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asthmark · 4 years

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❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

2. he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

3. he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. “cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

4. he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

5. he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

6. you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

7. he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.”

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. “me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

8. he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.

9. he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

10. he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

Text

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

#r's reading log #my reading log #fic rec #stucky #stucky fic rec #fic recs #stevebucky #long post

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years

Text

Ch. Eight

⚠WARNING: Slight mention of unhealthy coping mechanism.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You push open the door to the face, the heat from inside warming your cold hands. You walk up to the counter and greet the barista with a smile.

“One jasmine tea and one black coffee please.”

You pay and move so the next customer can order. You scan the cafe, immediately finding Osamu in the same corner he’s always in. As you approach he looks up from the book he’s reading and gives you a sleepy smile.

“Heya, how’re ya doin’?”

You smile but inwardly frown as you take in the darker than normal bags under his eyes and the coffee cups littered on the table. “I’m alright. Were you able to get any sleep last night?”

He gives you a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. The movement is sluggish and you can’t help but tsk.

“Osamu,” you chide quietly.

“Well now ya know my secret,” Osamu replies. He yawns hugely before continuing. “It’s been a few days since I’ve slept so I know I’m due for a crash soon.”

You frown at him as you remove your jacket. “It’s not healthy for you.” He doesn’t respond, save for looking up from his seat with a sleepy smile. You can’t help but feel a smile tug at your lips. “I shouldn’t indulge you but I ordered you a coffee when I came in, let me go grab it.”

“Yer a saint.” You hear behind you. You’re glad you’re facing away from him as you feel a slight blush take over your face. Your tea and his coffee is waiting on the counter for you, the barista giving you an extra smile before you walk back. Osamu’s watching you return to your table, the same dopey look on his face. As sweet and docile as he looks you can’t help the twinge of guilt that shoots through you. Sure he claims he doesn’t sleep but he also stayed up late to talk to you last night and was there for you when you needed someone. So his current state can 100% be blamed on you.

“It’s the least I could do.” You say as you set your cups down and sit. “You’ve bought me tea before, and you helped me last night.”

Osamu waves his hand while sucking down his coffee. You shake your head at his dismissal but don’t bring it up again. You two sit in silence, enjoying each other's company and the atmosphere of the cafe. You steal a few glances at your friend, examining his face as close as you can without staring. Now that you know he chooses sleep deprivation to help with his problems you can’t believe you didn’t notice how tired he actually looks. He’s hid it well these past few weeks, and that makes your heart clench painfully.

You notice he has a tuft of hair sticking up in the back. It honestly looks adorable but you motion to his head so he can fix it.

“Your hair is sticking up weird.”

At the blank confusion on his face you lean forward to try and help him. “Here, just,” you bring your fingers to his grey locks. His hair is smooth and soft, surprising you. You shake your head and focus on fixing the one stubborn bit of hair that refuses to go down.

Once it does, you run your hand through his hair a few times, attempting to capture a relaxed, windswept look. In your motions you glance at Osamu’s face.

He’s watching you, wide-eyed and seemingly frozen to his seat. His expression makes you falter, your hand resting in his hair. Imperceptibly, and if you had to bet without his doing, his head leans into your touch. It’s your turn to freeze but only for a second before you sweep through his hair one last time and retract your hand.

Why did I do that? Your face feels hot as you quickly bring your hand to your tea and take a hasty sip. Why the heck did I just do that? You swallow the tea and gently set it down before chancing a glance at Osamu. He’s looking out the window of the cafe, but you can spot the blush on his cheeks.

It makes you blush even more and you take another sip to try and calm down.

“So,” Osamu finally says. “You said you had a group therapy session yesterday, right?”

You nod, eagerly taking advantage of the change in topic. “Yeah, it’s something that one of my friend’s therapist told him about. We’ve been going for about three months now. It’s specific for people who’ve lost those who were like family, but I know people who’ve lost relatives are welcome.”

“Hm,” Osamu hums in reply. “Well I might look into taggin’ along one day.”

“That’d be great! It’s helped me and my friends talk through our problems with other people, and it’s helped us communicate with each other as well. My own therapist said it was a good idea too. I can’t imagine your therapist wouldn’t say the same.”

At that Osamu scoffs. “I don’t have a therapist.”

You tilt your head. “What? I thought you said something about your therapist when we first met?” You know he certainly did.

“Oh, that was my therapist back home. But he was crazy, he was always trying to push me into havin’ an emotional release. And when I told him to stop he didn’t.” Osamu rolls his eyes. “Plus I didn’t think it was helpin’ me all that much. So I haven’t found one since movin’ to Sendai.”

“Oh.” You really didn’t know how to respond to Osamu’s cynical explanation. You couldn’t fathom the idea of not seeing your therapist and having that professional outlet to help you. Not only did your therapist offer explanations for your feelings and insight, she’s also kind and generous. Your sessions are a safe place where you can grieve properly and feel no shame.

Hearing Osamu speak bluntly about his less than ideal experience with his therapist back home and his now negative opinion on therapy in general doesn’t sit right with you, but you don’t feel comfortable trying to get him to change his mind.

“So how far away is home?” You ask, changing the subject again. You think it's a safer topic but Osamu furrows his eyebrows.

“Hyogo.” He answers shortly.

“Wow, that’s far right?”

He nods. “Sendai U is a good school and I needed a change of scenery.” His replies are clipped and he doesn’t meet your gaze. You sense his uncomfortableness.

“Was it hard moving away? Are you lonely?”

Osamu pauses in bringing his coffee cup to his mouth. He looks over the rim at you appraisingly.

“Nah,” he says. He takes a sip and sets the cup down. WHen he swallows he gives you a friendly smile. “Not so lonely anymore.”

The soft gaze aimed your way sends your heart into overdrive. Another blush threatens to overtake your face and you have to look away.

You don’t miss the satisfied smirk that touches Osaumu’s lips and you feel your blush deepen.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: After that last chapter Y/N NEEDS some tender comfort from Osamu....and it looks like someone is catching some feelings!!! It still seems like there's a bit of mystery around the guy still but it looks like things are progressing nicely for Y/N and Osamu.

I want to mention that opinions about therapy and coping mechanisms in this story are my strictly my own. I am not the leading authority on seeking treatment for any mental health or physical health reasons. In this story Y/N is proponent for seeking help for mental health, but Y/N is not a doctor either. This is a fictional story, and if you are reading this unsure of whether or not you need to seek help, please consult a doctor or someone you trust.

And after that last chapter I threw in some Makki and Mattsun crack because I love them and my petition for them to adopt me is still pending. :/ And we're just gonna ignore Oikawa for now kthxbi.

Thank you so much for reading - I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow

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kittymsmithwritesstuff · 3 years

Note

Legends react to being hit on by another legend? could be interesting! sorry for sending two i just rlly want u to make more 💕

Hey, sorry for being so long to reply! Because it would be a lot to do a reaction for everyone, and I feel the reactions would be extremely different depending on who hits on/flirts with who, I narrowed it down by tackling what I would probably consider my personal major ships, sort of in order by which ones I got into first; miragehound was definitely the first, though the last four kind of all came on in S7 with the invention of my newest coping mechanism, Mary “Horizon” Somers.

This also turned into more of a “Legends react to other legends hitting on/flirting with them/asking them out on a date”, just kind of whatever I guess. Ships listed below, ship names applied to the paragraphs following:

MiragexBloodhound, CryptoxWraith, WattsonxMirage, HorizonxBangalore, HorizonxLoba, RampartxLifeline.

Anyhow, here we go.

