#i literally saw this in history class and had to stop myself from crying because i got so excited | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeogiyall · 4 years ago

Text

Pas De Deux; H.HJ

Word Count; 9.7k

Genre; Fluff, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Reader X Hyunjin

Warnings; Swearing, Suggestive, I would advise against reading if you have abandonment issues? It’s brought up a few times,,

Additional; Featured Chan, Felix, Jisung, and Minho; Ballerina Reader, Dance Partner Hyunjin, Reid once again writing about something that she has no idea how to do, (Sort Of) Slow Burn

A/N; when i tell u guys that i literally have no self control,, THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THIS WAS 10.46K ASFDSFS someone save me from myself. i’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate, i haven’t done ballet since i was like five and most of my research is from the unreliable internet,,, so if any ballerinas read this and are repulsed i’m sorry asdfdsa. please leave something nice if you enjoy <3<3<3<3

The last time that you saw Hwang Hyunjin was in fifth grade. You were wrapped up in each other on your front porch, him choking out tears as though it hurt.

“Jinnie!” You cooed while running a hand through his short black hair, “I’m not dying, just going to boarding school!” His cries (along with the ringing guilt in your ears) only grew louder, “You’re really good at dancing, just audition next year!” He shook his head fervently against the crook of your shoulder, wet tears falling onto your skin.

“You know I suck at ballet!” If it weren’t for his palms pulling at his teary cheeks you would’ve giggled, maybe even teased him for the time in class that he almost broke his wrist while warming up at the barre. But he was crying, he was sad, and he was convinced that he’d never see you again. The sight alone was enough to make you pout, which only served to make him cry harder, “You could join my contemporary class for the summer?” He asked with starry, red eyes. It was almost enough to make you say yes.

“You know that I suck at contemporary!” The boy giggled at your counter, a sound that made your heart soar amidst all of the crying.

“Yea, you do...” He brought a hand up to his cheeks, trying desperately to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “Just promise that you won’t forget me! I won’t forget you so you can’t forget me!” His pinky finger extended so it was nearly brushing the spot in between your eyebrows, and you were hit by the whispers of your first crush. With the summer days spent riding scooters in your driveway, and the winter ones spent sledding in it. With the long nights spent giggling about nothing underneath a blanket fort, or the endless days spent climbing trees in the bottomless woods behind the boys house. You were hit with the last five years all at once, and you knew instantly that even if he wasn’t standing in front of you with a teary face that you would still promise.

“I promise.” You answered while hooking your pinky in his as if it were a vow.

The school ended up being a perfect fit, your favorite part being the dorm room all to yourself. Even though it was small, and very ugly, it was all yours. Just like the friend group that blossomed out of your first ever co-ed class (which is sadly not a very interesting story. Han Jisung just made you swear to not dislocate his shoulders during partner stretches, and who are you to break a promise? Afterwards you received an invite to sit with him and his friend at lunch, the rest is history. Loud, annoying history.)

Nothing could’ve made it better... Well, nothing except for your sweet friend who had once occupied each thought in your head. Your sweet friend who’s summers were suddenly too full to see you, even for just a day.

Your sweet friend who didn’t keep his promise.

When it was announced that the contemporary and ballet branches of your dance institute would be merging for a year, your mind immediately jumped to Hyunjin. Despite not seeing him for almost six years. He always had such a passion for the style, making you miss out on hours of homework to watch videos of his favorite performers (it’s not like you minded too much, though.)

Han’s, on the other hand, was pure rage. Pure rage which he was letting out from your bed while watching you unpack.

“I just don’t get why they have to take a ballet class too! I have enough trouble getting solos as is.” The boy pouts while resting his head on your orange wood headboard. You’d feel sympathetic if it weren’t for the fact that he was blatantly lying, Han Jisung had gotten nearly every solo since eighth grade. Instead you roll your eyes dramatically and throw him a wadded ball of fabric from your suitcase. Naturally, he screams.

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful.” You scold, earning a childish whine while he sits up to fold the countless leotards.

“Remind me why I missed you?” He grumbles just as your other, much nicer, friend walks into the cramped room.

“Aww, you missed me Sungie?” Felix asks, voice booming deeply through the space. The two of you instantly drop the clothes in your hands and run to the boy, which you should reprimand Jisung for seeing as he just lifted a finger. But you don’t, because Felix is here with more freckles than the last time you saw him and fresh pink hair that’s definitely going to be dyed natural again within the first week.

“Yes.” The energetic boy answers while worming his way into your hug. Felix giggles softly while petting Han’s dark brown hair before pressing noisy kisses all over his cheeks. He pokes Felix’s ribs as retaliation, to which the boy screeches (directly into your ear, might I add,) and it’s back to the normal, loud chaos “I will kill you!”

“Hey! No murder in my room, if you’re gonna do that go in the hallway!” You snap playfully, pushing Jisung away while moving back into the hug, “Help me unpack? Jisung hasn’t done shit.”

“Not fair!” The boy shouts from your bed, which he’s already plopped back down on.

“I’ll help, besides do you even want him folding your clothes?” You look over your shoulder to see Jisung with his hands tangled up in three different leotards, then back to Felix with terrified eyes.

‘No,’ you mouth, eliciting another laugh from your friend. He moves over to the bed as well, then sets Jisungs hands free. The three of you talk mindlessly for hours, rambling on about Felix’s summer home and the month that you and Jisung spent traipsing around the boys hometown.

“How do you feel about the merger?” You ask suddenly, cutting Jisung off in the middle of an embarrassing story about a night spent at his house. Felix sighs deeply while tossing you the rolled leotard (your favorite one, light blue with pearls sewn around the collar,) while Jisung throws a wadded up pair of tights at your face.

“It’s fine I guess, just for a year right?” You shrug while the brunette puts on a grimace, hands suddenly very busy with folding, “They really need that rebuild, building’s falling apart. Ours is way better and we have extra room, so why not share?”

“Tell that to the rat in my mini fridge.” Han grumbles while passing you a pile of black leotards. You laugh and accept, but not before ruffling his stiff hair.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to do that the next time I’m in your room. Are you done bitching now?” The brunette pokes his tongue out at you jokingly, to which you respond with blowing a raspberry, “Felix is right, besides how terrible is it going to be? We’re all dancers right, and stuff like that is meant to be shared. Who are we to say that they can’t come and learn?” The room turns uncomfortably quiet, Jisung gnawing at his lower lip while Felix picks up his phone.

“Damn it!” The Australian exclaims as his screen lights up. You and Han look at him with furrowed eyebrows before he rolls his eyes and brings the phone up in between your faces, “Administration says I have to fix my hair.”

Han doubles over with laughter, knocking the mountain of leotards (followed shortly by himself) onto the floor. You follow his lead, and before you know it the three of you are clutching your sides and wiping away happy tears. Felix’s hands ruffle into your hair with a hum, “Maybe I can try Jisungs color, hmm?” You duck away with a snort.

“No! I draw the line at matching hair!” The brunette defends, hands moving to cover the top of his head. Felix lunges at him, fully ready to engage in a tickle fight. Naturally, Jisung screams as if he’s being murdered. It should be annoying, any other time you would find it annoying. But these are your best friends, one of which you haven’t seen in over a month, and for some odd reason your heart feels so full that it could explode.

“C’mon Lix, I’ll do your hair. What do you think about blonde?”

And even though tomorrow your school is going to be flooded with new people, and your classes full of students who have probably never done more than basic positions, in the moment it feels okay. Because one of your best friends is screaming ‘NO DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!’ while the other assures him that ‘It’ll probably most likely be okay! Look, she did mine!’ It’s a perfect chaos that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

There have been plenty of strange coincidences in your life. Like how your first dog was named Felix, and it’s now the name of one of your best friends (who’s hair ended up looking perfectly fine, thank you very much.) Or how your usual waiter at the diner in Jisungs hometown ended up being the cousin of your first kiss. Or how your dorm room is the only one on the hall with painted walls, that just so happen to be your favorite color. Plenty of weird things, but none are as weird as this. Because you’re sitting on the floor of your second class of the day, ‘Intro To Pas De Deux,’ and Hwang Hyunjin has just entered through the side door. Two minutes late.

He’s hard to recognize at first, seeing as there’s more than an added foot of height and black hair that’s creeping down the back of his neck, but the more you look the more you recognize. Pillowy lips, full cheeks, a freckle right in the set of his eye bags. You’re not entirely sold until he laughs, a sweet and breathy sound. The laugh that’s always been three seconds away from turning into a wheeze.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung questions while pulling himself up by your hands, eyes following the line that yours draw to Hyunjin, “Do you know him or something?”

You’re about to answer when Hyunjin finally turns around, eyes scanning the room before settling on you. He thinks that you look different, too. Taller and slimmer, everything that used to be squishy replaced with soft muscle. But there’s also the bridge of your nose, your hands that are barely gripping Jisungs, and of course your eyes that are staring at him like it hurts.

“(Y/n?)” He questions, your name falling from his lips as though it’s meant to do so. You nod, mouth falling open dumbly. The boy takes a step forward then freezes.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? Or at least help me finish stretching?” Jisungs voice reeks of annoyance, you think that if you weren’t in such a state of shock that you’d flick him on the forehead.

“You go to the contemporary school?” Jisung doesn’t take well to being ignored, puffing loudly while scrambling to finish stretching at the barre. Your brain immediately flashes back to Hyunjins second ballet class in third grade, when you were teaching him your favorite warm up stretches. He ended up tangled in between the barre and the wall, which shouldn’t even be possible, but Hyunjin managed.

“Um... Yea.” Every inch of your body is screaming to stand up and engulf him in a hug, but your legs feel like jello. That, and there’s a small feeling of anger rising in your throat, “L-let me help.” He plops down in front of you before you can say yes. You don’t have to though, Hyunjin still knows that you can’t refuse him. You take his hands in yours, definitely ignoring the pink flush to his cheeks, and pull his torso towards you.

“It’s been six years.” The words come out choked, full of the pain from your first summer without him. When you’d spend hours playing out in the sun, knocking on your friends front door every morning. He was never there.

“Sorry.” You want him to show some type of emotion, let you know that he cares. That he’s actually sorry for breaking his promise, “I tried to come and see you in July but you weren’t home.”

“I was at Jisung’s house, we spend the summers together.” If you were more angry and less hurt you would say ‘now that I don’t spend them with you,’ but he’s still Hyunjin. He’s still Hyunjin, and you don’t think that you could handle the way he would frown at your snide remark.

Jisung flashes you a look from his place at the barre that reads ‘Who is this guy and why do you look so sad?’ You let Hyunjin pull you into the stretch while responding with a gaze that says ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Hyunjins grip tightens on your hands as you exhale deeply into the stretch, the light blue fabric of your leotard brushing against the dance studio floor.

“(Y/n,) I-” Maybe it’s the way that he licks his lips before talking, or the fact that he looks so much and so little like your best friend at the same time, or possibly even how you can feel the way that he hugged you at your last meeting sitting on your shoulders like a winter coat, but his hands suddenly feel like fire.

“I have to go!” You exclaim, popping up out of the stretch and onto your feet in one swift motion. The boy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that spark a feeling so intense in you that you have to look away, “I have to go, I-I’ll um... I’ll see you around.” You dash off to the spot in front of Jisung, silently thanking every star in the sky that Hyunjin doesn’t have a chance to follow you. Because just as soon as you get up someone else sits down and begins to excitedly ask the boy questions (he’s short, with a petite frame and an unfamiliar face. Probably another transfer student.)

“Did he say something to you?” Jisung asks as you jump into your favorite warm up routine. There’s not really a right way to answer, because did he say anything just now? No, but six years ago he said that he’d never forget you. He promised as much, and then spent every moment doing nothing but that. You exhale while your feet continue to move instinctively, a slight sense of peace washing over you at the comfort of a routine.

“We should focus, class is starting soon.” Jisung whines and argues, but you just ignore him. Similarly to how you ignore Hyunjins gaze on you for the rest of the class.

Ignoring Hyunjin is much easier than you anticipated. In class you can distract yourself with Jisung before the teacher comes in, and lunch is fine enough. While he is there, sitting at a table that’s painfully close to yours, he doesn’t try to talk. Or worse, come and snatch up the free seat across from Felix. But no, he does nothing of the sort. Just laughs with his friends and shoots the occasional glance your way (the one composed of sparkly eyes and lips that are a breath away from pouting.)

But then there’s now, standing in the doorway of your stage chemistry class and Hyunjin is all that you can see. Hyunjin, standing in the center of the room and pressing play on the terribly outdated stereo. Hyunjin, running a hand through his raven black hair and inhaling deeply with closed eyes. All you wanted was to get your jacket, but now you have enough Hyunjin for a lifetime.

Loud, bass heavy music swells in the room as he starts to move. At first the movements are jerky, awkward almost. But then the music decrescendos every so softly and he exhales, then proceeds to move as if the dance is being pulled out of him. As if this choreo is the way that he was programmed to move. When the song peaks you swear that you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, because this is so Hyunjin. The way he’s dancing with every bone in his body, the way his hair is now dripping in sweat and flying all around him, the way his plump lips suck in air. It’s Hyunjin down to the core, and you’ve missed him so much.

When the music dies you clap slowly, causing the boy to shoot up like a frightened cat. He whips around to where you stand, softening like butter when he sees your frame leaned up against the wooden door frame.

“You scared me!” He shrieks, bringing up a hand to clutch his chest. It reminds you of your last Halloween with him, when the two of you got to trick or treat alone. Hyunjin decided that it would be a great idea to go to a fear farm, in which he screeched and clung to you the entire time. It wasn’t even that scary, he’s just a baby.

“Sorry.” You answer, mouth going as dry as the desert, “You, um... You’re really good.” He laughs flatly while moving over to his dance bag to pull out a towel. You watch as he dabs the sweat away, something stupid and needy churning in your stomach. You write it off as hunger.

