#people shoot without thinking. without even considering the fact that these are people too‚ just ill ones

[blindbeta]

Exploring How Toph Beifong Could Be Played By A Blind Actress and Refuting Reasons Some People Believe She Couldn’t

[Image Description: Toph Beifong from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She is waving her hand in front of her face after joking that she spotted the great library, tricking the Gaang only to remind them that she is blind. She rides on Appa who is flying above a desert landscape. End I.D.]

The live-action adaptation of season 2 of Avatar: The Last Airbender is underway. This means people are discussing Toph again, much like they did during pre-production of season 1. I have seen and even participated in promoting the idea of Toph being portrayed by a blind actress. Similarly, I have come across push-back against the idea.

Instead of if Toph Should Be Portrayed by a Blind Actress, Let’s Focus on How She Could

(should and could are bolded for emphasis)

This post will address common misconceptions that serve as barriers to the idea of a blind actress portraying Toph.

A Few Notes Before We Start

These points come from posts on online forums, YouTube comments on videos related to the casting of Toph, and tumblr posts. No one will be specifically called out here, as while these points may be attributed to certain individuals online, they represent much wider views that are shared by many, even without malicious intent. These common misconceptions stem from unchecked ableism and general lack of information. Keep in mind that my intention is not to call out any individual person, as ableism is a widespread, collective problem. The reasons I refuted in this post showed up repeatedly and were not isolated opinions of one or two people.

1. No, it would not be too difficult to find an actress who is Asian, blind, and the right age

[Image Description: Toph as The Blind Bandit uses earthbending to create three pillars of rock that shoot at an angle from the ground and smash into her opponent, throwing him against the arena wall. End I.D.]

This point suggests that it is difficult to find candidates fitting Toph’s description. I suspect this is due to racism and ableism, in that a white and abled person is considered default and therefore believed to be more common, especially by Western studio standards. This is not truly the case. People of color and disabled people are auditioning, especially for the comparatively few roles that seek them out specifically, such as Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Blind Asian people exist. Some of these people are also actresses. Some have backgrounds in dance or martial arts, especially because many actors do similar activities to increase endurance and versatility. Finding a pre-teen or teenager to play Toph would not be as challenging as many people believe, especially those who already underestimate the amount of blind people in the world and their abilities.

Those who argue this point may be under the impression that a blind actress would be out of reach due to low numbers and lack of interest in auditioning. Blind people are auditioning. The reason you don’t see them on screen is because most of them are ignored in favor of abled actors. For example, in this video, Molly Burke discusses not being chosen to play a blind character whom she was told was based on her own life. The actress chosen to play the character was not blind. You can watch it here.

Additionally, Netflix has the ability to hold a widespread casting call. They are not a tiny studio doing productions in someone’s backyard. They have access to a wider pool of actresses than the average person might think, particularly if said person is not familiar with the resources big studios often have at their disposal.

In fact, Netflix is doing just that. Below is a link to their casting call, which encourages blind and low vision actresses to audition.

Link to casting call here with alt text.

2. Some people believe Toph isn’t really blind and therefore the actress who plays her needs to be able to see

[Image Description: Toph as The Blind Bandit using bending, with shots showing her hands and feet. As her bare foot slides sideways across the ground, the camera zooms out to show her sensing vibrations. The image turns greyscale, with circles of white vibrations emanating from around Toph’s body, where they expand and flow outward. End I.D.]

The rationale behind this is probably the same as it is for Daredevil, meaning some don’t consider Toph to be blind because of the way she uses her bending.

An argument could be made that Toph’s powers erase her blindness or that her powerful abilities make her less relatable to the average blind person. However, I suspect that many sighted people engaging with these discussions of Toph’s casting are not also concerned with questions of erasure or relatability. In discussions questioning her blindness, the evidence given mostly centers on Toph’s physical abilities rather than relatability to real blind people.

Her bending aside, Toph is certainly blind. She experiences ableism from her parents and general community. Blindness shaped her life in a lot of ways, even with her bending, which is also influenced by her disability.

We see Toph being guided while running on the airship, needing assistance while walking on ice, and struggling to travel in a desert. She uses her other senses, including hearing and tactile senses. She has limitations regarding how she is able to interact with an unaccommodating world, such as inaccessible reading and writing systems.

There are also lifestyle and cultural implications of blindness extending beyond the inability to see. Being blind is not only about what one can and cannot do, which is true of Toph’s experience as well. Blind people may have different values, experiences with family and friends, different senses of humor, or may place higher value on other sensory experiences compared to sighted peers.

Whether or not Toph is good blindness representation can be argued. However, she is still a blind character. Her blindness influences her whole life, even as she is more than her blindness at the same time. Her life as a blind person is about more than limitations and abilities. Reducing her, and any blind person, for that matter, to only these facets of her experience oversimplifies what it is like to be a blind person.

Claiming that she isn’t a blind character because of her ability to do x, y, and z can be incorrect for a lot of reasons.

Blind people are more than what we can do or what we produce. Our experiences are rich and varied. Our lives are inherently meaningful no matter our abilities or limitations. It is both ableist and inaccurate for sighted people to attempt to put us all into boxes.

Additionally, blindness is a spectrum. [Bolded for emphasis.] You can read about it at the following posts on my blog:

here

here

here

and here.

Here is a good list of legally blind YouTubers with various types of visual experiences.

According to various sources on the blindness spectrum, about 85% to 95% of blind people have some remaining vision:

93% according to RNIB

This Perkins School For the Blind fact sheet estimates about 90 to 95% of blind have some remaining vision

American Foundation for the Blind estimates about 15% of blind people are totally blind and discusses the spectrum of blindness here

The spectrum of blindness is important because our experiences become even more diverse when the spectrum is considered. This means that assumptions about what we can and cannot do become even harder for sighted folks to guess accurately.

This accuracy is important if sighted people are going to try to put limitations on blind people, which they have no business doing anyway. They are not the authority on what blind people can do, what we cannot do, or what is good for us. Only blind people can answer that for themselves.

Lastly, blind people are already used to navigating and interacting with their surroundings. They have had anywhere from months to a lifetime of experience, which would translate better to Toph’s ease with her blindness and confidence in her bending.

While an actor wearing contacts to obscure their vision might stumble around and have difficulty on set, someone who is actually blind could lend Toph’s character a much more relaxed, confident attitude in addition to possessing experience navigating in a way that works for her. She is used to being blind. Therefore, an actress who is also used to being blind brings a lot to the performance in terms of physicality, attitude, and the ability to focus on portraying the character, rather than simulating blindness.

Which leads me into the next point.

3. The idea that Toph doesn’t move like a blind person relies on stereotypes of blind people

[Image Description: A GIF from the episode “The Runaway”. Toph, Sokka, and Aang all con some con artists and cheer after their victory, Toph raising her arms high before snatching the prizes. They all run away. End I.D.]

There is no specific way of moving like a blind person. Like sighted people, the way blind people move may be influenced by many factors, such as level of vision, how long they have been blind, their mobility aid, navigation techniques, familiarity with their environment, level of confidence, feelings of safety, other disabilities, energy levels, cultural factors, and more.

While there are mannerisms that are recognizable to blind communities, there is no one way to move like a blind person. Just as there is no one way to look blind.

The ideas of “not moving like a blind person” or “not looking blind” come from stereotypes of blindness. In fact, these ideas can be so pervasive that blind people who don’t fit stereotypes may be accused of faking. I explore this subject here.

In this video, Sam from The Blind Life discusses the experience of performing blindness or being pressured to act more blind than he is. Link here. He explains while he has some vision, he uses his cane to indicate to others that he is blind. This is one of the main functions of a cane. Sam explains feeling pressure to adhere to certain stereotypes about blindness or risk being accused of faking.

Similarly, in this video linked here, Molly Burke discusses the stereotype that blind people’s eyes look noticeably different from sighted eyes. This includes the inaccurate belief that all blind people have cloudy eyes, blank eyes, eyes that are always closed, or eyes that simply must be covered in dark sunglasses to protect the sensibilities of sighted people. Molly explains that while blind people can certainly have these attributes, not all of us do. Molly laments that the phrase, “You don’t look blind,” is either used to invalidate her or to praise her for passing as a sighted person, which is ableist.

Just as blind people don’t look the same way, we don’t move the exact same ways either. That applies to Toph as well. For example, she prefers to keep her feet on solid ground for bending purposes, orientation, and possibly due to cultural factors valuing stability and connection to the earth.

4. The idea that accommodations would be impossible to provide is rooted in ableism

[Image description: A GIF of Toph and Zuko sitting beside each other on the floor at the Ember Island theatre episode. Toph punches Zuko’s arm. Metaphorically for the purposes of this post, she is punching ableist ideas that have nothing to do with Zuko. End I.D]

Here is a thread I shared in the early days of this blog, wherein the topics of blind actors and accommodations are discussed. The entire thread might also be helpful for this post, as I explore the same points, which shows how common these misconceptions are. While this may seem to be an isolated online disagreement, none of these arguments are new. That is why I believe this topic is important— these arguments about accommodations being too difficult or a burden on others also pop up in conversations about other workforces and other disabilities.

A blind character not being played by a blind actor is one thing. A blind person not being hired for a job they are qualified for due to resistance to providing accommodations is not so easy to ignore, not so seemingly isolated a concern. These barriers don’t only apply to blind actors looking for work. They apply to all blind people looking for work.

That means most of this isn’t really about Toph, nor the opinions of random people online. Instead, I hope to highlight common patterns in ableist thinking and dispel these ideas using a character people care about. This is, of course, in addition to my own desire to have a blind actress play Toph.

With that said, let’s explore what work accommodations might look like using examples of blind actors.

Dionne Quan is a blind actress who has an extensive filmography for voiceover work, including popular characters such as Kimi from Rugrats. In this article from when the character was first introduced, she discusses how she performs. Link.

Quote from the article: “Most of the recording was done in a studio with just a mike and a stand for the script. I had the lines in braille, and I would read them on the way over to get into character. You have to have your bag of tricks ready to go.”

Most of the work Quan discusses involves typical acting stuff. The accommodations given to her are similar to adaptations that might be made in an office setting. Additionally, with all the technology available now, it is easy to make a script accessible through large print, VoiceOver and memorization, Word document instead of a PDF, a Braille display, etc.

And as of August 2024, Quan can add adult Toph Beifong to her list of characters. Which is super exciting and, I thought, an appropriate fact to include in this post. You can read more here.

To continue the discussion of accommodations for actors, I would like to discuss Ellie Wallwork. Wallwork is a blind actress who has performed on Doctor Who.

She describes her experiences on set, such as blocking scenes and using tactile accommodations in this short video from the SeeSaw podcast. Link here.

Transcript:

Elie Wallwork speaking:

“Obviously, markers are just normally flat bits of tape on the floor. I had to have some sort of tactile ones so I knew where I was stepping onto. And it takes longer. It definitely takes a bit longer. I guess the thing that frustrates me about the industry is that sometimes casting directors will think, ‘Well, how could a blind person possibly do this, do that? How could they do stunts? How could they even navigate around set?’ But it’s perfectly possible if you— for example, with the crew that I had on all the productions I’ve been on, they’ve all been really kind, really patient with me and able to understand that, yeah, okay, it might take me five minutes longer to block a scene, but that’s fine because it means it’s authentic.”

End transcript.

You can listen to the full episode here.

Lastly, I find that many sighted people are not generally knowledgeable when it pertains to what blind people can or cannot do. Examples of this lack of knowledge include frequent questions about how blind people read, exist in online spaces, cook, etc—and these are simply from posts on my own blog.

Here is a link to a discussion thread that explores ableist assumptions people often make what blind people are or are not able to do. It particularly relevant for this topic. Link can be found here. Please remember that while I did respond to some folks who expressed opinions colored by ableist assumptions, that post is not about them. Just as this post is about addressing ableism in general rather than from a specific source.

The point is: consider why abled people are so comfortable stating what blind people can and cannot do, when one of the most common questions about blindness is still “how do you use a phone or the internet?”

People who aren’t blind often fail to grasp what our limitations actually are. Many people are still surprised to learn that technology or accommodations exist for us, despite having access to various forms of technology themselves. They struggle to understand that we can live our daily lives, possibly because they personally cannot imagine themselves without the vision they rely on, such as that time a professor asked blind content creator Stephanie Renburg [quote] “How do you live?” when the conversation was supposed to be about school accommodations [Link here].

This brings me to an assertion that is often made when sighted actors obscure their vision in order to play blind characters. It is often noted that it was too hard for them emotionally, mentally, and physically. Because of this reaction, the assumption is made that a blind person cannot possibly perform the role.

For example, in the article linked here, this is stated about Jamie Foxx in his role as Ray Charles. “Some actors, including Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles in “Ray” (2004, best actor) and Blake Lively in “All I See Is You” (2017), have chosen to wear ocular prosthetics, rendering them literally blind during their performances. But this creates a new problem: Unlike real blind people, who can spend years honing their orientation and mobility skills, the blindfolded sighted person becomes lost, confused and frightened with the sudden loss of sight — Foxx told interviewers he began hyperventilating as soon as his eyes were glued shut with the custom prosthetic eyelids that the filmmakers affixed over his eyes.”

Being blind is different from a sighted person temporarily obscuring their vision. Blind people have a better handle on being blind because we’ve been doing it longer. Blindness is part of our lives. Of course blind people are going to have an easier time portraying blind characters. This means most of the concerns people bring up when discussing sighted actors struggling with being unable to see won’t actually apply to blind people who have been at this for far longer.

I also wanted to address the idea that hiring blind actors would cost more, according to the assertion made in that thread about hiring blind actors, which you can read here if you haven’t already. While I can understand why someone might believe hiring a blind actor would cost more, I believe it would actually cost less.

Blind actors can use their own canes or other assistive devices used by the character, which saves money on expensive materials

Blind actors likely already have experience with O&M training, saving money and time that would otherwise be spent training a sighted actor, such as described here

Blind actors don’t need contacts or prosthetics, which may otherwise be used help an actor simulate blindness

And blind actors would have an easier time navigating sets, dancing, or doing required physical activities while blind, which reduces the learning curve that sighted actors with obscured vision need

A few Disclaimers:

1) Blind people learn from our communities and through life experience. While we naturally have more experience being blind, our knowledge is enhanced through learning from other blind people and participating in training designed to improve our life skills. I maintain that a sighted person obscuring their vision for a few hours will not have the same level of experience.

2) Reminder that blindness is a spectrum that a blindfold cannot replicate.

and 3) This post is not to say that sighted actors cannot do well or cannot put effort into their performance. According to the article above, Charlie Cox won an award from the AFB for his commitment to portraying Daredevil. However, just because there are sighted actors willing to put in the work does not mean blind actors can’t. I wanted to include this disclaimer in case someone sees the AFB article I shared and worried I’m trying to disparage actors who have already portrayed blind characters and happened to do a good job. After all, I love the original performance we received from Michaela Murphy, who originally voiced Toph. That doesn’t mean studios should not make an effort to cast more blind actors moving forward, nor does it justify any of the silly or explicitly ableist reasons people give for why sighted actors must be chosen over blind ones.

Let us return to refuting those excuses with the last thing I wanted to address.

5. Some people are concerned that a blind person might get hurt doing martial arts, but so can literally anyone else

[Image description: GIF of Toph dressed in Fire Nation attire. She punches through a rock.]

Kids can get hurt in any kind of sport, yet society doesn’t try to keep children from these activities for their own safety. However, disabled kids—and adults for that matter—are often reminded that we are being kept out of spaces for our own protection. Which we didn’t need, nor ask for.

This need to protect disabled people can be not only infantilizing, but hypocritical as well. For example, a blind person might be discouraged from playing recreational sports in a misguided attempt to protect them. Conversely, structures that keep blind people at risk are allowed to stay firmly in place, such as discrimination around transportation, inaccessible infrastructure, and poverty.

Blind people play sports anyway. Often, these sports carry their own risks of injury, as most sports do. Blind people have the agency to understand this and consent to it. Examples include blind football [link] and goalball [link].

Here is a video of Sadi the Blind Lady discussing goalball with Eliana Mason, a Paralympic athlete who plays goalball professionally.

Transcript: “Goalball is sport for blind and visually impaired athletes. It was created after World War II for blinded veterans and is now a Paralympic sport. The coolest thing about it is that everyone wears eyeshades so no matter what your level of vision loss is—because blindness is a spectrum— it equalizes it. The ball has bells in it and the court is straight with tape over it. It’s on a volleyball sized court. It’s three on three. And basically in offense, we are throwing the ball as hard as we can with a lot of technique involved, about 30 to 45 miles an hour to have it hit the ground and roll and hit the other players on their bodies. And on defense, you are throwing your body out and diving in front of this 3 pound ball and blocking it. So essentially you want to get hit with the ball.”

End transcript.

Getting hit with a ball, especially in the face or stomach area, is going to hurt. That is okay, because as long as safety precautions are taken, pain might be part of the experience depending on the rules and anticipated possibility of injury.