Miragehound – Mirage x Bloodhound

Bloodhound: It’s probably happened before in a joking manner, because it’s Mirage, but when they realize he actually means it this time they’re totally caught off guard. If they’re wearing their mask, they are blushing like the dickens underneath it and smiling because he’s sweet and kind of funny about it, and they really don’t get that often. If they are not wearing a mask, they are trying so hard to not let it show, except they’re grinning like a dork so RIP Hound, Mirage won this one (and also probably your heart).

Mirage: Just a bumbling mess. Bloodhound was probably kind of blunt but also weirdly poetic because They’re Just Like That, probably compared him to the sun or something and he stumbled out a “thank you” and then was like, “your goggles, goggles they’re, you know they’re hot-er-cool-er-I like – your face.” If he hasn’t seen their actual face, he’ll try and add that he’d like to see their face to try and flirt back and then wish he could go consult his 14 year old self, because that guy got two girlfriends at one point and he could really use his advice right about now.

Cryptaith – Crypto x Wraith

Wraith: She wouldn’t know she’d been hit on until an hour later, because Crypto’s version of hitting on someone is probably, “your hair looks nice” or “you’re really good with that knife”. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t know for sure until he offered her some of his lunch, since the man is pretty well known to think everyone is going to poison him. Frankly, she’s quietly flattered.

Crypto: Error 404: brain not found. Issue: Pretty girl flirted with me. Initiate shutdown and embarrassment protocols immediately. This will prompt an immediate system override, he will forget how to talk, trip over something, squeak and run away with his head down in his collar like a turtle. Unfortunately (read: very fortunately) for him, Wraith thinks it is adorable and will probably proceed to flirt with him more and forever.

Wattage – Wattson x Mirage

Wattson: Surprisingly easygoing about it, a little flustered but manages to say something right back with a grin. She definitely did not practice flirting in her head. Never. She will later tell her Nessie or Horizon all about it.

Mirage: Not quite as nervous as with BH but he does bumble a little because Wattson got him when he least expected it. Probably teased him about his equipment not being waterproof and he went on the defense, citing all the alterations he’s made and she said something like, “pretty and smart? I like that.” He got shot while trying to think what to say back.

Horizonlore – Horizon x Bangalore

Bangalore: So, this woman is oblivious. I’m talkin’ brick wall oblivious. No goggles underwater blind. Driving in a blizzard with your lights off so you miss every sign along the way. Horizon hits on her blatantly. Several times. Horizon isn’t sure she’s into women, Loba promises she is. By all calculations, saying, “you’re so pretty I could kiss ye right here in the dropship, lass” should instigate something else than, “oh, uh, thank you! I like you’re hair.” It’s the day Horizon finally says, “you look great in those jeans, want to go on a romantic date?” That Bangalore realizes and has to sit down and contemplate how much of a dumbass she is.

Horizon: Significantly less oblivious, it only took her about three days to realize Bangalore had been hitting on her. She now perks up like a puppy every time, especially since most of what Bangalore says is (sometimes revamped) Shakespeare quotes. Yeah, they’re both romantics.

Horizonhound – Horizon x Bloodhound

Hound: Pretty girls make them stupid. She says anything that can be interpreted as flirtation and they’re hardly much better than Mirage, though they’ll say something poetic and kind of pretty back regardless, thanks to a little thing called “random immeasurable luck”. Having the favor of the gods helps, too.

Horizon: So Bloodhound doesn’t so much hit on Horizon as perform a complicated mating ritual that begins with bringing her small gifts and trinkets and then evolves into book exchanges and evolves from there into actual conversations. Then that, finally, evolves into them growing a pair and, while watching her do something mundane, casually state, “you know, I have recently realized I might have a thing for redheads, felagi.” They are not prepared when she states that she has a thing for blondes and, “I’d like to ken if you’re part of the rule or an exception at, say, at 7?” Because she has been waiting for them to say something like that and takes great satisfaction in practically knowing they’re blushing under their mask.

StarStealers – Horizon x Loba

Horizon: The first few times she didn’t think anything of it, since Loba is just like that. But then there’s a time after a game that Loba says, “I’d like to see you around a lot more often, beautiful,” and tucks a piece of paper in Horizon’s hand with her phone number on it. Horizon probably covers her mouth while giggling like a schoolgirl because it’s fucking Loba and she would have never guessed she’d be interested in her but fuck is she not complaining. Smart pretty women are kind of her ideal.

Loba: So, Horizon is such a sweetheart and whatever method she chooses is probably a little dorky, and maybe a bit clumsy being she’s rather out of practice but will probably involve a love note with a really bad science pun on it because she asked Wattson for advice. Whatever it is, Loba is absolutely head over heels. If she’s in the dropship or otherwise visible, she just slowly grins. If she’s alone she bounces in her seat and might even giggle, just a little bit. She keeps a copy of the note taped to the inside of her Apex locker like a lovestruck teenager (this is, provided, they end up in a relationship).

Rampline – Rampart x Lifeline

Lifeline: Rampart tends to go big or go home. After spending approximately 2 weeks debating with herself internally, Rampart just waltzes right up to her, leans on the doorframe or something and says, “do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” Lifeline would think she was joking and laugh, wave her off. Then Rampart would sort of panic and say, “no, I mean, like, you wanna like, uh, I like you but in a gay way.” Lifeline then smiles brightly and arranges a date on the spot, much to Rampart’s relief.

Rampart: They’ve been hanging out a bit and are chilling when Lifeline just sorta says, “hey, I think yuh really pretty, you know?” And Rampart, with all the grace of a donkey on roller skates, says, “that’s neat” while her voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old boy’s. Somehow Lifeline’s laugh banishes most of the embarrassment, and she even manages to flirt back without stuttering.

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fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Text

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Thirty-Four: Lights, Camera, Action

(Previous Chapter Here)

Major TW for android gore and descriptions of being in agony and stuff. Because, uh, yeah, this chapter is intense-

Kai really needs to learn how to behave huh

Original walks silently down the halls, eyes kept straight ahead as it does. It had recently been given permission to occasionally move from room to room without supervision or handcuffs, and it finds that this allows it to work much more efficiently than it had before.

Opening the door to the workshop, where it had been told to go, it pauses a moment. Should it go and sit down? Or should it wait for orders?

After a moment of hesitation, it walks over and stands a few paces away from Master. It will wait until she notices it and tells it what to do. That way, it will be able to avoid any potential errors.

“Original.” She turns to face it, an expression of mild annoyance on her face.

Annoyance? Did it do something wrong? When? It doesn’t remember doing anything. What could it have-

“Yes, Master?” Original cuts off its thoughts. It shouldn’t think about things that aren’t beneficial to a master- it’s a waste of processing power.

She gestures to the work table, and Original quickly sits down. Is it here for a punishment? That’s odd. It still can’t recall doing anything wrong recently… but then again, Master doesn’t need a reason to hurt it. Given that it’s not alive, it doesn’t matter what any human does to it- a machine doesn’t have any feelings to be hurt.

“Today we’re going to be doing something a little bit different.” She watches it for a moment, and Original nods its understanding, waiting for her to continue.

It could swear that there’s a twitch of a smile on her face as she turns around, picking something up from a nearby table.

She holds it out for it to take, and it quickly does, studying the oddly shaped piece of metal. After a moment of consideration, it glances back up to her. “What would you like me to do with this, Master?”

Again, Master seems to be vaguely amused. “It’s your faceplate. We had to take it a long time ago, back when you were being disobedient. But for now, I want you to reattach it.”