“Thanks, I still suck at ballet though.” It’s a joke, you know it’s a joke, but something about laughing feels wrong.

“You don’t.” You take a step into the room, wandering over to where your windbreaker is piled on the floor next to the boy, “I’ve seen you in class, and you’re not bad. Just out of practice.” He lets out another flat laugh while dropping the towel, quickly exchanging it with a water bottle.

“Yea, about nine years out of practice. I barely even remember how to do a pirouette.” He’s trying so hard to make you laugh, just like the old days. The growing tension in your shoulders and lump in your throat is preventing that from happening.

“I can teach you.” You offer while shrugging the jacket on. Within seconds he’s babbling out excuses, which you wave off, “Don’t even worry about it, I need to practice anyways.” You bend down to untie your sneakers before moving to the center of the room, Hyunjin following in quick succession, “So you obviously know the proper foot technique, pointed toes only and all of that. And the retire position is just your foot in the notch above your knee.” You demonstrate it in the mirror, and even though he’s far from being a ballerina he’s done enough classes to know that you want him to copy it, “Yea, good. It looks good.”

“Where are my shoulders supposed to be?” He asks shyly, not used to questioning such simple things.

“Back, always back. Now check that your hips aren’t tilted, I-I’ve always been told to imagine that they’re a fruit bowl.” You steal a quick glance at the boy while he’s adjusting, heart fluttering the same way that it did so many years ago, “Okay, now um... Now put your feet into fourth position, just like that yea, then bend your knees and push off from your back leg.” You do the turn, a motion so natural that it might as well be brushing your teeth, “Like that, easy peasy!” The boy scoffs while bringing up his arms the same way that you had yours just seconds ago.

“Yea, easy peasy for you!” A soft giggle falls from your lips, bouncing off the walls of the empty studio (as well as Hyunjins ears.)

“C’mon!” You tease while moving around to face him, a soft smile playing at your lips, “You see me mess up in class all of the time, just go for it. The worst that could happen is being wrong.” He nods, then exhales shakily. When he does the turn it’s a bit wobbly, but definitely not anything worse than what you’ve seen before.

“Oh my god, (Y/n) that was terrible like genuinely awful-” The words feel harsh, but he’s wearing a bright smile and laughing like there’s not a care in the world. You can’t help but laugh too.

“No, no! It was fine!” You assure through a laugh as he gets back into position. From the corner of your eye you see him mouth ‘liar,’ which earns him a harsh flick between the eyes, “Just bring your hips a little more forward like...” It’s instinctual for your hand to fall onto his hipbone, something you’ve done to Felix hundreds of times. The main difference is that when you adjust Felix he usually tells you to fuck off, then softly knees your stomach. When you do it to Hyunjin he audibly chokes and you feel fire ignite beneath your fingertips, “Like this. Now go into fourth and try again, but keep your hips aligned!” The boy nods before sinking into position and pushing up into a flawless turn.

“I did it!” He exclaims, hands flying up like he’s about to hug you, “You were right, you were right I did it!” Something about his wide, excited eyes makes every wall built around your heart crumble into dust. So you accept the hug, once again allowing yourself to fall victim to the sweetness that is Hwang Hyunjin.

“I was what, I was... Did you say right?!” He rolls his eyes at your teasing, trying desperately to pretend like he didn’t miss it. It’s useless, because the way that Hyunjin’s holding you let’s you know that he’s missed you just as much as you have him, “Alright big guy, let me go. I’ve got studying to do and shoes to break in.” He whines lowly, arms trying to grab you as you snake away.

“Can we get dinner together or something?” He begs, hand briefly tangling itself in yours. You fight down the blush rising to your cheeks while pulling your hand away and stuffing it into your pocket.

“Not tonight, you have to keep practicing those pirouettes! But don’t worry, you’ll be seeing more of me... Partner.” Hyunjin smiles widely at your words, realization settling in as quickly as they leave your mouth.

“Do you mean...?”

“Yes,” You exhale, mentally preparing for another bone crushing hug, “I’ll be your partner for class.”

Hyunjins hug is almost nice enough that you forget about how annoying Jisung’s going to be when you tell him.

It turns out that the friends Hyunjin made are almost as amazing as the ones that you did. Everyone was a little awkward when the two groups first merged, specifically Jisung who was still butt hurt about you switching partners. But then Felix got to talking with Chan (the person who’s been mothering your friend ever since he started at the contemporary institute. From the way they talk, Hyunjin would’ve both starved and failed if it weren’t for the older boy,) and suddenly everyone was meeting in your room on Fridays for a weekly game of uno.

“Absolutely not, you’re fucking cheating!” Minho (the other new face from your stage chemistry class,) shouts while pointing a finger across the card pile and into Jisungs face. The boy moves to jokingly bite at it, causing Chan’s eyes to go as wide as the moon.

“No, no, no! No murder, and no biting what the hell!” You snort at your new friends bewildered expression while passing a canned sparkling water to Hyunjin. He accepts with a smile before mouthing ‘they’re insane!’ Felix sees and proceeds to nail him in the face with your favorite throw pillow.

“Says the guy who sleeps in socks-” Hyunjin throws the pillow back harshly, causing Chan to damn near pass out. It’s all that you can do to not roll over with laughter.

“My feet get cold.” He grumbles with a pout that makes both you and Minho coo from your spots beside the boy.

“Okay, okay, Minho just pick up the cards and let’s keep going? I’m about to finish!” The boy grumbles angrily, all ‘stupid card game’ and ‘I don’t wanna pick up twenty cards!’ You lock eyes with Chan from across the card pile, taking brief solace in the presence of someone else with a functioning brain.

“So we all know that (Y/n’)s about to win, and that she’s my best friend and favorite duet partner,” Everyone answers him with an immediate ‘rude,’ which makes a girlish giggle bubble up in your throat, “which is why it makes me so terribly sad to do this.” You watch closely as he dramatically pulls a card from his hand then places it on top of the deck, a fat draw four staring you straight in the eyes. Everyone goes silent while watching your face fall drastically.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I am going to-” The room bursts into chaos before you even finish the sentence. In the end there are about twelve fresh bruises, six entirely hoarse sets of vocal chords, and one demolished dorm room. Just a normal Friday night.

Except for the way that your heart stutters when Hyunjin mouths a simple ‘love you’ over the bustling group. That’s not normal, but you think that you like it.

“Hyunjin, if you keep your hands there I’m going to fall.” You say to your duet partner, whose hands are wandering aimlessly up your torso. They’re supposed to be on your hips, serving as an anchor for your body while it dips towards the ground.

“Sorry, sorry.” The boy mumbles, not entirely meaning it. It’s impossible to be sorry when he can physically feel your heart speed up beneath his hands.

“Try to sound just a little bit less convincing next time, okay?” You shimmy slightly in a futile attempt to move his hands, which only makes him laugh brightly. If it weren’t for your less than ideal position (halfway bent into a split with every ounce of your weight balanced on the tips of your toes,) you would hit him.

“Do you want me to drop you, because I can drop you if it’s what you want-” The teacher snaps her fingers, pulling everyone’s attention out of the various warm up routines and to the front of the room. Hyunjins hands pull away from your torso so quickly that it burns.

“No dropping dance partners on purpose, that’s the first rule of building stage chemistry.” She chastises, eyes brushing briefly over your friend which causes him to turn thirty shades of pink. You giggle quietly to yourself before sticking your tongue out at him, “But of course, you can’t truly start to build a connection until there’s material. So that’s what we’re doing today, I’ve assigned each group with a pas de deux, or ‘dance for two’. Whoever I think shows the most promise within the next week will be given the opportunity to enter in the regional competition.” She says opportunity, but the stern tone of her voice means that whoever she picks will definitely have to do the competition.

Everyone floods to the front of the class before she even finishes, Hyunjin moving to do so as well before you quickly grip his wrist.

“She didn’t say to go yet, and if we want to qualify for that competition we’re going to have to start kissing up now.” You keep your face forward, chin up and shoulders back, but even then you can feel Hyunjins smile, “What?!”

“You want to do the competition?” He sounds hopeful, nearly childlike.

“Of course! That’s like half the reason I go to school here, the competitive atmosphere.” People are starting to settle back into place, your teacher wearing a look of utter annoyance. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice, seeing as his mouth keeps moving.

“I’ve only known how to do a pirouette for a month, and I still can’t really get my double. You’d have a better chance with Han, or-” As soon as the teachers back is turned you whip around to your babbling partner, hands planted firmly on his broad shoulders. It takes a second for his eyes to meet yours, but when they do he nearly melts.

“I don’t want to do it with anyone else, I want to do it with you. And just because your double isn’t perfect doesn’t mean that it’s not good so stop stressing.” He looks down for a second, cheeks growing as pink as your shoes. By force of habit you hook a hand beneath the boys chin and force him to look at you, “I mean it.” He swallows harshly, then nods. With a sigh you let go of the boy and return to your previous (assigned) position. Just in time too, seeing as the teacher turns around right as you settle next to the boy.

“You may check your assignments at the end of class, if you haven’t done so already.” You flash a knowing glance to Hyunjin, almost as if to say ‘I told you so.’ He knows better than to argue.

At the end of class you go up to look with Jisung while Hyunjin gathers your things for you, the short brunette babbling excitedly about the previously mentioned regional’s.

“I thought that you don’t do partner work?” You tease lightly while ducking down to look at the list.

“I don’t, but neither does my partner! So we’ll just be okay at...” He bends next to, head full of brown hair hitting you straight in the eyes, “Romeo and Juliet?” You bite down a laugh while pushing the boy away.

“Don’t try to fight it, you’re such a Romeo. Just like I am such a... Lise!” The boys face contorts with jealousy as he ducks back down, once again knocking your heads together.

“You guys got La Fille mal gardee? And the ribbon dance?!” You giggle back a small yes while pinching the boys frowning cheeks, “No fair! Absolutely no fair, I have to do stupid Romeo and Juliet and you got my favorite ballet, no fair!”

“It’s my favorite too!” You defend, which ends up being pointless because both Hyunjin and Jisung chorus back with ‘not true!’

“Your favorite is swan lake.” Hyunjin states while sliding your dance bag onto your shoulder. Maybe it’s the fondness in his action, or the way that he named off your favorite ballet as though it was a fact ingrained into his brain, but your heart swells so large that you swear it could pop like a balloon.

“Okay,” you exhale, hand moving to the spot where his fingers were ghosting just seconds ago, “one of my favorites.”

At your first rehearsal for regionals you and Hyunjin are given the ribbon to use, seeing as it’s literally the ribbon dance. Practicing without it was honestly getting awkward, which is unfortunate seeing as the boy nearly got it taken away within minutes.

“Look (Y/n,) I’m a present!” He had exclaimed, causing you to whip around to the sight of your partner with a pink silk bow tied around his chin.

“Oh no, Hyunjin!” You whispered through a quiet laugh, moving towards him to untie it, “You are so ridiculous!”

“What? Am I not a gift?” He pouted while trying to pull your hands away, which earned him nothing but a harsh smack on the wrist. You slipped it off his face and behind your back just as the teacher walked in the door to give the ‘your ribbon is not a toy,’ talk.

At the second you describe the plot of La Fille mal Gardee, which proves to be slightly (read: very confusing.)

“Wait wait wait, she doesn’t even like the other guy?!” He asks while shaking his head cutely, black hair bouncing along with the motion. If it gets any longer he’s going to have to start putting it up.

“Nope, not one bit.” His eyebrows furrow as he starts to grumble ‘this is kind of stupid,’ earning a giggle and a push to the shoulder, “No it isn’t! It’s funny, and sweet! I really relate to Lise and her... Character arch I guess.”

“Isn’t she the girl who needed guarding or something like that?” His tilts to the side, teeth catching ever so slightly on his puffy pink lips.

“Yea,” You exhale with a quickening heart rate, “something like that.” There’s silence for a minute, nothing but Hyunjin shaking his head and sighing softly.

“That’s not you. No one needs to guard you.” For some reason your brain flashes back to the third summer alone (that awkward stage where you were too old to make new friends and too young to go see Jisung,) when you spent everyday walking through the woods alone. Sometimes you would just walk until the sun went down and your only company was the stars, but most days you would find a new place to sit down and hum out the motifs of your favorite ballets, “No one.”

For a moment you think that he’s right.

The fourth rehearsal (exactly one week after the first) is when you get to a stage kiss in the choreography, your teacher describing the motions along with a recording that’s projecting on the back wall. It starts with the boy pulling in the girl by the ribbon, then swooping down to meet her lips with a smile. Then she twirls away, leaving your skin hot and crawling.

“We’re um... A-are we gonna do that?” Hyunjin asks through a whisper, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s warm and smells like spearmint.

“We’ll know when we get there I guess, now pay attention!” You push his face away from yours and back to the projection, watching as the couple wraps each other up in the silky ribbon.

When you do finally get there an hour later he looks so nervous that he could puke. Your teacher shouts out the next move, ‘kiss and then twirl away,’ which only adds to the painful drumming of your heart.

“It’s okay, (Y/n,) you don’t have to.” His voice is low, hushed. Almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“No, no! It’s okay, I’ll just...” You lean forward as much as you can with the ribbon hugging your waist and press a feather light kiss onto the tip of his nose. The teacher coos, maybe even praises the two of you on the developing stage chemistry. You don’t hear it. You don’t hear anything over the erratic beating of your heart, “I’ll just do that, okay?” He swallows dryly, eyes flashing quickly down to your lips then back up to your sweet gaze.

“Y-yea, perfect.” There’s something building up in the space between your bodies, so thick that you could spread it over toast, “You should twirl away, right?” You nod, wanting desperately to stay. To kiss him in an earth shattering way.

A part of you thinks that you shouldn’t. That Hyunjin has the power to ruin every part of you, and that wanting to give that to him after your hearts already been broken is foolish. But you do, you want to. Because loving Hyunjin feels good enough that the pain doesn’t matter.

