excessive force used beating that man’s face in? She had to be a monster, bribing a little girl to cover for her.

  She had to murder a serial killer to save his next target and whoever was after her- but to the media, she was the murderer, and that freak was her victim. She wanted to do good, and it made a monster of her.

powers / abilities: n/a 

inherent abilities: 

martial arts (taekwondo and possibly more? unsure). Enough strength to beat someone to death bare-handedly. 

Impressive detective skills since she’s able to track and punish criminals who went unfound by the authorities/law shes got one of those boards with the red strings and everything shes kind of scary

items / weapons: n/a

starting ability: n/a

starting item: n/a

extra: i love mean lesbians

discord id: prisoner010#7600

password: guys why are you all in prison <- crowdsourced joke

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP Angsty Imagines - React to Your Death pt. 3 --- c!Wilbur Soot

Part 3 to my series of “dsmp boys react to your death”:  Pronouns used: they/them (if mentioned) Warnings: explosions, spoilers for the events of Dream SMP, death, grief Words: 1.3+

The list: c!George c!Bench Trio c!Wilbur - (you are currently on this post)  c!Dream c!Technoblade - (coming soon!)

You had tried convincing your boyfriend not to blow up L’Manburg. But Wilbur Soot wouldn’t listen to you. He wouldn’t listen to anyone. Not in this state.

It had been a long time coming, honestly. Everyone should have noticed the signs. You should have noticed the signs, but it wasn’t as if you were actively looking for a reason to paint your lover as an insane psychopath. 

For months, Wilbur had slowly been descending into insanity. Looking back, the tells were all there. Very irregular sleeping patterns; sleeping not at all and then way too much, days when it seemed as if his emotions had been completely turned off, days when his temper seemed too volatile, the times when you’d catch him obsessing over books explaining the mechanics of tnt. It had all been laid in front of you, but you were too blind. 

That’s the thing about love, children. You either find yourself forced into relationships that make you unhappy or find yourself so in love with someone that it practically erases reality and judgment. There are a few lucky people. A few who find the loves of their lives and spend the remainder of their days in perfect happiness. No intoxicating amounts of infatuation, no feelings of emotional claustrophobia. You were not one of those lucky people. Not at all.

It was already too late to turn back by now. The two of you were already heading to the Button Room. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity were supposed to be with you, but they didn’t agree with Wilbur’s plan, so they stayed behind.

The three had been desperately trying to convince Wilbur to step down, to destroy the button and give up on his wild fantasies of watching his unfinished symphony burn to the ground. But that hadn’t worked, So they turned to you.

And as much as you agreed with their reluctance - and disagreed with your boyfriend, you had to support him. For that’s what he did with you. When you had been a newcomer to the server and no one would help you, he did. At the very least you owed him that. But you were beginning to doubt how far your support would actually go when you found yourself standing in the button room.

You and Wilbur looked up at all of the signs on the walls, each singing L’Manburg’s National Anthem in your head.

I heard there was a special place where men could go and emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers Well, this place is real you needn’t fret with Wilbur-

“You’ve been so good to me, Y/n.” Wilbur’s unusually quiet voice interrupted the anthem playing in your mind.

“I’m your partner, Will. I’m also your friend. It’s my job.” For some reason, you could bring yourself to say it was because you loved him. Your heart knew it was because you didn’t love him anymore. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It was a different type of love now. Much less blinding, and much more clear.

Wilbur reached up a faintly-scarred hand to touch one of the signs on the walls. “You’ve stuck by me and supported me even when no one else did.”

You could feel your face begin to heat up. “Will, about that.... Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

Your boyfriend whirled around at that. And for some reason, your mind began to sing the National Anthem once more.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“Don’t flake out on me now, Y/n. We’re so incredibly close. We’ve come this far together. You can’t possibly be thinking of abandoning me?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, sending ominous shivers down your spine.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“No! Of course not! I just think it would... make sense if you... thought about this some more,” you stammered, desperately fumbling for the right words.

Wilbur stepped toward you suddenly and you flinched backwards. He didn’t seem to notice - or care. “Y/n, if you don’t support me in this plan, I have no choice but to kill you. You know too much. And yes, I do remember that you’re on your last life. That changes nothing.”