“Yes, Master.” Original answers, looking over the faceplate once more. It looks as though it should connect relatively easily…

It glances at Master once more before lifting the faceplate up, pressing it against its facial workings.

A loud ‘click’ echoes outwards, and Original feels the metal plating snap into place, suddenly tight against it.

The feeling is… unusual. It can’t recall ever having anything against its facial workings, but Master said it did, so it must have. Still, that doesn’t make the feeling any less awkward.

“Is everything alright, Original?” Master’s voice has a mild threat to it, and the nindroid answers without a second thought.

“I am functioning at an optimal level. Thank you for your concern.”

Any digital feelings it may have are inconsequential to its Master, and do not deserve any kind of attention.

“Good.” Master nods once before turning away. Wordlessly, she walks out of the room, leaving Original by itself.

It blinks in coded confusion, but then recoils at the odd feeling. The mechanical eyelids seem to almost itch against its optics, and Original finds itself starting to grimace.

Quickly wiping the pseudo-emotion away, a new realization dawns on it. Being so unused to having something so expressive attached, it will likely be much more difficult to hide the code that mimics human feelings.

Well, that is certainly not ideal, but Original will simply have to do its best. It will likely be punished for any mistakes, but hopefully that will help it do better in the future.

It looks over at the doorway as it notices Master re-entering the workshop, this time with another person. After a moment, it recognizes him as the one who had been there the time when Original had been made to manipulate its own inner workings.

That had been a very… uncomfortable experience. Somehow, other hands inflicting the pain seems to make it more bearable. Of course, it’s not as though it’s real pain- only a digital mimicry of it. Nindroids can’t feel anything; they’re not human.

It tilts its head as it watches the mechanic set up what appears to be some kind of camera. What do they need that for?

“You are not going to speak during this. Not even in acknowledgement- all you will do is nod. And unless your focus is on what you are being told to do, I want you looking at the camera. Is that understood?” Master looks it dead in the eyes.

Original nods its understanding before turning its gaze to the camera. Something about this situation is putting it on edge, but it ignores the coded unease in favor of waiting for more instructions.

The mechanic picks up a clipboard, looking over… wait, are those the blueprints they took from the treehouse?

Looking closer, it recognizes that they are- mostly. There seem to be a lot of modified details, but-

“Shirt off, open your chestplate,” the mechanic orders, grabbing its attention. Original is quick to comply with the command. It fumbles with the seam on its torso for a moment, as it’s not used to being the one opening it. The slip up couldn’t have lasted for more than half a moment, but that’s likely enough to deserve a punishment.

Still, it tries to keep the flash of pseudo-fear off of its face as it waits to be told what to do next, returning its gaze to the camera while it does.

“There’s a set of spiral bevel gears on your left side, about where a human’s ninth rib is. Between them and your main cooling fans, there’s some green and purple wires. Disconnect them from the system they attach to near your core.”

Original quickly glances down, using the diagnostic it had run the first time to help locate the mentioned wires. With a nod of acknowledgement, it carefully reaches inside, taking one between its fingers. Slowly, it traces it to the connector port where it attaches to its artificial stomach.

It hesitates for half a moment. Should it detach them all at once? Or one by one?

Well, the Master hadn’t said to do it one at a time, so it would likely be best to do it all together.

Returning its focus to the task, Original takes the set of wires into its hand, wrapping them in a tight grip.

It tears them from their ports.

A thing that Original can only describe as nausea washes over it as sudden warnings flash in its vision.

It fights to keep the artificial pain and fear from showing, but it can’t help the low and strangled gasp that escapes it at the jarring sensation.

With a quiet, hopefully decently muffled whimper, Original returns its gaze to the camera, allowing its hands to tightly grip the edge of the work table.

The churning feeling in its gut almost makes it groan out of discomfort, but it’s able to at least suppress that much.

The Master continues with his instructions, and even through the uncomfortable torment, Original continues, mutilating its insides, ignoring the oil and grease starting to stick to its fingers. Even when it almost painfully drips down over its innards and sensors, it keeps following the orders to the best of its ability.

“Just above where a human’s hip would be on the right side, there’s a flat panel against the inside of your outer layer. Pull it down until it brushes against the top of the console with a set of switches.” The Master looks down at his clipboard as he speaks, seeming to be going over something.

Nevertheless, Original nods, pushing past the discomfort in order to follow the command. But when its fingers brush even gently against the mentioned panel, sudden throbbing pain flashes through it.

It can’t resist the shaky and pained cry that forces its way out its throat- though it manages to cut it off rather quickly.

Glancing back up, it silently curses itself for the wince that forms when it notices its prioritized Master’s withering look.

Even though it’s unable to control its shaky breathing, it does its best to push past the artificially-made nauseating discomfort, reaching inside itself again.

This time, it braces itself, preparing for the pain that’s sure to hit it.

Before it has time to back out, it yanks on the panel, dragging it downwards.

The red-hot agony floods through it once more, and Original shouts out again, the hurt scream forcing its way out even as it tries to suppress it.

Body trembling heavily, Original jolts forwards, hands returning to the edge of the table as it curls in on itself, the ‘nausea’ from before only adding another layer of throbbing discomfort as the sharp, hot, tormenting agony wracks its whole body, making it almost fall into the nindroid equivalent of tears, breathing rapid and shaky and unsteady as its power source grows uncomfortably hot, yet another sensation that makes it-

“Up at around your-“

No, no, it can’t- no, this already too much, it- it needs a minute, and minute to adjust-

“-collarbone area, there’s a cable that-“

First Master, it just- it needs second, just a few seconds, to let it- to help it cope, please, it just- it can’t handle-

“-connects from your power source to what would be-“

It- it knows that it hasn’t been very long, they’ve only been doing this for an hour at the very most, but it- it’s already too much, it knows that it’s being weak and that it’s pathetic and worthless but it can’t- it can’t do this, it needs to-

“-your spinal cord. Detach it from its connector.”

Shaking, panting, knowing that if it were human, if it were actually, really human, tears would have begun to form, it forces itself to pull itself together, to move, to reach for the mentioned coil, to actually follow orders the way it should, the way it’s meant to, the way it was built for.

“Yes, Mas-“ Original cuts itself off, internally cursing and yelling at itself for its mistake. Master had said not to speak, not even to acknowledge what it had been ordered to do.

Body trembling, shaking, highlighting exactly how pathetic and worthless it is, it manages to get a grip on the cable, barely able to even try to keep its digital misery from showing.

Sucking in a deep breath, it follows the instruction, roughly pulling the coil from where it connects, and-

And almost falling over at the sudden fuzziness that glazes over its processor.

Weakly, it groans, barely even able to register the sharp and piercing glares thrown at it.

It manages to look back up, dismissing the warning pop-ups that appear in its rapidly deteriorating vision. The room seems to be almost spinning, even the table under him feeling much more unsteady than it knows it is.

Shaking its head, Original tries to bring itself back to reality. But it- it’s just so much, too much, the pain and disorientation, the heat and the fuzziness, it just takes over so easily.

Helpless to the horrible, sickening, miserable sensations, it can faintly hear more weak and uncomfortable whimpers and groans escaping it.

It can barely even register it when it’s shoved down on the table, back flat against it as rough hands reach into its already unbearably pained body.

Through its haze, it manages to recall its orders.

Body sending agony at a level too much to even begin to process, it manages to move its head just enough to lock its eyes on the lens of the camera.

Then a flash of something too intense to even name wracks through it, tearing one last final scream from it, vision wavering and flickering-

Before everything goes peacefully, blissfully dark.