After the fifth rehearsal the two of you feel as though you’ve torn every muscle in your body. Your teacher decided within the first twelve minutes that the two of you would benefit from some conditioning, which resulted in you and Hyunjin holding side by side planks (as well as other terrible positions) and muttering curses for a solid hour.

“I’m gonna collapse.” Hyunjin whines, plopping down onto the hardwood floor beside his dance bag. Something that’s probably supposed to be a laugh falls out of your mouth before you pull the water bottle from your bag.

“At least you haven’t been wearing pointe shoes all day.” You groan while moving the bottle to your mouth. A mouthful of water slides down your throat right as the boys face twists into one of horror.

“Oh gosh, oh no I’m so sorry!” You try to wave the black haired boy away, which only makes him feel worse, “No, no! I wanna help let me umm... Come back to my room? I can set up a foot bath with...”

“Epsom salts.” You answer after swallowing another swig of water, “But I have all of the stuff in my room, I can take care of it.” Hyunjin whines again while rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself into a sitting position. There’s a bead of sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, something that you shouldn’t focus on. It catches on the tip before falling delicately onto his collar bone.

“I wanna take care of it,” It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, “just... Here, wear my jacket into the building so no one can see that you’re uh... A girl.” You try to argue again, but then your cheeks are squished in between his hand and his eyebrows are furrowed just enough for it to be cute, “Let me take care of you.”

And really, how could you say no to that?

“Hwang Hyunjin, you are my favorite person in the world.” You sigh, feet dipping into the warm cloudy water. He plops down next to you with a laugh and arms full of snacks.

“Can I get that in writing? You know, just to prove it to Jisung.” Laughter bounces off of his dorm walls, filling the boys brain with childhood memories. Like the time that you two were riding scooters in your driveway and just as the sun started to set you skinned your knee. Hyunjin had thought for a minute that the shaking of your shoulders was sobbing, but quickly discovered by a tilt of your chin and hands wrapped around your sides that you were indeed laughing. Beautiful, clear laughter complete with sunshine dripping from your skin. It was the first time he can remember thinking that someone was beautiful.

“Yes!” You exclaim, effectively pulling the boy from his memory, “But only if you give me food.” He giggles tiredly, a sound so sweet that it might as well be honey, and tosses a bag of pita chips your way.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

You’re supposed to go back to your dorm at eleven, thirty minutes after arrival. But then Hyunjin starts talking about anything and everything, ranging from how he met Minho to the old building of his school. The way he chuckles sleepily while reminiscing on water logged ceilings is enough to make you melt.

Somehow your head ends up pulled against his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. There’s an arm tied around your waist like ribbon, lips softly brushing your hairline as he mumbles endlessly about everything, your leg across his lap as though they’re supposed to be.

“What time’s it?” You slur, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt. It smells like spice and fresh pine and Hyunjin. So much like Hyunjin.

“Midnight.” You think to yourself that it’s time to leave, that if any of the staff found out about this you’d be dead. You also think that Hyunjin smells like fresh pine and that he’s holding you in a way that you’ve never been held.

The sound of his even breathing and the weight of his arms on you lulls you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

When you wake up it’s to the obnoxious blaring of Hyunjins alarm. The boy whines lowly before punching it into snooze. It’s enough to make you laugh, then pull your head away from the cradle of his chin.

“C’mon sleepy, it’s time to get up. What do you have for breakfast?” If it weren’t for your hair tickling his cheek or the way your torso writhes beneath his arm he would be annoyed by your chirping voice. After the hundreds of early mornings school has thrown your way you can’t really help but be a morning person.

“More sleep, that’s what I have.” He grumbles as you crack the curtains open, trying desperately to pull the comforter over his eyes.

“You need food to fuel your body Hyunjin-” Before you can finish lecturing him an arm shoots up from beneath the gray blanket, crashing your body onto his with a sleepy groan.

“M’ just kidding.” He pulls you under the blanket with him, mimicking the first time he spent the night at your house. You two stayed up until the sun was rising, hidden away from the world by the fluffy pink comforter of your childhood bedroom, “Protein bars are in the closet and apples’r on top of the mini fridge.

It’d be so easy to skip classes and stay here all day, not a care in the world besides the sweet boy that you’re currently tangled in. A part of you wants to melt away and give in, but a bigger part knows that doing that is a commitment. Like saying that you’re his to hold and break however he pleases. It’s the scariest thought that you’ve had in months.

“W-we should get going. Yea?” The words sound like you’ve been choking on them. A fact that Hyunjin takes notice of, eyes growing sad and attentive as his arms wiggle away from your waist.

“Yea, yea. Minho will be here in ten minutes, we walk to pas de deux together.” Before you can help it your expression turns panicked, eyebrows shooting up as your jaw drops open, “Sorry! He’s not gonna tell anyone or anything I promise!” Something clenches in your chest at the sight of him sitting up in bed, black hair sticking up every way that it can.

“I know he won’t, it’s just...” You look down at your body, clothed with Hyunjins sweatshirt and a pair of his long socks (turns out that he was onto something with the whole ‘sleeping in socks’ thing,) “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shoots up to meet yours, so soft and relaxed that you could cry.

“Which would be?” There’s a pounding in your ears that’s quickly recognizable as a heartbeat.

“That we’re together.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin hears you loud and clear. From the light tremble to the breathy finish, he hears you.

“We could be, if that’s what you want.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, an action familiar enough that it’s normal yet tender enough that your cheeks are flushing pink, “Is that what you want?”

“I-I, um...” Your heart is screaming yes, that you want to be his and only his. That while you aren’t a girl who needs to be guarded, you are a girl who wants to be guarded. Guarded from everything by Hyunjins thin comforter and strong arms.

But then you think about the promise that Hyunjin broke. The promise that he wouldn’t forget you, and then broke less than twenty-four hours later. You think about how badly you’ve wanted to spend the last day of summer with him every year since. Your mouth opens right as a knock sounds against his door, “Can we talk about this later?” Hyunjin nods lightly while getting up to grab two apples off of the top of the mini fridge.

“I’m so sorry for however he reacts.” The boy groans under his breath, offering you a light green apple along with an apologetic smile. You accept, smiling back before popping out of bed to pull your dance bag over your shoulder.

“It can’t be that bad, Minho’s level headed.” If it weren’t for the fact that Hyunjin still has a question lodged in his throat he would’ve laughed.

You’re the one who finally opens the door, interrupting Minho mid-knock. At first he looks aggravated, ready to launch into a long speech about how ‘timeliness is important’ and ‘you always fucking make us late’ but when his eyes meet you his jaw goes slack.

“What the f-”

If the sound of Minho screeching wasn’t telling enough, you were very very wrong.

The next four days are spent dancing around Hyunjins burning question, constantly talking about anything else or switching the topic when it seems like he might bring it up. At first he barely notices, simply assuming that you need time to mull it over, but then Jisung and Chan sit in on a lunchtime rehearsal.

The dance is coming along perfectly, so much so that the boys don’t even notice your hesitations. Hyunjin sees it though. Sees the way that your hands tremble before planting on his shoulders, the way that your face looks sad after pressing the soft kiss onto his nose. While he hasn’t seen you dance as much as Jisung or Felix probably have, he’s still seen enough to know that you’re never like this. Never uncertain.

“What was that about?” The boy asks after the rehearsal, hands crossed against his chest. You’re going to ignore him, focus on nothing other than getting out of your pointe shoes and off to your next class, but then his dark brown eyes catch on yours, “Seriously!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond, fingers working quickly to undo the ribbons around your ankles. A sigh leaves your mouth as one shoe slips off and into your bag, quickly moving to the other one before Hyunjin can continue the questioning.

Turns out that your friend is terrible at picking up on social cues.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Your head is briefly pulled up from the floor as his voice grows impossibly soft, your heartbeat faltering ever so slightly. There’s a quiet goodbye as Jisung and Chan leave the studio, “Y-you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, throwing the second shoe into your bag while a lump takes form in your throat. If he wasn’t your best friend then he would think that you’re just tired, or hungry, or anything other than deflecting. But he is your best friend, who knows that being tired or hungry only makes you sad. Your best friend who knows that you’re deflecting harder than you ever have before.

“It’s okay, just tell me. Please.” His last word is so hushed that you can barely hear it, but it’s there. Light, and airy, and perfectly there, “Is this about what I asked?” Before you can help you’re nodding, once again giving this boy every part of you that can break.

“Yea, kind of.” It feels like your mouth is full of cotton, leaving you uncomfortably hot along with speechless. A loud sigh rings through the studio as Hyunjin slides down to meet your height, hands burying into his raven black hair. The sight takes you back to the last day of fifth grade; you and him holding each other on your front porch as if the world was ending, your hands tangled into his hair.

“Is it because you don’t want to?” There’s his eyes on yours, your chest heaving, and nothing else in the entire universe. Just (Y/n,) the girl who wants to be guarded, and Hyunjin, (Y/n’)s beloved.

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Right now feels like when you’re at a competition, in the middle of a variation that’s been giving you hell since you started working on it. It’s seconds before the hardest part, the one that you’re still not sure of. It’s the adrenaline rushing through your veins and the words ‘now or never’ echoing with each timed exhale.

“Because. How do I know that you won’t forget about me when summer comes?” Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, causing his lips to part and then heave for air.

“I-I never forgot about you.”

“Yes you did!” There are tears prickling the back of your eyelids, which you quickly blink away before continuing, “I waited for you outside your house every day! And then, when you wouldn’t show up, I-I’d spend every day alone. Doing what we used to do together, but by myself! I was all by myself and I missed you so much, Jinnie. So, so much.” He’s going to tell you that you’re wrong. That while all of those things happened, he never ever forgot about you.

But then there’s that old nickname, the one reserved specifically for family and you. He hasn’t heard it in months, and when he finally does it’s rolling out of your mouth like a plea soaked in honey. Something that’s going to stick with him for forever.

“(Y/n,) please-” You’re up and out of the door before he can even finish.

It’s a dreary Friday morning, rain trickling down your window and painting your room a gray shade of blue. With a deep inhale you realize that everything is finally smelling like fall, which only solidifies the fact that you never want to get out of bed. Unfortunately you have a class in half an hour that you do kind of need to go to.

But it’s not too terrible. Maybe if you were getting up to go take a math class, or run a marathon, but you aren’t. You’re getting up to go to ballet class, and you can wear your favorite leotard again (the light blue one, with pearls sewn around the collar,) and the rain outside is heavy enough to be calming but light enough that you can fend it off with an umbrella. The only thing that could make this morning any better is your favorite childhood breakfast, honey nut cheerios with strawberry milk.

Which is, oddly enough, sitting outside of your door when you open it to head off to the dining hall. A gallon sized jug of bright pink milk next to a family size box of your favorite cereal, just sitting in the middle of the hallway with a folded piece of paper resting precariously on top. Something about this has Hyunjin written all over it. You lean down to pick up the note, reading it about a thousand times over before rushing back into your room to wolf down the breakfast that you haven’t had in months.

‘(Y/n,)

I never forgot you.

Come to my room tonight after rehearsal. Please.

Sincerely, Hyunjin.’

When you two do the first full run through of the pas de deux that night he holds you extra tight. Maybe because he misses you. Maybe because he thinks that after tonight he’ll never have the chance to do so again.

But when he opens the door to his dorm room you see pink fluffy blankets folded on his bed. On top of them is a basket, filled to the brim with every last one of your favorite things. Strawberries dipped in chocolate like the ones your mother would make on hot summer nights, snickers bars like the ones that you two would share after days spent in your driveway, glass bottled lemonade like you would buy from the stand up the street.

“I may or may not have also bought your favorite movie. Well, if it’s still Barbie And the Twelve Dancing Princesses.” A giggle sounds through the room, bouncing around the walls and then back onto Hyunjins burning cheeks.

“It is, but don’t tell Jisung!” Rain starts to fall again, the soft pitter patter mixing perfectly with the boys soft laugh. His hand grazes briefly against the small of your back as he starts to guide you into the tight room, “I’m serious! Him and Lix will make fun of me!” The pout on your face is enough to melt anyone’s heart, which is why Hyunjin doesn’t even think twice when his knees go weak as jelly.

“My lips are sealed.” He says, walking over the boxy tv (that certainly wasn’t there last week) on his desk and inserting the disc, “Now sit back and enjoy.”

It’s not a hard request to fill, your tired body sinking immediately into the fluffy blankets and mouth watering each time you bite down on a strawberry. Rain continues to patter softly against the window, the sound occasionally being replaced by a loud roll of thunder which makes the boy next to you jump. You had laughed at the action, asking softly if he was scared. It was a rhetorical question, you know fully well that he’s always been scared of thunder.

“No! Yes, shut up.” And if you mind that the boy cuddles softly into your side, one arm wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other holds a chocolate strawberry, you don’t say so.

The two of you stay tangled up in each other like that until the credits roll, Hyunjins breathy sigh hitting your cheek as he shifts to get up. You watch with heartfelt eyes as he crosses the dimly lit room, his black hair briefly sweeping across his eyes. You want to reach up and push it away, but right as you manage to sit up straight he’s done with it and headed back to the bed. With a short laugh you realize that your noses are touching.

“Hi.” The word comes at as a short exhale, leaving a taste on your tongue that’s sweeter than chocolate strawberries.

“Hey.” Your heart flutters at the sound, an exhale laced together with a smile, as his arms return to their previous spot around your waist. There’s probably nothing in the world brighter than the smile he wears for you. Stage lights, the sun, every last star in the sky rolled into one. None of it even comes close to the way that his pink lips stretch perfectly from cheek to cheek, “Do you finally believe me?” He brings up a hand to caress your cheek gently, as though to rub away tears that haven’t fallen.

“Believe wh-”

“Do you believe that I never forgot you? That I never forgot any of you, not even the little things like your favorite color or what you liked to eat for dinner. Maybe I pulled away, but I think it’s because even then I knew how badly losing you would hurt. I-I knew that I never wanted to lose you, which is just what I did...” He swallows harshly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “But I’ll never do it again. I’ll never lose you, and I’ll never forget you a-and... And I don’t want to remember you anymore, (Y/n.) I’m so done with remembering, let’s just be.” There’s something stuck in your throat, but it doesn’t hurt the way that tears do. No, this is a release gathering inside of you. One that’s waiting for you to finally give in.