Martial arts and dance, which are backgrounds sought specifically in the Netflix Toph casting call, can also lead to accepted forms of pain or discomfort. While one could argue that sports injuries could and should be preventable, this post is more concerned with the expectation of pain, injuries, and what steps are taken to prevent them, such as protective gear or an experienced coach / teacher.

A blind person auditioning for Toph knows that martial arts will be involved. She will spend time learning choreography, building trust with co-actors, and figuring out works best for her. This structure is similar for blind people playing football or goalball or tennis or fencing or whatever else they want to do.

Lastly, people who aren’t blind also experience pain or injury during sports. Same with martial arts or dance.

The actress who plays Toph might get hurt. She might not. Some pain might even be an expected part of training. That is no reason to exclude a blind person from participating. That is no reason to say Toph couldn’t be played by a blind actress. [Bolded for emphasis]

Lastly, anyone training actors on fight choreography already knows how to do so safely. That fact that this is choreography is also helpful, allowing for memorization of actions and reactions. Conversely, the sports and physical activities I listed above are not choreographed, with the exception of dance, and are therefore less predictable. Therefore, if blind people can get head injuries playing on a recreational blind football team, a blind actress can handle fight choreography.

Closing

Thank you for reading all of this. My points still stand whether or not a blind person is actually cast for Toph.

Too Long, Didn’t Read:

Unchecked ableism can lead to oppression even if it is unintentional

Blind actors exist

A blind actor would better capture Toph’s ease and confidence with her blindness

Blind people can do a lot more than sighted people usually think they can

Blind people also face discrimination and limitations that sighted people may not have considered

Blindness is a spectrum and most blind people can still see something

There is no one way to look or move like a blind person

Accommodations are not that difficult to provide

Hiring a blind person would actually cost less money

Most of the popular reasons people believe Toph cannot be played by a blind actress are rooted in ableism

This post is not only about Toph or actors, but an example of how unchecked ableism can be harmful

For example, low employment rates for blind people, inaccessible online resources, or Toph-related posts shared without image descriptions

Toph Beifong could totally be played by a blind actress

[lost-romantique]

Blitzø's Realization & Feelings

I like how Blitz is initially confused the moment Stolas arrives on scene and breaks into song...

He understands that Stolas just saved him from getting his head chopped off, but he still doesn't understand what he's doing at the trial.

After all, in Blitzø’s mind Stolas is over him, and moved on the moment he saw Stolas having the time of his life dancing with BTB.

In Blitzø’s memory reel Stolas has his top eyes open, and I think to Blitzø he reads it as Stolas seeing and relishing in that kiss, in that moment. Blitzø doesn't even consider the fact that it was a drunken kiss.

But the moment Stolas takes all the blame for himself, things take a turn...

It clicks for Blitzø, and he's just in pure and utter shock as he sees just how much Stolas genuinely and truly loves him.

It's at this moment where he says the words, "I don't want to live a life without you by my side."

Blitzø takes this time to finally let his emotions pour out like a fucking waterfall.

Whereas compared to Ghostfuckers he just subtly acknowledges it.

His expression drops from realization to pure panic at Stolas' actions. Blitzø doesn't want to die, but at the same time, he definitely doesn't want someone he cares about to take the fall for him.

"What are you doing!? I don't deserve this!"

"I realized too late!" Blitzø acknowledges that he realized both Stolas’ feelings and his own feelings too late in the game.

Blitzø in Apology Tour didn't understand his own feelings, let alone Stolas’ feelings. He tries to, but he can't.

"Don't give your life to clean my slate."

What I love about this line is that it reads as: Don't sacrifice yourself to absolve me of my crimes. Blitzø makes it clear he doesn't want this.

"You’re my heart."

Blitzø breaks down and says these words because to Blitzø this is what Stolas is, the key to his heart that he's kept locked up for years, and someone he wants to give his whole heart too.

Because Blitzø closed off his heart after the fire. His love is something that he believed could hurt someone, but with Stolas, he's worth that risk.

The moment Stolas is wrapped in chains, Blitzø moves on instinct, almost as if he's trying to get out of his own chains so he can run to Stolas.

Felt like it would be a disservice not to show the clip that destroyed me. 😀

Blitzø, the moment he's freed of his chains Blitzø says the words, "No- no!" in disbelief, shock, and desperation.

Blitzø is so desperate to stop Stolas from what he's doing, begging him to do anything to stop this from happening. And if that meant getting himself killed, he'd do it.

Because he doesn't want a repeat of this happening. It's one thing for people to leave Blitzø, he’s used to that, but it's another to have them die, especially in front of him.

He breaks down when he fears his worse fears have come true: that Stolas is dead and he can't do anything to stop it.

It's why Blitzø is so shocked and surprised the moment he sees Stolas alive, because his worse fears didn't happen.

The moment Blitzø gets the reassurance that he's is loved by Stolas he falls into that caretaking role almost instantly, since he knows Stolas is hurting right now.

He's taking steps being extra gentle, extra reassuring, extra soft, even going as far as to fluff the pillow on his couch.

It vaguely reminds me of how Blitzø is able to sorta gage what people's needs are. In this moment, Blitzø was about to shoot Creepzo, but instead he opts to beat Creepzo with the end of his gun once he realizes Fizz is on the verge of a panic attack.

What I love about this shot is that this is the most at peace Blitzø has ever looked in the entire show.