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago fanfiction #zangst #psychological torture #torture

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tosikoarts · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet | Kikuta

Ogata is next. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kikuta is so serious that it comes off extremely funny. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for quite a while so getting back in the game gives him headache and upset stomach. For a person that pompous, with a damn jacket made of collected guns, he acts awkwardly sweet and romantic, and he is also a little afraid that it will push his potential partner away. In short, Kikuta is a mess.

Opposite to his own state, Kikuta wants to bring peace to his loved one’s life. He tries to pull off image of ideal man, one that will take off his jacket and cover a puddle with it just for his partner to stay clean. Seeing encouragement makes him more confident, less nervous, and therefore more refined. You’ll be drowning in attention, gifts, praise. Later, Kikuta gets comfortable with his own clumsiness and awkwardness and just laughs it away.

Relaxing together is a must. Impromptu rest in hot springs, not in those controlled by establishments, but in wild ones, is a great example. Reading aloud? Yep. Chilling under the blankets? Yep. Massages and back rubs? Yep. Kikuta manages to make everything wholesome. Thankfully, war couldn’t kill his kindliness.

He voluntarily takes on the role of a guardian angel to protect his loved one from world’s harshness. Kikuta wouldn’t want them to see what he has seen - pain, cruelty, disease - so he made it his goal to improve himself and the world around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The highest possibility of becoming Kikuta’s friend is either being soldier of 7th division or being nurse that patched him up few times. He is rarely seen out of his missions so chances to get acquainted with him randomly on a street are low.

Kikuta is the friend that bails you out of problems, no matter how serious they are. In a street fight, he will kick any thug’s ass and make them beg for mercy. If you lose the bid while gambling, he will offer his own money and give you a chance to win some back. Overall, you can always rely on him.

Get ready for philosophical conversations over the glass of whiskey. He likes to talk on a variety of topics, especially abstract ones, like life and death, moment and eternity, love and hate. Most of the reasoning comes down to Kikuta’s military experience but can you blame him for it? Many allegories with weapons: “time flies like a bullet”, “life is just being at gunpoint without realizing it”, etc.

Most likely, he will be looking for a person whom he can serve as a father figure. Kikuta needs someone to look after thou he will rather die than admit it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kikuta has to be in specific mood to initiate cuddles and receive them. If he is busy, he will give his partner a faint smile and ask them to wait a little. Surprise, he doesn’t like spooning since it deprives him of the possibility of seeing their adorable face. Half-spoon sounds good and gives more opportunities like kissing his loved one in the top of their head or ruffling their hair. Honeymoon hug is the all time favorite that he likes to initiate right before falling asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mediocre in both cooking and cleaning, but, boy, does he want this domestic life? Absolutely. Kikuta dreams about getting away from military, finding a new, maybe, not that exciting, stable job, and settle down with his favorite person and few pups. Hardly anyone knows about it, but thought about a small yard where one can sit and watch the slowly falling leaves in autumn or play in a first snow with his own child in winter makes him so soft. Waking up in the comfort of own bedroom, cooking dinner for the whole family, wandering around his own house… Kikuta can’t wait for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Comprehensive information about the break-up will be presented at its best in oral or written form. Kikuta addresses everything they are interested in, from reason to the wish to stay friends since his care for their feelings is infinite and he wouldn’t want to leave them without proper closure. After parting ways, Kikuta gives them space to recollect themself, let off the steam, and recover but he plans to come back in their life as a good friend (if they are okay with that, of course).

Kikuta is one of the people that got your back even after bad break-up. You could throw a tantrum, tell how much you hate his guts, and still he will check up on you, protect your name behind the back, and treat you with the same respect as always.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Typical traditional looks on marriage, would want to get married after 1-2 years of relationship. After the appearance of attachment, Kikuta can’t imagine himself with anyone else even if there is a more suitable partner right under his nose. His trust in them is immeasurable: their worst flaws do not don't bother him that much, and when they do, Kikuta tries to gently persuade his loved one into more appropriate behavior. Their past doesn’t matter either unless it is associated with straight-out high treason. Like he doesn’t justify anything but doesn’t seem to emphasize attention on the past wrongs. He is one of the most committed man around, really.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

You have to have Kikuta’s heart set on you for him to show the gentle side. He is polite, it's true, he knows how to court person, but he must force himself to put tenderness in action. Good news: it works like a physical exercise. The more often you do this, the easier it gets. Over time, Kikuta feels comfortable enough to call them pet names like angel or dearest, even in public, without worrying to appear vulnerable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not the biggest fan of the hugs, but likes to put one arm around loved one’s shoulder. There is no particular reason, Kikuta is just too awkward when someone hugs him. Only his fingertips land on their back or waist, never the whole palm, and he tries to keep some space between them too. The exception to the rule is first meeting after long time apart when Kikuta wants to press them into himself, hold them as close as possible, and live this moment to the fullest.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Hard to say. If Kikuta sees frivolous attitude on their part, if he feels that he is just another pit stop on the road of their love victories, he will keep confession for someone else. Also, Kikuta either chooses the best romantic moment to confess or does it in the most awkward inappropriate time possible, no in between. After this, he is still hesitant to throw sweet words to the left and to the right but he eventually thaws and turns in the softest man, muttering sweet nonsense in his loved one’s ear.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kikuta can be characterized as selectively jealous with a high threshold of tolerance. He has few people he wouldn’t want see his loved one around and he doesn’t care about everyone else, seeing them as unworthy opponents. One of the chosen people is Usami. Despite belonging to the same division, Kikuta doesn't trust him one iota. Superior private irradiates chaotic energy and aggression that easily can transform into harassment just to annoy Kikuta and bug him. Another one would be Tsurumi, known for the persistent love conquest and violent ways of achieving his goals. The last one would be Tsukishima, simply because he looks like a competitive man in his silent seriousness and devotion.

Poorly tolerates his loved one acting flirtatious, especially with three people listed above. His main coping mechanism is distancing which allows Kikuta to think about the situation and make sure he isn’t overreacting. After that, he decides to discuss the problem since he does want to make this relationship work.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sensual kisser. He starts out as a man who knows what he is doing, skillfully and gently, and grows pretty demanding over the time. Kikuta likes to kiss in a secluded environment where there is no need to worry about anything other than the person in front of him, completely surrendering to growing passion. Yep, lip biting, tongue sucking, everything at the right time and in the right place. Lip kisses are his favorite because Kikuta knows nobody does it better, okay, but he is down for anything else too. He likes to kiss his loved one on the neck as well as plant kisses on both of their hands. And where he likes to be kissed? Lips and, who would expect, clavicles, and chest.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing little kid automatically makes Kikuta nervous since, despite the efforts made, he has difficulties in communicating with them. The only fear Kikuta has is not death, nor prison, it’s crying baby that won’t fall silent after few coos and short cuddle. After several unsuccessful interactions with kids, he wondered if he could become a good father in the future and self-given answer was depressing. If his loved one wants to have children with him in the future, they have to rake the mountain of his doubts.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chances are you won’t catch Kikuta in the morning because of important business he has to run through the work week. Maybe, you will hear the sound of a slamming door or receding footsteps but nothing more. On the weekends, this man always wakes up earlier than his partner, and almost immediately gets out of bed. Half of the times there will be an easy breakfast waiting for you on the table, and the other half you’ll find Kikuta industriously doing varied housework Cuddles (or something more intimate) are rare, but Kikuta is more than willing to make up for it during the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Balances time at home and nights out well. Small dinner parties play great role in Kikuta’s life, he loves to invite guests to come over for a cup of tea and small talk or for whole evening of playing hanafuda. Kikuta isn’t the best host but with the help of supportive partner he will be more confident and better one. Spending time alone with the loved one, he likes to talk about the future and about anything at all, play games, or simply cuddle. If we speak about nights put, Kikuta is a big fan of Japanese theater, especially Western-derived shingeki that gained popularity in 1900s, and he insists going there at least once a month.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

