#and it has a lot of soothing nature noises and idk that just reminds me of Smithy and his down to earth nature

[incorrectjane-andthedragon]

Smithy: It took me years to understand the "Why the long face" punchlines to "so a horse walks into a bar" jokes because I just thought that's a normal sized face to have if you're a horse. It never occurred to me to judge a horse by the standards of man.

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS [part 5]

— people with jupiter in the 8th may experience an “abundance” of traumatic experiences throughout life, often relating to death; these are the people who truly feel like everyone they love ends up dying. at their worst, they can become desensitized to death— jupiter is ruled by sagittarius, a sign known for being in denial when in difficult situations in favor of optimism. these natives can pretend like nothing actually happened, or minimize the situation in their head so that they don’t have to face it.

— okay this might be a weird one... like, you know in asoiaf when arya was walking through the streets and was always like “i’m as quiet as a shadow”? that’s literally the energy of someone with planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house. these people are so stealthy. they’re able to move so quietly and without anyone noticing, both literally and figuratively. on one hand, they’re very quiet about their plans and ambitions to the point where other people only find out when they’re achieving success over it; on the other hand, they just. don’t like making noise while walking idk bitch you’ll only see me coming when i’m right beside you, i even get paranoid that i’m breathing too loud and that other people will hear 

— people with moon aspecting mars can be incredibly impulsive when they feel hurt or triggered. yall need to be careful with doing things in the heat of the moment that you know you’ll regret later... but in the moment, you feel so hurt that it clouds your rational side. please be more self-aware about this because you may make decisions that will directly affect you for the worse in the future 

— people with leo mars ft. constantly asking you for pictures... about anything. they just wanna SEE LMFAO THEY DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS THEY’RE SEEING. you just got ready to go out? “send pics of your makeup and your full outfit”. you’re waiting in a long boring line to get the covid vaccine? “send pics of the line”. your mom baked cake? “send pics of the cake”. plus they send so many random pictures while texting, it’s their special love language

— having moon conjunct moon/venus in synastry feels insane. you tell them something you’ve been through, and they’re immediately like “that happened with me as well.” it doesn’t even have to be something grand, sometimes just very specific things you thought were particular about you. the amount of understanding that comes with this aspect in synastry can feel very new and intense especially if you’re used to seeing yourself as the “odd one out”, used to feeling isolated in your experiences 

— people with pluto in the 1st house often feel the need to erase “traces” of their existence, for example deleting messages that they sent people, deleting all of their social media posts. they can feel anxious and paranoid about other people having access to their past self, even if the past self in question is from, like. a week ago 

— people with chiron in the water houses (4th/8th/12th) might’ve suffered bullying to the point where they repress their memories. a lot of their memories of their school years may feel foggy if they were bullied in those years

— also. people with chiron in the 8th house may feel as though they’ve been punished for wanting to experience intimacy. it’s like, the people who were supposed to be the closest to them – for example, their sibling or something – were the ones who hurt them the most. 

— people with mercury-neptune aspects and strong pisces/neptune energy in their birth chart might struggle with only remembering things when they’re right in front of them. you should keep things in your peripheral vision to remind you of reality, especially when it comes to feelings— so that you won’t start getting lost inside your own head. like... keep the letters your friends wrote you by your bedside table so you can read them every time your brain starts convincing you that you’re not loved. keep the gifts you’ve been sent on display in your bedroom wall, or sentimental material things that remind you of past happy experiences.

— earth placements and their thing for asmr... omfg. it’s like they’re always looking for things to up their sensory experience/sensitivity. like, earth signs are the ones most connected to worldly experiences so they feel so soothed with the whole asmr experience: just hearing someone gently whispering or tapping on/scratching things calms them down and helps them fall asleep. they love the tingles it’s heaven for them

— moon-saturn aspects might hold and caress themselves while they sleep because their parents never did. yes i woke up and chose violence <3 your secret is NOT safe with me 💋

— while we’re on the topic of sleeping, a majority of the pisces moons i know need to sleep while hugging something, at least a pillow. they can’t just not hug something while they sleep, it’s very instinctive for them. anyways if any pisces moon needs a pillow to hold, i volunteer as tribute 💋

— virgo placements feel sososo soothed by hearing their cats purr. thinking about how my virgo placement friends are always the ones who send me videos of them petting their cats... and then i get soothed by how soothed they feel. it’s a win win situation, if you have virgo placements it’s hereby your duty to send me a video of you petting your cat while they purr. right now. GO

— people with gemini in the 3rd house might have shaky movements of the hands when other people look at them doing things. very specific i know but the third house rules hands and gemini is a sign that has somewhat of an anxious, twitchy quality to it. on the other hand, people with capricorn in the 3rd house (scorpio risings, using whole signs) have the steadiest hands i’ve ever seen lol their movements ooze confidence, these bitches know how to make you feel as thought they know exactly what they’re doing

— people with venus in the 1st house ft. altering their pics with photoshop and hating posting selfies without filters because they never feel like their appearance is good enough. stop it. you don’t need to always look your best and especially not if your ‘best’ isn’t even what you actually look like. also... don’t even think about making self-deprecative jokes about your appearance. next time i find one of yall saying “ahaha im not bad for a 5 without talent” i’m squishing your head between 2 pieces of toast and calling you an idiot sandwich. you’re BEAUTIFUL 

— having venus in the 3rd house in composite with someone? do you mean calling each other the absolute ugliest nicknames in the most endearing way? 

— leo deals with themes of the ego, and it seems that leo placements often struggle with attracting narcissistic people into their life... leo suns/mercuries can be raised by loud, overbearing, narcissistic parents who see their kid as an extension of themselves and who teach the kid to always be very supportive and caring towards them or else they’ll deny them of words of affirmation-- either by insulting them to shatter their self-esteem or simply never complimenting the kid back. leo moons/mars/venus tend to attract narcissistic partners who only care about serving their own emotional needs and ignore the ones of their partner, and who feed off of their supportive and giving nature. which is why leo placements really need to watch out for being gullible, naïve and dismissing the red flags because my god, you be falling for some shady people. 

— people with personal planets in the 12th house/chart ruler in the 12th house might feel like they can’t let go of their past life— they may dream of memories, people or places from another life. it’s like they can’t detach from it, and even if they can’t directly remember their past life, it’s like they feel it in their bones. also, they might’ve felt... estranged from their family ever since childhood; there may have been feelings of being unable to emotionally connect to their (often, distant) parents, and they might’ve even wondered if they were adopted because of how different they felt to the rest of the family. 

— okay so, a thing that people with saturn in the 3rd house need to look out for is mentally checking out of conversations while they’re still happening. these people can detect when they’re being manipulated really fast and their way of dealing with it can be to immediately shut down, to grow cold and silent and not even bother answering when you’re expected to respond. and, like, that’s great when someone starts screaming at you or being insulting/trying to coerce you into shit, but take notice if you find yourself shutting your loved ones out as soon as they say anything that triggers you. don’t simply detach from them, communicate what’s wrong

— aries placements, ESPECIALLY aries suns and moons, value generosity so much and they get so turned off by stingy ppl who don’t share with others, especially when others need it. like.. if you’re hanging out in a group with them and someone asks for a bite of your food because they have no money and you say no... espect them to never respect you. ever. 