He's just so grateful that he's alive and that Stolas is alive.

~~~~~~

Anyway, wanted to include this bit because I love how Sam Haft pointed out that Blitzø leaves Mastermind more self-actualized.

Whereas for Stolas, he leaves Mastermind more humbled as he gets a taste of how truly privileged he is.

[shelbgrey]

hi hi! I just saw that you said you’d start writing for Hotch (he’s such hot dad/ boss material right?!) anyways could I request a Hotch x new reader where she’s the newest member of the team and he’s very protective. Everyone thinks it’s just because she’s new & younger but it’s actually because he really wants her even though he’s her boss. (But that just makes it hotter honestly.) I hope that’s okay & not too vague!

In the name of love(Aaron Hotchner)

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x Reid!Reader

Summary: (based on season 4, episode 1) Hotch has always been protective of y/n, but always played it off that was she was newer to the bau then when that excuse expired it turned into the fact they're best friends. They danced around their feelinga until an act of sudden death entered their lives.

A/n: I kinda had to chang the plot a tiny bit, I hope you like it 😅

MasterList ML2

Ever since Spencer Reid's older sister ditched the medical life to join the BAU to was inevitable she'd become an important part of the team. The BAU is used to the gruesome cases and dead bodies, working in the medical field this didn't bother y/n. It was obvious they were such a close team and it didn't take long for y/n to fit in. In the beginning she wasn't seen as a Rookie, but someone they'd quickly take a bullet for. They were the type of family that would take a bullet for one another. Aaron Hotchner, her unit chief, is someone who would take a bullet for her without a second thought, even if he didn't realize how much she truly meant to him.

The team, especially Derek and aside from Spencer would give him crap for how protective he was. Derek saw right through it and with Rossi Intoe they'd joke and push Aaron to make a move. Spencer on the other hand was clueless to it all. And on top of that y/n would just follow orders, especially in the beginning. But she wasn't stupid, she caught onto his over protectiveness and honestly she loved it. She never had someone care that much about her safety. She was always the one protecting Spencer and taking care of their mother. This time she had someone taking care of her, deep down it scared her because it was such a new feeling, but she got used to it. Especially when she started considering Aaron her best friend.

Months passed and she wasn't new anymore, but Aaron was still protective. His over protectiveness followed them into New York for a case. Their case was about people who apparently have nothing in common and are being shot randomly in New York City. The team didn't know if it was a single person or a team. Of course, under Aaron's orders, y/n spent most of the case inside with JJ and away from flying bullets. To the dismay of Aaron Hotchner, he learned quickly he couldn't protect her from everything. No matter how hard he tried.

That night Aaron offered to take y/n back to the hotel like usual. Like usual she agreed. Both of them were unaware of the trap that was set under that SUV. They were just a couple of feet away from the SUV when the bomb the unsub planted exploded, shooting them across the street. Y/n landed the farthest away. She layed on the road in pain.

“Aaron!” she cried out, holding her side.

The impact of the blast knocked Aaron to the ground, his ears ringing from the sound. He groaned as he slowly got to his feet, pain shooting through his body from the fall. “y/n!” He managed to say, his head spinning.

He looked around, panic starting to set in when he saw her lying on the ground. He rushed over to her, stumbling as he moved as quickly as he could. Aaron knelt down beside you, his eyes widening when he saw the blood. He carefully pushed your hand away, his touch gentle as he examined the wound.

“I think I'm bleeding” y/n gasped softly, disoriented. She grabbed the side of her stomach, feeling a pool of blood, leaking over both of their hands.

“It's bad” He mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady. His heart was racing, fear and worry written all over his face. He could see she was barely conscious.

Y/n winced when he put more pressure on the gash on her body, both of their hands were getting reader, soaking in blood. “God dammit” she gasped softly.

Aaron cursed under his breath, the sight of the blood making him feel sick. He continued to apply pressure to the wound, trying to stem the flow as best he could. “Just, just stay with me, okay? You're going to be alright” He said, trying to sound reassuring but failing miserably.

He knew that help wasn't going to come anytime soon and that he had to do what he could to keep her alive.

“Explosions are a lot cooler in movies than they are in real life,” y/n winced. She talked a lot when she was nervous. She was nervous plus getting light headed. “Aaron, that idiot exploded the car”

Aaron agreed, focusing on keeping pressure on her wound. He could see that she was getting lightheaded and knew that time was running out. “Try to stay awake, okay? You've lost a lot of blood” He said, his voice cracking with fear.

“God dammit, why did it have to be in New York?,” y/n was losing consciousness, not really understanding what she was saying now. “I don't want to die in freaking New York”

Aaron’s grip on her hand got tighter. He was trying to keep his composure but the panic inside him was growing. “You're not going to die, you hear me? You're not. You're going to be fine” He said, his voice shaking as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The thought of her not making it through this was unbearable, he couldn't lose her.

--------(flashback)--------

“You know there's a difference between being protective and just plain benching the poor girl” Rossi said.

“You saw what happened, when that bastard kidnapped Reid and her, ” Aaron said flatly, thinking about the unsub(who had split personalities) had her and Spencer. “I'm not risking that again”

“Ever since that day you haven't even considered the idea that she knows how to take care of herself” Rossi said seriously and quietly.

“I know she can, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna have her back”

--------(end of flashback)--------

“New York is gross and loud,” y/n said softly and breathlessly. She was getting disoriented. She gulped as she gripped the hand he had on her gash. Both of their hands were nothing but red with blood now. “why can't we have an unsub in Tennessee or s-something” To y/n there was only one reason to go to Tennessee, Memphis specifically and the only reason to go there was Graceland and all Elvis stuff.

Aaron chuckled softly, despite the situation the both of them were in. “Yeah, you've always hated New York,” He said, recalling all the times she had complained about the city. His eyes flicked to their bloody hands. The sight was a stark reminder of just how dire the situation was. “And we don't get all the crazy cases. Plus, you'd go out of your mind for all the Elvis stuff in Memphis”

Y/n tried to laugh, but ended up just letting out a painful cough. “yeah, P-probably couldn't be trusted to n-not w-wonder off” she winced, trying to stay focused but she just got dizzier.

Aaron noticed her struggling to stay focused and he tightened his grip on her hand, trying to keep her grounded. “That's an understatement. You'd be going to Graceland every day like a kid in a candy store” He said, trying to distract her from the severity of the situation. He could see that she was getting weaker by the minute.

“I never actually got to go. D-didn't,” she winced, losing blood. “didn't have the money as a k-kid, Now with the job I don't have e-enough time” she shuddered, her vision getting blurry.

Aaron's grip on your hand tightened. “We'll go. When we get out of here, I'll take you to Graceland. We'll go as many times as you want” He said, his voice determined. He knew that she was fading and that she needed to stay awake.

“It's okay. We just have to wait for the others to get here” He said, his voice shaky and unsure.

“N-no, they C-can't see this,” Tears pricked her eyes as she fades in and out. “Spencer C-can't see it. He can't lose someone else” she shivered, not wanting her little brother Spencer seeing her die.

Aaron winced at her mention of Spencer. He knew how close the two of them were and how much it would hurt Spencer to see her like this. “He's not going to lose you. You're going to be fine” He repeated, trying to reassure himself as much as her. He could see the tears in her eyes and he felt helpless, knowing that there was nothing he could do except keep pressure on her wound and wait for help.

“I'm not gonna lose you” he mumbled.

“At least if I kick the bucket now we won't have to worry about him seeing me getting all old and schizophrenic like our mom”

Aaron shook his head, refusing to even entertain the thought of losing you. He couldn't bear the idea of her giving up. “Don't talk like that. You're not going to die, you hear me? You're going to be fine” He said, his voice more firm than before. He could feel her grip on his hand loosening and it terrified him.

“A-Aaron”

Aaron looked at her, his eyes meeting her hazy ones. His heart was racing, fear making it difficult for him to think straight. “Yeah?”

“I N-need to tell y-you something, I can't take it to my grave”

Aaron's grip on her hand tightened and he nodded, his expression serious. “No, you're gonna tell me when you're safe and sound”

he didn't want whatever y/n was about to tell him, he didn't want it to be something she felt like she had to say because she thought she was about to die. He wanted to hear it when she was out of danger, even if it was just to give him peace of mind.

“Aaron” y/n sighed.

Aaron looked at her, his expression full of concern and worry. He could see that she had something important to say and he braced himself for what was coming next.

“I love you,” y/n said softly. “I never expected to fall in L-love with you, b-but I did” she winced as hers and Aaron's hand put more pressure on the gash on her stomach.

Aaron's heart skipped a beat as he heard her confession. He was taken aback, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He had always felt something for her, something that went beyond friendship and the protection he felt for her, but he had never let himself entertain the idea that it could be something more

But at that moment, with her life hanging in the balance, he couldn't deny it any longer. He realized that he felt the same way, that he loved her with every fiber of his being.

“I'm sorry. I loved you since the day we met” when they met he was married and made y/n feel awful to some degree. He was divorced now, but it still felt weird to confess. But if she was gonna die he needed to know.

Aaron felt a lump form in his throat as y/n confessed that she had loved him since the day they met. It was like a punch to the gut, knowing that all this time she had been carrying those feelings for him. He felt guilty for not seeing it sooner, for being blinded by his own feelings and for what happened months ago. “Why didn't you say anything?” he managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I think we can make a long list about why I didn't say anything” y/n mumbled.

Aaron chuckled weakly, knowing that she was right. There were a thousand reasons why y/n hadn't said anything, all of them valid and understandable. “guess we could” He said, his mind racing as he processed everything she had just said. He still had a million questions, but they would have to wait until later. Right now, his only concern was keeping her alive until help arrived.

“If, If something does happen. If I die, tell Spencer I'm sorry. That I'm proud of him”

Aaron shook his head, refusing to even entertain the thought of her dying. He couldn't lose her, not now, not after everything that had happened. “You're not going to die. You're going to be fine. You're going to make it through this” He said, his voice firm and determined, but there was a hint of desperation in it. He was desperate to keep y/n alive, to keep her with him.

Just then, in the distance, he heard sirens. Help was finally coming. He looked down at y/n, his eyes hopeful. “See? Help's here. You're gonna be alright”

Y/n nodded softly, barely keeping focused. Aaron's grip on her hand was so tight it was probably hurting her. He was terrified of losing her, of letting go. Finally, the medics arrived and took over for him, gently prying his hand away from hers.

He felt helpless as he watched them load y/n onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, his heart racing with worry. He followed her into the ambulance as she lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

It was a long night for Aaron. He paced around the hospital waiting room, his eyes glued to the clock. Every tick of the seconds felt like an eternity. He was desperate for news, anything to tell him that y/n was okay.

“Pacing around isn't gonna help” Rossi said softly.

“I really don't want to hear it, Dave” Aaron sighed, as he sat down next to him.

Aaron sighed, slumping down next to Rossi. He rubbed his hands together and his knee was bouncing up and down nervously. He could hear the faint ringing in his ear from the explosion, meaning the adrenaline he was feeling was dying down and he could feel the damage that was done to him.

“You should get checked out” Rossi said softly, looking at the cuts on Aaron's face and the red stains on his hands.

“I'm fine”

“Y/n won't be out of surgery for another few hours” Rossi said softly. “you've protected her enough for the night, take care of yourself”

“I found out tonight I can't protect her from everything”

“It's pretty much impossible, but that doesn't make you any less of a good person” Rossi reassured to which Aaron stared off in the distance and nodded.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Later that night y/n woke up from surgery. She winced softly, making Spencer and Aaron both jump to her side. Y/n opened her eye and smiled slightly when it clicked Arron and Spencer were there with her. She swallowed. “Did you get the unsub? Y/n asked in a soft, weak tone.

Aaron's eyes are red from lack of sleep and from worrying about her, while Spencer looks exhausted but relieved to see that she was awake. “Yeah, we got him. Morgan found him and got em” Aaron said, his voice filled with exhaustion. He lets out a sigh, feeling a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

Y/n nodded as Spencer reached out and gently took her hand, she could see in his eyes how terrified he had been. Then he started crying in relief and worry.

Y/n gave him a weak, sympathetic smile. “Come on, don't cry, I'm okay”

Spencer tries to stop himself from crying, but he can't help it. He's been worrying about y/n for hours and now that he knows she's okay, the floodgates have opened. “I can't help it. I was so worried about you” He managed to say through his tears.

“I'm okay” y/n repeated.

Spencer nods, trying to compose himself, but he's still crying softly. He's just so relieved that y/n was okay and that she was awake.

Meanwhile, Aaron is standing next to him. His expression is a mix of relief, exhaustion, and something else. There's a intensity in his eyes as he looks at y/n, like he has something he needs to say.

Aaron takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with what he's about to say. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

Y/n nodded softly as Spencer looks reluctant to leave, but he also knew that she and Aaron needed to talk. He gets up from his chair and leaves the room, giving her a worried look before closing the door behind him.

It's just y/n and Aaron now. He stands there, staring at her, taking in every detail of her face.

“Always so serious” y/n said, giving him a weak grin.

Aaron let out a small chuckle, his expression softening. “Yeah, I have to be. I'm the unit chief, remember?” He took a step closer to the bed, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said softly, clearing her throat. “I know”

He smiled warmly at y/n, glad to see some color returning to her cheeks. “You had me worried, you know that?”

“I know” y/n said softly, clearing her throat gently. It was still dry and rough from the surgery.

Aaron could see the discomfort on her face and he wished he could make it go away. “Are you thirsty? I can get you some water”

“N-no, I don't want you to go anywhere”

He shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here”

He takes the seat to y/n’s side once more and gently grabs her hand, his thumb running circles over her knuckles, making her smile weakly. He can feel the weight of everything that happened finally lifting off of his shoulders. Y/n was going to be okay and that was all that mattered.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “There's, there's something I need to tell you”

Y/n nodded softly and he hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. He had been thinking about what to say all night, but now that the moment was here, he found himself tongue-tied. “I just, I need you to know that I-”

“You don't have to say anything” y/n said softly, shaking her head. “I shouldn't have brought it up in a moment like that”

Aaron shakes his head, cutting her off. “No, I do. I need to say this,” He takes a deep breath, looking y/n directly in the eyes. “I love you”

“I love you,” she smiled weakly. “I'd be more spontaneous and maybe even try to jump your bones, but I'm so high on pain meds and I feel like an elephant is sitting on me all at the same time”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head at her attempt to lighten the mood. His grip on her hand tightened, his expression growing serious again. “You never fail with that smart mouth, do you?”

Y/n smiled softly and Aaron shook his head, his expression softening. “But seriously, you scared the hell out of me. Don't ever do something like that again, you hear me?”

“I hear ya”

He was quiet for a moment, just looking into y/n’s eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do, but he knew that she wasn't in any condition for that right now. “Get some rest, okay? I'll stay right here”

[theflagscene]

Think about how the Jack and Joker kiss was such a long time coming not just for fans, but for Yin and War as well.

Which is why I think they’re so snappy—not in a bad way, they’re protective of their show—with people complaining on Twitter. Consider, they worked together in 2020 during En of Love, where their own 4 episode story was the most popular out of all three story arcs. So popular in fact that fans wanted a more flushed out version of Mark and Vee’s story, but it’s not until two years later that they get to work together again, only they are playing the same characters, telling the same story, even saying the same same dialogue! Now, don’t get me wrong, Love Mechanics was a fair upgrade from the mini series. But after wanting to work together again for so long, they were just playing Mark and Vee again, how completely dull for them.

So they do what many Thai BL actors do, they go on tour together, at least that’s something. And damn if the mini heist YouTube video they make for it doesn’t do numbers! The fans want more of them, more of that! Hell they want more themselves, yet their—at the time—company wouldn’t give them roles. So screw it, they take a chance and don’t renew their contracts and become independent artists. That doesn’t always go well, and it’s a lot of hard work to get parts without a company trying to lock actors into years long contracts.

So they go full Saint and just decide to make what they wanna make on their own terms with their own money, Yin sold his damn car to help fund the series so they didn’t have to cave to corporate shilling of drinks and beauty products. It takes years to get a script hammered out, actors willing to take a chance working with them, editors, directors, all of it. And all of those people need to be paid, hell, they need to be paid!

But it’s here now, their real proper second series together, fresh and new after four—almost five—years! And what’s more, it’s doing great, amazing even. Now they have fancons in the work and tv interviews and magazines cover shoots (freaking Vogue Thailand!?), and so many companies reaching out wanting to invest in them. The management at Rookie Thailand is no doubt kicking themselves for not putting more faith in these men. They had the fans, they had the passion for the work and what’s more, they had each other. When you find that type of friendship, you fight for it, and that’s what they did to be able to make Jack & Joker. Yin and War put their blood, sweat and tears in their series, not to mention their money and reputations as well.

So when Jack and Joke finally kissed? Yeah, the chemistry was still there, was never not there. But those two, they had a point to prove and it was proven with that damn kiss.

Gifs snagged from @wanderlust-in-my-soul fantastic post—go reblog it—since after 25 minutes of scrolling it’s clear the episode gifs are too new to show up in the gif search engine lol.

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (3)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part three | next part >>>

"Seems like the night out helped then?"

Osamu can't hide his grin from the way you're flushing a deep red. It's so cute and adorable to see you this way, after months and months of just having the corpse of your soul wander around his coffee bar like you didn't know where else to go.

Now it seems, is a completely different story. You're glowing.

"How do you know that?" you almost splutter out your coffee as you gawk at your cousin from the other end of the bar.

Osamu proceeds to wipe down the counter. It's a Monday afternoon and it seems that the activity has slowed down somewhat, giving him a chance to catch up with you. He tries to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he answers, "how do you think I know?"

"Your brother can't keep his mouth shut now, can he?" you mutter into your coffee with a scowl.

Osamu laughs, "can you blame him? This is probably the first time since your breakup that you've even considered the possibility of going out and meeting new people. Let alone go through with it. You should be thanking him--"

"He takes too much credit for my happiness. He doesn't need more stroking to his ego."

"Point taken," Osamu can't argue with that. His brother is somewhat of an egocentric bastard. One with a kind heart and a nice smile nevertheless. But still a bastard. Done with the cleaning, he walks over to you as he leans atop the kitchen counter, "so? How was it then?"

"Fine."

Osamu's brow raises, "give me a bit more than that, y/n. I'm not stupid."

You pause, "it was..." the words feel weird swimming along your tongue, "...fun."

"Right?" your cousin breaks into a grin, "and how's the little chica doin'?"

"The little chica is a little too obsessed with her PE teacher."

"At least she likes him."

You hum, "point taken."

Talking to Osamu is a lot easier than his twin counterpart, solely because he isn't as dramatic and is rather subtle, able to control his emotions better and easier to have a conversation with actual sense without going off the rails every five minutes. It was refreshing, despite the fact that you didn't spend as much time as the grey-haired young man due to clashing schedules.

"So...this Kuroo guy..."

A groan can't help but fall from your lips as your head hits the counter, "Osamu, I'm twenty-nine. I don't need any boy talk--"

"Oh yes you do honey," he sing-songs and leans even closer, grey eyes sparkling. It's in these moments that he resembles Atsumu so much you wish to whack him one, "just because your father ain't here doesn't mean you get to do whatever you wa--"