“Hyunjin,” His fingers cradle the curve of your jaw, sending goosebumps down every inch of your body, “kiss me.” And that’s all the confirmation he needs to brush his lips over yours.

At first it’s gentle, almost questioning. Like he’s asking one last time ‘Is this okay?’ But then your hands tangle in his black hair, the way that they’ve been aching to since you first saw him, and he knows that you’re okay. More than okay, you’re in love. With every muscle in your body, you’re in love.

Hyunjin’s hand that was previously holding your face drops back down to your waist and pulls you in softly. They then travel down to your thighs, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips before he picks you up and guides you onto the bed. Every movement is so perfect yet raw, feeling like the stuff of ballets. Until your back hits an unopened glass bottle of lemonade, that is. The sudden cold is enough to make you jump.

“What?!” Hyunjin questions, eyes shooting as wide as saucers, “Did I hurt you?!” A laugh sounds through the room while your hand detaches from his hair, opting instead to reach around your body and remove the glass bottle that’s poking you in the least conventional way possible.

“No.” You answer through soft giggles, bringing up the bottle to lightly tap his forehead, “There’s just a lemonade poking me in the ass.”

He flushes bright pink before answering with a tiny ‘oh’ and burying his face into the crook of your neck. If you were less malleable you would’ve teased him even more, but then there are warm kisses on your skin and nothing in your head.

“I love you.” He whispers, head slowly moving until his lips are against your jaw. You’re going to answer, really, but then there are soft lips on your chin and a smile ripping through your body, “I love you.”

“M-me too.” You stammer dumbly, body going entirely limp as he (finally) presses another kiss onto your lips. The boy pulls away entirely too soon, but it’s okay. There’s something that you need to finish saying, anyways, “I love you too, Jinnie.”

When you fall asleep that night it’s to the sound of pattering rain, with Hyunjins arms guarding you from the world.

The bus back from regionals is quiet, the few sounds that do come about being Chan and Felix whispering softly or Minho giggling at Jisung snoring. You’re about there too, but who can blame you when Hyunjins hands are buried in your hair (which is both stiff and wavy from a combination of hairspray and braided buns.) If you close your eyes and focus really hard you can even feel the rise and fall of his chest where it’s connected with your back.

“Who’s gonna keep our trophy?” The boy questions, lips moving softly against the shell of your ear. It generates a warm feeling in your gut, one that spreads quickly to your cheeks and ears.

“We’ll trade it off on the weekends. Like divorced soccer parents.” He giggles softly, moving forward to kiss your temple.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” If you were a little bit less tired, or a little bit less in love, then maybe you’d joke back. But you’re wrapped up in him like a ribbon on your waist, foot nudging against a plastic first place trophy while his lips move against you in a way that you could get drunk off of.

“Never.” You answer, hand coming up to wrap around his as if it were a vow, “Never.”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #writekpop #admin reid #han jisung #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #this might be one of my favorites yet... i really loved writing all of them #and researching!!

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reidecorating · 4 years ago

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the bau team and their star signs based on science

hotch: clearly an aries. this is not up for debate and i don't take criticism. natural born and excellent leader? maybe. but bossy boots because he is just a bossy boss man who probably sleeps in a suit or those pyjamas that have suit graphics on them? most definitely. when he speaks, his voice sounds like it’s coming out in all lower case, when he yells, it’s all caps. angery. down to throw hands at anything in his immediate line of vision probably. will exterminate you like a roach if you mess with someone he cares about. don't break the rules or my boss will kill me 😡 to you're breaking the rules under MY supervision, that way my boss will kill US 🥰. probably microwaves food a lot. type of dad to say no to getting a dog, then two months later get matching christmas costumes with said dog. never stops working because he is an absolute UNIT built like the circuit of one of those infinity pools in bali. could use another sabbatical.

rossi: i saw his birth certificate and the rumours are true, he’s a november sagittarius. two wives away from being a modern day king henry the eighth. it’s rossi’s world and we’re all just living in it. he is a prophet. his third eye has been opened and he ascended to the seventh dimension at the age of 24. when he takes leave, the only way to contact him is through a ouija board in latin or maybe greek depending on the position of the sun. he will only die when he chooses to die but will dissolve at the words ‘what are we?’. the major arteries in his body are just long pieces of macaroni. definitely has hooked up with one person from every state the jet has landed in. no filter between his brain and mouth, will destroy your self confidence intentionally. uses abbreviations when texting. liberal - because of the experimenting back in college. probably friends with your mum on facebook.

prentiss: imagine her being anything but an air sign. you can't because she's clearly an aquarius?? work comes first (first equal with her girlfriend). if you tell her to do something she simply won't do it, especially if it was something she was just about to do. she once came home from a run with her mother in the summer and her mother politely suggested that she should drink some water. emily, an anarchist, did not drink water and was hospitalised for heatstroke in due course of proving her point of nonconformity. has been to jail. sucks on candy canes and makes them pointy because christmas is one of her least favourite days. on probation. no, i really like him *deletes his number*. maybe moves to iceland to become a sheep herder to avoid having to ever see anyone she has romantically affiliated with ever again. actually quite the jester, joke levels exceed 4000, but can make you laugh and cry in the span of approximately the length of a short youtube ad. the antichrist.

morgan: has at some point caused someone to question their sexuality. am i really a straight man? do i really only like women? - direct quotes from anyone who has seen him. if that doesn't scream libra i don't know what does. i’m trying to refrain from using the words ‘hot’, ‘sex god’, ‘rail me’. the kinda guy who will hold open a door for you, but also have no problem kicking one down for you. has never ditched class before. momma’s boy. tries to make his pecs move in the mirror. he KNOWS he’s hot okay??? but THEN its not just that because people are like ‘oh he's attractive’ but then they find out he’s RESPECTFUL, and INTELLIGENT and COMPASSIONATE and then that awkward moment when you just DIE because he is not flawed??? it’s like he’s a lucid dream??? probably secretly is really good at baking some obscure european good. uses colognes that have really manly man sounding names for instance, ‘Man Musk’, ‘Mystical Muscles’, ‘Beards and Buttercream’.

garcia: the epitome of a female pisces. a baddie™. definitely owns a pair of those really skinny sunglasses that influencers wear and looks like god herself while in them. spirals from being the momma bear to the wine-aunt. she will care about you so hard but if that's not reciprocated, will hack into your my eyes only and fax those pictures to every machine she can connect to. accidentally has flirted her way into at least 19 relationships. really good at writing fan fiction??? like - seriously good. knows 4 different synonyms for the word “member” iykyk. researches things the people she loves most enjoy, so when she talks to them she can have more detailed conversations. catches feelings for people who are definitely not good for her. sometimes just takes off her glasses because she's tired of, well... seeing. hand makes cute lil earrings for her friends. a master at fireboy and watergirl and will never play with anyone else because ‘another player just slows you down, i can do it myself in half the time’. THAT FRIEND WHO WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO TIE YOUR LACES.

jj: virgo. she was definitely that girl who had notes with pretty titles and colour coded highlighters in school. also did extracurriculars in the weekends so she’d have to be picked up from sleepovers early to go to soccer games. when she takes the time to learn something she learns it well and perfects any craft handed to her because anything less than 100% is failure in her eyes. gets annoyed when other people cry for too long probably. will judge you. so much. silently. especially if you cry. don't make her mad because she has caused civil unrest in 13 continents. live, laugh, love signs in her kitchen. security footage surfaced in 2007 of her roundhouse kicking a middle aged man, in the junk food aisle of a trader joe’s, after he took the last re-stocked bag of cheetos. has a ‘mom first, agent second’ mug that garcia got her. likes family walks which will most likely be planned out meticulously, involving a detailed itinerary of the day i.e. Henry’s toilet break, 10AM

reid: he despises star signs and anyone who gives them any thought because “where is the SCIENCE?” this bitch is a scorpio. definitely only knows his sun sign. so intense! have you seen the way he looks at things?? the way he stares??? the way he analyses dead bodies??? the way he loves??? ridiculously put together to everyone around him but emotionally life is soup and he is fork. kinky. breaks off bananas little by little with his hands before eating each piece individually because eating them normally is too sensual and he’s paranoid morgan might see him doing it and take a picture. wants the kind of love he reads about. has a superiority complex about having a superiority complex. keeps a straight face while saying literally anything so you cannot tell if he’s being serious or not like one day he’ll just be like “yeah i killed a man with an axe once to enable myself to more easily empathise with future unsubs who potentially work as lumberjacks or have a history of logging. it’s called method axing,” and then leave the room to draw circles on maps or something. believes that parallel parking should work, in theory, but never seems to work for him in practice.

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years ago

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Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie… [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy.

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice.

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college?

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her?

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year!

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her.

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend.

Ugh, puke…

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house.

Katniss was not happy.

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car.

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague.

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries. That’s when she heard it…

“Is that you, Katniss?”

That voice.

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard.

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body.

“Cato.”

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.”

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her?

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke.

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.”

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history.

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now.

Quickest breakup ever.

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it.

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?”

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.”

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag.

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.”

That voice.

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.”

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.”

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?”

Katniss was confused.

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself.

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day.

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends?

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family.

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red.

“Just let go, dude. You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled.

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot.

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.”

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember.

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain.

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.”

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it.

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious.

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid.

Friends of his, no doubt.

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl.

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.”

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes.

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.”

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss.

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well.

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham.

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did.

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.”

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.”

“Why did you do that?”

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?”

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!”

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.”

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.”

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.”

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well.

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.”

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.”

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?”

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.”

“What is it?”

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.”

°•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry.

Katniss took her chance.

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case.

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do.

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?”

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now.

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-”

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code.

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.”

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.”

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical?

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.”

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.”

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering.

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book.

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling.

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.”

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?”

“Yes, perfect.”

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.”

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.”

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him.

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #evestedic #submission #prompt

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honeypiehotchner · 5 years ago

Text

Alone Together part two -- Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: You’re warming up to Bucky and you equally hate and love it. Bucky has no idea what to do with himself and calls some reinforcements.

With each day that passes by, you’re a bit friendlier to James.

You weren’t going to. You genuinely expected yourself to accept his apology, and remain civil, which you have been, but you’ve been doing more. You don’t escape the room the moment he walks in anymore. The two of you washed your sheets together just yesterday. You were doing it first because your mom had been nagging you to, but James walked in with his own sheets just a few moments later.

It was a strange moment, having the both of you on the same page. Yes, it was about washing sheets, but it was something.

You take walks around campus every couple days just to get out of the building, and James joined you on one today. In complete silence, but you didn’t mind. That’s your whole point of walking is to listen to the world around you.

But you know you’re warming up to James, despite your inner protests, because when he invites you to hang out with him in the common area, you agree.

Two rounds of pool (both of which, you won) and one rematch of ping pong later (James won that one), you both crashed onto the couch, bored out of your minds.

“So…” You decide to try your hand at some conversation. You must seriously be desperate for human interaction. “Why aren’t you at home?”

“Home is Romania,” James says quietly. “They got hit pretty early on and so there aren’t any flights going in or out of the country right now.”

You frown deeply. “I’m so sorry.” He’s literally stranded here. That sounds awful.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs, nodding in your direction. “What about you? I really wasn’t expecting you of all people to be here.”

“What do you mean me of all people?”

“I just figured you had a boyfriend or someone that you’d be jumping at the chance to go home to.”

Your face flushed at the comment. “No...uh, no boyfriend or anything. My sister is high risk, and I didn’t want to accidentally give her the virus — or anything. I’m always super careful when I go home, but this is like on an entirely new level.”

To your surprise, James is serious. “I’m sorry, that must be really hard.”

“Not as hard as being literally stranded here,” you tease.

He accepts the change in tone. “Hey, I’m just lucky they let students stay on campus. Some colleges kicked everyone out. I’m lucky to have this roof over my head right now.”

“Same.”

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you were forced to go back home. Probably quarantine yourself in your tiny bedroom and refuse to let your sister come anywhere near you. You know she wouldn’t listen, though. She never does, and so that’s ultimately why you made the decision to stay here. It’s harder, sure, to be away from your family right now, but it’s for the better.

“I guess it’s not as bad as I thought it would be, though,” James stretches, discreteness being one of his absolute weakest skills. “Since you’re here to keep me company.”

You raise an eyebrow at the arm that is dangerously close to being wrapped around your shoulders. “You’re an idiot, Barnes.”

He retracts his arm. “Why am I an idiot?”

“I’m not falling for your charm. Quarantine or not, keep that shit far away from me.”

He nods. “Note taken.”

You cross your arms over your chest triumphantly. “Good.”

A few beats of silence pass between the two of you, leaving you wondering if James’s intent really was to charm you. But he speaks up again before your brain has the time to give that too much thought.

“Hey Red?”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Fine,” James breathes slowly, almost annoyed, if you had to guess. “Hey Y/N?”

You sigh. “What, James?”

“My friends call me Bucky.”

You roll your eyes. “Are we gonna watch a movie or not?”

Bucky laughs loudly, nodding his head. “Yeah, we can watch a movie. Let me hook my laptop up real quick.”

He slides off the couch to do as promised and you have to cover your smile. Well, you don’t have to considering his back is facing you right now, but you want to. You shouldn’t be smiling. James Barnes is bad news.

+++

“I don’t know what I’m doing, man.”

On the other end of the line, Steve Rogers laughs loudly. “I have to say I’ve never seen you this messed up over a girl.”

“This isn’t funny, idiot,” Bucky mutters, fisting his hair, leaning his head back into the pillows on his bed.

“It’s hilarious!”

Bucky groans. “Why do I even call you for help?”