— people with libra placements use soooo many adjectives to describe things. something can’t just be beautiful, it has to be DIVINE and CELESTIAL and INTOXICATING. they can be so expressive god it’s so fcking funny 

— capricorn placements HATE asking others for advice because they think no one knows better than them (and they’re not wrong, lol). when they truly care for someone, they might ask the person for advice simply as a sign that they respect, trust and value their judgement. even if they don’t plan on taking it LMFAO 

— people with mars in a water sign can have this terrible habit of expecting other people to guess what they want. and then they get passive agressive when you don’t instinctively feel what it is they want... and when you ask them “do you want this?”, they go like “FINALLY. i thought you’d never get there”. stop it. i know that you want people to understand you in a way that transcends words, but you can’t expect people to read your mind and then get disappointed when they don’t, thinking “oh if they loved me that much then they would’ve known that i really want chipotle for dinner :(” GIRL WHAT. COMMUNICATE YOUR NEEDS  

[stxphxn-strange]

(no) rest for the innocent

summary: Tony wasn’t even on trial, but the jury found him guilty and he couldn’t disagree.

a/n: idk last night i was thinking about tony dealing w survivor’s guilt after endgame (and IW) so i threw this together, tw for mention of death and implied thoughts of suicide

“Good evening, Doctor.” FRIDAY’s warm, pleasant voice always reminded Stephen of home and cinnamon scented candles. “How was your trip?” 

“Too long for a meeting that could’ve been handled over email. Or through carrier pigeon, as Tony would say,” Stephen replied as his cloak sailed off down the hall. 

He washed his hands carefully, drying them on an Iron Man dish towel that Peter had given them as a joke wedding gift before putting the kettle on. 

As the water was boiling, he noticed a covered plate on the kitchen counter. There was an obnoxiously orange piece of paper in front of it, which made Stephen smile. Tony always left him little notes on purposefully electrifying paper, that way they were easy to find. 

The sorcerer’s smile only widened as he read the note. 

Steph— 

I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I decided to make you dinner anyway. But not because I’m missing you and wanted to surprise you, I just accidentally cooked too much. You know how that happens sometimes and you just end up with an ungodly amount of chicken parm? Life’s funny like that. 

Anyway, I’m in the lab. I had some good ideas earlier and I wanted to start them while I still felt productive. Welcome home sweetheart, and if you go to bed before I do (because you probably will, you responsible asshole you), sweet dreams and goodnight. 

Love, Tones

PS— Orange you glad you met me? … don’t answer that, I just couldn’t help it and had to write that down. 

Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “Fri, will you tell Tony that even though he’s not funny, I’m very glad I met him?” 

FRIDAY was quiet for a few moments before responding. “Boss says, quote, ‘fuck you Gandalf, I’m hilarious,’ unquote.” 

Stephen smiled, heating up his meal before sitting down to eat. He flipped through a magazine while he ate, FRIDAY turning on some soft jazz music as background noise until Stephen cleaned up and left the kitchen. After a refreshing shower, the sorcerer found himself in his most comfortable pjs and slippers as he walked through the house. Stephen wasn’t sure if he was going to bed yet, but he wanted to see Tony (and maybe he wanted a kiss or two or even three). 

The music in the lab automatically lowered when Stephen shut the door behind him, and Tony looked up with an expression that could only be described as tired. 

Actually, he looked exhausted. Weary. Barely holding himself together. Stephen wasn’t a thesaurus, but very concerned about his husband. 

Tony was trying to smile, but he seemed too exhausted to do that and just gave up, not saying anything as Stephen sat beside him. 

“Hi.” Stephen leaned over and softly kissed his husband’s temple. “Thanks for cooking for me, you didn’t have to.” 

Tony shrugged. “I had a lot of energy earlier, and I accidentally cooked way too much. Maybe it was intentional, you know I’d take any excuse to go out of my way for you.” 

His words said one thing, but his tone betrayed him. His voice was brittle, hard, and almost staticky. Stephen thought he sounded like a rusted hinge that was trying not to cry out for repairs… or maybe that analogy only made sense given where they were. 

Stephen kissed him again as Tony sat back at his desk, closing his well-used sketchbook. “You alright?” 

“Yeah. Tired I guess.” Tony sounded as unconvinced as Stephen felt. 

“Come to bed with me,” Stephen offered. “I’ll bore you to sleep by telling you about the meeting.” 

Tony laughed hollowly. “That bad?” 

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it was a waste of time. Even Wong was bored, and he watches the Antiques Roadshow remake for fun,” Stephen replied. He yawned and leaned against Tony’s side. 

“I see what you’re doing,” Tony murmured, trying to be lighthearted. He was just feeling some kind of way right now, he felt serious and was so endeared by his husband that it hurt. 

“What am I doing?” Stephen asked, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Being cute and sweet so I’ll go to bed and let you be the big spoon,” Tony accused. “And maybe I just really fucking need a hug, but… it’s working.” 

Stephen shifted and pulled Tony into his arms, holding the mechanic close as he went lax. 

“My Boss Is Singing Closing Time Protocol please, Fri,” Tony mumbled. 

“Goodnight Boss, goodnight Doctor,” the AI replied, beginning to run the lab’s standard closing protocol. 

“Portal?” Stephen asked. Tony was getting better with going through portals, but some days were harder than others. Stephen didn’t know what tonight would be like and opted to ask, selfishly wanting to make sure Tony got some rest as soon as possible. 

He was so out of it by that point that Stephen wasn’t sure if Tony registered the question, but he nodded slowly and trusted Stephen to lead him through it and into their bed. 

Despite “resembling a sloth clinging to a tree bough,” (Tony’s words) Stephen was intuitive and knew when not to hug Tony. Even when he was asleep, if Tony woke up thrashing or fighting against something in a dream, Stephen let him go. 

Tonight was a bit different. Stephen wasn’t brought to the edge of reality by Tony thrashing in their bed or accidentally tangling himself in their sheets, so he assumed everything was fine. That was until the sorcerer hugged his husband closer, still mostly asleep and just following his instinct, and Tony outright begged Stephen to let go of him. He wasn’t quite awake, but Stephen backed off immediately and heard Tony trip over his own feet as he left the room. The sorcerer fell asleep again after that, trying to stop the sound of Tony’s broken plea from cementing itself in his memory. When Tony climbed back into bed some time later, Stephen was stirring a little bit more. Tony hid his face in Stephen’s collarbone and said nothing, his breathing still slightly erratic. 

“Sorry if I woke you up,” he mumbled. 

“Don’ be,” Stephen replied, his voice unsure whether or not to wake up. 

“Will you hold me again?” Tony asked pleadingly, his voice almost imperceptible. 

Stephen wordlessly obliged, kissing the top of his head. “Whatever’s bothering you… you can talk to me about it. When you’re ready. And you don’t have to, but I’m here for you.” 

Tony nodded. “It feels like too much right now. What I’m thinking about, I mean. I need time to process, I guess.” 

“Okay,” Stephen said simply. “But I’m here for you whenever.”

“I know. I love you,” Tony replied. 

Stephen began to trace soothing patterns on Tony’s back. “Love you Tones.” 

++++

Tony didn’t seem any more rested the next day, but his confident Tony Stark™ pose seemed natural. He’d easily be able to fool people who didn’t know him as well as his family did. So it was a “fake it until you make it” kind of day, and Tony’s energy was on a strict schedule. There was only so much he could take today, and if his teammates wanted to call him selfish then that was their choice. 

It would just go in one ear and out the other, especially this late in the day and after brutal team training. Tony was close to skipping the meeting, but a cutting remark in the hallway made him change his mind. Why did they always act like it was breaking news when Tony needed to step back from something anyway? He was just as human as anyone else, and the world was happy to throw responsibilities on his unenhanced, steady shoulders just because he was a natural caretaker. 