First, he needs to get accustomed to the person, to observe their actions towards others so he can build an approximate image of them in the head. After the probationary period, Kikuta begins to gradually open up: his personality is revealed in short conversations over a cup of tea, in talk by the flickering fire, in single phrases like greetings or goodbyes. He often brings up old memories but needs a slight push to go deeper than nostalgic sighs. Never ever has word outburst so you’ll never hear information not meant for your ears.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Scarily cold-blooded when angry, but you have to push to piss Kikuta off, put some effort into it. He is used to deal with all kinds of people. Therefore, there’s already dozen of prepared lines of conduct that can be put to work when somebody is deliberately trying to mess with him. When angered, Kikuta’s first reaction is to shut the person up with one sentence if not a single word. Usually, it works. Sucks that it doesn’t when it comes to broken plate or spilled hellishly hot tea.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Here is the deal: good memorization doesn’t guarantee correct interpretation. Just like the case about the relationship between Ogata and Yuusaku, Kikuta may confuse something and come to the wrong conclusions, so often he chooses too subtly ask a leading question about thing that interests him. He is quite attentive and catches slightest changes in their behavior, listens carefully to the words they speak, but Kikuta can make a fool of himself once in a while. Like he forgot that they have a peach allergy (and he bought like 2 kilos) or they are scarred of big dogs (and he thought they would want to pet that sharp-toothed Kai Ken).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment would be either proposal or moving in together. Both events mark a new stage in the relationship and keep him on the tiptoes. The day before Kikuta loses his composure: everything falls out of his hands, he cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot sleep because electrifying thoughts don't let him concentrate at all. The limbs seem foreign to him and Kikuta reaches new peak of awkwardness, tripping over his own legs. When the time comes, he is calm again. With the last bit of strength, he puts on a confident face and does his thing. The selected ring fits finger just right as well as his lips land exactly on theirs. After all Kikuta is absolutely sure of his choice and would not want to spend life with someone other than his chosen loved one.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The closer the person gets, the more worried Kikuta becomes. You never know who is friend and who is enemy in the ongoing treasure hunt, who can stab you in the back because of newly devised action plan. To calm the soul, Kikuta may teach them self-defense both barehanded and with the use of firearms. Also, he is always straightforward about people to be careful with and people who can be trusted. For example, he will do his best to hide his loved one’s existence from 1st Lieutenant Tsurumi even if it means Kikuta has to stage their death.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kikuta is your dream man when it comes to dates, he keeps things classy in the best sense of this word. Outside the military profession, Kikuta has the ability to appeal to the more refined side of himself and share his views with other. He is the one to take his loved one to historical museum or secluded beach at sunset, the one to look for a restaurant that follows Japanese cooking traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. The only thing that can make him late is the doubts while choosing the best bouquet. On the anniversaries, there’s no tangible difference since he is used to spoil them with attention pretty much every day. Performs home tasks diligently as well.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Kikuta can be stubborn as donkey, godlessly, unapologetically stubborn. On some occasions he agrees with what another person is saying but still does it his own way, without any explanation, just because he thinks his option is better. It is more common in in the professional field but may pop up in domesticity too.

Speaking of work, Kikuta tends to over-work himself when case includes the thing that really interests him. Digging in paperwork brings him a feel of being needed and sense of stability, both of which are not always present in relationships with people. A person can drastically change his mind and words, stab you in the back, leave… but work? Work could never.

Kikuta can be a bore that wants to stay in one place, talk with the same people, speak out the same ideas. Such company will seem dull to over-active, expressive, and extraverted people.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oooh, you can’t tell it from his face, but Kikuta takes good care of himself. Not a metrosexual, but a type that wants to be presentable at any time. His style is consists of neutral dark colors, smooth lines, as the opposite of his sharp facial features, and even his casual stubble is thought-out accessory. Probably carries his favorite comb in inner pocket to keep his hair smooth.

He has a collection of neckties for all occasions as well as he knows how to tie them in different, often whimsical ways. Kikuta would really like to pass on his knowledge to the son since in his imagination this is excellent example of cool father-son interaction.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Impeccable self-control helps to get though the loss partially. Right after the break Kikuta excuses himself and leaves. He needs fresh air and, maybe, cigarette. Or a drink. Or start his evening routine hours earlier than usual. Crushing awareness comes day later, when he cannot habitually hug his loved one or get an unexpected kiss on a cheek. Heartsore grows harder and goes away for weeks before Kikuta gathers strength to let them go. Restrains himself from relationship for year or two and secretly hopes they will come back.

If they were killed, Kikuta does not pursue the idea of revenge at any cost. He bears the loss steadfastly, self-reflects through long conversations with Ariko, and plunges in overtime work. If Kikuta gets a chance to cross roads with a killer, he will strangle him with them with bare hands, looking straight into the eyes, and watching their life slips away.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Kikuta is a dog person that has never in his life owned a dog. When a stray dog runs up to him on the street, Kikuta always scratches it behind the ear, and asks “who is the best boy”. While in army, he took care of fluffy mongrel that was sneaking around the military base until First Lieutenant Tsurumi ordered to get rid of it. Kikuta still has a dream to adopt few dogs with his loved one so they both can take care of them (and the puppies).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Eccentric personas. The man is already working with Usami, he is already under tremendous pressure, okay? His psyche can tolerate one freak but no more. Eccentric persona does not mean a common person who has one or a couple of distinctive features. We all have specific oddities. No, we are talking about a walking circus, loud, bright, and defiant. Kikuta tries to avoid this type of people at all cost.

Outrageous rudeness makes him tic too. Ill-timed swearing, terrible table manners, inability to behave in society. Small annoying details add up to one big picture that Kikuta physically cannot ignore. He'll definitely try to change that in person.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Kikuta has an evening ritual he performs every day before going to bed. It starts with attentively checking if all the doors are closed, then he puts out the lights everywhere except bedroom and bathroom. While washing his face Kikuta makes plans for tomorrow. He revises them while choosing clean outfit for the next day and putting them next to his bed so in the morning he could instantly jump into his shoes, pull on pants, shirt, and run on important government affairs. Kikuta is mysteriously silent whole time. Attempts to break the silence with small talk result in short dry answers. This routine never changes, even if someone requires an urgent meeting, since repeated actions bring at least some stability to his life.

Calm sleeper until he has to share a bed with another person. Kikuta’s peaceful sleep turns into terrible insomnia, bags under his eyes start to resemble Tsukishima’s, and he feels just awful trying to explain another person that it is not their fault at all. Intensive training, special meditation, counting sheep do not work so he quietly lies on the back and listen’s to another person’s breath.

#golden kamuy #kikuta #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikowrites

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inactiive-shit · 4 years

Text

Thunder

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Masterlist

Warnings: referenced sex but nothing actually included

Pairings: Anxceit

Words: 1,526

Summary: Dee doesn’t like thunder, and his boyfriend does, in fact, know that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dee shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. It was freezing, not suitable weather for people to be walking around outside in at all. Sure, maybe it was only fifty degrees, but that was still far too cold for Dee to be wearing anything less than three layers or go outside his house unless it was an emergency.