“Because you need help courting, and I’m the master,” Steve replies, deadly serious.

“Courting? This isn’t the 40s, and you’re not the master. You’ve had one girlfriend.”

“I still have her, thank you very much,” Steve scoffs. “And we’ve been together for long enough that I consider myself an expert.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, damn, okay, I want your help. It’s why I called you in the first place.” Bucky stands from his bed and begins pacing. “She...She drives me crazy, Steve, you don’t understand.”

“I understand,” Steve says, hint of knowing in his tone. “I was the same way when I met Peggy.”

“Yeah, but you and Peggy, you— You’re practically soulmates. She wanted you from the day she met you, and Y/N, she— I think she’d rather be dead right now than be stuck here with me.”

“Didn’t you just watch a movie with her yesterday? And hung out the whole day?”

“Yeah, but I told you what she said,” Bucky pauses his steps, the memory flashing behind his eyes. “She rejected my move, man.”

“Of course she did, you dumbass,” Steve can’t contain his laughter. “Geez, Buck, I didn’t think you’d be this stupid.”

Tiredly, Bucky rubs his forehead. “I don’t have time for this right now. If you’re not going to help.”

“Forget all you’ve ever known about courting a girl,” Steve replies, slower and more serious. “This isn’t about a hookup—”

“No, God, no.” Bucky likes you way too much for that. All of his hookups in the past have been because the girl didn’t want a relationship. But you’re not like that. Bucky isn’t either, deep down, and it’s killing him.

“Okay, good,” Steve says. “But that means you’re gonna have to actually get to know her. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Bucky hisses, defensive. “I want to. You have no idea how bad I want to, but she wants nothing to do with me, so what do I do now?”

“I think you’re overthinking,” Steve replies honestly. “I don’t know about you, Buck, but from what I know about Y/N, if she didn’t want anything to do with you, even this quarantine wouldn’t make her spend time with you. If she really wasn’t interested in at least a friendship, I don’t think she’d agree to watch a movie with you. Or go on a walk. Or kick your ass in pool.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, absentmindedly. “Wait. How do you know her?”

“Peggy and her are friends, sort of. They were in the same history class last semester, so they studied together a lot in the library. I never talked to her a ton, but I saw her when I’d stop by to say hi to Peg.”

“Where? I literally never saw Y/N in there.”

“You weren’t looking hard enough,” Steve chuckles. “Or she was hiding. Probably the latter.”

“Hiding from who?”

“Probably you.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he throws his hand in the air hysterically. “Great, thanks Steve. Really boosting my confidence here.”

“Hey!” Steve laughs. “You’re the one who decided to be the school’s resident playboy. You did this to yourself. You should’ve known better than that. Tools don’t attract the good girls.”

“Then who does?”

“You’ve gotta be yourself, Buck,” Steve pleads. “Just quit overthinking and quit — for the love of God, quit the arm stretch move. It’s ridiculous.”

“Thanks grandpa.”

“I’m not the one who rejected your move, but okay.”

Bucky mutters something inaudible under his breath. His best friend has a point with that one.

+++

You’ve been lying on your bed for the past hour, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve been to the kitchen to make an omelette, around campus for a walk, and attempted to play a game of pool against yourself, all with the smallest of hopes that you’d see Bucky. But you haven’t.

And when it dawns on you that you even had a sliver of hope about seeing him, you texted your best friend. Please tell me I’m not crushing on Bucky.

“Wait, hold on a second,” your best friend leans closer to the camera. She Facetimed you after you texted for a few minutes because she apparently just had to see your face for this conversation. Even though you didn’t want to answer her call. “You’re telling me a few days ago you were ranting to me about how much you were dreading quarantine because of James and now you’re calling him Bucky and you hung out with him all day?”

“Not all day!” You protest.

“Most of the day!” Your best friend fires back. “You watched a movie! And went on a walk!”

“And beat his ass in pool,” you mutter under your breath, realizing a second later that you’re doing nothing to help your case. “That’s not the point.”

“It is most certainly a point,” your best friend replies pointedly. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I have to be going insane.”

“What?!”

“I hung out with James Barnes for God’s sake!” You cry, giving her an incredulous look. “He’s the exact kind of boy I avoid.”

“And now you have a crush on him.”

“I do not!” You hiss, wanting to chuck your phone out the window. “I said please tell me I don’t.”

“Well I can’t lie to you.”

“God,” you run your fingers through your hair, falling back into your pillows on the bed. Quarantine was fine before James showed up -- or, before you knew he was here. Before then. Everything was fine.

“Can I ask you a question you’re not going to like me asking?”

You sit back up, giving your friend a suspicious look. “No.”

“Tough shit, I’m asking anyway,” she snickers. “Why have you been avoiding him?”

“He’s a fuckboy,” you reply easily. “I avoid all fuckboys, you know that.”

“Not Sam.”

“Sam’s different.”

“How so?”

You stay silent. You know what your answer is. And your best friend knows it, too.

You don’t find Sam attractive. Sure, he’s not ugly by any means at all. But he’s not your type. Who is your type?

James. Bucky. Barnes. All the way.

It’s obvious. The guys you’ve had crushes on in the past have fit the same bill. Dark hair, sharp jawline, kind eyes, blinding smile, strong shoulders. Not to mention, James’s style. He’s all monochrome and black leather. You’re the same way, though you experiment with maroon and forest green more.

But the point is...James fits everything.

And you’ve had a subconscious crush on him since the very first moment you ever met him.

You remember the day perfectly, too. You were in the dining hall with your best friend. She had gone to the game (maybe it is football, then) just the day before. He recognized her from there and typical James, he made a conversation. You stayed silent and escaped into your phone, but you didn’t miss the way he looked at you before running off to class, saying it was nice to meet both of you, as if you hadn’t just ignored him.

Since that day you made sure that you were never in the same place as James Barnes, which, to be fair, wasn’t hard at all. You’re not the biggest fan of sports, so unless you have a real reason to go to a game (like a friend performing or very rarely, when Sam asked if you were coming and your best friend would answer for you, inevitably dragging you in), you never went. As far as where you like to hang out, the library is high on the list, and you like to be in a back corner, hidden away from everyone. You like getting genuinely lost in the shelves, both to avoid others and honestly, to avoid yourself.

The dining hall, though. That was always a game to play, a fine line to walk. You mostly kept yourself busy with a book or some form of work, or sometimes so engaged in conversation that it physically pained you, but no one ever interrupted.

But now...now everything is different.

The barriers are gone. The distractions are no more. And you’re stuck in the same building with him for who knows how long.

“He’s not a bad guy,” your best friend tries to explain. “He really isn’t.”

“He hooks up with girls like it’s a sport,” you remind her.

“But do you see him ghosting them? Do you see them feeling betrayed because he led them on?”

You stay quiet.

“James-- Or Bucky, I guess, he’s...I think he kind of went after those girls because he knew nothing would come of it. He wasn’t looking for anything real and they weren’t either. He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to hurt them. And they’re not hurt, trust me. He’s still friends with a lot of them.”

“But he’s just-- We’re so different.”

“From what you’ve been telling me, you’re a lot more alike than you want to admit.”

“How do I know this isn’t just because of quarantine, though?” You murmur. “He never paid attention to me before.”

“He did,” you friend replies quietly. “You were just too busy to notice.”

You aren’t sure what to make of that. And you don’t have the energy to ask. So, you stay silent. Until your friend says she needs to go.

After hanging up, you go back to staring at the ceiling, and battling your own feelings. You have a crush on Bucky. There’s nothing you can do about that.

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crushaa · 5 years ago

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Explaining the long break and how I got diagnosed with ADHD:

This is a post about mental health. There’s a TLDR at the bottom :)

“Apply yourself, Cien. If you wanted to pass this class, you would be trying.”

When I was 15, I got my tonsils out. I got the same kind of statement from a few friends and even family members; “Oh yeah, they used to take EVERYONE’S tonsils out! Even if they didn’t need it, it was the cure to everything. But now everyone’s got ADHD, so that’s the new trend.”

Around the end of July 2019, I was running out of steam. I still had plenty of creative energy, but I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to work on anything anymore. The truth is that I knew I would hit another music block, and I wouldn't be surprised if anyone else expected it too. My posting history has always been very irregular, even back in high school with long unexplained breaks in between new songs. Knowing it would happen, I felt confident in my ability to tackle it and change my pattern of behavior.

I never thought it would last this long. With each month passing by I began to feel guiltier and guiltier, trying to find out why I couldn't do it. I'd sit in front of an empty FL Studio project for hours, and all my Paint Tool Sai canvases never had more than a few lines. As the months went on, some pretty dramatic life events took place- various family deaths, 2 near death experiences myself, an abusive doctor. For whatever reason, I just could not recover.

I used the tragedies as excuses as to why I couldn't do it. It would be reasonable to not be able to do anything. My antidepressants were definitely working for the first time in my life, but why couldn’t I work? I spent the New Year holiday feeling just as guilty and frustrated as ever…. I couldn’t do it anymore. I decided that I was going to go back to my doctors loaded with new theories and ideas as to what could possibly be wrong with me. It never occured to me to tell anyone I couldn’t write more than 2-3 songs in one year when it’s literally my job to write music.

I began speculating the possibility of another psychiatric disorder, and that made me nervous. Would she think I was lying? Or faking it? I could no longer stand the treatment from the nurse practitioner who had been treating my psychiatric illnesses. I’d always been very uncomfortable with how she treated me, but she’d found the rare genetic disorder I had. I felt that I owed my progress to her and that I should stick it out. But I was still leaving her office in tears at the end of every session. An off color comment, passive aggressive reminders to take my medication, the feeling that I had no say in my own treatment plan… it was too much. But she was the only one in town who was available to see me. So I went, and I was administered an MMPI by a psychiatrist in that same building. At the end of February, I’d get the results.

The next appointment with her was the last time she’s ever going to see me. The results of the test had come in as inconclusive, and my world fell apart. She asked what I thought of the results, and I answered truthfully. I told her I was afraid that she saw me as a hypochondriac.

“Well what if you are?” I didn’t answer. “Well, you are,” she went on with a cocky smile.

She began to tell me it was my own fault. She told me I had brain damage. But it was fine, because she told me I could be treated for believing I was still sick.

It affected me deeply, for days I couldn’t stop crying or eat a full meal. The guilt, frustration and embarrassment swallowed me whole; the problem was me. Of course I was making it up. I felt suicidal for the first time in 4 years. There was no point in trying anymore because I as a whole was defective. This world would be better off without a lost cause like me.

I pulled myself out of this headspace for a while one day, and realized that a HEALTH CARE PROVIDER made me feel this way.

WHERE WAS THE BRAIN SCAN, BITCH????

All the guilt, embarrassment, shame- it morphed into a new red hot burning rage. I fired her immediately and revoked any permissions she had. I went to my primary care doctor and asked him to prescribe me my psychiatric medications while I looked for a new psychiatrist, to which he agreed. I asked him for an ADHD test, but he wasn’t comfortable doing it himself. He referred me to a psychiatrist with a 6 month waiting list who then tried to refer me to the abusive nurse practitioner. I set up the six month appointment wait and began to look into doctors in other towns.

On Monday, April 6th, I went to go see a different doctor for something completely unrelated and walked out with an ADHD (Inattentive type) diagnosis. And now less than a week later, everything about my life has changed. 7 long months of executive dysfunction came to an end in the 1 hour it took for the first half-pill to dissolve. Hot damn.

It felt like everyone else in the world was allowed to use the sidewalk to get from place to place, but there was a rule that I had to dodge incoming traffic to get anywhere. Now, I can use the sidewalk too. I am relearning everything that I know.

I am no longer ashamed that I have the GPA of a baked potato. I know that I am not lazy, I am not stupid, and this was NOT my own fault; I was sick and nobody knew. The signs were there, but how we view ADHD has changed entirely since I was a child! People still called it ADD. So why was it so hard to get diagnosed in this day and age?

The stigma has shifted into something far more dangerous than I’ve ever realized it was. I don’t hear “I have ADHD OO SHINY” jokes anymore, you know? We believe it to be a grossly overdiagnosed behavioral disorder meant to punish children for having a lot of energy. We wave it off, calling it the new tonsil removal surgery trend. Of the three types of ADHD; Predominantly Hyper-Impulsive, Predominantly Inattentive (that’s me!), and Combined Type; a mix of the two, there tends to be more stigmatized attention towards the hyper-impulsive type. We believe in what we see, breaking the first rule of mental illness: Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

This leaves those suffering from both inattentive type and combined type to rot. Attention deficiency itself doesn’t have much of a stigma because it isn’t even seen as having a seat at the ADHD table. This is catastrophic and will continue to destroy lives because people don’t feel hyper enough to even consider that they might have ADHD. In turn, those who are told to try harder, apply themselves, stop procrastinating, and to stop being so lazy do not receive the proper care they need. Those who suffer without treatment get worse over time; they lose confidence in themselves, they don’t start new things in fear of the inability to finish, they break promises to friends and family with the inability to follow through, damaging important relationships beyond repair.

My confidence has been shattered. I was the artist who failed art class. College was never an option because I knew I’d go straight back to failing every class I took. I feel like I am a burden and the token “lost cause” of my family, the one everybody worries about because I’m not right in the head. I’ve grown to become a reclusive, bashful adult who struggles to make and answer phone calls and emails. ADHD devastated my life in deeper ways than my OCD, my PTSD, my anxiety or depression ever could.

The number of diagnoses are going up because we can recognize it better. This is not a bad thing- science is evolving to show possible causes of the disorder itself. We know not to smoke while pregnant anymore, we know not to eat and drink high fructose corn syrup, we know not to sit in front of blue light screens all day, and we’ll continue to learn.

As soon as I started my medication, I was able to start taking care of myself and working again. The symptoms of my other mental illnesses began to let up, and I felt like a human being for the first time in my life. I have control over my own emotions- I can walk on the sidewalk with everyone else, I am free.