"Enough." your hand shoots out, slapping onto Osamu's mouth.

He pulls away with a cackle, wiping his hands along his apron, "I'm serious though. Kuroo's a good guy, but if he ever does anything out of line--"

"Yeah yeah I got it."

"--I'll kick his balls so hard--"

"Osamu!"

"Okay okay," he chuckles and holds out his hands in surrender, and you glower at him from your seat.

It's bad enough that Atsumu has constantly been wheedling some answers out of you. Adding Osamu to the mix is not something you want on your agenda. Ever since that night, you have been exchanging messages with the said PE Coach despite the growing anxiety about where this will all lead to. But in-between organizing events for your job, baking cakes and debating on whether to sign those darned papers, it's been a welcome distraction.

Okay, maybe more than a welcome distraction.

It's been...amazing.

Something to look forward to. Someone that seemed to understand you, your sense of humor, who doesn't judge and makes you smile no matter what mood you might be in. And somehow, it's hard for your heart to just close off when Kuroo is so insistent on making it melt into a puddle of goo.

Like that one time you were late to pick up Sakura from athletics practice for instance, having been taken up with a client on the other side of the city centre only to have rushed through traffic like a madwoman, arriving when the courtyard was practically empty. Panicked and more than a little worried about Sakura's whereabouts, you had found her at the entrance of the gymnasium, playing footsie with none other than Kuroo.

"Oh," Kuroo noticed you first, golden eyes lighting up just as your daughter's head turned towards the source of curiosity, "Mum!"

She'd dashed over and you'd cradled her in your arms, your heart finally able to resume its normal beating now that you knew she was safe and sound.

You'd looked up at Kuroo then, with his ball tucked under one arm as he casually strode over to you. The words felt pathetic and useless as they tumbled out of your mouth, "I'm --thank you, for staying with her."

"It's no problem," he stopped before you, a smile dancing across the curve of his lips, "it's a good excuse to see you, I suppose."

You blinked at him, "huh?"

And then the words hit you like a truck.

Your face colored so fast even Sakura took note, tilting her head up at you as her eyebrows furrowed in concern, "mum are you okay? You're all red--"

"Oh I'm fine, just--you know, the heat--" you were glad for that excuse. Your entire chest area felt on fire, "I--uhm--It's nice to see you too, I guess--Kuroo-sensei."

It was just impossible to miss the sparkle in Kuroo's eyes and you swore you could feel the warmth from him, like a cozy blanket on a cold night wrapping around you. That was before you'd quickly excused yourself and practically bolted.

Another time you'd been late in dropping Sakura off, having slept in and barely being able to shove a few bits of toast down your throat in hopes of beating the morning traffic. Kuroo, it seemed, had been assigned to morning duty that time, and as you'd rushed through the gates with Sakura in tow, you quickly bowed to him before ushering Sakura to her class.

"Go now," you pressed a quick kiss to your daugher's forehead, "I'll see you after school okay?"

"Yes mum," and Sakura had sauntered away as you watched, breathless and chest heaving, a piece of hair stuck to your lip.

"Everything okay, Kosuke-san?"

When you turned to see Kuroo, hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and looking all too fine with his PE jersey draped over his broad shoulders like a runaway model, your eyes flitted away with embarrassment.

"Yeah," you nodded, "morning traffic is terrible."

"I bet," Kuroo's eyes flitted down and you followed, only to make a small sound of embarrassment as you spotted two different pairs of sneakers on your feet, "someone woke up late today."

You really want to hide. Maybe duck your head in a whole. Maybe ignore him—

But you can’t, and so you can just shuffle awkwardly like a penguin, “I—was trying out a new style.”

Lame. But what else could you say?

Kuroo’s laugh bought warmth to your cheeks and before you knew it, his fingers had come up to untangle the hair stuck to your face. He pushed it back behind your ear.

“Suits you,” his voice drops to a murmur.

Every single cell in your body had exploded and you’d quickly fumbled for an excuse before rushing into your car as far away as you possibly could.

You tried your best to push him to the back of your mind, for there were a million other things to take care of. Like the divorce papers for example, which had been glaring at you from your coffee table ever since the mailman had deposited it right outside your doorstep.

You were all for signing it, but every time you mustered up the courage to, Atsumu’s words rang like an echo inside your head:

Don’t do it unless you’re getting something out of it.

It keeps eating away at you, the mixture of guilt and remorse. Not to forget the fact that you’ve been adamantly staying away every time you see Aoi’s name flashing across your screen. That all comes to an end one Friday evening when he rolls up in his car to pick up Sakura for the weekend.

Your daughter, unaware of what’s going on, is quick to stick her face to the window, “papa!”

Her shriek makes you wince. Once, this name had made your heart warm.

Now, it just hurts.

“Hey,” Aoi lets himself in with practiced ease and you turn away to stuff the remaining items in Sakura’s bag, all so that you can avoid watching the scene because it hurts a little too much.

“Papa, I’ve been playing a loooot of volleyball recently!” Sakura’s jumping around like an excited pup, “—and I even scored a point once!”

“You?” You hear Aoi chuckle and zip up Sakura’s bag a bit too harshly, “you barely have the height to reach the net!”

“It’s not the actual net Papa!” Sakura scowls then, “it’s a children’s net! Papa, you really need to come pick me up more often. You’ll understand what it looks like then!”

“Yeah you’re right Kura, maybe I should.”

Ache and longing seep through your chest. You couldn’t help not listening in when they were right in front of you, but you did your best in blocking out your ex-husband’s voice as you wrap up the last of her belongings just as Sakura’s voice belts out in surprise:

“Kuroo-sensei?!”

Huh? Your head whips up so fast that you feel the ache of it at the back of your neck. Sakura meanwhile, jumps up and down in barely restrained excitement while pointing at the window, “mum! Mum did you see?! Kuroo-sensei is here!” She turns to look at you, “Why is he here mum?”

Sure enough, the said young man stands at the doorstep, hands in his pockets and leaning against the threshold in a manner that has your heart racing.

You scramble to your feet at the same time that Aoi straightens and swivels towards the door.

Surprise flits through Kuroo’s eyes, lasting a millisecond before he’s grinning and extending a friendly hand, “hey,” he directs it towards your ex-husband, “I’m Kuroo, Sakura’s PE coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aoi gives his hand a deft shake and you want nothing more than to disappear, “I’m Sakura’s father.”

“Yes, I see the ressemblance,” Kuroo smiles wanly just as the said child bounds straight into his arms, “Kuroo-sensei! What are you doing here?”

You ignore the way Aoi is drilling holes into your skull. Now is definitely not the time for explanations.

What kind of explanations do you owe him anyway? It's not like he's asked for your permission before he went and played love island with some kind of bimbo you barely knew existed.

“Hey munchkin!” Kuroo sweeps her up and she shrieks in delight before settling her back down, “I’m here for your mum today.”

He is? Your eyes widen, finding his own golden irises in a silent question that Kuroo only responds with a bashful grin.

“Really? Where are you taking mum? Can I come along?” Sakura, as clueless as ever, bounces up and down in delight.

You’re quick to intervene, “Sakura, you’re spending the weekend with Papa remember? He’s been waiting all week to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah, don’t you want some time alone with your dad, kiddo?” Aoi spreads his arms, “come on! Didn’t you want to go to the zoo?!”

Sakura gasps at that, her eyes going round, “we’re going to the zoo?!” She all but squeaks.

You can’t resist smiling at her reactions, leaning down towards her before tucking her hair behind her ear, “that’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”

But her chubby hand grabs onto yours, “are you coming?”

The words pierce you and you take a small inhale. Your eyes find Aoi’s from across the room and though you know it’s not his fault, you know this isn’t something he did just on a whim, your eyes say everything you cannot: you did this to us.

Instead, you’re forced to smile down at her, smoothing one hand over the back of her head, “it’s just going to be you and papa today alright Sakura? And then I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

Her face falls and something twists in your gut, “okay,” her voice is small when she answers.

But you have no choice but to let her go, watching as her father grabbed onto her hand and walked out of the door. You can’t look at Kuroo’s face, knowing that there’s probably pity written all across his features. Definitely not something that you’d want if the situation were reversed.

You’re surprised he still hasn’t high-tailed it back to his car up until now. But maybe he’s just being polite.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that makes its way out of your mouth when you finally gather up the courage to face him.

Your eyes stay glued on a spot along his shirt, glad for his tall height as you continue muttering out, “it’s just a bad time, I didn’t know you were coming—“

“Actually I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Your eyes flit up to his, the gentleness in his voice throwing you off guard and what you find in those golden pupils make your heart flutter slightly.

Kuroo just gazes down at you with a small smile,looking a little sheepish, “I realize I just barged in when I wasn’t really welcome.”

“No—no, no! Not at all!” You lift your arms in a sign of surrender, “I’m curious though… why did you? Come, I mean. Is there—“ you hesitate slightly, “—is there something you need?”

“Well,” his smile blossomed into a grin. Pressing against the countertop, he leans forward towards you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I came by to see you.”

His words cause a blush to spread across your cheeks, “don’t—say things like that,” you stammer out, “people will misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what exactly?”

“What we are, our relationship,” you let out a breath and shake your head, “anyway, it doesn’t matter. So? What’d you come here for?”

“Like I said,” his eyes are golden glimmers, sparkling with mischief, “I came to see you.”

“Surely it’s not just that,” you splutter.

“More specifically I came to hang out,” he continues, “I heard there’s this new italian place that just opened up a few streets down. Since you seem free, would you like to accompany me?”

“I—uhm—“ the request is so sporadic it sends your brain into a fuzzy cloud, thoughts scattering and making no sense as you try and piece together a reason as to why you cannot make it out.

Your subconscious is begging you to go, practically kneeling on both knees and jumping up and down in excitement. Your brain though, the logical part, is pulling her hair out at the atrocity of it all.

“Fine,” is what you blurt out. Before you even realize what you’ve said. But when Kuroo gives you that million-watt smile you think that maybe it’s all kind of worth it.

———

“No way, he wouldn’t do that—“

“Oh no, he did.” Kuroo snorts into his drink. Leaning back against the parisian chair in which he’s seated as he splays his legs out before him, you fold one leg over the over, all too aware of how physically close he is. If you moved your leg any further you’re certain to brush against his knee.

A delicious, yet terrifying thought.

Kuroo chatters on with the story about Atsumu being kicked out of the boy’s dorm, “when the manager finally found him, they made him do two-hundred pushups and thirty laps around the training grounds. Was a pretty worthy sight, if you ask me.”

“That sounds exactly like what Atsumu would do,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. Trust your cousin to go through all that incessant stuff just because he’d opened his big mouth.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Kuroo leans back in his seat, golden eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together his memories of whether he’d seen you or not, “you’re related to them. You should’ve popped up sometime in the picture.”

“I—“ a lump fills the back of your throat and you press your lips together, look away, “we weren't close as we were growing up. They were so--so overwhelming and I was a shy kid. Until Sakura came into the picture."

Kuroo's eyes are warm. Warmer as he keeps on gazing at you with a softness, with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He's not supposed to look at you like that. Most people will clear their throat at this point in the conversation, or turn their head away.

But he doesn't. He just keeps his eyes on you at all costs. Like you're the most important thing in this room.

You're not sure how to feel about that.

"But when they heard I was pregnant, Atsumu and Osamu were there practically every day," a small smile flickers across your face at the memories that resurface, "they took care of me a lot, especially since my parents were so angry."

You let out a small chuckle, but it's definitely far from funny. It sounds hollow even in the bustling restaurant.

Kuroo leans forward so that his arms rest atop the table, muscles bunching and tensing as he does so. Gorgeous, you think to yourself as he says, "you were alone during your pregnancy?"

"Not actually alone," the smile you show now his bitter, "I had Aoi. At the time he was a really good husband. We got married quickly, just civil, because our parents didn't approve of us keeping the baby. It was quite a shock for them. And I had my two cousins to help me out whenever Aoi wasn't there."

"That must've been hard."

"It wasn't that bad," you take a sip of your water, glad for the distraction.

Kuroo shifts, his knee brushing yours. The warmth sizzles up your leg and a knot forms in your chest. God, you really can't take this.

Almost out of impulse, you find yourself blurting out, "Kuroo-sensei, can I ask you something?"

He tilts his head to the side, a sign for you to go on.

"Why--" the words get clogged up in your throat, "why are you being nice to me?"

The last few words are said in a whisper, for fear of what he will say in return. You hide your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking, but it seems your leg takes on a life of its own as it starts jiggling up and down.

"Kosuke-san."

And that's when Kuroo's hand rests atop your knee. Barely there. Yet searing hot.

Your breath hitches.

You blink at him, heart racing.

He cracks a small, comforting smile. The kind of smile that is crooked at the corners and makes his eyes crinkle up, "you're not scared of me, are you?"

"No," you mumble out, "just scared of your answer."

You shouldn't be so comfortable with him touching you like that. It's gentle, barely there, feather light. It should be scandalous. You should be technically ripping his hand off because in any other normal setting this would count as perverse.

And yet.

Yet, his touch ignites heat that sears right through the material of your jeans. Your heart flutters at his touch and your leg freezes in mid-shake, unsure of whether to continue when his gaze makes you feel a multitude of things, things that you're not sure are good considering what happened in the past.

When Kuroo answers next, you almost swoon right out of your chair. His voice dips into a murmur, one so raw and throaty it turns your insides to mush:

"Because I think you deserve some kindness."

"So," your forehead creases as you attempt to decipher his words, "do you pity me, then?"

“No, well—maybe a little, at first,” he catches himself, cheeks suddenly blazing full pink under your gaze, “obviously, it’s hard not to sympathize when I see a single mother doing her best for her daughter.”

“Surely I’m not the only single mother in that entire school.”

“No, but you’re different,” Kuroo’s eyes fill with warmth, “and also, not all parents are as kind as you are."

"That's not really--"

“You’d be surprised,” Kuroo cuts you off with a raised brow, “don’t be so naive, Kosuke-san. People aren’t as nice as you might make them out to be,” his eyes lock on yours, “but you are.”

You look away and swallow thickly, “yeah— I suppose.”

His hand is still on your knee. One part of you wants to move away. The rational part screaming that this shouldn’t be appropriate at all. Yet another bigger part of you is squealing in delight in hopes that he never takes it off.

You don't know which part of your brain you wish to turn off and trample on until it's just an afterthought in your subconscious.

Thankfully, the waiter approaches and Kuroo's hand drops away from your skin. He insists on paying the bill despite your best efforts and even goes as far as to drive you back home in his beat-up truck.

"Thank you," you mumble as you spot your front door, void of any activity now that Sakura's at her father's. It's always like this; lonely nights, with thoughts of what-ifs trickling through the back of your brain like a never-ending stream of water that gets muddied the more time passes. You understand and are happy that she at least has a father who wants to be in her life. That's the least you could've asked for from your ex-- well, soon to be ex-husband once you sign that darned paper -- but it's the thought of the other woman that makes you sick in the stomach. Jealousy churns like an ache that spreads and knots and tightens. What if Sakura likes her stepmom better? What if the other woman gives her everything she wants, everything she needs without batting a single eyelid?

You're so caught up in your own head that you barely hear Kuroo's murmur, until he's calling out your name from the driver's seat.

You quickly spin your head towards his, a guilty smile curving across your lips, "sorry, I got lost in my head for a second," you chuckle in hopes that it will dissipate the sudden tension filling the vehicle, glancing out of your apartment complex and glad that, for once, there's a bit of light flickering in the corridors.

"Thanks for bringing me home," you tell him.

"Pleasure is all mine," Kuroo replies. His eyes are on you though, as if reading right through you.

So you quickly try to dispel his worry by saying, "I'm just going to go up and rest. It's been quite a day and--"

"Do you--" he hesitates, purses his lips in thought, "do you want me to hang out for a while? Until you're sleepy and kick me out."

You're not too certain what to do except gawk at him. Which he takes as a cue that you might've twisted his words in the wrong way. For he quickly adds in a scramble of words, "Not--Not like you're inviting me over or anything. Just--I mean, as a friend. I just--I could keep you company."

His words echo in the silence and something in your heart swells at the kind gesture. Kuroo says that you're kind, but he clearly doesn't see how much effort he does for you. And here he is, sitting there looking bashful and embarrassed about asking to keep you company. Your heart melts a little and you agree, showing him the way to the guest parking.

Just as a friend, you try to tell your heart, just as a friend. And nothing else.

-----

If someone had asked you, a few weeks ago, whether Kuroo was a fine catch. You'd probably answer yes and move on with your day.

But now, your life seems so entwined with his that you're not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing.

After your little outing a few weeks ago where he'd decided to keep you company in the dark hours until the very early morning, you'd seemed to have crossed a bridge that you cannot back-pedal no matter how hard you try. If you close your eyes, you can still imagine the vivid picture of the two of you; first at the kitchen table sharing a glass of wine as you kept babbling about random stories and tales from your childhood, before you'd finally landed on the couch playing a crazy game of Mario kart, courtesy of Aoi's mistake of having forgotten his Switch when he'd first decided to move out.

You'd never had so much fun in so long that you'd almost cried yourself to sleep that night, right after Kuroo had stumbled out of your flat. He'd blatantly refused your couch as guest room, saying that staying over would just be more of a hassle when he had early classes the next morning.

But that doesn't stop him from seeing you when he can. Nor you him. And it's become something of an addiction.

He drops by every week now whenever Sakura's gone to her father's place. These nights are spent playing scrabble, watching reruns of Harry Potter like the nerds you are, and holding conversations that run longer than you'd expect them to. It seems like routine for Kuroo to clock out around one in the morning and every time he does walk away and disappear down the corridor, something in your heart clenches at his absence.

The flat does feel a little too lonely once Kuroo's gone. But you'd never tell him that small fact.

Today he's come around a little earlier than usual, due to a special meeting between teachers and parents that the school had organised. He's busy playing house with Sakura while you're preparing the pizza base for your night in, something that you hadn't done since--well, ever since Aoi had moved out actually. But now, you're even humming to imaginary music and glancing at the living room couch where Kuroo is currently giving a full-on review about Sakura's imaginary cooking skills.

Your heart swells tenfold and you swear the sight makes you cry. It's what you crave for, it's what Aoi had done for you once, for your family. Before he'd decided that you weren't good enough and had moved on to someone else.

"--perfect combination of sweet and spicy. I think I'mma gives this Mac and cheese a perfect ten out of ten," Kuroo was saying just as the front door rang.

You went to open it, wiping your hands down the front of your jeans before unlocking the door.

The sight of Aoi always made your heart sink and your stomach churn.

But not today. Today, your heart barely acknowledges him and you think it's good progress. You even go as far as give him a smile, "hey Aoi."

"Hi Y/N," he keeps glancing behind your back and you're pretty certain why; it's the sight of Kuroo with his daughter, probably, that unnerves him.

Your suspicions are proved right when he mutters, "what's he doing here again?"

It's low, like a grumble, so that only you can hear it in this vicinity.

You straighten, "he's my friend. He's spending the evening with me today."

"Like he's been doing every week?"

"Yes," you raise a brow, prop a hand on your hip, "is that a problem?"

"I have one problem, yes," Aoi scowls back, "why is he spending time with our daughter like he deserves it?"

"Why is that a problem? Do you not let--what's her name again? Josie? Jodie? -- do you not let her play and spend time with Sakura?"

"It's Judy, and she's going to be my wife, Sakura's stepmother," Aoi hisses and you can't help but flinch, "don't you think you're just making it harder for Sakura? It's been bad enough with the divorce and everything--"

What? You chuckle and that ignites into a laugh so hollow and void of emotion that Aoi flinches, "excuse me?" the nerve of this man. Your voice hardens, "I'm the one making it harder for Sakura? Tell me Aoi, who's the one who left?"