The arguments about Tony’s quiet, withdrawn demeanor started two minutes into the meeting. Stephen was ready to defend his husband as soon as they got to the conference room, Tony collapsing into a chair and leaning his head against the cool metal of the table. 

He didn’t want to talk today, and Stephen didn’t want him to. 

“It’s not nap time, Stark.” There was a small hint of fondness in Natasha’s cold, clipped voice. 

Tony was already regretting his decision to show up, wishing he hadn’t told Stephen again and again that he was fine. He wasn’t, and they both knew it. Everyone knew it, but Tony knew better than to advocate for himself in front of his… colleagues. 

“I don’t even remember what we’re meeting about,” Tony muttered, looking up enough to address whoever was talking to him. 

Rhodey took a seat beside Tony, encouragingly patting his back. “You good?” 

“I’m fine, Honeybear,” Tony replied. He was sitting between his two favorite people, and that helped him feel a little more grounded. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Someone scoffed. “I don’t think anyone’s slept right in months. And don’t say you haven’t slept in years, Stark. We don’t need a story about how everything you’ve ever done has led to years of sleepless nights. We know already. Put it in a book or something and make the team more money so I can have better arrows.” 

Stephen was two seconds away from dropping the archer into the Dark Dimension, or flipping a table. He wasn’t sure how to handle the man yet, still taken aback by the rudeness and stupidity of his comment. “Barton, what the fuck—” 

“Steph, don’t bother with him,” Tony said. He stood up, forcing his tiredness into a corner and giving his coworkers a confident glare. “Pardon me for giving it my all and being a bit tired as a result. Now I’m going to get an ice pack for my shoulder and maybe a cup of coffee. Does anyone want anything?” 

“I’ll take a—”

“Get it yourself, you know where the kitchen is.” 

For dramatic effect (and moral support), the cloak landed on Tony’s shoulders and billowed out as he left the room. He returned with the aforementioned ice and coffee, and a mug of tea for Stephen. 

“You didn’t have to do that sweetheart, but thank you,” Stephen said appreciatively. 

“That’s why I wanted to,” Tony replied. He relaxed a little into his chair, starting to believe he could get through the meeting. 

Then, like clockwork, Clint opened his mouth to complain. 

“Why did you bring him tea and nothing for the rest of us?” He whined. 

“Doesn’t Tony do enough for you?” Stephen asked, innocently taking a sip of his tea. It was his afternoon green tea, made exactly the way he liked it. 

Tony was always so sweet and attentive with his loved ones, it warmed Stephen’s heart. The sorcerer stifled a laugh as Rhodey poured half of Tony’s coffee into his own empty mug. 

“Thank you,” the colonel said impishly. “Consider the roommate tax paid for this month.” 

Tony tried to smile at the old inside joke, but Stephen noticed that it fell flat. 

“Are we done with the interruptions? We need to talk about what’s out there. We don’t know if Thanos is the exception or the rule, and—”

Tony stopped listening. Clint’s snootiness was doing his head in, but the idea of another threat, another thing, another colossus he’d have to conquer and survive if his luck had anything to say about it… that was the breaking point. 

Tony didn’t have a good relationship with luck. He didn’t really believe in it, but apparently it believed in him. Because Tony was lucky. It was true that he was lucky in meeting his husband, his friends, and his family, but this was a different kind of luck. Tony was intelligent and skilled, shrewd and savvy, and there was virtually nothing he couldn’t do or solve, except for one thing. 

He was constantly lucky, constantly cheating death. 

And he didn’t realize that he was hyperventilating, didn’t recall dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t recall that he’d just walked out in the middle of the meeting after a minute, didn’t realize that he was home when he opened his eyes. 

Tony was home, in his spot on the couch in Stephen’s library. Stephen was sitting beside him, quietly watching a documentary or something like that. Tony was laying down, his head in Stephen’s lap with the cloak draped over him like a blanket. The crimson fabric continued to cling to him as he sat up, further proving Tony’s point that Levi liked him best, but he wasn’t in the mood to banter now. He just appreciated the support and the warmth of his sorcerer and their shared, sentient blanket.

With some hesitancy, Tony leaned over and rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. They locked eyes for a minute, Tony’s gaze deliriously bright and vacant. 

Stephen didn’t know what to say or do to make the man trembling in his arms feel better, but started by hugging him closer and softly stroking up and down his spine. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, lowering his head and hiding against Stephen’s chest. 

“No apologies,” Stephen reminded him. “I don’t want or need them, and you don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“I have to give a good reason,” Tony said, his voice beginning to shake. “Everything I do needs a reason.” 

“Why? Says who?” Stephen asked. He was more thinking aloud, half expecting Tony to leave the question unanswered. 

For a while, he did. He just sat, furiously trying to blink back tears and gather his thoughts as Stephen held him protectively. 

“Sometimes I think about… things,” Tony began vaguely. “And people. And places. I guess I just like nouns.” 

At this point, he didn’t even know if he was trying to deflect or just tell a joke, but his attempt at humor fell flat. He tried to force a laugh, but halfway through it turned into a painful sob. He cried harder with each breath, ignoring the ache in his chest. Tony barely listened when Stephen encouraged him to breathe, but eventually he gave into his exhaustion and listened to his lungs. 

His stupid lungs, which apparently were just as stubborn as his brain. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Tony whispered. “I shouldn’t have survived Afghanistan, New York, Sokovia, Siberia, or Titan. I can’t keep cheating death, Stephen. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be lucky and survive when the damage I’ve caused, the damage I claim full responsibility for, has taken so many lives. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed for me.” 

Stephen pressed a soft kiss to his hair, feeling Tony’s guit and fatigue as if it was his own. 

“I don’t want to do this,” Tony repeated. “I’m probably just spiraling or being needlessly selfish, but  I… I don’t know.” 

“You’re taking on too much responsibility where you don’t need to,” Stephen said. “I know that’s easy for me to just say from the outside, but you aren’t the only Avenger. It’s about time the team, if you can even call them that, takes accountability for their actions and stops bulldozing you with their problems. You aren’t selfish, Tones. You’re tired and overworked, and you deserve a break. You deserve to breathe, to just exist without feeling like you have to look over your shoulder or justify your every step.” 

“I don’t think I know how to even do that anymore,” Tony replied. “And I don’t deserve it.” 

“You do,” Stephen argued. “And rest assured I’ll keep telling you that. And I’ll keep telling you how much I love you, because I really do.” 

Tony smiled sadly, trying to press himself closer to Stephen if that was even possible. “I love you too.” 

He was starting to settle down, soothed by a flurry of soft kisses in his hair and the gentle brushes up and down his spine, when FRIDAY quietly spoke up. She almost sounded remorseful. 

“Mister Parker is requesting one or both of you in the lab, whenever it’s convenient,” she began. “And he’s asked me to assure you that it’s nothing major.” 

Tony sighed, sitting up again. “I’ll investigate.” 

Stephen shook his head. “No, let me. I’ll tell Peter that you’re resting, and he’ll understand.” 

“I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” Tony whispered. 

“He would never think that. You know how he gets about making sure you take care of yourself, and Peter knows with certainty that you care about him. Our son is much more mature than the Avengers,” Stephen replied. 

“I still feel bad,” Tony said. 

“I know. I can promise him Thai food if that’ll make you feel better?” Stephen suggested, half jokingly. 

“It actually would,” Tony admitted. “FRIDAY, will you schedule a Thai food delivery for 6:30pm please?” 