Your thoughts froze, so did you. Never, did you expect him to go this far. Sure, you’d been aware of the fact that he was slowly becoming insane for weeks, but threatening your life? That was something you could never prepare yourself for.

You were trapped. Either way, you were pretty sure you’d die. If you agreed, the explosions would kill you. If you didn’t, Wilbur would. 

For freedom and for liberty our nation sought to build on these a victory for all under our freedom

“I’m going through with the plan, Will. We’re going through with it.”

Well the darkness came and then it went we built a home and watched it sink and from the rubble emerged my great-

Once again, the anthem in your head was interrupted. This time by Philza. Philza Minecraft. Your boyfriend’s father.

Your heart raced as it realized how close to pressing the button Will had been only heartbeats before. Philza and Wilbur were having a whole debate in the background. It was only when your name was called that you snapped out of your trance.

“Y/n?” Will asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Your head snapped up. “Yes?”

You almost shut down at the sad acceptance in Wilbur’s eyes. Had it worked? Had Phil really talked him out of pressing the button and triggering the tnt?

“Phil here has convinced me that maybe the button isn’t worth pressing.”

Hope sprung in your chest. It spread its wings.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

Your boyfriend leaned down to hug you, head resting on your shoulder as his back faced Phil. You were just about to hug him back when his whispered voice reached your ears, making you shiver.

“It’s all up to you now, Y/n.”

He straightened and left the Button Room, but not before giving you a pointed glance. 

With bloodied hands and weakened knees.

Your body felt frozen, pinned by impossible choices. By the future and the past.

“Y/n?” Philza’s concerned voice carried across the cave. “Are you okay?”

You scrambled for a convincing enough excuse. “Y-yeah. I just need a moment. Today has been... rough.” None of that was a lie.

With a slight furrow of his brows, Phil nodded. He began walking away.

Our people rose like the phoenix

You stopped him, though. “Philza.”

He turned around.

Our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree

“There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor, once a part of L’Manburg.”

Phil didn’t know how to react. He just nodded, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere, the tension.

With sweat and tears we armed our ranks we laid foundations in our land

“Have you ever heard of Eret?”

Once again, Philza only nodded.

You could feel your body heat up with anticipation. The moment was nearing.

And from every lips for here up to infinity

“Yeah, he had a saying, Phil.” You felt your fingertips ghost the surface of the button.

We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg

“It was never meant to be.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-

Wilbur Soot was too busy smiling at the series of explosions going off behind him to realize the fact that you were dead.

And even when those around him cried as they mourned your death, not a single tear streaked down his cheek. No pang of sadness or remorse was felt by this man who had strayed too far down the path of insanity.

Perhaps once, he would have torn up the world looking for a way to revive you. But that Wilbur was long gone. That Wilbur was the one you’d fallen for, the one you’d follow to the ends of the server.

But you’d failed to realize that the Wilbur of today was not the Wilbur you loved. And that mistake turned out to be fatal.

[deceitful-darlings]

I can see the more manipulative side of Diavolo wanting to score brownie points with stepdaughter. He rehires the assassin behind your mother’s death, but this time the target is you. The assassin is known for their greed and Diavolo happily plays upon this fact. Tripling the reward while insisting he plans the assassination himself since the castle is on high alert. Blinded by their own greed they totally miss the glaring red flags that lead to their ultimate downfall.

They have you pinned beneath them, their weapon of choice seconds away from ending your life when the door to your room blasts open. In an instant your assailant is sent flying across the room by Diavolo in his demon form. Apparently he wanted to check in on you before turning in for the night and he heard your muffled cries. Barbatos is at your side and scanning you for any injuries while shouts are heard from approaching guards. The assassin goes to question Diavolo for his interference when the man in question silences him for good. He can’t have some background character ruining the plot he’s painstakingly created over the last several months. 🤷🏻‍♀️

You practically throw yourself into his arms when he approaches. Sobs wracking your small body as you clutch desperately at his shirt. No one questions him as he barks orders while carrying you to his private quarters. Tonight you’ll sleep in his room with him where you’ll be safe and sound.