"I left because I was unhappy--"

"So was I!" you suddenly spit out, anger rising through you. You don't care that Kuroo can hear you now. Well, you should care that Sakura's witnessing one of the many fights you will have with her father. But you can't take it. Not all this belittling.

Not when you're finally feeling something other than this overwhelming grief that plagues you and breaks you into tiny pieces every time you look at that fucking darned document.

Your knuckles shake so hard you have to tighten them into fists that you glue to your sides.

You continue, "I was unhappy and guess why? It was all because of you! Because you always had something--you barely spent time with us after Sakura was born and--and we barely talked! You didn't want to talk. Heck, you made sure to steer clear of me whenever we were in the same darned house," your voice rose with each sentence, the clench in your stomach finally unleashed after restraining it, holding it in for Sakura's sake.

"But I endured. I endured it, because we had a daughter. We had a child, and goddamn it I was responsible enough to think of her first, and not myself," you snarl, for once glad that Aoi seems at loss for words, almost panicked, "and--what? You're lecturing me about making it hard for her? About being selfish?" you snicker and spread your arms wide, "look around Aoi. You know who's responsible for this mess, and it's definitely not me."

The silence that follows your little monologue is so heavy and laden with emotion that nobody dares break it. Even Sakura has stopped talking, though you don't know what's happening behind your back, wanting to keep your eyes on that fucking bastard and end this, once and for all.

When Aoi does nothing to answer -- because what's he going to say when you're right?-- you swivel, go to retrieve the signed divorce papers atop your kitchen table you've been dutifully ignoring until now, and storm back to him.

"And here," you thrust the papers at him so suddenly he shrieks as he grapples with the folder, "you can take your damned divorce papers. I don't need them, and I don't need you."

And before Aoi can say anything else, you've slammed the door in his face.

Bang.

Silence.

You can hear a pin drop.

You're heaving, chest rattling with every breath, gaze fixated on the door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It's the relief that sweeps in first, through the cracks of anger that slowly melt away.

And then, realisation that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, grief.

It hits you like a truck.

Everything you've worked for. Everything you had lost.

You're not sure when your body decides to crumple to the ground, just that there are warm arms to catch you this time before a soft baritone echoes through the side of your head, through your chest and making you want to cry.

Kuroo is talking, and somewhere in-between the lines of numbness and pain you make sense that he wants to take Sakura out for a bit, just enough time for you to recollect your thoughts. You're so lost in your own thoughts that he has to repeat a question twice for you to snap to attention.

"Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to go? Up to you, anything that makes you happy."

Kuroo is babbling, but the fact that he even asks you for what you want, for once, makes your chest ache with terrible sweetness. You don't deserve him in any shape or form.

You nod, and Kuroo takes it as a good sign, for he prompts, "what do you want me to do Y/N?"

As if on impulse, his hand pushes stray hairs away from your face. The action is gentle, kind. Almost loving.

Almost.

"Take her out," you manage to mumble, "please, Kuroo. I--I don't want her to see me like this."

"Got it." And Kuroo's off, scooping up Sakura with a playful tone, distracting her from the mess that you are huddled over in the corner of the living room as he shoves his shoes on and strides out of the flat so that all is left is you, the echo of silence that remains, and the feelings lying in the pit of your stomach.

-----

It's some time later that you hear the lock twisting in the door. You've managed to pull yourself together by then, finishing up the pizzas so that they're warm and fresh out of the oven. Sakura's footsteps echo against the wooden floor as she runs over to you.

"Mum!"

You force a smile. It comes a little easier when you see your daughter so excited, "hello, you," you coo. She slams her entire body right into your mid-section and your arm wraps around her, "how was the walk with Kuroo-sensei?"

"We saw ducks! And--And Kuroo-sensei let me play on the swings. He even pushed me so that I went up high!" Sakura's chubby finger pointed towards the ceiling to show just how high it was, and you chuckled before hugging her close. Feeling the warmth of her small body against yours is something you'll never really get over. It's like she fits and moulds right into the crevices of your broken parts to make them whole again.

Your eyes travel over to the said young man in question who's been responsible for so much of her happiness, and you soften, "thank you," you mouth to him over the kitchen counter.

He shakes his head and sends you a smile. It melts your insides, warming your tummy and instantly causing your cheeks to flush bright red.

You look away with a sharp swallow, "I've made something that looks like dinner," you propose tentatively, "if you'd like to stay."

You don't look at him as he strides over, big steps closing the gap between the front door and the dining table. He shrugs off his coat in the process, "I'm always in for food."

It would be stupid of you to think that such a normal dinner routine might make Kuroo forget all about what happened a little earlier. But it's the way his eyes search your face when he thinks you're not looking, the way the concern swims in his entire demeanour, like he's not sure whether he can completely relax yet.

Part of you is more than horrified by this turn of events. You don't want Sakura's sports coach thinking you're an unsuitable parent, nor do you want him to know about your personal matters considering he's a bit too close to home. It's embarrassing and humiliating and every time you meet his eyes by accident across the table you make sure to look away as quickly as you can.

The other, more selfish part of you, though, is suddenly relishing in the warmth that Kuroo's presence brings to the flat. And you can't help but crave for more, despite knowing this is not what's best for you and your little girl.

After all, even if Kuroo did think of you that way -- which he doesn't by the way -- he'd be tied down with a liability that's too hard to bear when it's not your own child.

Cleaning up after dinnertime in silence, Kuroo volunteers to take charge so that you can put Sakura to bed. You send him an apologetic smile, quickly going through the bedtime motions with your daughter before you can tuck her into bed.

"Mum," Sakura's voice is merely above a whisper as she cuddles into her blanket. The sight is so cute, it makes your heart swell and you resist the urge to coo, "Are you okay Mum?"

You pause, hiss in a breath.

What are you supposed to tell her?

What exactly are you supposed to say?

You manage to choke out a soft, "I'm alright."

"Is Papa okay?"

"Yes," your heart breaks a little more. You barely manage to murmur, "yes he's okay sweetie. Just--It's been a hard time."

"Why Mum?"

You don't know what to say, so you opt for pushing her hair away from her face, "well, sometimes adults face difficult decisions. And those decisions ...they hurt us. Sometimes."

"Did Papa hurt you today?"

Tears well at the corner of your eyes but you refuse to sniff, refuse to show her that you're as battered and beaten as what your heart says.

"No sweetie, he didn't--he would never hurt me, or you. Because he's your Papa and he--he loves you very much."

"Does he really?"

"Yes," you wrap your arms around her in a hug, hoping that this will dissipate all her queries, all her suspicions of her father, "yes he does. He really does love you. A lot."

From the depths of your arms, you hear your daughter's soft echo of, "okay."

It takes more than just a few minutes for Sakura to doze off. But you tuck her in gently when she does, rearranging the blankets around her frame before slowly backing out of the room. You find Kuroo still at the kitchen sink with your supposed apron around his waist, and the sight of him -- so domestic, like he's been living here all along -- makes you want to cry all over again.

"She's asleep?" Kuroo's voice causes your shoulders to jump. You nod and walk over to where he stands, taking note of the amount of dishes left.

"Thank you," you gesture towards the squeaky clean plates hanging off to dry, "it's all good now, I'll take over--"

Kuroo throws you a look and tuts, "sit down. I'm gonna make us some tea."

"But--"

"Kosuke-san," the dip between his brows deepen, "go sit down."

It's non-arguable and you let out a soft sigh of defeat as you pad over to the couch, grumbling something incoherent under your breath. Does he have to be so perfect at everything? It's almost like living in a fairytale dream.

Or is he just being nice because he wants something out of you?

A shudder suddenly makes its way up your spine and you shake your head, ridding yourself of all negative thoughts. No, he won't do that, your brain chides, he's not like that.

He's not like Aoi.

"Here."

You look up to find none other than the said man settling down beside you, nudging a cup of what seems to be hot water into your hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I couldn't quite find your tea. Your place is a bit like a labyrinth."

"Yeah that's what happens when you have a toddler," you grimace, "but thank you. I do appreciate--" you hesitate, a small smile flickering across your lips, "hot water."

Kuroo chuckles, "right? It was made with love."

You sip on your hot water as a comfortable silence settles over you, with only the hum of the fridge and distant cars from afar filling the room. The weight of all your troubles are finally getting to you, making your body sluggish as it succumbs to the comforts of your pillows.

"Kuroo sensei," you bite down onto your lower lip, before your eyes flutter up to his face to find that he's already been looking at you, "I--"

"It's Kuroo," he interrupts, "we're friends, right?"

You try to bite back your smile, "yeah. I suppose," your head dips back down to your lap, "I just--I wanted to say thank you. For everything. But...especially for today."

"Kosuke-san, I think it's fair enough to say that you were having a hard time," Kuroo answered, "I just did what I thought was right. And--also, not to be that person, but he didn't have to do it in front of his daughter."

"Yeah you're right," you sigh, "well, that's Aoi for you. Selfish, self-centred, always wants what's best for himself."

There's a moment for the words to digest in the air. You sip on your hot drink, not wanting to meet Kuroo's eyes for fear of what you'll find there.

If you had any doubts about Kuroo questioning his interest for you, that had to be long gone by now. Nobody in the world wanted someone who already had baggage, and a physical baggage that would forever be a reminder of your past.

The truth hurts. It punches you straight in the gut.

You suck in a sharp breath, loathing yourself for even thinking about it. For even entertaining the idea.

But then, Kuroo asks you a question. One that instantly breaks down your walls no matter how much you fight it.

"Are you alright?"

You can't help it.

You break.

It's as if all tears once bottled up are suddenly let loose. Pressing your hands up to your face to muffle your cries, you feel Kuroo's arms wound around you again, pulling you insistently to his chest despite your best tries at resisting. But he's warm and for once in your life you don't feel like fighting, which is how you find yourself sobbing into his shirt, hands gripping it tight like he might disappear at any given moment.

All that time, Kuroo merely lets you cry, one hand smoothing over the back of your head while he presses his cheek against your temple.

"Shh," he keeps murmuring into the shell of your ear, "it's okay. It's going to be okay."

Some time later finds you in his arms, practically cuddled up to his chest and your cries reduced to mere sniffles. Kuroo has leaned back onto the couch so that you're resting against him, soft curves pressed to his firm ridges and hands absentmindedly running through your hair in a way that makes your eyes flutter with the heaviness of sleep.

It's comfortable. Too comfortable you might just fall asleep here.

Kuroo dares to peek at your face, noticing that you're staring off into space.

Your phone suddenly buzzes from your pocket, startling you out of whatever daydream you'd concocted. Quickly fishing it out of your pant pocket, you unlock the screen only to find Atsumu's message.

Atsumu: I suppose you're with Mr. Hotshot? Any chance of getting laid tonight? ;)

Your face colours right when you feel Kuroo's chest vibrate with a laugh.

You quickly whip the phone away from his view, "y--you're not supposed to read other people's texts!"

Your heart is practically cartwheeling at this point and you swear you feel sweat dot your hairline as Kuroo throws his head back with even more laughter.

You scowl at him, "what's so funny?!"

"Nothing, oh--god, nothing at all," he can't seem to control himself, shaking his head with a grin so wide it makes the sight adorable for some unknown godforsaken reason. He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to calm down, "I just--oh man Atsumu. Do tell me more."

"Like I said, it's rude to read other people's texts," you snap.

"Oh I'm sorry, you opened it in front of my face though," Kuroo's grin is so wide that it frustrates you to no end. But before you can shove him away, his hold tightens as he pins you closer.

Your eyes widen, fluttering up to meet his golden brown pupils in surprise. He's warm, and firm, and just about as delicious as you had imagined. It makes your stomach knot, makes you slightly dizzy as you get a whiff of his deodorant--something musky, something that smells just like him.

When he speaks next, his voice has dropped two octaves.

"So how long were you going to keep it a secret from me?"

His murmur sends a chill up your spine. Your hands, not knowing what should be done with them, curl along his shirt.

Your eyes find a blank spot in the middle of his chest, "it's...not a secret. It's just a--a joke. Of some sort."

"A joke?" his smirk widens, "well share it with me too."

"It's none of your business."

"Pretty sure you made it my business by opening it in front of me."

Oh god. You can't even stop your heart from beating so loudly it's like a hummingbird. You're pretty certain Kuroo can hear it. "I--uhm--"

Your brain tries to scramble for words. But it's impossible. Not when he's so close. Definitely not when he's looking at you like that. With those eyes.

"Something tells me you've been holding out on me."

"Not at all."

You're still very adamant on averting your eyes. But his hand finds your chin, tilting it up until you have no choice but to look straight into those beautiful swirls of golden shimmering with amusement and what seems to be -- tenderness? Affection?

"Tell me," his murmur is raw, throaty. Like warm, melted chocolate.

You take a soft breath. Your chest constricts. It's impossible to breathe.

"Atsumu," you start in a shaky whisper, "he thinks--" you swallow, "he thinks that we might have... a--a thing."

"A thing?" his arm laced around your middle tightens slightly, "what makes him think we might have a thing?"

"Well I don't know, I--' god, is this supposed to be this hard? To admit that you have a small crush? You suck in air in-between your teeth as you bite the inside of your cheek, turn your head away, "I guess I talk a lot about you."

He hums in reply, "I like the sound of that."

And with another tug at your chin your eyes have no choice but to lock on his. There's a softness there in those beautiful pupils flecked with long, drawn out eyelashes.

""The sound of what?" you blink.

"Us having a thing," Kuroo's hand seems to find it fun to caress up and down your hipbone. His touch is searingly warm against your skin, "you talking about me, you blushing because of it."

"Well don't be so full of yourself," You huff out, "you're a good friend, and I'm grateful--"

"Y/N."

Woah.

You've never imagined the sound of your name falling from his lips. But here it is, laced with some kind of attentiveness, with some sort of affection that makes you weak at the knees and causes warmth to drip to your lower belly.

Your lips part. But you find you can't seem to formulate words. He continues, "I like you, not just as a friend. I think you're brave, incredibly kind, smart--"

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kuroo frowns, "I--What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know," you're starting to panic, pulling away slightly in the process, "that's what I'm asking you."

"Well I--" a small chuckle echoes past his lips, "I guess what I'm trying to do is ask you out."

"Oh." the words take a few seconds to register in your brain.

Oh.

"Oh." you repeat like an idiot. Oh shit.

He's actually serious.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

"Uhm--" your throat has suddenly gone so dry that nothing seems to come out of It no matter how hard you try.

Kuroo just lets out a small laugh before his hand goes up to push a few stray hairs out of your face, "cat got your tongue?"

"Kuroo-sens--I mean, Kuroo--" you try to stutter out through the butterflies rippling through your chest at his gentle action, "It's not that simple, I--I have a daughter. It's a responsibility. A liability. And I'm no casual dater, I'm more of a long-term relationship type of girl."

"And?"

"And there's absolutely no reason for you to like me other than as a friend, because I have baggage. I'm not a single woman, I'm on the brink of a divorce and I have a four--almost five year old -- always running around," you realise you're babbling but it's impossible not to, especially not with him looking at you like that, "trust me, that's probably the last thing you want--"

"When I say I like you," Kuroo murmurs, "I mean all of you. And that includes Sakura."

"You don't mean that, until you actually experience--"

"I do mean it."

You shake your head, "Kuroo I--"

"Can I just take you out?" There's a slight note of desperation in his tone. In a smooth motion, the hand twined around your waist slips up to your hand, thumb drawing soft circles over your wrists as his eyes pin you down with an intensity that makes you want to squirm, "just one date. That's all I ask."

Your immediate response is no. Because why would you? You're literally just getting out of a relationship. The last thing that you want is another of these holes that you'll take months to recover from. And what if Kuroo decides you're not what he wants after all? He's younger than you, dashingly handsome, and can get whoever he wants in this entire world.

So why you?

But as soon as you open your mouth to tell him no, your thoughts fly back to this afternoon; the way he'd cared for Sakura when you were having a mental breakdown, the way he'd cradled you in his arms like you were fragile porcelain, the way he hadn't hesitated the moment you'd asked for help.

Even back then, Aoi hadn't taken charge this way. Aoi hadn't even bothered. And so you'd gotten used to not asking. To do things all by yourself.

Looking back into those golden-hued eyes makes you hopeful. And that's the worst thing that can happen to you, hope. But still, it's impossible to say no when Kuroo's gazing down at you so fondly. Like you're the only thing holding his world together. like he'd do anything to be with you.

So you say yes.

[archrries]

Asking my mom about her disability so I can give you all pretty accurate information on Viktor o7

She has post-polio, and has a leg brace like he does. So for all your "could Viktor do this?" questions, I go to my mother ♡ He most likely has a combination of things, but definitely seems to have post-polio. So yes, other things could stop him from these activities but overall, this is a swing at how it works for this aspect of his life.

What I know as of now about Viktor, most likely,

- could skateboard

- could drive a motorcycle

- drive a car (has to use good leg to press on pedals)

- does NOT sleep with the leg brace on

- dead silent when he takes the brace off

- my mom played sports that involved throwing more than running (softball (pitcher), volleyball, she did try out for football at some point but the coach didnt want a girl trying out)

- sigh...yes...he can do the deed without breaking a fucking hip. He isnt made of glass. Im not going into detail on this one thanks

- roller skating

- shoot a gun (idk why this is debated)(also though i will say that for some guns, the kick is too strong. The entire body is effected by polio, its just most severe in some parts like his leg)

- ice skating!!! I know this is a hot debate, she has gone ice skating

Ill ask my mom about more if you have any specific questions 👍

More info edit:

My Mom's leg has unfortunately gotten worse, which is nothing new considering it's been worsening her entire life, but this means her heel bone is now digging through the skin and muscle of her foot. She will be getting surgery to shave the bone down and hopefully that will help her to walk better on it again once it's healed. Take that as you will in reference to Viktor and his worsening condition. She has told me several times that she is in a lot of pain, which she typically does not vocalize.

- can carry kids around for short periods of time (she babysits my nieces and nephews constantly)

- can HAVE kids for that matter (for all your trans and mpreg needs 😭) though this certainly was a toll on her body even back when she was younger

- maybe this is just specific to her but every single time something gets mentioned that could even POSSIBLY be polio, she gets worried. I mentioned my little cousin being sick and suddenly not able to walk on her own (she is doing okay right now, no pain) and she instantly asked if she had drunk any dirty water (where polio is most commonly found) She freaked when my sister was born with a little wonky leg even though it's 1) not passed down from mother to child and 2) fixed itswlf within a month. All my siblings were immediately vaccinated for polio as well as other major things, though she gets very nervous about new vaccines because she got it from the polio vaccine which contained the live virus at the time (no longer used) She did not want me vaccinated for covid or HPV because of this worry.

- When she gets sick, she gets sick BAD. Last time she was sick, she was in a fever state for three days and doesn't remember a single thing.

- Fear of death, judgement, or being arrested has never really affected her. She has a DNR (which I'm not a fan of, but I understand if shit goes wrong, she doesn't want to be resuscitated just to experience way more pain), she's always lived on the crazy side but stopped once she had kids (I mean used to ride her motorcycle like she was trying to speed run death), always tells me I need to stop caring what people think cause she stopped giving a shit early on with all the bullying, she has in fact pulled a gun on a man for hurting me and the ONLY reason I think she didn't pull that trigger is because there was someone else in the way, she actively encourages cops, security, etc to try and stop her when it comes to the safety of her family (she most recently started shit with staff because my nephew broke his arm at school and no one will tell her what happened)