“Scheduled,” she replied simpy. She still sounded apologetic for disturbing them right as Tony was falling asleep, but maybe Stephen imagined that. 

The sorcerer stood up gracefully, covering Tony with another blanket as the cloak wrapped a bit tighter around him. “Look after yourself and relax, or get some sleep. No one’s expecting anything from you right now Tones, alright? I love you.” 

Tony nodded, a little smile on his face as Stephen kissed him again. “Love you.” 

He really wanted to sleep. He actually put effort into falling asleep, which was something he never thought he’d do, and of course sleep didn’t come easily. Sleep never came easily, but the memories did. It was all too easy for Tony to get caught in a thought stream, whether he was planning a surprise, inventing, or remembering unpleasantries. Today he was overwhelmed by guilt, readily convincing himself that he was a selfish failure like Howard Stark and his teammates liked to say. It was too easy to get lost in their ire and wanting to please everyone, and Tony had given up so much of his agency just to try and make other people happy. 

It was exhausting, and he didn’t even feel like he’d succeeded at that. 

The mechanic started tearing up again as he continued to think in a circular pattern, faintly aware of the Cloak trying to comfort him. It was a sweet, welcome gesture, and Tony let it happen and let himself cry. He was still laying there in tears when Stephen came back in half an hour later.

“Pete says he hopes you feel better,” Stephen said, returning to his spot and pulling Tony close. “And I told him to just go ahead and eat whenever he’s hungry, or when the food gets here.” 

Tony just nodded, feeling relieved and supported in Stephen’s arms again. He nodded again, as if trying to shake the unending self-deprecating thoughts from his head, before saying anything. “Sounds good.”

tags: @salty-ironstrange-shipper @stark-strange-love2 @chocopiggy @katninjagirl97 @kitkatfat15 @taruyison @funkylittlebidiot

[yeojaa]

someone’s someone, i.

read part two!  inspired by today’s weverse post (because omg???) and set in the angels & airwaves universe because these idiots are so special to me.  a second part to this drabble will be forthcoming and it’ll be...  even cuter?  idk.  

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  nothing inappropriate.  just a lot of sweetness and silliness.  wc.  1.1k.

JINNY’S APARTMENT Saturday, December 3, 2020.  12 AM. 

 You’re laughing at him.  He’s really not sure why - only knows that you are from across the room with a towel wrapped snug around your body and your phone in your hand. 

“W-what’s so funny?”  The words round on their way out, tripping over themselves with the appearance of his occasional stutter.  After a long day, he’s more tired than he expects.  Less refined and more loosely-limbed - your favourite version of him.  

(You remind him of it constantly, passing reassurances he never really realizes he needs.)

With your dark hair in a loose twist at your neck and your feet bare, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more beautiful.  That is, until he’s on the receiving end of that stupid blinding smile of yours, singular dimple drawing his own forth.  His favourite version of you.

You’re like mirror images - lovesick idiots who can’t take their eyes off each other. 

“Taking selfies in my bed?  Really?”

Jungkook blinks, gapes, tries to formulate an appropriate response.  He settles for honesty, long fingers sweeping through his grown out fringe to push the strands behind his silver-lined ear.  “You have good lighting.”

You laugh again - he never gets sick of it - and he watches as you cross to your closet, tossing your phone at him along the way.  You’ve got terrible aim somehow, despite the many hours you log on the first-person shooter you both love.  The glossy black iPhone narrowly misses his face, bouncing off the padded headboard and onto your side of the bed. 

“You look cute when you’re in selfie mode.”  It’s full of teasing yet wrapped up nicely and topped with a big red bow.  

His face stares back at him from your screen.  

“Okay, creep!”  He doesn’t mean it and you don’t really care, though he gasps like he does and you throw a pair of bacon and egg patterned socks at him. 

“You can take selfies but I can’t take photos of you taking selfies?”

It’s like the last brain cell shared between the two of you has gone out the proverbial window, thrown from the room by the ridiculous nature of your conversation.  Neither of you mind.  This is how you were - had been for the last year. 

He wouldn’t trade it for a single thing. 

“Are you sure you don’t secretly work for Dis—”  The ceiling is an understanding audience member, meeting his stare until he swivels it to you - and nearly forgets what he was saying. 

It’s hard for him to form any sort of articulate thought when his girlfriend’s standing six feet away wearing only his favourite pair of underwear:  high-cut plain black cotton.  Simple and yet so perfect. 

“Work for who?”  You echo, turning to him with an inquisitive raise of your brow and a smile that reads wicked. 

“Huh?”  It’s not uncommon that you reduce him to single syllables.  It’s the byproduct of being stupidly head over heels in love, probably. 

“Who do I work for, JK?”

“Me?”  Now he’s just spewing nonsense, answering before he’s even given proper thought to the question.  An overeager puppy who only knows treats come from sitting so he does it often and without thought. 

Wait, did that make him Pavlov’s dog? 

“I work for you?” 

You’re a striking figure, dressed in spirals of ink and the sweetest smile.  His heart skips a beat - a little one-two tap - when you draw close enough for him to reach for you.

“You could.”  Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying right now.  Just feels the need to speak, to coax you closer whether by words or hands or any other method under the sun. 

“I’m good,”  you return with sugar on your tongue and hearts in your eyes. 

“Okay,”  he answers, probably a little dumbly.  He’s suddenly far too interested in how you feel in his arms, your knees slotting wide on either side of his hips.  You’re terribly soft and still shower-warm, radiating heat all the way through his black tee shirt and worn grey sweats.  Broad palms traverse the shape of your bare waist before settling into their preferred spot with fingers interlaced.  He holds you easily, comfortably, like he wouldn’t rather be anywhere in the world. 

You unfurl your hands from around his shoulders, simultaneously pushing him back and seizing his discarded phone from beside yours.  “Let me take one.”

“Take one?”

The exasperation is exaggerated, fitted into the conversation by a gentle palm against his chest.  His heart beats steadily beneath your palm - in sync with yours in a way that makes you bubble with pride.  “A photo!” 

“Okay,”  he relents easily, sinking into the pillow that cradles his head.  He peers up at you with those big doe eyes of his, galaxies caught in the unnerving darkness of his pupils and the pretty depths of his irises.  He’s so utterly handsome you can’t help but take a few long moments to appreciate the angle of his nose, how the freckle right beneath his soft bottom lip winks up at you when he speaks.  The attention isn’t anything new but it’s a little unnerving;  a shadow of shyness passes, drowning out the sun in his smile.  “What?”

“I love you.”  It’s not the first time you’ve said it, nor is it the last (he hopes).  Jungkook still folds it up and tucks it into the space behind his ribs for safekeeping. 

“I love you, too.”  He’s grinning when he says it and you snap the photo simultaneously, catching him off guard with a proud smirk.  He’s heartbreakingly adorable, bunny-smiling and relaxed against the frame of grey sheets.  You hum a noise of approval, shifting above him;  his thumbs rub soothing circles over your hip bones as he waits patiently. 

“You look good.”  

“Post it.” 

“Post it?” 

“Did I stutter?”

You have half the mind to remind him how bad it sometimes gets, but you don’t.  “You post it.”

The phone is back in his hands, digits tapping over the surface as he does exactly that.  “There.”  It comes with a great flourish - posted to Weverse with a line of purple hearts.  “Lazy bones,”  he grumbles, shooting you a look as he drops his phone and takes up something far more important in his hands - namely, your face, so he can kiss you all over your cheeks. 