However, it’s going to take the rest of my life to unlearn the methods I came up with to perform basic self-care functions. It will take many years to gain confidence in myself, to make phone calls without shaking or to even consider the thought of college, potato grades and all. But my mindset has transformed from “I can’t” to “Maybe I could try,” --a first for me.

Question everything, don’t settle for the minimum, and don’t stop fighting. Thanks for reading this post. I'm hard at work on Propaganda part 2 and hope to post it on May 31st. See you then :-)

TLDR: ADHD destroyed my life in ways my depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses never could. The stigma surrounding ADHD is shifting to become more dangerous than it has been in the past.

We live in a society.

#Mental Health #ADHD

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hufflautia · 4 years ago

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Hope you’ve had a great day today 💛

funnily enough, i literally just stopped crying. today was a bad day, I don't know

why but my anxiety was just quite bad today and I was panicking before school started. something happened in my first class and I overthink a lot, so my mind was like, “oh my god why did they write your name last, do they hate me, am I boring, am I forgetful, people are always forgetting about me” and “my teacher doesn't like me, why didn't he respond, I'm embarrassed, why did you have to say what you said??” my English teacher does these “mindfulness” moments in which we sit in silence for a minute and reflect on the day, and I literally started crying. after the minute ended, I just stopped bc I didn't feel like crying anymore, and suddenly my brain said, “ur so fake, ur just acting, why did u stop crying all of a sudden, u just want attention u crave attention ur such a faker!!” also I keep thinking about something that happened years ago with my dad, I don't rlly wanna get into it but I think it would be good if I just say it so that its not jammed in my head. basically, I was really young, like in elementary school; my dad asked me if i wanted to sleep in his room with him, and originally, my mom was sleeping with him and i shared a room with my little brother. however, i was like hmm maybe, and then my dad said, haha ill pay u 5 dollars. at the time, i said YAY OK but now i realized that's so fucking creepy, yall know what its insinuating right?? anyways, i said ok, bc it was just a change from the usual sleep schedule and i liked spending time w my dad, so my mom went to my brothers room (it was a king-sized bed so it was ok, it wasn't a small bed that we had to share or anything like that) and i went to my parents room. basically, what happened was that we went to sleep, and in the middle of the night, (the next part makes me feel so uncomfortable and i feel queasy writing it) my dad slapped my butt really really hard to the point where i woke up and i was like ?????? and then he rubbed it softly immediately afterwards. i didnt know what happened, and i told my sister the day after, and she was confused too. recently i was thinking about it and I'm still confused and a lot more uncomfortable with what happened. here is my theory and i was very upset by it bc no one would want to think things like this- maybe my dad likes hurting women during sex and it was a reflex that night, but once he realized it was me, he tried “soothing me” or some shit by rubbing my butt (i literally hate this, i hate the fact that this happened and i don't like typing it out). no one wants to think about their parents sex life so this was just disgusting to think about. also my brother and mom keep arguing and fighting with each other, and I'm sure i have trauma from hearing my parents argue all the time so i rlly don't like it when they fight. my brother has explosive anger and he literally screams at her, which is very disrespectful; however, she screams at him too and sometimes hurts him, which scares me. I'm not worried about my own safety, I just hate violence i hate abuse, that scares me. so much stuff has happened in my life, and it results in a lot of trauma and other stuff that i don't even know about. i just know im really fucked up, im damaged and it just all felt like crashing down on me today- like everything thats happened, i was feeling anxious for no reason, i was thinking about the past, and i started crying again while watching netflix after school, so i just kept crying and i talked to myself out loud about my day and why i was feeling the way i was. that did help to some extent, and after i did that, i stopped crying, and then my brain said “why do you shut off your crying so easily, you seem fake, you seem like you wanna be sad and cry just so that you can see your pretty little tears drip down ur face like an actress, ur so fake ur so fake ur faking it ur not actually sad”, and the hardest part was that i didnt even object to it bc i didnt feel like anything was real, i felt like i didnt know who i was. i was like ok bitch whatever maybe ur right maybe i am faking it. i dont even know how to explain it, but its like being tired of that nagging and negative voice that you just submit to it, and you say ok whatever sure i am faking it, but in truth, the sadness i was feeling was real and genuine. about 10 min ago, i saw that someone tagged me in a fanfic and while i was reading it, i literally started bawling. i guess it was bc i saw in my email inbox that people had sent me asks, and i was happy bc i thought that maybe the person who sent me the fanfic idea responded back with more details. i was anxious about that before, bc i was thinking, oh god what if they just never respond, what if they just dont care about u anymore. when i saw the asks notifications, i felt a lot of relief bc i thought to myself, oh phew ok people still care about u. when i was crying while reading the fanfic, i couldn't stop crying, it felt endless. i couldn't just stop crying like i had before, and it reminded me of the time when my mom was going out to meet someone that she met on a dating app, and it was in the earlier times when she started doing this; she had gotten involved with some terrible men in the past, men who catfished her and were rlly vulgar and gross. im sure this was somewhere in June, when i had just posted chapter 1 of the slytherpuff series bc when i was freaking out about the date, i wrote about it in my journal and i know that it was somewhere in June bc i wrote something like “mom is going out to meet someone and im nervous, please please please i hope shes ok and careful, im really nervous and scared, no one likes my writing, mom is probably in danger, oh god oh gosh”. it was just a whole bunch of negative and anxious thoughts, including how i was feeling about the whole situation with chapter 1, so that's how i know it was somewhere in June. anyways, basically i was really scared for my mom bc shes had a bad history with online men and i was scared that someone was gonna kill her. i read and listen to a lot of murder mysteries, so my mind was going absolutely wild. i remember on that day, i went to take a shower after writing that entry in the journal, bc showering makes me feel better. when i stepped into the shower i started crying bc i was really scared for her and i was hoping she was safe and ok but i was just feeling so scared so i was crying and i couldn't stop crying. that was the scary part because i just kept bawling and i couldn't stop like i usually do; my brain said ok that's enough, you’ve cried enough, but my heart just kept going on and on and my brain said ok ok jessica holy jesus that's enough and eventually i sucked it up and was kinda ok afterwards but still sad and numb. that was similar to what had happened about 20 min ago. also im sure i was also sad today bc yesterday, my mom talked to me about in-person college visits, and her demeanor was very rushed and controlling. she said, “ok jessica we’re gonna do the college visits, we’re gonna drive there, and your dad is gonna come home for that. tell him that you need to do that, ok? tell him we do the college visits together.” i said that colleges are doing virtual tours, and her facial expression was very strained, she was like “DO NOT TELL HIM THAT. dont tell him that, ok?!” and she was pointing her finger at me and everything. she said, “tell him we’re going to do the physical college tours, which colleges do you wanna visit??” and she kept telling me not to tell him about the virtual tours. it reminded me of whenever she told me to say this or that to my dad over the phone, and i was upset, like oh great ok so dad’s coming home and i dont even wanna see him bc i dont like him that much, and now im gonna have to lie bc dad is probably gonna already know about the virtual tours and im gonna have to pretend that none of the colleges are doing virtual tours. in essence, today was a terrible day. while i was crying my eyes out when reading the fanfic, i wanted to tell something, i wanted to reach out to lee and jolie, but my brain said that i would burden them, im always telling them about stuff that happens (concerning my family or other stuff) and its probably getting too much for them. my brain said that they wont be able to help anyway, im still gonna have to deal with the stuff im dealing with, and no one can help. that's a sad thought, it seems so helpless and sad. sometimes i overthink the smallest things, and when i see a text from lee and jolie that doesnt seem “right”, i think, oh gosh they hate me now, why did i have to say that?? i usually see my therapist every Thursday, aka today, but we didnt meet this time bc her schedule is becoming busy so now we’re gonna do it every other week, so next week i shall see her. perhaps she can help.

thank you for this ask, it seemed so out of the blue bc no one rlly sends asks like this anymore. while writing this, i literally thought to myself, shes like an angel sent from heaven

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animechick2015 · 4 years ago

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My Hero Academia- My Unwanted, Long Ass Ramble That Absolutely No One Asked For......

So being at home 🏡 due to mostly COVID-19 and a crumbling economy, I decided to rewatch all of my favorite animes, from Bungou Stray Dogs, Inuyasha, Demon Slayer, Fairy Tail and finally My Hero Academia. Once again I was entranced by the bright colors, spectacular animation and lovable characters that Kōhei Horikoshi-Sensei created. But coming to the end of the recent Season 4 a revelation came to me: I just don’t like Deku as the main character 😱.

I know. I know. I must be certifiably insane not to love such a cinnamon roll, with his cute freckles, messy green hair and 1,000,000 megawatt smile. But it’s true. I have no interest with him as the main character. After this new discovery I decided to think why I didn’t like him and the reason was simple: he’s predictable or rather his story is.

From the on set we were told that he’s going to be the greatest hero ever. Every arc that he’s been in he comes out on top with a new increase usage of his power. After finishing Eri’s arc I was just like ‘huh, is it going to be more seasons of this?’ Now for those of you thinking well you just watched the anime, you should read the manga.....I read it religiously every week. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing you can bet I’ll drop everything I’m doing just to read and re-read that chapter; find myself on tumblr and read all the fan theories and musings about said chapter. So i know what’s going on in the manga and once again I just like meh he’s going to be on top anyways why should I bother getting invested 🤷🏽‍♀️

Dammit Deku don’t look at me like that 🥺.

I still love him and I am proud of how far he’s come but I just can’t find it in myself to get hyped up for him.

So who do I get hyped up for? Well I’m glad you asked ( I know you didn’t but here it is anyway hehe)

Bakugo Katsuki

The gremlin of Class 1-A. King Explosion Murder. Future Number 1 Hero (I wish). Before anyone can finish asking who my favorite character is in MHA I’ll blurt this angry boi’s name. There’s just something about that drew me in from the very first episode/chapter. Yes he was a JERK, bully and ok he was an absolute asshole to Deku but there was something that kept me thinking I want to see more of this asshole. In the beginning, I thought he was going to be another Sasuke type character: join an evil group at the first chance, battle the main character throughout and eventually find his way back to being good and I was like meh. But then the Sports Festival arc happened and I was oh, this boy’s got potential so I took off my Naruto googles and started to really looking at him. If I’m honest, the first time I saw him as a hero was during his fight with Uraraka. I got so hyped during that match that I was standing and cheering, tears in my eyes for the both of them! When the spectators started to complain about Bakugou being too rough with Uraraka I was about to throw hands with fictional characters. Then when Aizawa gave his speech about Bakugo giving his all and respecting Uraraka and I was sold.

Since then I’ve been an avid supporter of his. During the Kamino arc I was worried but also impressed that he was able to go up again members of the League of Villains and was smart enough to realize that he was holding All Might back from going all out again AFO. His fight with Deku was emotional and I was a sobbing mess. Him going through the Hero License arc with all that guilt showed me his determination to being a hero. Even though he wants to portray that he doesn’t care about anyone but himself, he shows time and time again that he cares about Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero. He’s observant with Todoroki and Endevour during the Support Courses. He pushes Deku. He has so many layers as a character that I want to know more about him. Do I think that maybe he should’ve been the main character, yes I do. But I’m ok with him being a support character as well. I can’t wait to learn more about him and to see him be the amazing hero I know he’ll be.

Uraraka Ochako

Ok this girl right here 👆that’s my sunshine girl and no one is allowed to mess with her. Got it?? Seriously, I love this girl. She radiates warmth, hugs and pure unadulterated happiness. Just something about her face just makes me happy and I just wanna squish her round cheeks. Ok ok I’ll stop.

But seriously she is such an underrated character. I know for a fact she gets a lot of unnecessary hate because one: for being Deku’s love interest (I’m not really invested in their relationship tbh but if it happens I’ll be cool with it) and two: her reason for being a hero is to make money. Funnily enough the reason why she’s most hated by fans is the reason why I love her so much. She’s a young girl from a poor family who just wants to make her parents happy and I relate to that so much it made me want to cry when I first learned of her reasoning. Out of all the characters in the MHA world I connected with her the most. In addition, what I admired about her is that yes, she does have feelings for Deku but she’s able to put them aside and follow her goals. Like damn it who wouldn’t admire that? Who can’t relate to pushing their feelings aside to accomplish their goals? I seriously love this girl. Also, I love that she doesn’t limit hereself. When she started U.A. she wanted to be a support hero because of her quirk but after her fight with Bakugo she saw the potential to be more and she took it, trained and made herself better. She really is an inspiration. I hope we get to see more of her in action and maybe even lead a fight instead of being support. I can’t wait to see her grow and blossom into a badass ass woman who kick your ass while looking like an angel sent from above.

Shigaraki Tomura

Finally, this crusty boi gets me so hyped whenever he’s on screen or in a manga chapter that it’s probably unhealthy. From the very first time I saw him at that bar with those creepy ass hands covering his body I was intrigued to say the least. Every time I see him, I’m silently (not really) begging Horikoshi-Sensei to give me more of him. There was just something about him that screams more.

Fast forward to the Villain arc (one of my favorites tbh) and we learn more about his history and what he had to endure and dammit I just wanted to hug him. It’s so easy to hate the bad guys for hurting people but do we stop to think about who hurt them? And my boy was hurt a lot.....from his family (the ones who were supposed to protect him), the heroes (whose literal JOB IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE!), AFO (don’t get me started on that creepy bastard). And then suddenly I was supporting the villain. A part of me wants Shigaraki to succeed because if he does the hero society will admit their many flaws and idk maybe get rid of the hero vs villain Society that caused problems for generations 🤷🏽‍♀️ just a thought. Honestly if Shigaraki was the main character of this story I think it would’ve been much more interesting. I would definitely like to see more of him and I really want him to shake the hero society to the core.