Since your mother’s death you’ve certainly become more reliant on him, but still for Diavolo it just isn’t enough. You still trust others in the castle, you still believe they’ll keep you safe, you need to understand that while they do so under his order, he is the only one that can truly keep you safe.

The assassin doesn’t ask any questions, and for Diavolo the plan is set from the beginning, the investigation into your mother’s death is still ongoing after all, and he can’t have anyone else finding them. They’re a greedy soul, but that doesn’t mean that they’ll keep their mouth shut if caught, the last thing he needs is them bringing his reputation into question, even if it’s with the truth, it was a political marriage and he can’t risk the damage it could do to the devildom is it’s revealed he was the one that had your mother murdered. So he sees this as a chance to kill two birds with one stone, he sets the stage and waits for the day of your failed assassination to approach.

You had become a bit more secure in the castle overtime with the heightened security, the extra guards giving you peace of mind even if the assassin hadn’t yet been caught. So when you return to your room for the night, you don’t think to check anything, simply changing into your nightgown and preparing to get into bed. But instead, when you walk across the room to blow out the candles opposite your bed, you find yourself pinned against the rug with a hand over your mouth and a dagger to your throat. Your cries are muffled and your thrashing under him does nothing to move him. He goes to say something and you’re preparing yourself for the pain when the door to your chambers burst open with suffocating force.

The assassin is thrown from your form and Barbatos is by your side checking you over in an instant, Diavolo’s towering demon form stepping through the door, and glaring down at the assassin with a look of rage that’s terrifying even to you who knows his kindness so well. The assassin is winded, but tries to splutter words out, but the noise of the guards approaching makes it harder to hear the small wheeze of.

“Your Majesty-“

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”

The words are as heavy as his stare, and it’s at that point the assassin realises, their eyes widening when they realise it’s all been a set up to dispose of him. But he isn’t able reveal the truth before his heart comes to a stop. Even with him being the one to hire them, Diavolo’s anger isn’t any less real, he wants to torture them for ever daring to raise a weapon to you even if he paid for it to happen, yet his destructive want is lessened when he remembers you, he doesn’t want to show you a side of himself that’ll scare you. So instead he simply uses his power to kill them quietly, not too bloody.

When the guards arrive he allows them to clear away the body, he changes back to his more human form and approaches you, still next to Barbatos, but the moment you see him you immediately run to him to seek comfort in his arms. He welcomes you immediately, letting you cling to him and sob into his chest, embracing you in what’s probably one of the scariest moments of your life, wanting his warmth to be engraved in your mind as something safe, something to search for especially in moments of distress, cooing apologies and words of comfort in your ear.

Of course, even when the event has been dealt with, you’re still shaking, fingers tightly gripping the material of his shirt. He ushered away the guards and tells them not to summon anyone to question you until morning, and when he sees the fear shining in your eyes at the insinuation that you’ll be left in this room to go to sleep, he has the hold back the smile. How could he leave his scared daughter in such a cold, scary room considering what happened? No, you’ll come with him tonight, he’ll hold you through the night to keep you warm and safe, you don’t need to be scared when he’s there to protect you.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.4) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART FOUR

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

----

"Miss Y/N, is daddy okay?" Hoisuke peers up at you from the backseat as you pull up to your apartment unit. You glance at him through the rearview mirror and smile, "don't worry, he's fine. He's just going to be slightly late."

Iwaizumi had called you earlier that day, sounding breathless and stressed out as he iterated how slow traffic was moving. On impulse, you'd proposed to bring Hoisuke over to your house to make things more comfortable and after a slight bout of hesitation, he'd agreed to pick his son up in the comfort of your home.

"This is the first time I come to your place, miss Y/N," Hoisuke's eyes are darting back and forth across the tiny kitchenette to your right to the small tv screen plugged to the wall on the left. Granted, your flat is merely anything special and far from ready for unexpected guests. But the sharp curiosity gleaming in your student's eyes holds no judgement and for that you apprrciate him all the more.

"You hungry?" You ask while settling him down at your tiny dinner table compact enough to fit snuggly up to your kitchen counter.

Hoisuke purses his lips in thought and you swear he's learnt this facial expression from observing his father, "hm yeah. A little bit," before throwing you a sheepish grin.