He does it sweetly, repeatedly, until you’re swatting at his wrists and demanding he stop.  He only does because his phone starts blowing up, a barrage of notifications lighting up the screen.

If only either of you had noticed the purple in the posted photo, tips of your fingers just barely peeking into the frame. 

His eyes meet yours - wide and alarmed and somehow, filled with amusement. 

The same word in two voices and then all at once, colliding laughter.  “Oops?”

[thistangledbrain]

I think I’m going to add Day 28 a day early, because I just finished it. This one took me 3 days to write...I had to keep putting it down. I think because meltdowns are our strongest reminders that we are NOT like other people, and that can be hard to accept sometimes, especially when we’re trying so hard to blend in or go along. Also, meltdowns are when we are in a raw, illogical space - which is highly unsavory, to put it mildly. We are vulnerable. Naked. Stuck. Entirely in fight or flight mode - or both. For as baffling and upsetting as you find it to be - trust me, we aren’t having a good time, either.

*takes a deep breath*

Ok, here goes.

Day 28

“Dealing with meltdowns”

Well, this one’s fun. (sarcasm)

I’m glad I got a few days ahead, because this one is hard to think about, so I keep putting it down and then coming back to it. I asked my youngest some questions, but he didn’t want to talk about it, either.

We hate meltdowns. It feels like the whole world is ending/everything is crashing down at once. I don’t CARE if what triggered it was “small” - all the repressed stuff we’ve been trying to squash comes crashing in like the fuckin Kool-Aid Man through a half open door.

But, I’ll start with how you can help.

First and foremost: DO NOT TOUCH!!! NO! BAD NEUROTYPICAL!! NO TOUCH!! (One exception: if we’re trying to blindly bolt from our environment. STOP US.)

I know this is completely counterintuitive to typical human nature, especially with young children. You want to scoop them up and cuddle them and make them feel safe. Sorry, but you just did the opposite of that - you freaked us out even more, and your need to touch and comfort is entirely yours, in that moment. Let us come to you if we want physical comfort - when we do need that, we can be like clingy little monkeys (and if an Autie child clings to you during a meltdown, you *honor* that shit & throw all the loving calm energy you can out there for them - do not say anything or try and talk them out of it - just let them cling to you and cry. Literally - JUST be there). I will say, AFTER the meltdown, we will possibly need some reassurance and kindness, if you can manage it. We will sometimes allow holding when we don’t feel good, with our absolute closest humans, but generally we really want you to just be there but not touch, until we’re ready. Lots of us don’t really want you to leave altogether, at least not for long - even if it seems like we do.

If you want to help, start with keeping your energy (your “vibe”) as calm, gentle, and peaceful as possible. Try not to get frantic or frustrated. If we’re at home or in a familiar space, do things that make our space feel better - drop the blinds/make it dark, place our weighted blanket over us/find our stuffy if we have one, light a candle or burn sage/waft a favorite calming scent, like lavender. If you say anything, use a soft, gentle voice - try not to talk too much...but if you sing, that can be very soothing. Sing very softly - I don’t know why, but soft singing and rocking (if you can stay on key...sorry but it’s grating when the tune is off!) can go a long way towards calming. Things like this can head a total meltdown off or stop it in its tracks, sometimes. Or get us out into an environment that makes us happy (like a nature trail)...but if we’re past a 4 (I’ll explain in a moment), we might not be willing to.

If we’re in a school setting, get us out from under those GOD DAMNED FLUORESCENT LIGHTS...YOU might not pick up on their eye-and-head hurting flicker, but we can. They suck even when we’re in a GOOD mood. See if you can get us into a darker room, or at least one without those &$@!;!! lights. Small things like bright lights, or sounds that usually only cause mild annoyance can become HUGE - for example, my dogs. In my best moments, the sound of them licking themselves will set my teeth on edge - if I’m trying to come out of a meltdown, those sounds - or almost any sounds, really, except white noise stuff - are infuriating. I hate to say that, but 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s just true. All your sensory shit is dialed to 11 and someone broke the knob off - there is NO “just deal with” whatever, at that point. We aren’t dealing with SHIT right then, so removal to a quiet spot is pretty damn important.

Try to distract or divert us before we’re over a 4 on a 1-10 scale, though, and absolutely before we start looping (the suggestions so far are for when the meltdown is in/almost in full swing - and I’m only speaking for older auties and into adulthood, here, though most of this stuff helps littles, too).

Let me explain “escalation scale” and “looping” - with the help of my husband, who recognizes patterns of escalation as well (in us, and in dogs ☺️). “Looping” is his word. It means no matter what you say, we keep looping back to what’s got us upset/how much we hate ourselves right then/all the bad feelings/past hurts that are piling on to the current problem. You’ll pull us out of it for a second, but then we loop right back to it. Ideally, you want to intervene before we get to the looping, which is about a 7+ on the escalation scale. Once we’re at a 7 and above....we’re consumed by it, and it gets much harder to diffuse. Think of the 1-10 scale like this: 1 is calm, 10 is completely nuclear - above a 7, almost nothing will distract us, almost nothing will divert us except bodily removal from the situation/environment & then leaving us the fuck alone (maybe figuratively but not literally - it depends on your Autie) for a while until we exhaust ourselves one way or another. If you can intervene and remove/distract right around a level 4 - which is right when you start to notice someone is getting quite agitated, you’ve got a good chance of heading the meltdown off at the pass. But if we’re already looping - repeating phrases over and over, looping back to our most upsetting feelings no matter what you say or do, sometimes while rocking or banging, you’re way too late. Now we have to ride it out together...as safely as we can manage. Now you need to make things dark, private, and as calming as you can, if possible. Or just get us the fuck out of the situation that set us off. That helps, too...obviously. I’ll tee up a possible scenario: you’re at an amusement park with your Autie. WHOA stimulation, right? You’re all having a fab time, but suddenly your Autie starts to cry or get angry or otherwise exhibit “I am SUPER OVERWHELMED” energy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It’s just a lot to process, even when all the things are pretty fun. So, find a quiet place in a park like area to chill. Grab food from a stand - or go back out to your car and sit and eat a packed lunch or have some snacks. Don’t make a big fucking deal about it, either. Just “oh okay, I think now’s a good time for a quiet break”. Keep in mind all autistics are living in a sensory rich environment, and it can get mega overwhelming sometimes. It’s not always bad shit that sets us off.

I’ve mentioned in prior posts how it can feel like someone else is driving the car (controlling the emotions), while we sit in the back seat and scream and hit and try to get them to stop the fucking car and let us out...it’s in these moments that I TOTALLY understand how doctors got autism and schizophrenia mixed up, in years past. At least, that ripping in half is what my youngest son and I feel. YOU’RE frustrated with us right then? BRUH. WE are so fucking pissed and frustrated and upset that we can’t stop the car, too. You’re not helping if we know you are frustrated, either - that’s why I mention keeping your “vibe” as level and gentle and “no biggie” as possible.

I have some tips for head bangers and stuff, that I won’t include in this post but I’m happy to tell you what I’ve done/what can work.