This wasn’t an emergency, so he really should not have so much as opened his door for it, but now he’s walking down the street at ten o’clock at night like an unruly cat being forced on a leash for the first time in its life. He really, really hates that this is what he’s spending his day off doing, but he’s closer to Virgil’s apartment than his own by now, so there’s no point in turning back either way.

On the other hand, the outside did look pretty today. There was a bright pink flower in full bloom in the window box of a cafe he passed, and there was a beautiful chocolate poodle strutting down the sidewalk. The trees didn’t have any leaves left, but they still looked sort of ethereal against the stormy, pregnant gray of the sky.

It wasn’t raining yet, and if any god out there had any good sense, it wouldn’t start before Dee got inside. He was not ashamed to admit he was not above fighting a god or two.

Ten minutes later found Dee knocking on Virgil’s door. While he did have a key, if he was forced to walk all the way to Virgil’s house for something, then Virgil could very well walk all the way over to the door to let him in. It was only fair.

The door swung open just as a bolt of thunder cracked outside, causing Dee to jump. Virgil loomed, smirking, in the doorway. He didn’t bother with a greeting, just stepped back to let Dee bolt in and jerk his curtains shut.

“What the hell was such an emergency that I had to come over here in the middle of a goddamn storm!”

“Chill, it’s not the middle. It’s only just starting. Besides, you oughta be outta here before it gets too bad.” Virgil shrugged nonchalantly and crossed to the kitchen.

“Only just-be out of-no! I am absolutely not leaving until the rain quits!” Dee angrily chased Virgil to the kitchen, taking the steaming mug out of his hand before he could so much as bring it to his lips. “You owe me this.”

“Whatever,” Virgil snorted, picking up a second and equally steamy mug to drink from. Dee wanted smack that one out of his hands, just to be petty because Virgil had obviously planned for that to happen. Instead, Dee curled around his cup as best he could and took a sip. Slightly bitter hot chocolate. God, it wasn’t even the flavor that Virgil liked; it was Dee’s favorite.

“Why did you need me over here?” he sighed. Virgil motioned toward his couch.

“Go sit down. I’ll be right back.” Dee left the kitchen with a small shove from Virgil and threw himself down on the couch, his hot chocolate nearly flipping over the side of the mug. It’s not like Virgil would notice another stain on his couch, not after what had happened on it last time Dee was over.

Virgil came back into the room, throwing a screeching black ball onto Dee’s lap and actually causing his drink to spill.

“Thanks,” Dee hissed, juggling the now quiet ball and his mug.

“She wouldn’t quit screaming for the last two hours, but you always make her quiet down.” Virgil shrugged and flopped down beside Dee. “I think she can sense when it’s going to rain.”

“She’s your hell beast, why don’t you ever learn how to love her right?” Dee ran his hand over her head eliciting a deep, rumbling purr. She stretched languidly, claws digging past Dee’s pant legs and just barely scratching his skin before she curled back up and looked up at him with her big green eyes. Entirely too trusting and entirely too evil.

“She’s more your cat than mine, anyway,” Virgil said. He slung an arm up to the back of the couch but kept to his own end. Dee took a sip of his drink while Toothless stared right up at him, totally adoring in a way most people thought was reserved for dogs. It may have been less loud, but it was no less meaningful.

“That is because you don’t treat her right, isn’t that right, baby?” Dee asked, scratching her chin. Toothless tilted her head back to allow it, and Dee felt his lips pulling up against his will. It wasn’t his fault that cat was so damn perfect.

“Sure,” Virgil muttered into his cup, and Dee would have demanded to know what he meant by that except right then a huge bolt of lightning lit up the curtains and barely any time after that the thunder came roaring through. Dee was too dignified to say he screeched, but that’s certainly the sound the cat made before arching her back and hissing at the window.

“You really are the pair,” Virgil said, running his hand over Toothless and then Dee, and getting hit by them both for it. “Fuckin’ halloween cats.”

“Fuck off,” Dee grumbled, petting Toothless to calm them both down and trying to ignore that he had managed to pull his legs onto the couch and ball himself around his little cat. Virgil snorted again and began scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Come here,” he said suddenly. Dee glanced at him, arms extended and beckoning, and shook his head. “Oh, get over here.” Virgil snatched Dee’s empty mug and dropped it toward the carpet. Then he used his unfair strength to pull Dee across the couch so that he was laying on top of Virgil. “Put these on,” Virgil said, shoving headphones at him.

“Why?” Dee said suspiciously.

“So that you can’t hear the thunder, jackass.”

“But what about our little cat?” objected Dee despite really wanting to pull the headphones on and pretend the outside world didn’t exist for a while.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil said, dropping the headphones on the floor. A few seconds later and loud music was blaring out of Virgil’s speakers.

“You’re going to get a noise complaint from the neighbors,” Dee said. “Again.”

“Worthy cause. And it isn’t like I haven’t had to report them for three days straight of only blasting Taylor Swift and Seether.” Dee shuddered at even the thought of that. “I’m pretty sure they prefer this to the other kinds of noise we’ve made before, though.” Dee didn’t have much to say to that.

“What are you doing?” he asked when Virgil wrapped his arms around him.

“Could we cuddle, like, platonically?” Virgil said. He didn’t seem like he was going to let go, or like he was asking a question.

“What’s platonic about cuddling your boyfriend?” Dee demanded.

“Oh, so that’s what we are now?” Dee could hear the deadpan expression on his face.

“Well, I think we’re past fuck buddies.” Virgil snorted at that. They stayed quiet for a while, just enjoying the silence and the music and the little purring cat ball that made its home on top of them. Dee could get used to this. Comfort and cats and - and he didn’t want to jinx it, not yet, but something bigger than like. He really, really could one day get used to this sort of set up. Shitty apartment with a person he more than liked and their cat child. An ideal existence.

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to ask for your own sexless cuddles,” Virgil breathed into the back of Dee’s neck.

“Yeah, right,” Dee said.

“Eh, still better than last time. You told me to cuddle your dick. And while I would still be happy to do that, we both know that that is not the only kind of touching you like.” Dee grumbled wordlessly at Virgil. “Sex is an unhealthy coping mechanism, Dee. You should ask to cuddle with Logan without the sex. He’ll acquiesce, but he’s still awkward as fuck so you won’t feel like he knows what he’s doing and you don’t. Plus, he’ll also try to tell you every fact in the known universe because he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s pretty settling.”

“You say it like you know him or something,” Dee muttered.

“Nah, he’s only been my best friend since sixth grade. I don’t know shite about him.” Virgil pulled Dee a little more against him. “Night, cutie pie.”

“Night, sugar. I like you.”

“Like you more.”

“Like you most,” Dee said, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. Maybe it wasn’t quite the bigger word yet, but it was certainly getting there and one day, Dee would tell Virgil that he l-ed him. But until then, they’d like each other enough for the moon and the stars.

Virgil pressed a kiss against the back of Dee’s neck and Dee fell asleep without having to hear the thunder.

#sanders sides #ts virgil sanders #ts deceit sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #ts virgil #ts deceit #anxceit #romantic anxceit #my writing #fanfic #thunder

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rivergeorger · 3 years

Text

SKG launches its new F5 massage gun with hot compress

Portable, lightweight massage device, with embedded heating function make this the perfect Valentine's Day gift.

NEW YORK, Feb. 2, 2021 /PRNewswire/ -- SKG, an award-winning high-tech company specialized in developing massage devices, today announced the launch of its new massage gun, the F5 portable, lightweight massage device with embedded heating function. The F5 percussion massager, specifically designed for female, is the latest addition to SKG's growing portfolio of massage devices designed for customers of various lifestyles and activity levels. This beautifully designed massage tool helps to target problem areas that are hard to reach and to aid the improvement of muscle inflammation and tension with deep muscle release.