So you whip up something simple; omelette rice with your special Korean chilli sauce as a sudden downpour splatters through the cityscape, the rain dancing to its own rhythm as it splatters over your windowpane. The TV plays in the background, a random cartoon that gets interrupted with Hoisuke's giggles and that ignites an affectionate smile on your lips as you chide himto eat. And you're not really sure why your chest feels tight and filled to the brim with comfort, but you realise you don't actually mind having the small human around that much.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites. But you admit to yourself that teachers are only human. And if you are to choose, Hoisuke would be one of yours.

"Miss Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?" Hoisuke's voice pierces through your thoughts and as you blink down at him, you shake your head, "no, I'm single as a pringle."

"You are not married then."

"No I'm not."

"Great!" Hoisuke jumps up on his seat, eyes twinkling with mischief, "then do you want to marry daddy?"

"What?" You laugh out, "it doesn't work that way Hoisuke."

"But I like you miss Y/N," he replies with the seriousness of a child wanting his way, "You'd be a great mum. Can you be my mum?"

"Oh gosh kiddo," your hand reachea out to ruffle his hair, heart twisting at how easily he leans into your touch, "I'd love to be your mum, but--"

"Then marry my dad," Hoisuke's mumble is muffled against your side. He unconsciously snuggles up to you and you caress the top of his head down to his nape, "daddy likes you too. He really likes you. You make him happy. He laughs a lot when you're around, and he doesn't get sad like he usually does when Mama is here."

"But that would be unfair to your mum wouldn't it?" You say softly, "you can't have two mums. She'll be upset."

There's a slight pause where you can see the cogs turning in his brain, "yeah," he says eventually, "but I don't really like going to Mama's anyway--"

The sound of your doorbell jolts you both to attention. You give Hoisuke's head one more ruffle before getting up to unlock the door.

Only to come face to face with none other than Hoisuke's mother.

You blink. Once. Twice. Unconsciously taking a step back.

She's pretty. Prettier up close, with those feline cat eyes and that full mouth that renders any man crazy. Standing a few inches higher than you, there is no doubt as to why Iwaizumi had fallen for her charms in the first place. She looks like the kind of woman that would still be elegant even dressed in a mechanician's uniform.

"H-Hello," your eyes dart from hers to a blank spot on the wall opposite, "can I help?"

"Where's Hoisuke?" Her voice is smooth, yet hard enough to make you wince.

"I--" your mind races. Isn't Iwaizumi supposed to pick him up? And how the hell does she know where you live?

She seems to read your face as she says, "I saw you with my son leaving the school. You're his...teacher, aren't you? I was waiting to pick him up."

"I thought Iwaizumi-san--"

"I don't need a reason to see my son," she arches her brows at you in a way that makes you want to crawl under a carpet and hide.

"Mama?" Hoisuke's voice floats from behind you, a tentative waver of nervousness as you hear him pad up to the door.

"Does Iwaizumi-san know you're picking him up?" You hope your tone is diplomatic, but the way her body tenses proves you otherwise, "You can tell him Hoisuke's with his mother," she nods at her child, "now come on Hoisuke. Let's go home."

Maybe feeling the tension in the air, Hoisuke merely shrinks back, "but it's Daddy that picks me up."

"Yes well, Daddy's not here now is he?" She gestures aggressively towards him, "now come on."

"Maybe we should wait until Iwaizumi-san gets here," you try to smooth things over, "he's on his way--"

"Don't tell me what to do with my child," Mizune snaps and without warning, grabbing hold of Hoisuke's arm before pulling him out of the flat. He resists.

"Mama no, let's wait for Daddy--"

"Daddy isn't coming. Now stop being so difficult," she doesn't relent against the way her son twists and kicks at the ground while you stand there, mind blind with panic because you've never actually had to deal with such a situation before.

"Mama please!" Hoisuke cries out with a sob.

You want to move. You urge yourself to. But your feet won't budge. It's like you're rooted in place.

Hoisuke has started crying at this point and in an attempt to smoothen things out, you try again by saying, "I'm sure we can all calm down and talk this out. As a teacher, I cannot--"

"That's right," Mizune's feline pupils narrow down on you, making you flinch at the rage simmering through those dark orbs, "you're his teacher. And as a teacher, you should know how to keep your boundaries. You're not his mother and you never will be. So fucking stay out of my family's life."