Basically? “Dealing with” meltdowns is just....TRY SHIT. If you’re an Autie trying to manage your own, play around with what helps you calm down. It could be a brisk walk away from anything human, time under your weighted blanket, time in a dark warm shower or tub (idk about you, but in this house - water soothes nearly anything, most of the time), holding your pet, screaming all the cuss words you know into the void lol ....and the same methods might not work all the time (I was “feeling unsubstantiated feelings” the other day, and got into the shower before they overwhelmed me - a usual go to - but this time, the water felt disgusting, being wet just made it all worse. It surprised even me, but you gotta roll with it & try something else). But try as hard as you can to do something that will soothe you. Or find a safe place to let it all out, without hurting yourself. Pro tip, though: do not add alcohol. It not only takes away all the barriers you’ve probably put up to keep from going completely off the deep end, but it also magnifies all the bad feelings. I am, however, a big fan now of smoking a little green. I started trying that about 3 years ago and oh my god where has this been my whole adult life. I can’t take antidepressants or even most anxiety meds...but I can smoke. I use carefully chosen calming and pain relieving indica strains - sativa can sometimes make me feel more anxious. (YMMV)

If you’re the Emotional Support Human™️ of a melting down Autie, the same applies. Just try stuff. Trust me you will know if said Autie finds your efforts upsetting. It’s ok to want to talk to us about it afterwards, in a constructive way. Once we’ve calmed down, we know you’re trying to help. We’re raw and exhausted immediately after a meltdown though (meltdowns usually lead to shutdowns), so give us a little time, maybe. Or maybe not - maybe your Autie will be in a more communicative frame of mind, since it’s fresh. You won’t know unless you ask, maybe like “could we talk about this, or would you like some time to be quiet?” (Again - gentle tone and energy is important.)

Meltdowns are hard for me to write about because these days, they’re super rare, but when they happen, they’re ...well, brutal. Like really, really bad. I had one a few years ago that I think terrified my husband. We were in the car. I was getting so upset (screaming, beating my fists and probably thrashing a little) that he had to stop the car. Luckily we were in the boonies, but...not long after he stopped the car, I attempted to bolt. I felt trapped in between his efforts to soothe and the small confines of the car, and just wanted to bolt. Run. Far away. There was ZERO thought of personal safety at that point. His efforts to contain me were met with violence. I will be ashamed of that for the rest of my life - I don’t even have words for what an amazing human my husband is, and the LAST thing my non-melting-down brain wants, is to hurt him. But all I could think about was doing whatever needed to be done to escape this hell I was in. God. Just writing about it hurts, and I feel fresh shame. I’m telling you all this, so that you understand that *in that moment*, we are a cornered and overwhelmed animal, who wants to just bite bite bite or run away (fight/flight). The things we usually cling to - logic and reason - don’t exist right then. Nothing is logical - which actually adds to our upset.

There may be a time when your Autie feels like this too - and that’s one time where you DO need to intervene even if we don’t like it/hate it/get furious with you for it. If we are trying to hurt ourselves or run, do what you need to to not allow that. I truly believe this is how many young Autie kids get lost - we were upset and we just bolted blindly. We don’t react well to you stopping us....but it’s necessary.

There’s a moment in the Disney movie “Soul”, where 22 becomes a lost soul. Her little bright blue body is engulfed by swirling blackness, and inside that blackness is every bad or negative thing that’s ever been said to her. She starts looping - “I’m not good enough”, “I have no purpose”, over and over and over. This is what a meltdown feels like. In the movie, her mentor quietly hands her a small token reminder that starts to make the blackness melt away - it’s not the token that “society” thinks she should have, it’s a personal one. Shouting at her, blah blahblah talking, trying to reason with her makes her hiss and run away - but *quietly* handing her a tactile object that means something to her, brings her back to the present, and is what breaks the looping.

Here’s the clip of when he breaks through her meltdown. I hope it explains things in a way I’m struggling to. I’ll end with that...if the subtitles distract you, I apologize, I can’t find a “clean clip”.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nmapZFDUkBk&t=41s

[its-love-u-asshole]

Count on Me [fic]

Pairings: Kawanishi Taichi/Tendou Satori 

Summary: Taichi thinks about his life and his struggles, and how his best friend never fails to be there for him every step of the way. It's no wonder they fit together so perfectly.

Rating: T

Note: Hello again! This was my piece for the @middleblockerzine <3 It was an honor to be involved in this project, and I love being able to write rarepairs every once in a while! Enjoy! 

Read on AO3!

Taichi doesn't have a bad temper.

Quite the opposite actually. He considers himself fairly neutral when it comes to most situations. Sometimes he can get annoyed at small things, like obnoxious laughs and stupid drivers, but he's the last person to snap or blow up at someone for no reason.

He prides himself on it, can't help it.

Downstairs he hears his mother yell at his dad, and there's a loud, deliberate crash.

Another broken dish, he supposes. He'll be told to clean it up later, so he guesses he'll find out then.

Taichi frowns at the ceiling of his bedroom, though it's not a drastic change in his expression. He's always frowning. Always glaring. Or, that's what everyone says about him.

"Kawanishi-kun is so cute! But he looks so mean...I don't know if I should ask him for his notes..."

"What's wrong with you huh? You always look like you're having a shit day man!"

"Kawanishi-san, you should tell your son Taichi he needs to smile more."

"Is he even happy he scored that point? What a prick..."

Yeah. That's just how it goes.

Again though, Taichi doesn't consider himself an angry person, not by a long shot.

The yells from downstairs get louder, and Taichi reaches over to his nightstand with a sigh, ready to block out the vicious noise with the playlist Tendou had sent him earlier that day.

The music is soothing, the lyrics just ridiculous enough to remind Taichi that yes, Tendou totally made this himself. Taichi laughs, twirling his headphone cord in his fingers as the notes loosen the tension in his body.

But his dilemma won't leave him alone.

'Resting bitch face' would be putting it lightly, he thinks. He knows he looks mean okay? He's seen the family reunion and birthday party pictures, he doesn't need to be reminded that he has an issue.

Damn.

Taichi pouts, turning onto his side.

It's not his fault his face looks so pissed all the time. He's not aware of it 24/7, and it's not something he can up and change right off the bat.

And he figures at the end of the day, he doesn't care. People can judge him all they want, he knows who he is on the inside.

In fact, now that he thinks about it, Taichi loathes bad tempered people. They get too worked up and bring others down (not to mention how sore their throats must be from all that damn yelling), and it's not a personality trait which works well in Taichi's life. In volleyball. Which really, might as well been a synonym for Taichi's whole existence.

The thought eases his nerves a little more, as does the quick text from Tendou about the movie they're going to see next weekend.

He wonders if Tendou can sense it, when Taichi needs him.

Taichi smiles, and though he's not physically on the court at the moment with the other boy, he squirms in his bed, eager to change that.

Playing would sure help calm him down anyways, but it would also mean he'd have to go downstairs, so he passes on the thought.

He feels his phone vibrate again on his chest, and he picks it up eagerly like he always does.

For him, as embarrassing as it sounds, Tendou is his ideal person. The opposite of the spectrum. Where Taichi appears withdrawn and agitated on the outside, Tendou is boisterous and expressive in ways so grand, Taichi used to have a hard time telling truth from false. For a lot of people, the redhead is too much. Too eccentric, too noticeable, too everything. But Taichi has never been too anything in his life except too distant, no matter what he does to change it. Tendou is the first person to see and appreciate Taichi for things other than his bleak lack of expression, and as a result, Taichi really can't get enough of him.

They fit like that.

Taichi: sounds good, just tell me what I owe you for the ticket Satori: Taiiichiiii, what kind of commentary is that? That trailer was supposed to blow your mind!

Taichi rolls his eyes, but his fingers are already typing back. Normally, Tendou is right, like he usually is. Goddamn him.

Taichi should've responded more ecstatically, more upbeat. But well, it felt too fake right then.

Taichi: idk, it feels pretty blown Satori: .... Satori: you're frowning

Taichi's brow furrows at the suddenness, and at the same time, he hears his parents stomp down the hall through his headphones, the yells closer and louder.