Massage is undoubtedly beneficial for people with varying activity levels due to the technology-driven lifestyle. On top of that, a range of present factors mean that effective muscle relaxation has never been more important: the financial and emotional tolls of the pandemic are severe, and hastily designed home offices lacking ergonomic rigor are the norm. Thus, offering a relaxing at-home massage to one's significant other with the F5 massage gun will undoubtedly be an ideal Valentine's Day gift idea for girlfriend or wife in lockdown.

SKG has a strong track record of building products that enhance relaxation, ease muscle tension and promote recovery. The company prioritizes design and customer experience. It has over 400 of patents on the market and the F5 is their latest iteration of this rich tradition. It's a wonderful, on-the-go tool for recovery post exercise, alleviating muscle tension or simple relaxation.

"We designed the F5 to be beautiful looking and effective, but we really think its lightweight is the major differentiation," said Jack Liu, CEO of SKG. "It's small enough to fit in a purse and to be used whenever and wherever it's needed."

Highlights of the F5 include:

Look: The F5 is beautifully designed with a stylish pistol-shape, satin finish and gradient light.

Portability: While massage guns are great after a sweat session, they shouldn't be a workout to carry. The F5 weighs only 0.66 lbs - less than half the weight of the Theragun Mini - and can be carried anywhere. The handle of the product is designed to give customers an easy to hold grip.

First ever built in heat compress: In addition to the percussion therapy offered via the massage gun the F5 contains a heating mechanism embedded in the bottom of the gun's handle to help loosen muscles. It has three levels of temperature 40, 48 and 53 degrees Celsius, and marks a first time ever that this feature is embedded in a device of this nature.

Noise and performance: Its 5V brushless motor and high-quality bearing allow for an almost silent massage, with three frequency levels of up to 3200 rpm and noise level lower than 45dB.

"While all our products go through rigorous testing and iterations, the F5 is perfectly aligned with both modern life's hectic pace and the unique challenges COVID has brought. We created it to help our customers better cope with the challenges and improve their healthier lifestyles," said Liu.

The F5 massage gun is currently available for purchase on Amazon for $136. To elevate customer experience, SKG not only provides quality in-house customer service and but also supports options after purchase.

For more information, visit www.skg.com or join the conversation on Facebook or Instagram

For media inquiry please contact [email protected],

About SKG

Founded in 2007, SKG is a high-tech R&D company specialized in developing massage devices. SKG combines the best of fashion and technology, and packs everything great into beautifully-designed massage products that enable healthier lifestyle. SKG's products have received recognition from the international design community, including the Red Dot Design Award and IF Design Award. In a modern world of fast living and full of stress, SKG is committed to delivering health and relaxation products that help people live healthier, longer and better lives.

SOURCE SKG

Related Links

https://www.skg.com/

#skg #f5 #massage gun #heating funtion #portable

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beastarslongposts · 4 years

Note

What do you think about Legosi’s character development with himself and Haru?

Hey anon, sorry for the late response! This took me a while to write and is a little rambly. There’s no doubt that Legosi’s feelings for Haru drive a lot of his development, especially early in the series- they’re pretty much his main motivation for a large percentage of his actions.

Starting at their second meeting in the garden, I think their relationship was actually quite good for both of them. Even though it was certainly awkward, that meeting gave them a little bit of a chance to recover from their first meeting. Legosi got to see that Haru was alright and that she did not consider him a monster, and Haru got to see that Legosi wasn’t out to attack her at any opportunity. That doesn’t mean these issues were entirely resolved- Legosi still feels crushing guilt, and Haru remains frightened, but they are made less severe than they likely would’ve been if they’d never seen one another again after Legosi attacked Haru. As they got to know each other better, both their fears about the relationship were diminished somewhat, though they still don’t go away.

It’s been a while since I read it, but if I recall correctly, in the arc where Haru is kidnapped by the Shishigumi, Legosi has some amount of inner monologue where he is glad to be a wolf because he can defend Haru. I wish that the manga had done more with this and allowed him to build his self-worth through his relationship with Haru, instead of just letting him sink back into the same self-hatred soon afterwards.

Even though she hasn’t got as much screen time, I actually think Haru develops more than Legosi does through their relationship. She’s finally got a boyfriend who doesn’t just want sex, and who has some respect for her. In fact, even though she and Legosi both do seem to like the idea of having sex, they never actually go through with it. Nonetheless, their relationship persists, and she doesn’t lose his support. This is clearly good for Haru’s mental health, because she dials back her self-destructive behaviors, no longer taunting school bullies or pursuing her dead end relationship with Louis. She starts trying to make friends at college after having been an outcast at high school.

Legosi, meanwhile, becomes increasingly self-destructive throughout the manga. At first, he is self-effacing but does not intentionally harm or endanger himself, but as time goes on he throws himself into more and more violent situations for the real or imagined benefit of others, and eventually begins directly harming himself by doing things like ripping his teeth out in Yafya’s house. The way he isolates himself not only from Haru but also from his friends is another example of self-harming behavior. I can’t help but see parallels between the damage Legosi does to himself and the photos of the meat-addicted carnivores in Gosha’s office.

This may be a bit of an unpopular opinion, but as of now I think their relationship has become very unhealthy. I do actually like them together and root for their future relationship to be better, and I think they can get there, but as of now there’s too much fear and self-hatred going on there. Legosi’s feelings for Haru sometimes drive him to push her away out of fear he’ll hurt her (either physically or emotionally or both) and although it’s a nice sentiment, it’s ultimately a terrible way for him to approach this relationship long-term even though it wasn’t too bad at first. His self-destructive behaviors also put a strain on the relationship, and his feelings for Haru fuel them- his feelings towards her and herbivores in general are so wrapped up in this inferiority complex he’s got and his fears of harming her or someone else. Haru tries very, very hard to maintain a good relationship in spite of this, but she understandably does not completely trust that he’s being faithful when other women go to his apartment and is upset that he keeps vanishing and not telling her where he went. Legosi, in turn, puts her up on a pedestal where she is idealized as basically a perfect animal (interestingly, Juno sort of does this too when she talks to Haru after the school is segregated) and he often seems to think of her like she’s just as delicate emotionally as she is physically, which is far from the truth.

Haru may not be physically formidable, but she’s got a very strong will, I’d argue stronger than Legosi’s. Her mental health isn’t stellar by any means, but she’s willing to stand up for herself even against overwhelming odds and she doesn’t let mistreatment break her, no matter how much of it she endures. She remains driven to protect her ego and inner strength, while Legosi seems determined to degrade himself at every opportunity. I think they both have self-esteem problems, but have developed opposite coping mechanisms for them. Haru feels the need to be strong and proud in the face of any humiliation or danger, while Legosi is always tearing himself down even when he’s successful, hating himself for being a carnivore, and going to extreme measures to self-flagellate.