The words burn as they etch themselves into memory and you can only watch, hand clutched to the door as Mizune drags her crying son away. His cries are loud enough that they bounce throughout the corridor and keeps resonating even when he's long gone, as you try to comb through the last fifteen minutes where everything has turned upside down.

Fucking stay out of my family's life.

Your brain reels. Your heart feels heavy. You don't know what to do, what to say.

And Mizune's words are as sharp as a knife.

Don't tell me what to do with my child.

A sob slowly catches the back of your throat, eyes slowly brimming with an onset of tears.

You're not his mother.

The truth hurts. You know that Hoisuke is not your child, know that all this time it's merely Iwaizumi and his son, and then you watching on the sidelines. But hearing the cold rejection thrust in your face hurts more than you'll admit.

You aren't quite sure how long you stand there gazing into the empty corridor as if if you will it hard enough, Hoisuke will come running back to you. It is only when a familiar alto reaches your ears that you snap back to attention:

"Y/N?"

Jerking at the sound and looking up to see none other than Iwaizumi, drenched and breathless, standing a few feet away from you, your breath hitches in warning.

He closes the distance between you, frowning upon noticing the tears at the corner or your eyes, "what's wrong? Where is Hoisuke--"

"I'm..." your eyes drop to the ground, "I'm sorry," your whimper is barely above a whisper and you feel him move closee, his hand gently grasping your arm.

"Y/N?" His voice is gentle, though ragged and breathy, "what happened?"

It's probably the gentlest he's ever been with you. Turning away to cup your mouth with your hand, your teeth clamp down onto your lower lip in hopes of keeping the emotion from spilling over.

"Mizune came," you murmur out, "she took Hoisuke home."

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part. A pause, "how did--"

"She followed us."

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh as he moves towards you and you stagger back to hide your tears, but it proves useless when his hand grasps your arm to pull your hand away.

Deep brown mocha meet yours. Your throat tightens.

"Sorry," you breathe out a forced chuckle but it's clear from Iwaizumi's face that he's spotted your tears, and that he just knows that there is something bothering you.

But he doesn't ask. Doesn't question your intent or your feelings.

Instead, he pulls you close, close enough you're stumbling into him, before his hand wounds around the back of your head and presses you against his shoulder.

It shocks you, the sudden intimacy of his touch. His citrus smell once again invades your space and you can't find it in yourself to keep on holding on before you break down.

Maybe it's because you had felt-- at this point in time -- that you were someone significant in Hoisuke and Iwaizumi's life that you're not crying into Iwaizumi's shoulder as if everything is going downhill in your life. But you're comforted by the casual way he holds you with his head turned away so that you can bury yourself in the crook of his collarbone.

"Sorry," you manage to mumble out after you've managed to calm down. He's moved you back into your flat and has sat you down onto your kitchen chair, having rummaged through your utensils to bring you a cup of water that you sip on gratefully, if only to act as a distraction from the way he's gazing at you.

Iwaizumi shakes his head silently, looks away and clears his throat, "I'm gonna call her. You good?"

You nod and after searching your face for a few more seconds, he slides out of his seat and walks away with the device already presses to his ear. Bowing your head and gulping down the rest of the water, you manage to block out his angry alto resonating through the compact space as you focus on regaining control of yourself. You rarely fall to pieces like that, rarely give in to the downward pull of your emotions because the nature of your job obliges you to.

"Y/N."

You jump involuntarily and look up to see the said man sporting a frown, "is Hoisuke okay?" You ask.

"He's fine," a sigh escapes his lips as he slides back into the chair as if there's a weight pressing down onto his shoulders, "I'll pick him up tomorrow after school."

You nod. Good, the last thing you need is for Hoisuke to be disrupted by problems that don't concern him.

When he speaks next though, his alto is hoarse and thick, "I'm sorry Y/N. You don't deserve to get in the middle of all this."

"It's okay."

His eyes pierce yours with burning hot intensity, causing your gaze to drop to your fists laying across the table, knuckles so tight they're turning white.