So there it is.... my unwanted, unnecessary (if we’re being honest here) ramble about MHA. What started as a post about not liking Deku as the MC turned into......this. I’m sorry 😭. But once again I’m not hating on Deku. I love my little broccoli boi and I’ll be supporting him until the time he does indeed become Number One (maybe I’ll get myself a pair of red sneakers to match Deku’s before that happens), but there’s so many more characters that hold my interest other than him. I wish I could’ve listed them all but frankly I’m tired and hungry and I need to take a shot of something after this week’s chapter because Oh My God!!

Anyways, if anyone made it this far down my post, thank you for reading, please don’t be mean and have a great week!

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #bnha uraraka #urakara ochako #bakugou katsuki #king explosion murder #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #my ramblings #please dont bully me #my thoughts #long ass post #sorry lmao

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #333

“imaginary chain / the one you never break / seething all alone”

Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah, I'm pretty open about what I'm afraid of. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What class in high school did you struggle with the most? I honestly don't remember with certainty, but it was probably math or economics. At least, I think econ was my senior year. What could you talk about for hours? Mark, meerkats, a few game franchises... maybe a couple more topics. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah, but I don't have many games on there and rarely touch the ones I do. Do you like gaming? I do, but not as much as I did for most of my life. I mostly just play WoW now, and even that I'm not that into anymore. Part of it though comes from not buying any new games that I'm interested in because 1.) no money and 2.) no proper console, and you can only replay games so many times before you're just... yeah, done. Do you like reading books? Some days. Do you like religion? All things considered? No. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Y'know, growing up, I actually liked watching my younger neighbor play one of those games, but I don't remember which. Though he never actually "played" it... just ran around wreaking havoc, lol. I do however think GTAV was the one that Jason and Jacob started playing together when we moved into the apartment, and I thought the story was okay; I don't think they ever got far into it, though. Definitely wasn't Jason's sort of game, and I don't think it was too much up Jacob's alley, either. Can you twerk? I haven't tried and you will never see me try either, lmao. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes, but I almost never use it. If the last person you kissed tried to kiss you again, would you start kissing them back? Yes. If your best friend of the opposite sex tried to kiss you, would you start kissing them back? No. Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, because of how badly she hurt him. I don't have any negative feelings towards her now, though. We're actually friends, haha. The irony. Are you an easy lay? What weird wording. But whatever, quite the polar opposite actually. When’s the last time you said you were sorry? A few days ago. Are there any songs you listen to everyday? No. Would you like living on the coast? As someone who lives in a state hit by hurricanes usually every year and has seen the incredible damage they usually bring to the coast, no. I don't like the smell or gritty feel of salty air, either. When’s the last time you were really late to something? No idea. That's usually not a problem with me. Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? The last person I actually stopped like-liking would be Girt, and that would be because I just came to the realization I saw him too much as my brother instead of boyfriend. It just always felt awkward. Do you still talk to that person? Yeah, we're good. No hard feelings or anything between us. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No. Do you trust easily? Fuck no. I'll be cautious, at least to some degree, about new people for a while. What is the last song to make you cry? Since I've actually behaved and not listened to any trigger songs, it's been a long while, but it was probably "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Last person you hung up on? I'm sure some automated message. I barely ever answer the phone to numbers I don't recognize, though. Where was your last car ride to and from? To Wal-Mart w/ Mom to pick up our order and then back home. Next big outing? *shrug* Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not really, no. Considering I'm by far my most authentic self online, I actually tend to appreciate virtual friends more, if I'm being honest. I try to keep up with those people. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not really, no. I think I saw Warcraft the day it came into theaters, though. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yep. Tragic romance tends to do it the most, I think. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have one to track my menstrual cycle as well as another that tracks my daily caloric intake, but I'm bad at using it because it's tedious if I actually have to measure something. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Ummm if you mean like, in general, probably my mom's. But this most certainly depends on the subject I'm taking feedback on. What is something society "expects" you to do that you don't want to do and/or don't plan on doing? Shaving my legs came to mind first. Granted, I will if there is almost any chance of someone seeing them, but otherwise, I just don't care. We respect women with body hair on this account and see them as no less feminine. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you're drawn to? I think it's cool, yeah. I should have an answer for this, given architecture was a massive focus in Art History the last time I was in school... Roman architecture comes to my head first, if that says anything. What was one of your favorite things from the nineties? BOY OH BOY, SO MUCH!! I'm probably gonna say the toys. There was some dope shit, man. Do you collect things pertaining to an animal? ANYTHING and EVERYTHING featuring a meerkat!!!!! :''') Do you wish that people were kinder to spiders? Well, yes. I hope everyone in their heart wishes this, even if they're afraid of them. They're very important to our ecosystem, and none are out there to harm us; their existence does us a favor. Where do you normally order pizza from? Domino's (my favorite) or LIttle Caesar's for the price. Did your parents keep anything of yours from when you were a baby? Oh yes, loads of stuff that's stored away somewhere. Do you own one of those "____ For Dummies" books? No, but I feel like we had one at some point? What was the last VHS tape that you watched? Yikes, who knows. Did you watch Boy Meets World back in the day? I actually didn't, no. Our old neighbor though loved it so much that she named her daughter Tapanga (deliberately spelled that way). Who is your favorite Scooby Doo character? I never really had one. Maybe Thelma. If I were to give you a coloring book, what would you want its theme to be? Animals. Have you ever won a stuffed animal at a carnival? Possibly a small one. I can tell you I did however accidentally stab the guy who ran the dart-throwing booth though, lmfao. He was obviously fine, and it wasn't a bad wound. I felt SOOOOOO bad. Are you a fan of narwhals? I'm a fan of any animal. Narwhals are definitely fascinating creatures. Grape or orange soda? Orange. Grape-flavored soda ain't my thing. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so painstakingly boring and repetitive. Did you have a favorite Disney movie as a child? It was and still is The Lion King. Do you or have you ever owned a portable gaming console? Yeah, a GameBoy Advance and Nintendo DS. Is shyness cute? It definitely can be. Have you ever had alcohol poisoning before? No. Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? I'm not a gossip fan. Have you ever vandalized someone else’s property before? Most definitely not. Are your parents divorced? Yes. Have you ever been under suicide watch for 72 hours in a psychiatric ward? Yes; at least here, that's protocol when you're admitted for suicidal thoughts/tendencies. Have you ever gone through your significant other’s phone or social media accounts, or do you respect their privacy? Absolutely not. That shit pisses me off so badly. Do you wear any sort of clothing for religious reasons? No. What's something you worked extremely hard to get? My sanity back. Sounds so dramatic, but I'm literally not kidding. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I remember. How many kids do you want to have? I don't want kids, but to entertain the question, when I did, I wanted three. It's fuckin wild to imagine for even a second that I once wanted that. Do you believe that being gay is a sin? *eye roll* Are you any good at photography? If so, what’s your specialty? I mean it with modesty, but I think I'm pretty good. My favorite thing to photograph are animals, but I generally take most pictures of people by request or pay. Judging by my deviantART account, my nature pics definitely get the most attention. Have you ever been a member of a gang before? Fuckin yikes, no. An infamous gang tried breaking into my childhood home once, so you can probably gather that I would never take part in their "big bad guys" bullshit. Have you ever felt like you were neither male nor female? No, I'm comfortable as a cisgender female. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? NO. Anything with raisins = NO. Do you think you’re attractive? No. Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No, not that I really passed notes to begin with. I'd be mortified, regardless of what it was about. Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? Arctic. Do you have an older brother? Yes. He's technically my half-brother, but I don't see "half"s. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Are your collarbones prominent? Bitch I wish so I could get the damn dermal piercings I've wanted for years. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? As a kid, yeah. So ugly. Do you love yourself? It's... weird. Therapy is making me realize that a part of me, maybe even the bigger one, doesn't, but at the exact same time, I know I have worth just like every other human. I just don't treat myself like I do. What TV shows do you keep up with? None, until Meerkat Manor returns this summer. :') When’s the last time it snowed where you live? A couple months ago we got a little bit of it. Is your belly button pierced? No, but it would be if I was actually skinny. Just in my personal opinion, I don't at all think that that piercing would look nice on someone as overweight as me. Even if my damn dreams come true and I lose all the weight I want, my stomach will never look "normal," even after I get the excess skin removal surgery that will be very high on my priority list for my own self-image that's been nothing but loathsome since 2016. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is the obvious answer. What do you remember the most about your childhood? Lots of imagination. Parents arguing. Playing with my little sister. What age did you get your first hair cut? I have no idea. Do you have a favourite toy from childhood still? No. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of it. Have you ever made bread? No. Would you ever consider shaving your head? Nah. Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? Who says we don't now? Zombifying parasites already exist among insects and such, so like... it's not unimaginable to one day see one developed enough to infect humans. I sure as fuck hope not, but. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have a dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I did this many, many months ago, but I guess watch an episode of The Witcher by my own volition. I don't really do spontaneous things with how routine I am, but I had a random urge to check it out one morning. How loud can you whistle? Not very loud at all. Does anything on your body hurt or itch right now? My knees really hurt. They're getting worse. When was the last time you built a sandcastle? There's noooo telling, it's been many years. Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull? No. Well, not a *real* one, anyway. Just the little ones for kids. If you had to appear on a game show, which one would you choose? Family Feud. What is your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? I absolutely stick to what I know. I am SO picky. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? I'm not immediately sure, but there's probably something. Do you bump into things often? Yes. I've always had this weird habit of like... drifting when I walk, so I do this easily. I just kinda wander to the sides a bit without realizing it. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. Did you enjoy playing Hop Scotch when you were younger? I did. Do you feel uncomfortable going to the movies by yourself? Nah, not really. I did that with Warcraft and it was actually pretty chill. When thinking about your dream home, what do you think would be your favorite thing to shop for? The ~g o t h i c~ decor. Do you ever listen to those lo-fi hip hop/study music playlists on YouTube/Spotify? No. Are you likelier to work harder if you’re being paid? If not, what drives you to give your best effort? I mean, yeah. I'd assume that's pretty normal. Does the fashion sense of a potential partner matter to you? No. Is there anything that you prefer to write down rather than type? I'm unsure. If you download/torrent things, do you remember the first thing you ever torrented? Oh, the Limewire days of music pirating... but no, I don't remember. What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? Something photography-related, but I don't feel like checking. What do you wish your hair looked like? I wish I could pull off pastel pink hair rn. It also desperately needs a trim. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I'm sure I always will, at least a little. Do you get any magazines in the mail? No. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Uhhhhh have I? I don't think so. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom of the last wedding I shot. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No, but I used to do that big time because I loved "rewatching" stuff when I was on the computer. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mother, big time. Who’s the bravest person you know? Also my mother. Or Sara. What profession do you admire the most? Teachers might just win. The patience that must take, among so many other things. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''bornless'' by 3teeth

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jlf23tumble · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Niche Interests

Fixations? Obsessions? This is incredibly hard because I have wayyyy too many niche interests, so instead of stressing about it, I tried to channel the 10 things that immediately speak to me and maybe aren't so obvious from what I post here, like how much I'm obsessed with wigs, doll furniture, incredibly specific blogs, all forms of clothing with pockets, swimming pools, whimsical bus stops, over-the-top bathrooms, etc. etc Instead, I opted for some specifics that feel a little more evergreen and long tailed, like, so LIFE-long tailed that it's tough to nail down when or how they became part of the national psyche. I thank @alienfuckeronmain for the initial tag, and I'm tagging her AGAIN for round two because I know she has a billion additional niche things, and she'll post them, and I'll scream because it'll trigger five other things I neglected to post here, and I'll probably post my own round two, arggggh, insert aggressive sighing. Anyway, I tag ANYONE who wants to do it, just tag me so I can see!

1. Indoor Trees

I have no idea why this concept PULLS so hard because houseplants are kind of meh to me, but you want to plant an entire-ass TREE indoors, in the place where you live? Me, too, and I'd add a conversation pit plus a combo gold/red bathroom, among other things, and, bam, we're in my imaginary dream home, which I have literally, constantly ALWAYS mentally constructed from the time I was about six or so. (If you're curious, it has multiple themed rooms, and the closest I've seen to it recently is the outstanding Dita von Teese AD feature, but Amy Sedaris’s apartment comes close, too). There are two (2) 1960s houses in Long Beach with magnificent indoor trees, but I can't find them online, so have this modern interpretation and cry with me about how I can't visit the multi-story fake tree inside Clifton's Cafeteria for a good long while:

2. Conventions of Fans of Any Kind

One thing that I don't think I'll ever lose is how much I *love* people who are fans of SOMETHING, people who have a passion and create something about it or cosplay it or simply gather to celebrate it and connect to other people through it. The Internet provides in all kinds of ways, but I'm talking specifically about IRL conventions and the way my heart pitter pats when I first walk in those doors, SWOON! And it doesn’t matter how big the convention is or how random, I've been to smaller events like CatCon and the My Little Pony convention all the way up to biggies like WonderCon and Comic Con, and I have yet to be disappointed. I might know jack shit about what I'm walking into, but I want to see the merch, hear about the panels, and check out the people who are fucking PUMPED to be there. Sadly, I think it's gonna be a lonnnnng time until these come back, but I can live vicariously through my old photos, sigh:

3. Dutch Wax Fabrics and African Fashion

I'm not the snazziest of dressers, but textiles, colors, and patterns have been an obsession that has soothed my visual soul for as long as I can literally remember. Wax fabric marries all three of those touchpoints, plus throws in a healthy dose of style, and I count myself lucky to have seen two big exhibits on the subject (this was one of them), oh, how I wish there were more! For sure, there's a fucked up underlying colonial/imperialist history here, but there's also humor and color and vibrancy, a reclamation of sorts, and multiple levels of fashion that take my breath away. I cannot do the different patterns justice at all, but the fan motif is one of my faves:

4. Hearst Castle vs. Madonna inn

These two fall into my #home tag because they're where I'm from, and they speak to me as equally sublime and ridiculous, camp and kitsch writ large and small, different (yet similar!) versions of Xanadu that two rich white men built as shrines to their own personal "taste." And the irony is that a lot of people shit on Alex Madonna for being tacky (the Madonna Inn is...uh, something else), yet praise WR Hearst for all the high-class art and architecture, most of which is fully lifted from desperate churches between and after world and yet they're both more or less the same concept (lodging for weary travelers, self-aggrandizement, questionable taste-mixing). Hearst Castle edges out slightly for me because it's bigger and has spectacular scenery and history, plus it gives me doses of LA noir thanks to the way Hearst killed a guy in a jealous Charlie Chaplin-related rage and Hedda Hopper covered it up, all kinds of old Hollywood shenanigans happened up there, etc. But I'm low-key an expert on both houses of the holy, I'm OBSESSED with both, and we can leave it at that. I mean, come on:

5. Snow Globes

I had to cull my personal collection slightly just to fit it all on the dedicated shelf in my bathroom, and I seriously need to refill all the water lines, but nothing beats a snow globe in terms of memorable souvenir, especially when you put it in a bathroom. The majesty!!! The jewel of my collection is the one from Sherwood Forest because WHY NOT celebrate a historic place and moment in the basic way?? He robbed from the rich to give to the poor, and the gift shop about 100 feet from the tree he hid in does the same! The circle of life! The irony of all the watermarks on this blessed image...protect:

6. Highly Specific Museums

Look, we can all agree that the more venerated museums in the world are a form of garbage in terms of what they represent, what they've done, and who runs them, but I'm here for the museums that collect and celebrate things that tend to get overlooked. There are too many to list that I love that are still thriving, so I'm going to say goodbye to four recently departed faves. RIP to the Pez museum, I'm so glad I saw you and purchased your stale candy souvenirs. RIP to the museum of terrible food, you were a pop up when Phoenix and I saw you, and I will forever think about the worker describing people literally vomiting during their visits. RIP to the currywurst museum in Berlin, I've had currywurst exactly once and it was not for me, but I respect the Journey you took me on, including obscure east German TV shows that helped make you so popular (??). Finally, RIP to the velvet painting museum, there's no way to mince words, the person who owned you was crazy AS FUCK and had zero clue how to run a business, but I'm so glad I saw you multiple times and purchased my own velvet treasure (not this exact one, but remarkably similar):

7. Liminal Spaces: Grocery Store Edition

Confession time for those who don't know me all that well, I'm a big time voyeur, and nothing fills my heart with joy like a walk at 7 or 8 pm, the witching hour when people haven't pulled the curtains, and I can scope out their decorations/furnishings without it being "weird." Another confession is how much I unabashedly adore grocery stores in other countries and will spend at least an hour wandering aisle by aisle, falling in love with how much everything is different yet completely the same:

8. Agatha Christie Novels:

As a child, I was a fairly compliant reader--I had to read something for school? Okay! For my mom? Sounds good! But the books that sparked the initial fire for me to read something purely for myself were second-hand (probably fourth- or fifth-hand, judging by cover art) Agatha Christie short story anthologies, which were the gateway drug to full Agatha Christie novels, then other mystery novels, and so on. But getting back to Agatha, I obviously loved all the stories, but every decade spawned incredibly good cover art (like, exceptionally good), and this particular artist's are right up near the top for me (I go back and forth on a lot of the '50s and '60s ones):

9. Scopitones

I link my obsession with scopitones both to my love of music videos in general and a shop in Austin, TX, that sold DVD compilations of them in particular, but either way, they're underappreciated and kitschy all in one! Francoise Hardy and the rest of the ye-ye's are my forever girls for this medium, but seemingly every country cranked them out, both actual set videos and "live" performances? If you don't know what they are, scopitones were machines that played music videos in French cafes in the '60s (??), so it was sort of your proto-MTV way to see your faves sing and dance. Oh, Francoise...so moderne!!

10. Cover Songs

I have so much patience and love for cover songs of any stripe, the more genre-bending and/or surprising, the better! My only minor beef is the trend in slooooooooowing down songs to make a point, but even those ones have a special place in my heart if they're effective. Live Lounge feeds my hunger the best, but my meta fave for representing this concept is Pulp's Bad Cover Version, which was already lyrically INSPIRED, a song about bad cover versions in terms of relationships, but then they did a video that was a visual "bad" cover version, with actors lip synching over an audio "bad" cover version, and all of it just worked? The cover for the single is someone in the band as a boy, making his own bad cover version of a Bowie album cover, it's meta meta meta, and I love love love, here's the video, if you're curious. In the more sublime cover category, I'm absolutely addicted to all of Orville Peck's covers, I truly hope he officially releases them sometime soon, but I wholeheartedly support any artist who does it:

#tag games #niche interests #god i have a few

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wafflebloggies · 4 years ago

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Second Contact

[more of this]

They were building next door, again. Alan didn’t have any more idea what they were building than he’d had when they’d moved in, but the shuddering noises kept on and on and on, from behind the tall, bleak, green-painted steel wall around the perimeter of the place where the house next door had been. Alan lay awake and stared up at the ceiling, watching the lampshade sway in the pale slant of moonlight, jerking with each percussive thud. The noise usually stopped by midnight. His parents seemed to be able to sleep through it.

The lampshade jumped like a salmon. Alan jolted upright with a gasp. That one hadn’t even sounded like it came from next door. It sounded like something dropping onto the roof of their house, directly over his head.

He told himself to calm down, made himself lie down again. His imagination, it was just his imagination. It had to be. Nothing could-

The window creaked.

Alan was suddenly very aware of the space in the room, the night breeze stirring the curtains, the empty floor, every single hair that was trying to crawl right off his arms and the back of his neck. He'd never felt more awake in his life- he was pretty sure no other ten-year-old in the history of the world had ever been this awake, ever.

His eyes were riveted on the window, where the moon shining against the curtains made a perfect backlit shadow theatre. The shape of Something- a slow, long, spidery, distorted Something- eased up the sash, and slid into the pool of shade under the window.

Into his room.

Alan wasn’t quite sure how he ended up out of bed, but he did it. Before the dark mass under the window started to move again, he had slipped out from under his bedclothes and into the recess between the bed and the wall. Directly in front of him, the tall obelisk of his wardrobe blocked the way. It was the biggest thing in the room- too big, really, for a room this small. It was right between him and the door.

The Something moved across the room. Flattened against the floor by the baseboard, all Alan could make out was the soft pad of footsteps on the rug under his ear. He couldn’t tell how many feet. He couldn’t even hear breathing. Very slowly, praying nothing would catch or shift or creak, he pushed out with his bare foot, felt with his toes under the wardrobe’s nearest corner for the heavy wooden knob of its front leg. The frail one, with the twist- the one his dad kept meaning to fix.

The Something stepped into the moonlight, into the centre of the room. Alan held his breath, shut his eyes tight, and kicked.

The wardrobe moved, but not much. At the horrible shifting creak it made, the Something turned suddenly, and Alan caught the flash of an eye and something else- something unearthly and inhuman that glinted like metal. He kicked again, terror giving an edge to his strength, and flung his shoulder against the back edge of the wardrobe. It was just enough.

The wardrobe toppled, the lower drawers sliding out as it went, thudding into the rug like a handful of giant’s dominoes. The Something let out a single shocked squawk before the whole thing went over, and before the heavy front had even slammed into the floor, Alan was moving, diving across the room for the torch in his desk drawer. He grabbed it and pumped it up, the whirring of the battery loud in the wake of the wardrobe’s settling crash. The strengthening beam of light swung wildly across the room, and Alan scrambled across the bed and peered down at the floor.

“Ow,” whined the Something. “That actually really hurt.”

---8---

“I mean you no harm,” said the alien.

It was a strange thing to say, considering. Most of the alien was sandwiched, firmly, under the bulk of the wardrobe. Alan, who was sitting on top of the wardrobe with his bare feet drawn up, to put as much weight on it as possible, shifted his grip on the mosquito whacker in his hands. He didn’t feel too confident, facing down an alien-robot-monster-thing with nothing but a two-dollar electrified tennis racket, but at least he wasn’t the one pinned to the floor.

He wasn’t entirely convinced by the thing’s delivery, either. The words were ‘I mean you no harm,’ but the way they were said sounded more like ‘you just wait.’

“Who are you?” he said, shakily. “What are you? What are you doing in my bedroom?”

He could feel it trying to pull itself free. It was hard to believe that the floor-shaking crash the wardrobe had made as it tipped had failed to wake either of his parents, but then, the three of them had been dealing with the horrendous construction noise from across the street every night since they’d moved in. Probably, by this point, his parents could have slept through an earthquake with very little disturbance. Alan didn’t dare get down off the wardrobe to fetch them, just in case his own relatively insignificant weight was the only thing preventing the thing’s escape.

The alien squirmed a bit, but seemed to realise it was well and truly stuck. It let out a long, impatient sigh. “Don’t freak out, okay,” it said, “but… I’m not from this planet.”

Alan stared. “Well, yeah,” he said, at last. “You’re an alien robot, I heard you landing on the roof.”

“I’m not a robot- you’re actually being very rude right now, you know? Just because parts of me happen to be inorganic-”

“Rude? You broke into my room!”

“The window was open!”

They stared at each other. The bedside lamp had been knocked over in the initial scuffle, and in the crooked slant of light Alan could see the alien’s eyes, very vivid emerald green and slightly reflective in its metallic face. It wasn’t a big creature. Given that most of it was under the wardrobe, it was maybe about the same size as he was.

“You know, this wasn’t the sort of welcome I was expecting at all,” said the alien. Its voice was loaded with accusation. “It took me a really, really long time to get here, I had a lot of majorly cool plans, and all that’s happened since I arrived is, people yelling at me, and refusing to listen, and now you actually attacked me, and I don’t- I don’t feel like you people are even taking me seriously at all! What do I have to do? Literally, what do you want from me, I’m the first contact you humans have ever had with an interstellar species, exponentially more advanced than your own, would it kill you to show me a little respect? I- I have a ship and everything! I… I…”

It stumbled over its words, and stopped. The silence dragged out for a little bit, and Alan was about to speak when to his astonishment and embarrassment he heard the alien make a noise like a stifled sniffle.

“Are- are you… crying?”

“No,” said the alien, furiously and damply.

Alan arrived at a decision. He put down the mosquito whacker and climbed down off the wardrobe, ready to dash back at any moment if the thing tried to make a move. He padded over to his school coat, hanging on the back of the door, went through the pockets and brought the alien a crumpled tissue, which after some hesitation it took, and blew its nose on.

“My name’s Alan,” he offered, sitting down on the rug by the alien’s side, against the wardrobe. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

It made a sound halfway between a hiccup and an incredulous sniff. “Hurt me? It’d take more than this stupid, flimsy little… uh…”

“Wardrobe.”

“…wardrobe, to hurt me. I mean, it’s kind of squashing me into the floor, but that’s no biggie.” Another nose-blow.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m- uh- well, my name is way too complex to translate into your primitive phonology. You can just call me, uh… the Captain.”

He posed, dramatically, or at least as much as he could, squished as he was between the wardrobe and the floor. He really didn’t look very comfortable.

---8---

“Cool! That’s great, Alan. Maybe you can start by getting this thing off me, how does that sound?”

Alan sat back on his heels.

“Actually, um, I’m not sure I can,” he admitted. “I don’t think I can move this thing by myself. Dad had to ask the guy next door to help us get it up the stairs. Mom says it’s genuine oak.”

“That’s nice,’ said the alien. ‘I’m glad I’m not having my spine crushed by some cheap knockoff.”

They tried, anyway. Alan braced his feet on the wall and pushed until he saw flashing lights, and the alien made a lot of straining noises without appearing to actually help much, but the wardrobe didn’t budge an inch. Giving it up as a bad job, Alan pushed his sweaty curls out of his face and tried to think.

“In movies,” he said, slowly, “kids always try to keep stuff like this a secret.”

“Which never works,” the alien pointed out.

“Yeah, it never- wait, how do you know?”

“Oh, I know movies,” said the alien, shifting under the wardrobe enough to rest his chin on his hands. “I’ve watched all of them.”

Alan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He was just beginning to say ‘what do you mean, all of them?’ when a sound from the direction of his parents’ room down the hall brought him sharply back to the problem in hand.

“I’m going to get Mom and Dad,” he said, standing up. “Don’t worry, they’re… uh… don’t worry, okay? Just try to look… harmless.”

The small alien-robot-kid stuck half-under his wardrobe gave him a look that was at the same time both overly patient and quite unreasonably exasperated.

“I’ll try,” he said.

---8---

Alan knew his ground.

“We can't just call the police, Mom,” he said. “We can't. We don't know what they might do to him. What if NASA decides to, to experiment on him?”

His parents looked dazedly at him, the alien, and each other. They had the shellshocked faces of two sensible, rational adults who really weren’t prepared to be dealing with this sort of thing at 3AM.

“Alan-”

“There's this thing they showed us in class that they can do to monkeys, where they cut it open and put its brain in a sort of dish of chemicals, and it's still alive, and they poke it and make the monkey react, and its body is still twitching around even though its brain is gone! What if they do that to him?”

“Alan,” said his dad, after a rather queasy sort of pause, “it's not our-”

“It IS our responsibility, Dad! Look at him! He's not going to hurt anybody! What if they torture him? What if they kill him, and next week, his whole family shows up and atomizes the planet? We don't know! We're the only people who can do anything now, while his brain's still on the inside!”

The alien had listened to all this with the aloof, dignified expression of somebody who didn't understand a single word. Alan's mother put a hand on his dad's arm, and drew him across the room to the window, where they started to talk in urgent, grown-up whispers. There was a lot of pointing and waving, mostly from his dad, who talked with his hands. Alan watched them, trying to make out what they were saying, but after a minute the alien poked him in the leg.

“What did you tell them?”

“Um,” said Alan. “Just, er, that you're very important and it'd be good for Earth if they helped you, probably.”

The alien nodded. “Very diplomatic,” he said, approvingly. “Tell them they can start by getting this wardrobe off me.”

#Captain Disillusion #cadet disillusion #smol AU #my writes

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