- She handles her farm pretty much alone. Chickens, ducks, goats, sheep, rabbits, turkeys. And I'm so sorry to say they are both long term and short stay animals....We only name pets. Anything without a name is sent to freezer camp 😭

- Which leads me to tell you she is a butcher, and has always hung up meat and quartered it herself. She also hunts, so she does it with venison too. Plus we try and use as much of the animal as possible as to respect it. So that's butchering, tanning hides, cleaning off bones, making twine.

- She loves to lie about what happened to her leg. Her favorite for kids is that she's a cyborg or a transformer. Most adults just assume military and she doesn't tell them otherwise. She used to tell ppl for a while that she jumped out of one of the towers on 9/11.......💀 crazy since she was born and raised in New York

[daylighted]

Can you do a drabble for Number 67?

absolutely anything 4 u and them. esp bc i have NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT IT. I SWEAR. am just locking tf in to wrap up s1 before i start posting them again <3 i forgot this was in my drafts bc i thought it was buried in my inbox bc im a lil idiot ok. so sorry </3 pls take this as forgiveness.

this is also something canon that will happen eventually down the line, so u are all basically getting exclusive content rn hehehe.

the stanford cheer squad were incredible people, hosting a car wash to fundraise for the education of less fortunate children. you were incredible, and you knew it, having been the one to bring up the idea to the team captain yourself.

it was something you were passionate about, considering how hard you were working for your nursing degree, and how much of your own childhood was spent wishing for the same opportunities that the other kids got. that wish grew into a dream — pediatric nursing.

expectedly, the turnout was insane. people were so passionate about education for the youth of today. they were so passionate that they'd bring their freshly washed car back again into the open parking lot the team hosted it in.

hey, whatever you had to do, right? the money was racking in, and the pipe dream to help kids like you get more of a chance to get where you were without needing to sacrifice as much as you did was becoming a reality.

pour some sugar on me plays on the stereo propped on a foldout chair in the back. you were one of the sign girls, drawing the cars in from the campus streets and handling the cash intake.

adeline was on the other side of the tall sign. it was nice to have your sorority big sister cheering, too. you weren't yet close with a lot of the other girls, so having someone you knew you liked and that liked you made times like this, when the girls paired off to the assigned tasks, feel a lot less intimidating.

"lots of honks," she says idly, letting her arms and the sign fall in front of her, "but not a lot of people comin' in anymore."

you hum, pointing out a fancy black car a couple of miles away, just pulling into the parking lot. "they look like they'd be into a car wash."

adeline's eyes narrow in on where you're pointing, a little huff of laughter bubbling out of her mouth. "oh, the cardinal's two golden boys? sure."

surely that wasn't dean and taylor. adeline had an easier view, closer to the road they were driving on than you were by only a few feet, but you'd be able to recognize dean anywhere. surely that wasn't him, and his roommate, and that couldn't have been his car.

you watch it roll in — just in time to see the car jerk to the right in the direction of the car wash.

adeline's laugh brightens. "god, it is! of course they're comin' in." she turns over to you, eyebrows raised up. "you and dean are always in each other's orbit."

your face goes a little pink, and you let your arms fall now too to properly shoot her a glare. "shut up." you didn't even like dean like that. yeah, he was the first proper friend you'd made, if you didn't count the other two cheer girls you'd met during sorority rush. that didn't mean anything like what adeline implied. in fact, you'd tell her that. "taylor's prettier, anyways. don't you think?"

"taylor king is a pig." she rolls her eyes, a fond smile curling at the corner of her lips that gives way any irritation. "he's makin' his way through the cheer roster. don't let him put a cherry red notch in his belt."

the car slows to a stop outside of the giant makeshift sign entrance of the car wash. the driver's side window rolls down, and sure enough, you're met with dean winchester's pretty green eyes. "is it fifteen per car or per person?"

that was your proof that you and dean were not orbiting each other. no hello, no nice to see you; he was straight to the point around his friends. you just didn't seem to make the cut. "per car." you slip the sign between your knees, hand extended for the cash taylor was blatantly swinging in your direction. "though i could make it per person for you guys. because you're football."

"harsh," taylor interjects from the passenger seat, giving up on reaching across dean and tossing the loose bills. "oh no... now you have to bend down and pick them—" he's cut off by an elbow straight to the ribcage.

"ignore him." dean picks up the bills in his lap, handing them out to you. "i was askin' just so i could make him pay for me, too. he tried to kill us gettin' over here once he saw the sign."

taylor's face scrunches up in befuddlement, slapping dean over the forehead. "yeah i did. boobs, dean. fuckin' tits." he catches the elbow dean tries to reem him with again. "hell no was i letting this chance pass me by."

dean, to his credit, looks a little sheepish about all of this. you, to your credit, were very good at ignoring it. he was getting picked on enough, and you didn't want any excuse to start thinking that dean liked you enough to care about what you thought about him.

"drive on through," you say, bypassing dean's gaze to hold taylor's stare as you shove the wad of cash in your cropped white stanford tee. you expect it to break taylor's act, but all he does is break into a wolfish smile. taylor king may have been a pig, but he was so pretty.

dean inches forward, forcing the eye contact between the both of you to break. finally, a reprieve from the intensity that was the lineman and the quarterback's attention all at once.

short-lived relief, because taylor's ass is planted on the rolled down window on his door's frame, his head and shoulders visible above the top of the car. "how much for you to wash the car?" he shouts to you, his grin nearly ear to ear now.

you shake your head, laughing, your hands held up in surrender. "you offering to donate more?"

"babygirl, i'd donate a kidney for this."

adeline's eyes meet yours from her place at the edge of the ovehead sign. the whole point of the dynamic between big and little was that she was supposed to guide you. she'd done great so far, making the transition so much easier than it could have been.

you didn't want to be another notch on taylor's belt. you also didn't really want to test the line that existed between you and dean. but there were greater things than flimsy college relationships. a little extra money toward something more meaningful had its sacrifices, and you were more than willing to make them.

"fifty bucks and i'll wash this car all by myself," you finally answer, handing off your sign to kristen as you saunter up to the rest of the girls. kristen's protests are lost to you, and die off anyways when she realizes that neither of the boys in the newest car to join the lot of soapy ones are looking at her. they're looking at you. "extra soapy."

taylor visibly begins to fumble around in his varsity jacket pockets, but you're only paying attention to him in your peripheral vision. your eyes are back on dean, his expression unreadable.

"you're trouble," he mouths, shaking his head, the little dimples in his cheeks giving way to his amusement.

maybe he did care what you think. and maybe you cared what he thought, too. that's why you couldn't help but give into this, and also why you couldn't keep giving in after this. there had to be a line. there had to be something stable, or else everything would shatter.

you take the cash from taylor as you circle around dean's car and up to the speaker. you grab the ipod connected to it, flipping through the saved songs until you land on cherry pie by warrant.

it was hard to see if the line in the sand between you and dean was broken or crossed through the soapy water all over the windows and the windshield. it wasn't hard, though, to figure out which pair of eyes watched you the hardest through the haze of the glass.

────────────────────────────────────────────

notes. cherry pov <3 hope u guys enjoyed PLS i missed the stanford!dean universe SOOOOO SOO SOOOO BADLY.

tags. @whyyouegg @sthefferrete @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @mccartneyqp @depressionbarbie2023 @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @honeyryewhiskey @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @reynas13 @momoewn @deanswidow @jasvtsc @figthoughts @beausling @sunsettsam @aileenunfiltered @samslvrgirl @globetrotter28 @urfavpisces95 @rubyvhs @hollywoodxrose @imsiriuslyreal @bluemerakis @angels-silhouette @tortureddarkstar @tristimith

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[oksana-moods]

All Too Well

Summary: Natasha tried to mend what's left broken. Because no matter what, she's the love of your life and she knows all too well.

A/N: It's been forever. This 5k piece felt like I was writing 300k, it was difficult, funny, hard and I miss doing this more often. I hope you guys like it and please, it be amazing for me to know your thoughts about it.

You can read it as One Too Many part 2 or as a single piece, it is up to you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, mentions of death, alcohol, angst (you know how I am, I can't simply write people kissing without suffering before).

"Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place"

The gun pointing at your face barely meters away should be intimidating, but at this point no one would blame you for not caring anymore. And you didn’t even mean the last couple of days, no, your whole life had been a fight, a struggle, an act of survival after another, so the last few days were nothing but the same blur.

The gunpower inundated your nostrils and the pungent smell masqueraded the smell of blood that clung to your brain and you were sure you wouldn’t erase it even if you got out of your current establishment.

Your heightened senses were capable of decerning all the different blood samples available in your cell: yours and from other occupants that came before you, or the blood that belonged to some of your kidnappers, who’ve learned in the worst possible way that you were not to be underestimated.

Back to the gun, the man behind it kept enchanting the same questions and you wondered how long it would take for them to get tired of your silence or mock replies. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you look up to meet his eyes, another man behind you was forcefully pulling your hair down to force your head up and you were already tired of him doing this.

“Where are the others?” The man with the gun asked, patience waning thin. Good to know you were on the same page. “Where is Romanoff?”

A blooded grin made its way to your face after you spat on his shoe. “It’s funny you think I’ll tell you now after all you’ve put me through. Do you think I’m afraid of your bullet?” And you didn’t even mean the fact that you probably wouldn’t die if he decided to shoot anywhere else other than your head, but you did mean that you were not afraid of dying.

Actually, you were so tired that perhaps laying down cold wouldn’t be unwelcomed. There wouldn’t be any pain, your body wouldn’t try to heal only to get hurt again. You thought it would be refreshing.

Two steps and the man pressed the gun over your knee, and you already knew, his wicked grin grew wider when your body convulsed with pain even though you concealed your scream in muffled grunts by biting your lips so tide you tasted your own blood, again.

“Why don’t you make it easier for you? You tell me what I’ve asked, and I kill you fast.” He pulled a chair and got comfortable for he knew all too well you wouldn’t budge easy. “I promise you. One silver bullet in your temple. Fast. Easy.”

Your eyes flashed to his. Silver bullets were really affective against your healing skills and very few possessed this knowledge. Someone must’ve tipped him off and the idea stung way much more than the powder burning the flesh inside your knee.

Only two women knew your weakness. Well, your creators knew, of course, but they were not in condition of speaking anymore. Unless someone from this organization was capable of going to hell to have a chat and then return to the living world with this intel.

Your love for Yelena was something so natural and it grew so fast for she was just deranged as you were: uncapable of functioning as what people labeled as normal. You were kindred souls and you felt like you were twins separated somewhere along the road and considering both of your past, who actually knew?

After long nights during long missions, you confided in her this. You were scared of losing control because sometimes the beast inside you took over and your brain couldn’t always sway the instincts. So you handed her one silver bullet in case things went south, she was adamant in returning it to you but you asked her to keep it, for insurance.

And the other person was Natasha. You never knew how she learned this but when she recruited you many, many years ago she already knew. If the pain in your leg wasn’t so overwhelming, you could’ve laughed at the memory engulfing your mind’s eye.

Her tide catsuit adorned with nothing but her black widow symbol, swaying her hips and pretending she wasn’t scared of the woman seated in front of her. You remember how her fear smelled, a stark contrast to her pose. You recall her words, her smile, her flirtatious play all to convince you to use your skills to her so called greater good.

And before leaving, she boldly closed the distance between you and placed a silver bullet in your hand. You understood the message. You weren’t stupid. Later she sworn that she was the only one, at S.H.I.E.L.D. or within Avengers, to know your weakness and you believed her.

And this belief comes back to bite you in the ass.

Because you knew full well that Yelena would die, she would kill herself even, before telling someone your secret. But Natasha? You didn’t trust her anymore. She had done it before, and you knew it all too well. If you were to be honest, after one too many treasons, you didn’t care about another.

Or so you told yourself.

“Good luck.” You rasped out after a long time inside your own head.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled that smile that told you he already knew what you would say. You would go further and say he was eager for it. “I think in the torture manual says I should tell you that I don’t enjoy this, but I’d be lying. We actually bet how long it will take for you to drop the act and start screaming.”

You bet no one thought it would be that fast. He stumped a knife down your thigh so fast and so hard you saw stars. You could feel the silver poisoning the skin and muscle where it was nested, and it burned like nothing else would.

Unfortunately for them, the apex in you was not used to be a prey and this injury was powerful enough to make your survival instincts kick in. It happened so fast it was a haze, one minute he was laughing, the other he was on the ground - lifeless, and just as the others came, they followed their leader – well, who you thought the leader was, at least.

Funnily, your countdown was wrong, or you were not the only one putting your captors down. As the blood ran free down your leg, your strength and capability of keeping fighting diminished. When a body collided with yours, it was a miracle you were still awake.

Her red hair framed her face perfectly, skin white as snow and her green orbs looked like there was an aurora borealis looking down at you as she nested you in her lap as you felt life slipping through your fingers - veins.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Her voice was strange, as if speaking was a struggle and she reeked fear, but not the same you were used to, as if she was feeling a different type of fear, it was a strange concept, but you hated it, nonetheless. If these were your last moments breathing, you wanted her true smell. The one you knew all too well.

“Please, don’t you dare die. I’ve got you.” Her muffled words found your ear, but it was hard to even comprehend anything at all when her lips felt so cold in your forehead. “Heal. Why are you not healing?”

“Silver.” It was all you could say. It was all you had to say.

She frantically started yelling at someone, perhaps the comms, but before you could close your eyes for good, you saw a red blur and he was complaining about your weight.

Her giggle filled the room as the first sun lights announced the day had just begun, you looked at her alarmed, for it was definitely something new. “Are you mocking me?” Enable to conceal a smile yourself.

“I’m not.” She denied, but her laugh told you differently. Her freckles painted her angelical face and her eyes looked like they held the sun captive. And you. And she knew, all too well. “It’s just I can’t believe you still have this scar.”

Her index finger traced said scar as she looked at you expectantly, waiting for your explanation, even though she already knew.

“I didn’t know Wanda’s necklace was made of silver, okay.” You finally replied, pulling her close to you as if her weight meant nothing, right in that moment this action felt so normal, so homely that it ached. “I thought I could take it from that heated place for her, but it burned me as I did. It was silly.”

She giggled again, though muffled by your shoulder this time, there was something new in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “It was cute. Silly, but cute. That necklace belonged to her mother.”

“I know.” You were locked in her eyes, and she stared at you as if she was trying to reach your soul, then you felt her fingertip leaving the palm of your hand to intertwine your fingers as she let her eyes stray to look at both of your hands.

The feeling was overwhelming. You were aware of how fast your heart was beating, you could only hope she couldn’t feel or hear it, for in that moment, all you wanted was to engrave the sight of you, together, and you wish you could just have this forever. Have her forever.

“I’ve never felt this before.” Her brows were furrowed in a way that made you upset, but you wouldn’t let go of her hand for nothing in this world, even if it was to soothe the crinkles in her forehead. “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was nothing that you could do but wait for your brain to register her words and meaning, for a whole minute you simply stared at her, trying to search for a catch or a joke but you found none. And she looked up at you so innocently that you found yourself believing in her.

“I thought-.” You tried, but she never let you finish your sentence.

“I know what I said.” She stopped you midsentence, but her voice was not stern, it was almost tired. “This is not what I feel anymore.” Again, her eyes found yours and the way they shone made your knees weak, luckily you were laying on her mattress.

Somehow, they conveyed so much of this feeling she had claimed she was not capable of nurturing that your stomach did somersaults. And right in that moment, you realized that perhaps silver could hurt you, but this woman was your true weakness.

Specially if she’s looking at you the way she was.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You whispered, it was terrifying saying again the three words that you were sure would make her fly away from this strange arrangement you found yourself in. Yet she didn’t.

“I know.” She confirmed after a while admiring your eyes as if she could read your mind. After deciding she was content with whatever she found, she leaned in and pecked your lips so tenderly it hurt.

Then, when she looked at you again you saw, from the small smirk growing in her lips, that she had gone back to play her prime character: the Black Widow.

“Let’s have a breakfast before the funeral, shall we?” As she got of the bad, you copied her movements going back to your own suitcase to find something comfortable as her voice broke the silence filling the room. “I never asked how you and Sharon became friends to the point you’d come to a funeral of her relative.”

The cleanliness of the room was the first thing you were aware of. In fact, you didn’t even realize you were awake, therefore alive, before the smell hit your nostrils. And with it, her scent.

The occasional up and down from her feet and bouncing leg was the only sound in the room except for the noise coming from the heart monitor over your head. She was anxious, that much was obvious even if you weren’t an enhanced being.

Mentally searching for your injuries and pain, you understood that whatever had happened with you, was all gone. Excluding the lingering pain in some specific places that you credited to silver induced wounds that would take way much more time to wear off.

However, considering the state you were in, whoever tended these wounds had operated a true miracle.

As you opened your eyes, you half expected bright lights, common to these hospital rooms to hurt your eyes, but you soon identified that the only source of light was a yellow bulb close to the door.

Natasha.

“Thanks for working the lights down.” You rasped out and stifled a giggle as she jumped from her chair by the wall and bolted to your bed side. The book previously nested between her hands now long forgotten on the floor.

The iron grip which she clutched your hand didn’t go amiss to you. “A week.” The sadness in her eyes was palpable. “A whole week blacked out.” She explained further but you didn’t need to know the details of how long you were sleeping or how many times your heart stopped at surgery.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Then it hit you, the same type of fear your nose caught when she found you in that facility, it was fear but not the one someone feels when they’re actively facing danger, but it was fear for someone else. Fear of losing someone.

Something stirred inside your heart, but it was something that you couldn’t dwell much longer, not, at least, in that moment.

“They had me, after you sent me as scout.” Your tone was flat, and her eyes widened a little at the bluntness of your accusation, though you were far from settling for little. “They knew about the silver.”

Her hold faltered, but your hand was still snuggled between hers. “What are you accusing me of?” She narrowed her eyes, but her green orbs were bright even in the poor light.

“Cynicism doesn’t suit you the way you think it does.” Before you could even pull back your hand, she completely let it go and got to her feet. “Look at my eyes and tell me that you actually didn’t let them get me, just to find their hideout.”

She had her back turned to you, acutely avoiding your gaze. “Look at me!” You demanded and she had the gall to look at you through her lashes, as if her seductive skills could help her now. You wouldn’t fall for that, and she knew it all too well.

“It wasn’t my intention for you to be captured and I never thought someone else would know about your weakness. I thought I was the only one alive to know.” She finally turned to you, eyes now darting around the floor as if it could grant her the answers she sought.

“Lena knows too.” You corrected her, but if she was surprised by your update, she never showed.

Shaking her head right to left as if to deny such possibility, she exclaimed. “She’d never do this to you.” It was funny that at least in this matter you agreed. “I think she loves you more than she loves me.” A sly smile escaped her lips and you had to restrain your heart from fluttering at the sight of it.