A bout of silence ensues, lest for the pounding in your heart while your thoughts take on a tumultous turn for the worse. What if Mizune is angry? What if she stops Hoisuke from coming to school altogether? What if she makes her child move just for the sake of keeping him away from his teacher who can't seem to keep her nose out of anyone's business? What if--

Warmth floods your hands so suddenly that it interrupts your train of thought. Head jerking up in surprise to see Iwaizumi's hands clasp yours, your blood suddenly pulses through your limbs upon feeling his thumb gently stroke over your knuckles.

Iwaizumi is not a man of words. That much you know, but this evening has been full of surprises for you both. So you force yourself to relax, almost enjoying the gentlest of his touches fluttering across your skin.

"How," your words are choked, "how angry is she?"

"That doesn't matter."

"But what if--"

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," he replies firmly, followed by a gentle squeeze, "whatever you have cooking in that head of yours, stop."

Nodding and sighing in defeat, you lapse into a more comfortable silence as the time dwindles on. It's different to have someone else occupying your flat, considering that you've gotten so used to living along after your horrible breakup. A good kind of different.

When you bid him goodbye that evening -- granted you shall wake up with dark circles and puffy eyes the next day -- he suprises you with another casual, one-armed hug which signifies so much more for the usually reserved man, Hoisuke's bag hanging loosely from the other. He holds you close, his grip strong and secure and making you wish you can melt in a puddle of warmth at his feet, while his cheek pillows atop your temple against the side of your head. You lean in, cozy and warm, while his heart beats underneath your ear like a gentle drum easing you of today's worries and you wish you have the willpower to keep yourself away, in vain.

He pulls away slightly, mutters a soft "night" before a ghost of a kiss imprints itself on your temple.

Your breath hitches but the moment is gone all too son. He's already swivelling around and making his way down the corridor, leaving you to stare after him with a wild, raging heart.

You know, without a doubt, that you're already a little too skin-deep.

----

Iwaizumi is furious. Filled to the brim with a rage that's threatening to bubble over his insides.

He'd gone round to fetch Hoisuke in the morning as promised, just managing to keep himself from knocking his ex-wife's double mahogany doors down only to be greeted by that stupid bastard who'd stolen his wife away.

Todoka had always roamed within the same circle of friends as Iwaizumi and Mixune, having met under the same dormitory roof and sharing common sports interests. So imagine how big of a slap it was to hear that he'd been the one stealing kisses and sharing soft subtle touches with his wife behind his back.

"I could've driven him if only you'd let me," Mizune had told him as they waited for Hoisuke to finish brushing his teeth. is ex-wife's familiar soprano made him tense. Her face was a cold mask of indifference that covered up her silent anger. She'd folded her arms, chin jutted out and lips pursed, "he's my son too, you know."

"Was he still your son when you went and fucked Todoka?"

She'd sighed. As if dealing with the tantrum of a child, "Why are you bringing this up again?"

"Because you never put him first. Not when he threw his tantrums, not when he cried for you. Not even when he was sick," Iwaizumi spat out, the words tasting bitter upon his tongue.

"I had issues Hajime, you know that--"

"Like what? Like we weren't good enough for you? Like I wasn't pulling myself apart while you were out for nights on end?" Iwaizumi would've continued with an onslaught of pent-up statements if his son hadn't spoken out:

"Daddy?"

"Hey bud," Iwaizumi's anger had deflated like a hot air balloon, "you ready to go?"

And so he packed his son up in the car, his ex-wife watching his every move, and just after he'd closed his vehicle door did Mizune mention something about you.

"Do you like her?"

He'd bristled, "none of your business."

"Hoisuke is my son," Mizune's eyes had hardened into steel, "I don't need anyone else filling up his head with stupid ideas, nor do I want him to get hurt--"

"Like you did?" The words were fire burning upon his tongue. His shoulders were squared as he faced her fully, "stop beating around the bush, Mizune. We both know you hate the fact that Hoisuke loves spending time with Y/N."

"That's not it, I--"

"Y/N has spent more time with Hoisuke in a week than you did in a month. She's wiped his tears more timesthat you've seen him cry," he swivels towards his car then, "are we done?"