Taichi: when am I not frowning?

The little bubble which tells him Tendou is typing makes Taichi weirdly anxious. It shouldn't since he's used to this. He's gotten over the panic which came with initially trading numbers with the other middle blocker. The worry of being interesting or entertaining enough...those fears are gone. The obnoxious butterflies are not, but Taichi has grown to expect those too.

He knows what to expect before he even reads Tendou's new messages, but it doesn't make the electricity travel up his body any less.

Because sometimes...sometimes Tendou just knows, and it makes Taichi's heart and lungs squeeze.

Satori: mmm Satori: I guess Satori: but you're frowning for real this time

The words lack punctuation because Tendou doesn't see the point in it, the slam of a door down the hall takes the place of a period just fine.

Taichi closes his eyes, and wills himself to relax his face, knowing it still looks as pissed and disgruntled as always. But if Tendou were there, he'd know it to be anything but.

In truth, maybe Taichi doesn't have a neutral personality at all. Maybe he's as emotional and impassioned as Tendou is, all his feelings swimming below a calm surface, and he's quietly bursting at the seams.

But rather than pour his heart out explicitly, he tells Tendou only what he needs to for the other to get it, and that's never been a lot.

Taichi: yeah, guess I am

Tendou sends him another playlist after about a minute of silence, and the songs on it are more soothing and positive this time around. Taichi smiles, big and bright, and no one can tell him he's not.

--

Taichi is eleven years old when he feels the rush of block for the first time, when his addiction starts for both the sport he loves, and the boy he blocks beside.

He jumps up on pure instinct, his feet aching and his forehead sweating from a long practice game in his gym class. He doesn't really know why he'd been trying so hard in the first place. Something had simply clicked in him at the start of the game, and when all his teammates began to move slower, when all the plays became careless, Taichi still put in one hundred percent of his effort.

The reward for this is a high he'd never get tired of, a drug administered with a fast beating heart and a swift leap off the ground.

The sting against his arms feels hard enough to leave welts, but it takes his breath away to see the ball bounce off his forearms, hitting his opponent's side of the court with a deafening slam.

Completely shut out.

The realization travels up his spine and along his nerves, and nothing is the same after that.

His arms are red and burning, and no one else seems nearly as into the game as he is, but the moment is everything to him, and he knows he could play volleyball forever and a day.

He's not the only one.

"Whoa, how did you know where the ball was going?"

Taichi, who is tasked with helping put the net away once the final point is scored, jumps at the voice. He spins around, and his shock doubles.

The boy in front of him is a little shorter than him, but he stands out more than anyone Taichi has ever seen. His eyes are too wide and searching to look natural on his chubby face, his arms long and hanging at his sides.

Taichi is young, so he admits it to himself, the guy looks weird. Not only that, but Taichi knows exactly who he is, because how could he not? Shouts and whispers of the school's resident freak or monster are hard to miss, no matter how much Taichi doesn't care.

Still, he's wary, because he knows nothing about the redhead in front of him, and whether or not he deserves those cruel nicknames in the first place.

But Taichi also can't resist talking about volleyball, and anyone willing to indulge him for once instead of avoiding him like the plague are already off to a good start in his book.

"The setter kept favoring his best friend for the spikes, so it was easy to guess he'd toss to him for the last point," Taichi says, picking up stray balls around the court. He's being followed, but the redhead's hovering isn't bothersome.

In fact, Taichi welcomes the company, no matter how strange.

He can see the skip in the redhead's step at the subject of volleyball, and Taichi can relate. His nerves are still on fire, and he bites his lip, wishing the game didn't have to end.

"Ah I see, I hadn't noticed, so I guessed wrong," the other says, and there's a shrill whine in his voice which makes Taichi actually laugh. Because yeah, he'd have been pissed too if he'd misjudged.

The redhead's eyes get wider, an impossible feat in Taichi's mind, and his laugh dies. Maybe I'm being awkward...shit...

There's a brief, strained silence while Taichi continues cleaning, but his eyes won't leave the redhead's shocked expression. Taichi arches a brow, too afraid to ask the question on his mind.

The hell?

"You smiled," the other boy says, and the awe in his voice is enough to make the back of Taichi's neck burn.

Well, no one has said it that way before.

"Yeah I...I do that," Taichi replies, dumbly, and curses himself a second later, his face falling back into his natural scowl.

All of a sudden, the other boy is laughing so loud the rest of the gym is staring at them, and Taichi groans, because he can practically hear the new whispers going around.

Do you think that Kawanishi kid is friends with the freak?

It would make sense, they're both no fun to be around.

Yeah, sounds about right.

Taichi is coming to the age where he cares less and less though, far too used to being misconstrued for every single thing he does.

So he focuses back on the redhead, pouting to himself. "Hey, what's so funny?"

The other contains his giggles poorly, but Taichi can understand him well enough. "Nothing! Sorry sorry! I was surprised! I figured you couldn't smile, like a medical condition or something."

Taichi straightens like a rod, rigid and humiliated. It's nothing he's not accustomed too, but somehow it hurts in that moment, maybe because he'd been riding the high of the game. He knows he always looks unhappy, upset for some reason or another.

But...he doesn't like that he looks that way even while he's playing volleyball. Today is the first time he's ever played, and he loves it so much already.

Apparently, it doesn't show.

Taichi is ready to tell the other to buzz off and find his own private place to sulk until the school day is over, when the redhead continues.

"Everyone says you're never happy, so I wanted to see for myself, but you looked like you were on cloud nine scoring that last point, even with that frowny mug of yours," he says, and he's laughing again a second later, unperturbed by Taichi's stunned expression.

Taichi looks stupid. He knows he does, like a dear in the headlights, and his hands drop the ball he'd been holding as a foreign warmth envelops him.

I...looked happy?

The words don't really process right, but the emotions rage regardless. His emotions always do. That's the screwed up part.

Taichi is a real cry baby on the inside, little things make him happy every day, from his favorite songs to a good book. But no one notices, and nowadays he doesn't expect them to.

But today, someone did.

The other boy continues to babble in front of him, and Taichi can't object, doesn't want to. Like a soft blanket, the pleasant feeling in his veins continues throughout lunch as he sits near his new and unexpected friend. It persists when he gets home, and they text for the first time.

It even lasts until the week after, when they join a community volleyball club together.

For a long time, Taichi didn't know how to explain the feeling, but now he knows it simply comes with being around the other boy.

Of course, he learns this boy's name is Tendou Satori, and that his guesses are seldom wrong, but that with Taichi, Tendou never needs to guess.

--

He notices right away how Tendou is. Or, how he wants people to think he is.

So expressive. An open book, carefree, only hiding his intentions on the court.

They stick together throughout middle school, and as much as Taichi hates admitting it, they're practically glued at the hip.

Going to Shiratorizawa together is a dream of theirs, and they do whatever it takes to make it. He worries about his lack of expression hindering him from making the team despite his obvious skill, but Tendou has enough energy for the both of them (and probably about fifty more people), and his personality overshadows Taichi’s in the best way.

To say Taichi feels grateful would be an understatement.

“Geez Taichi, you’re practically vibrating, calm down,” Tendou says with a smirk as they walk home. It’s Taichi’s turn to host their after school “study” session, but he knows deep down they’ll just end up watching old volleyball matches and playing videogames.

Taichi snorts, because he really doubts he was vibrating. In fact, next to Tendou, he probably looks a little too stiff. The redhead hasn’t stopped skipping or jumping since they’d left the school. But Tendou has it right, as he usually does. Taichi is ecstatic, and he could climb the world’s tallest mountain right then if asked.