“I was waiting for your check-in. I went to your assigned coordinates, and I know I underestimated their numbers, but I would never let someone capture you.” Her feet dragged her back close to your bed but maintained some distance between you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shot back without missing a single beat, crossing your arms around your chest.

She sighed tiredly and looked down at the floor. You wouldn’t let her forget that she was the main cause for you to be locked in the Raft, well, her and your support for Steve when Ross tried to shove the Sokovian Accords down your throat, and solely because you shared his point of view.

After being controlled for most of your life by a group with shady intentions, you swore you’d never submit your loyalty and services to a third party again, even if it was a government group – specially a government group, actually, so only over your dead body you’d accept the Accords.

But when you came back to see if Natasha was fine, she had gone without thinking that you were left behind and in the care of Ross to be taken to the Raft with the others, without sparing a single thought to you.

“I’d never ever willingly put you in danger.” She said taking another step closer to you. “I have never mentioned to anyone about your secret, and I purposefully kept it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Her eyes kept darting from her hands to your eyes, never focusing, never staying too long. “Look, I know Yelena would never speak about it, but I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t, you must believe me!”

“I must?” Your eyebrows shot up so high so fast it hurt. “Well, you made it pretty damn hard for me to believe, don’t you think, Nat?” Your tone was hard, but you were not even speaking too loud.

Somehow, Natasha thought this hurt way much more.

“C’mon all I feel for you-” She tried to counter, but you wanted to swallow the lump stuck in your throat trying to choke you, so you cut her midsentence.

“Words, Natasha.” She found herself locked within your burning eyes. “I kept you as an oath, yet you hid me like another dirty secret. And all you’ve felt you kept hidden – buried – just as who you really are.”

After years thinking about how she lured and how she hurt you, you thought that maybe spatting what your relationship really was – a hidden lust, would make you feel better, would free yourself from her hold, but it didn’t.

After all, calling her unfair wouldn’t change how lonely she made you feel, how she took your happiness away whenever she drew herself back to her main character as she left you daydreaming about imaginary scenarios built in “what ifs”.

As your words found her ears, they settled heavily in her stomach. She knew she had massed up, she had hurt you many times, yet all she wanted was go back in time and erase all her wrongs and all the times she promised and never delivered.

She didn’t possess a time stone, though. There was nothing she could do about the past, however, she knew she couldn’t run from her mistakes anymore. If she wanted to start anew, she’d have to show she was different.

She wanted to, no, she needed you to understand that she was a whole new person because you’ve changed her. She didn’t want to hide anymore and for that she’d have to let go of her walls and be vulnerable. Truly vulnerable.

Funnily, she had played with her vulnerability before, being vulnerable just enough for people to lower their shields or masks so she could get what she wanted but this was something else entirely.

This time she wouldn’t act. She’d be vulnerable, at your mercy hoping she’d make it out alive on the other side. It was something new and it scared her, but losing you was scarier.

“I didn’t know you came back to check on Barton…” She tried weakly, knowing that this was a sore subject for the both of you. Each with your own views and reasons.

“I helped Clint, yes, but we went back looking for you. Yet, Ross was all we’ve found.” Your glare was cold, perhaps colder than ever. In the pit of her stomach, she knew she deserved it, she just wish you could move on with it.

“I was wrong, okay. Is that what you want to hear?” She snapped, though her voice was still in a low tone, eyes sad. And you hated it. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not going after you that day at the airport or at the Raft.”

Her eyes fell once more to your hands, she slowly nursed them in hers and this action was so soft, so hesitantly as if she was afraid of you taking it away; afraid of you shutting her down once more.

“I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t, and for that I’m sorry. But I- I wish we could try move on from this. I still have feelings for you.” As words flowed through her tongue, you watched as eyes portrayed a sincerity that you rarely saw within those forest green orbs.

Usually, they hid her true feelings or performed like an actress twisting her truths mixed with pieces of lies and characters she created through life until she herself was unaware of what was true or not.

“I hear you, Natasha.” You rasped out after a long moment lost inside her beautiful eyes. “You speak of things as you did before, yet you never act on it.”

Her hands were warm, a muted invitation to go back to your dreams of having a life with her. The only person who never showed any sign of fear about your nature, that never once treated you like an animal.

She never treated you like a woman either.

“I want you to show me.” Your stone-cold eyes punctuated your feelings in the matter at hand. If she wanted to have you back, she’d have to show you she’s changed for words could only take her so far.

“I will.” She vowed and smiled softly, though her heart was shattering inside her chest. She made a career making people believe in whatever she wanted, she supposed she’d be able to make you believe in her heart.

How hard would that be?

Laugh filled the room after another not-so-funny Tony’s jokes and your head throbbed as the sound echoed inside your skull. Parties like these were always a torture for you, after all, your enhanced abilities of hearing and catching smells better than a normal person proved to be really awful in a place full of people with different perfumes, scents, chattering and loud music.

However, Tony himself forbid you from leaving tonight for this was his engagement party and it would be rude to Pepper if you left too early. Deciding that indulging him was easier than arguing with him, you found a safe corner and pretended to enjoy whatever was going on.

Though, your sharp eyes, even though you tried hard, always wandered after a certain redhead and you could all but clench your jaw every time you judged someone got too closer for your comfort.

Jealousy clawed its way through your throat and even the best bourbon from the bar couldn’t help it. You knew you had no right, no claim, especially after your last conversation. Still, your heart acted on its own and made sure you’d regret your words and resolve.

Considering that you were one drink from scooping lower than ever for her, you abandoned your glass on a random table and vanished to the balcony in hopes the fresh air could help your head and brain.

The cars down the streets ran from side to side completely unaware of your inner turmoil as you pathetically looked down searching for answers you wouldn’t find there.

In fact, as your answers arrived at the balcony, you realized that her hills clicking the marble floor announced her before her perfume invaded your nostrils in waves as she moved closer and closer towards you.

“Tired of mingling?” She asked as she lined her body at the railing. Her red hair bobbed around her ears in meticulously designed waves and her dark maroon dress hugged her curves in all the nice places.

She was flawless.

As always.

“I think I might’ve break Sam with incredible five words.” You gave her a sly smile that she retributed with a smirk and a fake gasp.

“This is basically a whole speech.” She clicked her tongue playfully. “I think you’ve been around Tony just too much.”

You snorted a laugh and she let a broad smile paint her lips, content with herself for making you ease the pained expression adorning your face the whole evening.

Uncertenty hugged you like a cold blanket as you pondered your next words. As if rolling the dices in a game you were sure you’d end up losing, you turned to her and spoke. “You’re really beautiful tonight, Nat.”

Your heart fluttered as she fought back a smile trying to win her lips and looked down as if she wasn’t expecting your praise. She genuinely looked flustered by your words.

“Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. Well, I already praised your choice of suit, earlier.” She turned her body so now she was fully looking at you and you tried to remember how to properly breath. However, it was as if the air was composed of her scent.

You were intoxicated.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. “This is the first time we speak tonight.” You clarify. Truth be told you’ve been keeping a fair distance from her and funnily enough she didn’t make the effort to push you and your comfort space.

She did make it obvious that she was trying, though. She invited you out in front of people, she brought you coffee whenever you were reading in the garden in the morning or brought you a blanket when you were on the couch watching movies with Wanda.

Whenever you were called to a meeting, she worked the lights so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes that much. And, one day, she brought you the files they recovered from Hydra from the mission you were taken, and you both learned that one of your creators left behind a journal and there were a lot of dirty secrets down there. Including yours.

To be honest, she was really trying to show her true intentions, but you were still afraid that this was just for show, just a ploy for you to lower your guard and be disappointed after she return to her normal pattern of misleading.

However, the way she stood basking in the moon light looking at you like she was slowly sipped through the cracks of your determination of not giving in that easy.

Her soft smile was a sight to see, and you even forgot that you were waiting for her to reply. “Directly, yes. I sent a drink to you earlier.”

Then it clicked in your head. Your laugh was loud and very uncharacteristic of you, though Natasha simply stood there admiring your carefree stance, a rare occurrence.

Your mind traveled to a moment earlier that night when the waiter approached you with a drink in hand, stating that the lady had sent it to you complimenting your fine tailored suit. At the time, the way he vaguely waved in the direction of Agatha and other ladies, you thought that one of them had been the person.

Though if you thought harder about it, Natasha was at the bar in that moment, right behind said ladies.

“Now it made sense.” You grinned back at her and nodded your head softly. “Thank you for the compliment and the drink.”

“Of course.” She flashed on last smile and turned her body to admire the city bellow and you did the same. Though you found it hard to ignore her presence by your side. You could feel the heat emanating from her skin, her sweet scent still impregnating the air around you and you could hear her fast heartbeat. It was uncommon.

In a haste, you both turned towards each other and started to speak at the same time. A nervous laugh scaped your lips as you signaled for her to go on first. And she did.

She closed her eyes as one does when bracing for the impact, as if second-guessing her next step, but when she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt and no deceit. “I love you and it’s ruining my life not having you, knowing that I am the one who pushed you away.”

You were speechless by her blunt confession, specially because she never, ever, used the word love in such a direct sentence. She expressed her feelings before, yes, but always with an adore, in love with you once or twice, never this straight.

She took your silence as hesitancy and reached for your hand, she yearned for your touch and the closeness of the last weeks made her heart clench with longing. “I am asking for a chance to show you who I really am, and I, please, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I wish to make it up to you.”

Her eyes were pools of emotion and you had trouble in breathing with her so close now. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, the way I should’ve since the very first time I kissed your lips.” Her free hand caressed your cheek in such a tender way that you felt your knees weak.

She was definitely your true weakness.

You brain was haywire, short-circuiting with the lack of air and the sudden increase in your heartbeats. There she was. The woman you felt like you could love forever, offering you what you always wanted: her heart. For real this time. Not the hide and seek games you’ve been playing in the past.

She promised and have been showing changes, however, if you were to be honest, all she’d have to do was to come at you and say hi. If you were to be honest, she would always have your heart at her mercy.

Unable to form words and knowing that your silence was unnerving for her, as you saw her brows furrowing, you decided to answer her differently as you brought your hand to her own cheek and guided her lips to meet yours.

Her lips were soft as they used to be, and you could feel her body melting into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open when you broke the kiss and smiled softly at her. “I love you too, Nat.”

Smiling back at you, Natasha circled her arms behind your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and another. And another.

And you knew, all too well, that she wouldn’t stop soon.

taglist: @username23345; @afuckingshituniverse; @strangegardentaco; @waltermis (I know you didn't specifically asked to be tagged, but I am doing it, nonetheless, because if your rb - and because you sparked a fire in this. Thank you.)

[intheairton1ght]

rewatched dylann’s confession for the 100th time and:

even with his proven high verbal IQ, dylann struggled to explain the motive/goal behind his attack. it’s the first real opportunity he’s been given to go in depth about his beliefs, yet by the end of the 2 hours it’s still unclear what exactly he was advocating for. as educated as he was about white nationalism his beliefs don’t appear like they were totally solidified, like he’d been relying more on emotion than reason when it came to why he ‘had to do it’. it makes sense that he’d struggle in that setting considering he was being challenged for the first time ever, and his diagnoses (later identified) obv played a part, but you’d think someone so devoted to a cause would relay their ideas in a more straightforward manner.

i included examples of almost every time he was directly asked what his desired outcome was. i think the fact the interrogators had to ask him over & over again says a lot. he rarely stuck with a label and used a lot of non-committal language + there’s no specific call to action. it really does come across like he did it because he felt like had to.

excerpts:

15:06

FBI: so basically you were trying to make a statement or prove a point on behalf of the white race, is that what you’re saying?

DSR: yeah, in a way, i guess.

32:45

DSR: i’m not delusional. i don’t think, you know, that something like what i did could start a race war or anything like that, you know, but…

FBI: but i mean, would you like that?

DSR: well a race war would be terrible, you know, people dying all the time… i’d rather just, you know, be able to reinstate segregation or something like that, you know, without there having to be a race war.

[1 second later]

DSR: there probably will be a race war… [segregation] would be okay with me right now, but like i said, you know, that’s sort of unrealistic.

1:05:04

FBI: i guess my question is there’s nine black people that are dead… what do you want people to remember dylann roof for?

DSR: [very long pause] i don’t know.

1:17:44

FBI: at that point in time you said you stood up, and you said for a while you were debating ‘should i go?’ and then you said ‘no, i gotta do this’… what was it that, at that moment you decided ‘i have to get up and go shoot these people’?

DSR: it was just, you know, like i said, it was going back and forth in my mind and eventually i just — it was just like a jerk reaction… i really wouldn’t even say i was fully mentally prepared, you know, it’s just… i just did it. i just did it.

1:33:05

FBI: what happens now? what would your message be to [the people asking], specifically regarding why you did what you did?

DSR: well i don’t even know what happens now… that depends on other people, you see what i’m saying, i already did what i did.

FBI: so do you hope other people will emulate you… was that in your thought process, ‘if i do this and i’m successful then other people might get the courage to do it too’?

DSR: i don’t think that was ever in my thought process at all. i was never thinking, ‘oh, if i go shoot people, other people are going to shoot people,’ no, not all all. i think more, you know, if i go shoot people it’ll just cause more agitation.

FBI: so ultimately your goal was to make race relations worse?

DSR: right, i guess that’s one of my goals, i guess, i don’t know.

FBI: what does that accomplish?

DSR: it causes friction and then… you know, it could lead to a race war… and that doesn’t mean that i want white people to rise up and kill all, no, no… i just want them to be aware… to do something, you know, for themselves… that doesn’t mean you have to kill black people, you know, just make things better.

[random-blurbs]

Hi I just found your blog and omg love your writing!! 10/10!! Would it be ok if I hear your thoughts or hcs on Mark but how do you think he would treat his darling if there were different species ? (Like human , mega human or an alien ?) (I’m fine with female or gn reader ^^) please 🙏

A/n: Aww thanks I appreciate reading that!! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

In my very professional and correct opinion - I really don’t think Mark gives a fuck if that makes sense. Like if he’s interested in you and you got a solid personality man is willing to be your #1 cheerleader. Human or not man is just happy to be there, if anything he would be mad curious wanting to know every detail about you. Which can be good for late night talks lol

So have my headcannons!!

Mark x Alien!Reader

- “Wait is that like regular you, or your costume?” He apologizes every time he remembers his first words to you when he thought he was fighting a villain recognizing how he might need to check his words from now on.

- “You didn’t know Mark it’s fine.” Even after all the apologies he always takes you out for a sweet treat every time he remembers wanting to see a smile on your face, and not hate him for his words. (Which you can never do)

- If you ever want to win an argument you always pull that card, effectively making him shut up and get on his knees to apologize.

- Without you knowing he has made a list of all your little quirks in his note apps, never wanting to forget something that can make you feel out of place with your time on Earth.

- He was always so curious where you came from, as he admired the gold lines streaking your body, it was a delicate set of patterns that glow when you’re feeling too much of one emotion. And the singular twirly antenna sprout you have on the top of your head made it hard for him to not fall for you, weirdly so. All of this effectively made you stick out when you’re walking down the streets as you’re usually beaming, a walking star practically.

-It hurts his eyes, like really bad (he’ll never tell you this) so by the end of the day he’s squinting at his mom trying to recall the moments he had good vision

- Everytime people give him the solution of sunglasses he shoots it down, wanting to embrace every part of you… even if it blinds him

- You forced him to wear sunglasses ever since you saw his trash piled with eye drops

- “How do you not find them cute?” He asked shocked, looking up at you with a scooped up kitten in his arms. “These ‘things’ are demons on my planet practically.” You say bluntly, shivering at the cat-infested home you remembered you left. Misinterpreting your words as 100% truth; whenever there’s a cat nearby he scoops you up with so much panic you always assume you’re being under attacked. But in fact it was just him throwing you over his shoulder and hauling ass away from the cat.

- He likes feeling the difference between your skin, and the gold plates practically etched onto your body feeling the difference in texture. He likes hearing the noise when he taps on it hearing a clank every time making him chuckle.

-If we’re being honest he can keep himself entertained for a good hour just doing that with every part of your body.

-He still loves and cherishes it didn’t matter what you are. He loves the crinkle your eyes do whenever you smile, the way you wear your emotions free for everyone to see never ashamed of who you were.

- You being so in tune with your emotions, you always help him understand his own considering everything he goes through, glad you’re by him through it all.

- It was a burning question every time he sees your antenna bouncing around. He needs to ask. But would he offend? He doesn’t want to. But the curiosity is killing him.

- It took him a year to ask you.

- “If like…… someone cuts your antenna do you die?”

- You couldn’t help but give him massive side-eye as you try to see if he’s holding an unknown pair of scissors. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

- “It’s not like I was going to cut it!”

- “You said it so suspiciously can you blame me!”

- You don’t die if it’s cut. (Much to your own relief whenever you see Mark holding scissors)

- He’s glad that you never joined the hero scene much to Cecil’s dismay considering he knows what’s going to happen if you do.

-Everyone is going to love you, see how beautiful you are, fall in love and there’s never going to be enough time to be one another, and you’ll leave him to rot. And he really wouldn’t want to resort to locking you in his closet so he’s grateful you’re all his.

-That’s what he says atleast as you gave him an unimpressed look at his dramatics.

- “That wouldn’t happen.”

- “You don’t know that.”

- He adores and practically kisses the floor you walk on, never feeling luckier to be called your boyfriend.

- If you get Mark to love you human or not he would do anything in his power to make you the happiest person in the planet.

[lunarliyah]

Juno In Sagittarius people love to travel with their partner. Prefers someone that is out of state and sometimes even out the country. Their obsession with travel and exploring is also a huge part of their love language.

Moon/Mercury

+

Moon/Mars

Both experiencing major headaches. In fact, they get headaches easier than others. If they don’t eat enough or take long periods of time without eating can result in headaches. Being tired can cause headaches. Quicker than normal and typically more painful.

Aquarius placements can be some of the most delusional people. They can lack self awareness. They are be so opinionated on others and what they’re doing. They can try so hard to pick apart what others have going on. As soon as someone says “you�� to them, defense mode.