"You're acting like a child."

"I'm not the one picking a fight because of some petty jealousy," Iwaizumi had snapped.

"I'm not jealous!" Mizune burst out, her patience finally wearing thin, "I'm trying to look out for him, for you! She's not right for you--"

"Don't. Talk about her like that,” Anger had flared at how dismissively she spoke of you, visible as his knuckles tightened and a vein throbbed in his forehead, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck out of my life."

He'd driven off without looking back, knowing full well he'd shocked her into silence and if he were to be honest with himself, that outburst had eased some of the knots in his stomach. Dealing with Hoisuke's anxiety after witnessing yet another argument though, that was something else.

"Daddy, I don't understand why you and Mama fight so much," Hoisuke finally finds his voice when they stop inside the school gtounds. His small chubby hand, fitting into Iwaizumi's large one, cling to him with more force than necessary as they make their way to his respective class.

"Your mama and I...have different opinions on things," Iwaizumi tries to explain, suddenly guilty that his son has to pick up all the broken pieces. Impulsively, he ruffles Hoisuke's locks, "don't worry."

And that's when his son stops in mid-walk, looks him dead in the eye, and tells him, "Mama doesn't like miss Y/N, does she?"

It's a different kind of slap, but he shouldn't have understimated the little five year old. Children know much more than they let on snd here's the proof of it.

Iwaizumi allows both his hands to clasp Hoisuke's shoulders and bends down until they are face to face, "hey," dark mocha meets lighter caramel tinged with a fear of a child desperate for a family that all his friends can take for granted, "that doesn't matter. Do you like miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke nods, eyes wet.

Iwaizumi's heart swells and he swears he doesn't ever want to see that expression on his son's face, not if he can help it.

"Then it doesn’t matter what your Mom tells you," he squeezes the child's shoulder for good measure, "no one can boss you around and tell you that you're not allowed to like who you like," he brushes a few hairs off Hoisuke's forehead, "not me, not even your mom. Got that?"

“Will we be able to invite miss Y/N again?” Hoisuke asks with a trembling bottom lip. 

“If you want to.” 

“Do you want to, daddy?” 

That question takes him by surprise, the familiar guilt lurching through his stomach as he tries to comb through an excuse to hide his growing feelings. 

Except, why does he have to hide in the first place? 

It takes a moment, before Iwaizumi nods, “yeah,” he murmurs gently with the softest of smiles, “I want to.” 

Hoisuke nods once more, which is shortly followed by lurching into Iwaizumi's arms as a sob echoes from his throat. His father holds him close, glad that the earlier tension from Hoisuke's has dissipated into relief for now.

What he doesn’t know though, is that you stand just a few feet away, body tucked into the corner of the wall and holding up your racing heart against your chest. 

------

The more you spend more time with the Iwaizumis, the more your heart gets invested in the coaxing warmth that makes up their family. You try to dismiss what you've overheard back in the school corridor but it's an itch you can't quite erase now that you've been exposed to Iwaizumi's feelings, which does nothing to stop the way your heart skips a beat whenever his gaze lingers upon yours for too long.

And you've taken notice. Or you think you do. Of how he sounds more gentle whenever he talks to you, how whenever you play hands they drift towards each other for a few extra seconds that causes your skin to tingle with warmth. How it is so goddamn easy to fall into this familiar routine of playing families with Hoisuke around like a human sunshine.

But there's still one thing nagging you. Which is why you corner him once you have tucked Hoisuke into bed on Saturday night, seeking him out on the small terrace tucked beside his kitchen that overlooks the glowing city lights.

"Can I ask you something?"

His gaze flits to yours. He nods.

Swallowing back the sudden knot of anxiety in your throat, your question comes out more like a soft proposition rather than a demand fot answers.

"I know it's none of my business, but-- I overheard you and Hoisuke a few days ago in the school corridor," your words are rushed and quick as you fold your arms over your chest, "did you and Mizune have a fight...about me?"

Iwaizumi shifts in your peripheral to face you, but your eyes adamantly find purchase onto the cement ledge splattered with dirt. For a split second, you wonder whether it wouldn't have been better to keep your mouth shut.

"What did you hear?" He asks quietly.