They jostle each other all the way home, proudly able to call themselves best friends and teammates now.

Of course, during practice, and really every other moment, Tendou shouts his excitement and smiles too wide. Taichi is used to this. Again, Tendou is vibrant and dynamic where Taichi resembles more of a statue.

Although Taichi likes his teammates, he can tell they haven’t completely warmed up to him yet. When everyone cheers aloud, Taichi simply stands there, same blank expression on his face while a storm rages in his chest.

It’s okay though. They’ll come around. That’s what Tendou thinks, and Taichi never has much reason to doubt him.

Well, in most things.

See, the thing about Tendou is that he only seems like an open book. If anything, Taichi comes to realize that he has more issues communicating than Taichi does. It might be hard to discern what Taichi actually feels from his face and actions, but when asked, he doesn’t have much trouble coming clean.

“You’re making me feel kind of left out.”

“I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night.”

“That playlist you gave me was amazing.”

It gets to the point where he makes Tendou blush on accident, and the redhead stutters and chokes on his words for the first time, complaining that Taichi is far too blunt for his own good. Taichi’s entire body heats up all the same, and the rest of their study session that day ends up veiled by some unknown tension.

So yeah, Taichi can express himself in his own ways. After all, words are really all he has.

But Tendou’s emotions never have an outlet. Taichi finds this out the first time Tendou gets openly bullied in middle school. The kids are punks and refuse to let him play a set with them, and Taichi sits out with him in defiance. If he can’t play with Tendou, it’s not worth it. Tendou is still all jokes, all smiles. His cunning guesses are spot on and eventually the other kids get tired of his commentary and leave the court free. Taichi is impressed with Tendou’s wit, his sheer confidence and ability to laugh off all the cruel insults.

But when they get home, he sees the walls crumble. Tendou is agitated and shaking, but he refuses to admit it, as if Taichi can’t tell. The redhead wipes his eyes one too many times, and Taichi can’t bear to pretend anymore. It takes over an hour to coax a confession out of Tendou, and when he does, the floodgates open. “It hurts…when they say shit that’s not true.”

The statement hits Taichi like bricks upon more bricks. And yeah, he can definitely relate. Taichi doesn’t really know how to cry anymore, but he feels his heart ache, and he only hopes Tendou realizes it.

Of course, he does. They get into the habit of comforting each other with soft hugs and subtle touches, when they both feel the familiar pain. When people whisper about Tendou, or criticize Taichi, or when Taichi’s parents scream too loud.

They’re together through it all.

Even now in high school, Tendou still struggles to tell Taichi when he’s upset, when he feels like crying. But Taichi notices, and it’s only fair that he does. Understanding each other goes both ways, and Taichi never hesitates to pull Tendou close when he needs it.

--

In the end though, they grow slowly, and Taichi prefers to not rush progress. His teammates can tell when he’s on fire, when he’s drunk off a good block, and he welcomes their high fives with a slight smile.

It’s the most he can manage, but it speaks volumes.

And naturally, Tendou makes his own progress too. After all, Taichi was always the blunt one, the upfront one, the one who initiated the tough conversations.

But now, staring blankly at Tendou behind the school gym, Taichi thinks he might’ve misjudged him a bit.

“I like you.”

It’s an oddly placed confession. Taichi had been worried throughout the whole practice that maybe he’d finally upset Tendou somehow, but now…

Wow, they’re both idiots.

Taichi stalls mid-step, letting the words wash over him. They hit him gently, but steal his breath all the same.

“I like you.” It echoes, over and over, like his head can’t get enough.

You…

Tendou bows a little, eyes fixed on the floor, and he’s biting his lip so hard he might break skin and— dammit, I told you to quit doing that.

It’s less annoying than usual though. Instead, Taichi feels like he might explode with joy, and that probably wouldn’t be romantic…having to scrape his remains off the walls. The messed-up thought is evidence enough of how he’s let Tendou influence him, and Taichi only feels happier at the observation.  He’s grinning. Absolutely grinning, like a madman.

A delicate mixture of shock, embarrassment, and familiarity wash over him, and naturally…

Ah, screw it. He should probably just say it huh?

But well, if Tendou is really trying to show how he’s grown, the least Taichi can do is show how he feels.

So he does.

Taichi grabs Tendou’s hand, pulling him into a hug which sends them both to the floor, and the redhead’s eyes widen even more than usual as he’s pulled down. Taichi, because he’s a loser with no knowledge of what he’s supposed to do or how to react, buries his face in his best friend’s neck, taking in the smell of cinnamon and something specifically Tendou.

The redhead coughs from the suddenness, but Taichi is too happy to care. His grin doesn’t go away. It makes sense too, how Tendou is the one who ultimately keeps the cursed expression on his face.

It makes Taichi laugh, along with Tendou’s stunned, blushing face as they pull apart. 

Taichi’s smile turns smug, and he bumps their heads together, and yup, Tendou looks like a fire truck now. Mission accomplished.

Taichi just laughs into the small space between them, unable to contain himself, and it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world.

“I like you too.”

Later, they find out that the whole team had been betting on when they’d get together, but Taichi is too overjoyed to plot his revenge yet.

Eventually, he thinks. Eventually.

--

When he’s done replaying all his favorite memories, Taichi knows his parents have gone to bed. The house is quiet, but there’s tension running through his body, and he has no plans of sleeping any time soon.

He’s waiting for someone after all, and they’ve never let him down before.

There’s a knock at his window, and Taichi takes out his earphones instantly. Tendou’s playlists are his favorite, but the redhead himself is much preferred.

Ugh, I’m getting cheesier. So be it.

Tendou’s smile on the other side of the window is soft, with just a hint of mischief present, and Taichi can’t help but mirror it as he unlatches the locks.

“Some midnight practice?” Tendou asks automatically, and Taichi is already grabbing his volleyball.

In fact, he’s already in his workout clothes, because he sort of saw this coming. But the predictability isn’t unwelcome, far from it. It’s just how they are. They grow together each day, following in each other’s steps and keeping track of every stumble.

This probably counts as a stumble, but it hardly feels like one, not with Tendou looking at him like that.

Taichi could let the emotions get to him, could pull Tendou inside and rant about his parents until they fall asleep, safe together.

But they had plenty of time for that, for now…

For now, he wanted to play the sport he loved with the boy he loved, and nothing was going to stop him.

He tugged on his tennis shoes excitedly, meeting Tendou at the window with a swift kiss. He let it warm his body, the pleasant chill travelling up his spine like it never failed to do.

He didn’t let Tendou chase after more kisses, like he always tried to. Again, plenty of time for that later. The redhead pouted, but matched Taichi’s grin, because he knew that just as well as Taichi did.

“Let’s go,” Taichi whispers, clutching Tendou’s hand, something which is like breathing to him. The touch is returned automatically, and with that, they disappear into the night, carefree.

Briefly, Taichi’s mind returns to his previous problem. His expression, or lack of one, isn’t something he can probably ever fix. It’ll be annoying yeah, and people will never stop whispering or talking about how upset he always looks.

But right now, he knows they’re wrong. His grin is bright enough to blind, and he feels so many things at once, more than he can truly comprehend.

So yeah, he doesn’t care. As long as his teammates know who he is on the inside, as long as Tendou can read him like an open book, Taichi knows he’ll never have to worry.

He has what he needs, and he’s sure to gain more. But in that moment, it’s more than enough for him.