Leo and Capricorns have very similar energy. Both can be very sure of themselves and what they want. Both are goal oriented. Having both Leo and Capricorn in a natal chart, specifically in the big three, makes someone very reliable and independent. (My favorite type of placements tbh lol) Both energy care about how they’re perceived, they don’t do anything without thought. Contrary to popular belief, Leo’s are very calculated people. All earth signs are calculated in different ways of course. Capricorns in particular have a way of playing chess and making sure that they do things that benefit them in the long run. As far as these energies being together in a relationship, perfect match. Leo being a fixed sign, this energy wants to make things work. They are not easy to give up on things and people. They make change happen if need be but only to keep the stability in their connection with others. At the end of the day you can summarize that as being loyal. Capricorns never leave people high and dry. They are straightforward with their ACTIONS. They are honest and if they care enough (lol) they’ll speak up. For the most part, they are showers. They show people how much they care. Which Leo’s loves. A doer, not someone who’s all talk. They’re the show off and the ones doing to talking! Not their partner. Capricorns are also very loyal as well. I personally love love love these two together. Power couple for real. Also makes the best of friends too!

Cardinal

These people are considered the scout. The leaders. What this means is when it comes to relationships, they are more upfront about what they want and what their needs are. They enjoy people to let them take the lead. They are not afraid of pursuing people they want in their life. Romantically or friendship wise. They’re more picky and they are definitely more independent. It doesn’t take them long to move on. (cancers.. yeah maybe a little different but once they’re gone, it no way possible for anyone to get the back) They shoot their shot directly and can even be flirty. They do not beat around the bush at all. They like to jump straight into things. Sometimes this does backfire. Moving too fast into things. Rushing even. Thinking too far ahead. Sometimes they can stress themselves out by thinking too much into the future or may even be seen as bossy. Or pushy even.

(Capricorn, Aries, Cancer, & Libra)

Mutable

These people are more inclined to fluctuate. They love having variety and options. They tend to not sit still, ever. Always on the go. Tend to go well with someone who helps balance them out. They are not the neatest people, yes even Virgos. These people are not that straightforward I’ve realized only when it comes to things they aren’t passionate about. In comparison for cardinal signs, it doesn’t take much for them to pursue anything. These people struggle with finishing project, ideas, etc. They can have an idea that they sit on for days (or forever). These people are very creative though. Don’t underestimate their creativity. They just need that push to execute and consistency.

(Pisces, Gemini, Virgo, & Sagittarius)

Fixed

These will be your most unconvincing, stubborn, my way or the highway type of people ever. They rarely change their minds. The way they’re used to something is how it will be for a long time. How they were raised shows up a lot in their adult life. These people enjoy routine. These people also love the thought of continuous things. These people don’t like forming deep relationships with new people. They will try to make things work. They will be very loyal people. Aquarius is known to be flaky. But they’ll be there for those who give them space and don’t conflict with their decisions and beliefs.

(Aquarius, Taurus, Leo, & Scorpio)

Thank you all for reading. I’m open for doing synastry readings and natal chart readings all week. Make sure to book your reading in my bio. Again, thank you all for reading have a nice day!

[chibigingi]

My Issue with Solas

(To which I'm going to be berated, blocked, loathed, dismissed by his fans, and that's okay because it's their right, but I gotta get this out.)

First and foremost I will openly admit that I've played most of the Dragon Age games and their DLC (exception being one of the DLCs from Dragon Age 2 involving Corphyeus and the deets on Malcom Hawke, and any DLC in Inquisition), and my enjoyment of the series, up until Veilguard, is casual. I preferred the Mass Effect series and even then I can't say that I know all the lore to consider myself a super fan.

That being said, my issue with Solas (besides some of his crazier fans who genuinely can't acknowledge any flaws or unironically say that the Veil should've came down) is the fact that they wrote him to be too powerful, too clever, and thus wrote themselves (or the ones that ended up taking over as I'm told that the development for Dread Wolf and then eventually Veilguard was... uh... a mess xD) into a corner in regards to how they can realistically combat him by making him the antagonist of the fourth game.

Much of the criticism I see from the hardcore Solas/Dragon Age lore fans usually boil down to the fact that they (the writers) nerfed him so that the heroes of the Veilguard could have a fighting chance.

"Remember when he could turn people into stone without even looking at them?"

"He could've easily subdued Varric without killing him." (Something Neve points out as well if you take her with you to the final showdown in Minrathous)

"I can't believe he'd fall for a fake dagger, they had to BS some excuse that he's concussed or say it's his arrogance that blinded him, whatever, they made him look dumb!"

All reasonable criticisms, but I think the problem lies in the fact that the writers, either his original ones or the new ones, just did themselves an oopsie and powerscaled him to the point that ANY effort to overcome him will be dismissed as 'contrived', 'unrealistic', or that they had to nerf him in order to overcome him.

Which... not really?

Think of it like this. Rook is portrayed as the anti-Solas, regardless if you play them as Blue, Red, or Purple. Whereas Solas schemes, plots ahead, plays chess with others as pawns, willing to sacrifice said pawns when necessary, Rook is literally riding by the seat of their pants and making it up as they go. When your opponent is someone who thinks he has everything figured out, the best way to combat that is to be so wild, so unpredictable, that it throws them off balance, long enough to get a few licks in.

Solas's greatest weakness in regards to Rook is that he always, always, always underestimates Rook and that Rook always does the unexpected.

Whereas Solas knew Varric would try and talk him down, he could never predict that the wild card that Varric hired was stupid enough to drop a freakin' statue on him to stop a ritual (instead of doing something conventional, like, you know... shoot at him from afar or charge boldly at him, like an idiot). ((Though, if Solas had taken the time to know Rook, especially Warden Rook, he's have probably been a little less surprised... or not, because who'd drop a large construction ontop of someone else TWICE in the span of a few months? Seriously, who even does that once, much less twice?))

Whereas Solas expects Rook to be belligerent and distrustful throughout their shared sessions in the Meditation rooms, Rook surprises him by actually listening to his advice, despite their dislike/distrust of him.

Whereas Solas expects Rook to be trapped in the Fade prison, because if someone as smart and clever and powerful as he, the Elven god of lies, deception, rebellion, blah blah blah, then an idiot like Rook who Solas clearly thinks lacks insight and introspection (a far assumption, Rook dropping a statue on him and interrupting a Ritual was literally plan A) couldn't figure it out.

Even the three (technically Five I guess) endings, Rook defeats him by doing the unexpected.

Sacrifice, he never expects Rook to have what it takes to make the sacrifice. Sure, everyone SAYS they'll do whatever it takes to save the world, but how many are actually willing to do it when the gauntlet is thrown? How many have tried to stop Solas with the good ol' 'Whatever it takes' mentality and hadn't either been defeated or chickened out when the time came?

Fight, he expects that Rook would be stupid and fight him on their own, never expecting that his companions would be willing to risk life and limb to fight for Rook (hell, even Emmrich, Mr-Always-Suggests-The-Non-Violent-Option is ready to throw hands the moment Rook says it's Clobbering time).

Trick, this is self-explanatory in that he never expects Emmrich or anyone to have made a fake dagger, nor does he expect Rook to be brazen enough to even try pulling such a trick on him. This is a guy that thought dropping a statue on him was a good idea, after all, and Rook hadn't shown signs of such deviousness before, at least not against him. Who would dare try and outDread Wolf the Dread Wolf? Rook, that's who.

Both Redemption endings, he never expects Rook to actually talk to him in the final confrontation, especially after all that he put Rook through. He's expecting Rook to be so out for blood, so determined to see him as his enemy, so determined to stop him, that the idea that he'd go through the hassle of learning about all of his regrets or finding Mythal's fragment wouldn't have crossed Rook's mind. That Rook actually believed that he was worthy of redemption, after everything he's done, to Rook, to the Inquisitor, to Mythal, to literally all of Thedas... is unexpected.

Look, I get that the writing in Veilguard, especially compared to previous games, isn't all that great. Sometimes it's just bad. I think fans had expected Solas to continue to be this all-powerful being that was always being eluded to through in-game journals and codex entries (or these feats maybe were seen in Trespasser, I don't know because I haven't played it and at this point, I kind of don't want to). I think a lot of the issues arise with expectations, whether they're reasonable expectations or not.

People expected Solas to be bested by a character that could match his wit, but instead, they get a chaotic DnD player that is literally making shit up as they go. Which... if you're a fan of Solas and wanted to maybe see him have a better outcome even though you knew he'd have to lose at the end, I can get the disappointment. Or maybe you hate Solas but are still disappointed that you couldn't really do all the terrible things you wanted to do to him (like, me... sorry, but my Inquisitor would NOT have called him 'Friend'... don't give me the option to say 'I want to stop him' if you're just going to be lazy and have it the same as the 'I want to help him' but just a little less nice). Sorry y'all didn't get the game you wanted or the game you feel the series deserves... fate conspired against us players and the developers who tried despite being given an impossible task.

Maybe I'm pessimistic, and I'll admit I have some bias against Solas anyways as I never cared for him even BEFORE the reveal in Inquisition, but I just had a feeling that the decision to have the entire series revolve around him was going to eventually bite Bioware in the butt, because once the expectations was there, the chances of them living up to said expectations was slimmer than Emmrich's waistline. Maybe with more time and resources and not having EA constantly trying to make Dragon Age something it could never be, y'all have gotten the game y'all feel the series deserve.

Or maybe y'all be bitching because there'll be something else that y'all didn't like in how he was handled. I don't know, I'm like Rook in that I don't have time for that kind of insight. I enjoyed the game, for all of its many flaws... only other Dragon Age game I played more than once was 2, and that was because I screwed up with Isabela and I hate finishing a game without a full party available to me (if it is possible and not because of the developers forcing the players to make a choice to kill, or have a character leave no matter what you do).

Anyways, TL;DR version: Rook is my precious baby and we were never going to get a version of Veilguard that would've satisfied the fans nor EA's ridiculous expectations...

[stellamancer]

notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.

takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.

wc: 944

“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 

Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”

“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 

There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 

You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 

Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.

“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 

The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…

You cannot deny it. 

Not when you know what you do of the top brass.

“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”

He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 

“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 

“Nope.” 

You blink at him. “What.”

“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”

Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…

“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”

He’s not wrong, but… 

Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 

“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.

“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 

“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 

Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 

“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.

“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver.

“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 

Your hand doesn’t move.

Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—

You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.

“Change your mind?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 

“What do you think?”

You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 

“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…

Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”

You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 

“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 

You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 

[doberbutts]

I’m kinda new to tumblr so idk if this is like, improper, but that recent shit about your folks sucking was rough. just like, to read. I can’t even imagine how hard it sucks to be there right now. but idk I wanted to shoot an anonymous ask and just be like “hey you’re gonna make it” which I know you already know but figured it would be nice to hear from someone else too, so. hang in there fellow trans person and fuck your family’s behavior

Oh I never did really fully explain what was happening did I?

My great aunt died on December 1 and it wasn't particularly unexpected (she was very old, and her husband died a few years ago on Dec 3) but it was quite sudden and without much warning. I drove to my parents' house to mourn and help with funeral arrangements and it was my first time visiting since right before covid and also since starting medical transition. I figured I'd be enduring a lot of misgendering and the like but wanted to be there for my aunt because I had a lot of wonderful memories of celebrating Christmas at her house with her and my uncle.

An assortment of little comments added up over the next 24 hours until my mother effectively called me stupid unprompted to my face as I drove her from my sister's house back to her own, because I'd said that my niece and nephew were quite smart and that wasn't an abnormality within our family. This is referring to my graduating at 16 and testing well into genius for my IQ, my sister winning several national awards for her poetry and essays, my adult nephew graduating at 17 and only because of an August birthday, both of my parents having masters degrees they earned on scholarships they were given due to their own strong writing, etc and now my niece is skipping a grade and my nephew is averaging well above his grade level and likely will skip a grade too. So I said something about being a family of smart kids and my mom more or less went "well one of my kids isn't very bright" and then looked hard at me.

I'm the only college drop out of my siblings, and with a worse gpa. It's also not the first time she's called me stupid but normally not in so many words or out of left field like that so it cut pretty deep especially considering all the other bs I'd been putting up with since arriving.

I voiced discomfort with what I had (correctly) assumed she meant as a joke, which turned into an argument, which made me have the realization that this is not my home and has not been my home in some time and in fact the reason my mental health improved rapidly when I left is because I got away from her and all of her nasty little comments she doesn't think are a big deal and now I'm having a panic attack and oh- this is a trauma response. I am back in the same house, the same bedroom, the same situation, and I am being triggered, and I am having a trauma freak out, and it has been a very long time since this place and these people have been anything but detrimental to me.

TO HER CREDIT she did come into my bedroom late that night and stated that she couldn't sleep because she felt awful because clearly she seriously misstepped and did not actually mean to hurt me this badly but at that point the damage was done. We talked it out and then we both cried ourselves to sleep in our respective bedrooms and then I woke up with covid the next day and drove the 5 hours back home so I could access healthcare in my state with my state insurance.

And I don't think I will ever go back there willingly, at least not to stay overnight. I'll come up with a reason that I have to stay at a hotel or something.

So anyway long story short the issue was relatively shortlived and I am now back to normal but WOW that was a BAD night. I have not had a night like that in a very long time.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

How murderous is Karkat and Eridan?

Eridan: "killin is all i evver done practically the ocean wwas my killing cauldron"

Karkat: loves his friends so much that it hurts

They're both really blasé about killing things like imps or game enemies, and neither of them WANT to hurt their friends. Eridan's just more used to it because it was his whole job, and he's a lot better at fighting than Karkat is.

Vriska at one point says to John that her bodycount is probably "many thousands," so we can probably use that as a reference and assume Eridan's in that same bracket, because he and Vriska have a lot of parallels. In fact, I'd go so far as to call Vriska and Eridan a literary device called "parallel characters" - by listening to Vriska tell John about her feelings about her bodycount and of her place in society, we get to learn about how Eridan's feeling, too.

If we set the bar at 3000 (the low end of "many thousands") and Vriska and Eridan are both the equivalent of 13 years old, or a little less than 700 weeks, that meant he and Vriska were averaging out to multiple kills a week (and given they probably didn't start when they were newhatches and 3000 is a low estimate, like... it was probably an insane number like 5-7 kills/week). But never anyone they "cared about," in Vriska's words, until the Team Charge debacle, or Eridan went berserk on Feferi and Sollux (we should also keep in mind that Eridan outright says to Kanaya that he doesn't want to kill people he considers his friends).

But Eridan is significantly less emotionally intelligent than Vriska (a fucking feat), has less of a support system, and has a lot of Duty and Responsibility and Fate of the Species on his shoulders, so he copes a lot worse (again, a fucking feat). For Eridan, it's less about "being murderous," and more about "society demands that I be murderous" + "if I am not murderous, everybody dies" + "when I grow up, murder is my only viable career path".

He's ANXIOUS AS FUCK at his core. Via their parallel character status, we know from Vriska that they're both actually really nervous about growing up and taking their place in a society that demands bloodshed from them. When Eridan obsesses over genocide, it's a byproduct of Literally Being The Guy That Is Preventing Genocide (to the point of not really having other hobbies). We also know that he feels guilt towards his victims (or at least more than Feferi), which we know from Vriska is societally unacceptible. And if it's unacceptible for her to feel bad, then imagine how much less okay it is for the sea dweller.

So I wouldn't necessarily call Eridan murderous - like with most things regarding Eridan, it's more complicated than that - but I would call him "on a hair trigger", "conditioned to reach towards murder as an early solution," and "obsessively/anxiously trying to live up to how murderous society demands he be," all while not at all wanting to kill people he cares about. I think it's really important to note that, even though the higher the blood the more volatile the troll, and despite being unauspiced and unmoirailled, and without relying on sopor, Eridan did not start shooting to kill until Sollux and Feferi escalated the situation.

And before anyone mentions that Feferi's in the same boat, she spends practically the whole time with Sollux, who is foreshadowed to be her moirail.

Like, the tragedy of Eridan's character is that he's lonely and terrified, but does such a good job at putting up an obnoxious front that even a lot of the audience became convinced that he basically sucked and his problems didn't matter. His dumbass plan to go to Jack was a genuine attempt to save Feferi, the person he cared most about.

If you go back and look at that conversation, Eridan's casual casteist threats aren't genuine (see my pinned Eridan essay for details) - and SOLLUX is the one who says "I should have killed you when I had the chance". And Eridan DOESN'T KILL SOLLUX, because this whole time, Eridan has not wanted to kill his friends. It's not until Feferi - the person he cares most about, the one whom he concocted that suicidal mission in order to save - turns on him in agreement that Sollux should've killed him - that makes Eridan finally lose it.

Meanwhile, Karkat just loves his friends. He loves them so fucking much. I think this is pretty well-documented about him? He's got no qualms about murdering game constructs like imps and the black king, but he feels deeply fucking hurt and betrayed by Bec Noir since he bonded with Jack/Spades Slick. I don't think Karkat ever makes a genuine death threat against anybody but past!Eridan, but he and Eridan are heavily foreshadowed to be moirails, and that conversation has a hilarious bit in the middle where Karkat seemingly forgets that he's mad at the guy and just starts telling him he's a dumbass. Later on, he expresses missing his dead friends, including/especially the assholes, in the same segment as the meteor runs into dead Feferi and Eridan, so I think that that was more an angry outburst than a genuine desire to see Eridan dead.

In fact, even though he's basically shown nothing but scorn for Gamzee and Gamzee's religious beliefs and clown-ness, and even after Gamzee murders two people and seems to be trying to murder them all, Karkat can't bring himself to kill or even fight the guy, just shooshpap him down, later ranting that Gamzee was a lovable bullshit clown that he liked a lot, and (one of) his best friend(s).

So they're both in this boat of not wanting to kill their friends, but feeling societally pressured into grandstanding that they're TOTALLY murderous assholes just trust me - but Eridan was in a position where he was forced to do it at the detriment of any other hobbies, or else everybody died, and is also one of the best fighters on the team, if not THE best. Thus, the fact that it's a viable option is not only near the forefront of his mind at all times, but he has the skills to resort to it. I guess technically, that does make him more murderous, but it's also, like... any normal person in his situation would wind up the same way, honestly.