With a slow breath, you tell him what you've heard, underlining that this whole encounter was an accident.

"And from the way she acted when she saw me...well, it's not hard to put two and two together," you finish off in a mumble, then quickly adding, "look I--I don't want to come in-between you and your family. I just don't want Hoisuke to get hurt."

Surprise flits through his features. He regards you for a long moment, long enough that you feel like squirming underneath his gaze.

Then, taking you by surprise, he chuckles softly and shifts his elbows onto the edge of the terrace, "No wonder he likes you."

You blink at him. It suddenly feels a little too warm.

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," you wonder since when have the formalities dropped from Miss Y/N to just Y/N and decide that you like the way your name rolls off his tongue, "Mizune gets jealous over stupid shit and if she can't see someone else making her son happy then that's not our problem."

Your teeth unconsciously find purchase onto your lower lip, which he notices. That doesn't stop him from reaching over to press his thumb against your lower lip, "don't."

You freeze at the touch. His thumb is warm against your mouth, calloused and sending a series of tingles down your spine.

He must realize the intimacy of his touch, for he drops his hand away and mutters, "he's...livelier. when you're around. Happier, even. I've never seen him like that with his Mama."

"What about you?"

You feel like slapping yourself. The audacity coming out of your mouth surprises you and you swear your cheeks burst into flames.

Iwaizumi looks at you almost at the same time your pupils focus on his, causing your breath to hitch.

Why the hell can't you just keep your mouth shut?

Iwaizumi's voice is merely a murmur when he speaks next, deep and laced with a roughness.

"What about me?"

Your brain seems to turn to mush, "do you like having me around?" You hope you don't sound too pathetic.

Your heart almost stops at his next set of words.

"I do."

And there's that smile, barely there but enough that your own lips stretch to mirror his action. Until you realize you are smiling at him like a fool and quickly look away like you've just been burnt.

Something shifts in the air between you, spurred on by the way your eyes keep searching each other's with a growing tension that makes your skin rattle. Iwaizumi's frown is present, yet not unpleasant and you're not quite sure who moves, just that he's suddenly a little closer. Close enough you get a whiff of the citrus smell you've come to recognize as his own.

"Miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke's voice suddenly snaps you out of your daze. Quickly whipping around to see the said boy rubbing his eyes, a hand unconscioudly scratching his tummy, your entire countenance softens as he blinks up at you sleepily.

"I can't sleep," he mumbles out with sleep still in his eyes, "can you come back to bed with me?"

"Yeah sure," you're already on your way over to him, scooping the child up in your arms. He takes this chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contently.

You turn back to his father, a dark silhouette against the bright landscape, "I'll be right back."

But Hoisuke surprises you by saying, "you too, Daddy."

Iwaizumi stills, "what?"

"Come to bed too, Daddy."

For one single moment, it's like time stops. You can't see Iwaizumi's face but a moment later he straightens and walks over, nodding at you when he's close enough. You don't realize your heart is besting like a hummingbird until you hear it throbbing through your chest as you try squeezing into Hoisuke's bed, you in the corner and his father barely hanging onto the edge, Hoisuke squished in-between.

It's like an instinct for the boy to latch onto your shirt. He turns to burrow himself into the curve you've made with your body, facing Iwaizumi who is half-sitting, half-lying down in an angle that surely isn't comfortable.

So you decide to point it out to him, patting the bed for good measure in hopes that he doesn't notice the warm flush of your neck.

"It's okay," your whisper tickles Hoisuke's hair, "it's only until he falls asleep."

He hesitates, before you see his head nod and he slides his body a little closer, chest curving into Hoisuke's back and close enough for you to get bathed in his warmth.

He smells good. He looks good. God. Why does he look so damn good?

Stop! You squeeze your eyes shut aa if that might help your racing thoughts, and you are so caught up in your own head that you almost miss the gentle brush of Iwaizumi's fingers against your shoulder.

You tense up right before realizing that his action is intentional. Your shoulders slowly relax, a shaky exhale escaping your lips as he takes the chance to linger over your arm a little longer, before falling away onto the mattress.

You fall asleep that night listening to not just Hoisuke's, but Iwaizumi's heartbeat. 

----

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