The recent chapters with Kyuu coming onto Legosi honestly bothered me a lot due to the weirdly oversexualized way she’s presented, but we do get to see that like Haru, Legosi is committed to remaining faithful and not sleeping around even when he’s attracted to someone. There’s also another, darker parallel here- like Melon’s treatment of Haru, I’d argue that Kyuu’s treatment of Legosi in the bedroom qualifies as sexual assault. She makes this big deal of presenting her breasts and pressuring him to touch them, and then attempts to stomp on his penis against his explicit denial of consent for her to do that. I don’t think that the reason Melon’s actions qualify as assault needs an explanation. Although what Haru went through here was, in my opinion, worse (Legosi did not need to fear for his life when Kyuu assaulted him, but Haru did, and furthermore Melon possesses institutional power over her since he is a professor), I don’t think it should invalidate the seriousness of what Legosi went through, and I’d really like to see the two of them have a heart to heart about it later in the manga, though I feel it’s unlikely we’ll get that considering how closed off Legosi is and how sexualized that whole sequence was (the framing very much screamed “he’s a teen boy and she’s hot, so he should enjoy this,” which like, yikes. bad take there, Paru). Still, I can hope! I think it would be good for both of them to get that and possibly some other traumas off their chests, and also that it would help dispel Legosi’s suspicions that Haru slept with someone else after he caught Melon’s scent on her.

#beastars

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moonshinemornings · 4 years

Text

in my skin

i’ve been thinking about writing this for a long time, and I think I’m at a place where, more so than being comfortable talking about it, putting my thoughts down might help me continue to chip away at my complex.

I want to preface this by saying that my fixation on how my body looks is infuriating to even me. this is for 3 reasons:

1) there is an endless list of more important, broader existential crises to be concerned with instead of how I look (what am I heading towards? am I genuinely happy pursuing a capitalistic, societal definition of success? what is purpose or value in my life???)

2) even on an individual level, so many other aspects of a human make up their person and make them interesting other than how they look and its stupid to be so concerned with this one thing that means so little if anything at all

3) I’m not even that stupidly far away from societal beauty standards anyway wtf like stfu

regardless, I think my thoughts about my body are reflective of how I think about myself relative to the world in general. I’ve also found that the relationship I have with my body is often a symptom about how I am feeling about my self worth at a certain point in time, and also manifests in how I see and treat the people around me. for these reasons I think it can be valuable to unpack these feelings even though they may seem asinine.

the first time I became conscious of my body was in my primary school dance club, when we had to get measured for our costumes. most of my friends were generally skinny and I wasn’t significantly larger than any of them. but the nature of (chinese) dance and the kind of girls that joined it made the general impression that it was better to be lithe and delicate - the moves just looked better that way. the revelation that I wasn’t as thin as I could be was not groundbreaking. it didn’t trigger any immediately toxic thoughts either. it was just a thought I hadn’t had before, that my body wasn’t perfect. It also didn’t affect me much because I had a lot of good stuff going on in school; I had great friends, I did well in school, everything looked good on paper and in real life (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I peaked in primary school). so it wasn’t a huge trigger for anything, just a planting of a seed, I guess? dormant.

as I grew into my teens my body was often too busy serving its intended purposes for me to be concerned with how it looked. I played sports all the time, I woke up early and went to bed early (when possible). I ate well and I was active. It wasn’t difficult to be relatively fit, so I wasn’t really that concerned with how “good” my body looked. like all teens, I did become more concerned with standards of attractiveness and whether or not I conformed to them. I noticed how people’s bodies differed and what people liked. I was aware that I was not on the top of my teenage male acquaintance’s who-would-you-bang list, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. I wasn’t super pleased with my body but I definitely wasn’t unhappy with it. and frankly speaking, I didn’t think I was unattractive lah like ya I might not be hot shit but I was definitely not ugly and I was pretty confident with what I had to offer. this was probably also due to the fact that I did well in school and extra-curriculars, so I found my validation elsewhere.

for a short time between high school and college I had a body goal I wanted to work towards, time on my hands and a motivated support system, so I started working out for an aesthetic. It wasn’t super serious and there were no hard and fast rules, plus it was genuinely fun to work my body. I had been an athlete for several years at this point and I knew I felt good when my body was well-worked and maintained, so it was never difficult to bring myself to work out. the results were a happy bonus. looking back that was probably the time when I had the healthiest relationship with my body. I liked using it and spending time on it for the sake of doing it, I liked how it made me look but never to the extent that it became my main motivation for working on my body. if I had the luxury of unadulterated, stressless time, I could probably do it again. when I started college I was healthy, I looked good and I didn’t even care (we’ll come back to this).

when I started college things started to fall apart. my time in university was, overall, pretty shitty for my mental health. it was great in a lot of other aspects, and I can say with little doubt that it’s helped me grow into a person I not only want to be but am comfortable with. but the process was a shit show to put it lightly. when it comes to my relationship with how I look in particular, I think my years in London have unfortunately left me with a considerable amount of trauma. to make a long story short, I had an ideal of what I wanted my college experience to be like, but half a year into it I found myself severely unsatisfied with every aspect of my life. I wasn’t doing well in school, I felt like I was underperforming socially, I was conscious about the difference in affluence between me and the people around me and I was generally unhappy with the space I took up in my own and other people’s narratives. amidst all this, I put on some weight because (1) I wasn’t working out anywhere as much as I used to (2) the weather, my mental wellbeing and the food readily available made me eat a lot of junk. but instead of acknowledging and focusing on the underlying inferiority complexes that were eating away at me, I sought alternative validation through things I could seemingly control i.e. how I looked. it became the case that it was no longer that I looked a certain way because I worked out, but that I worked out because I wanted to look a certain way. and when I didn’t look a certain way because I was eating shit or going out or because it just plainly was not realistic given my living situation, the lack of validation would further aggravate the inferiority complexes and unhappiness with my person that started this toxicity to begin with. i ended first year treating the people around me like shit, not having anything to show for the hours of studying i put in, and a lot heavier than when I started it. family and friends pointed it out and i was pretty chill about it whenever it happened. i honestly thought i wasn’t that affected by it (again, brushing under the carpet the problems I had with the expectations I set for myself), and that i could lose the weight if i put my mind to it.

then in second year i developed an eating disorder. a couple months into second year I hadn’t made much progress with either my mental or physical health. I often ate till I was physically uncomfortable because I had a general problem with self control (I had none, in fact I didn’t want any, but that’s a story for another time). One night after eating too much, I went to brush my teeth and I was so full that when I gagged lightly from brushing my tongue, I involuntarily threw up the food that was filled up to my gullet. A normal person would’ve registered this as a cue that they should be more conscious about how much they’re eating. I saw it as an opportunity to eat as much as I wanted (for what?) and still be (or at least feel like I am) in control of how much weight I put on. and so I developed bulimia. the bulimia was closely followed by a binge eating disorder - seeing that now there was a mechanism to keep my intake in check, I could let my eating habits, which were in fact reflective of my control problems unravelling, go crazy. I told a couple friends about it because I thought maybe I needed help, but I never really told them how bad it could get. some nights I would go down into the kitchen in the middle of the night twice. thrice. seven times. I would look for anything I could inhale. cashews dipped in peanut butter. seaweed with a cup of yogurt. three packets of chips and a large slice of cake. instant noodles and jam straight out from the jar. it didn’t matter. it all ended up coming back out of my mouth and into the toilet bowl anyway. I would go out for meals with my friends and we would over-order. the paiseh pieces would be left on the plate and if no one wanted them, i would eat them. immediately afterwards I’d go to the restaurant washroom and throw it up. and all this time while I treated both food and my digestive tract like they were toys, my fixation on how I looked grew. spoiler: i did not lose weight from being bulimic. but I very much did lie to myself about it in order to keep at what was actually a coping mechanism for the rest of my life that was falling apart around me. I threw up everything I ate today, do I look different? I didn’t throw lunch up, but I worked out, so it should cancel out, does it show? I ate a salad but because for dinner we had baked rice I threw half of it up, it didn’t make me bloat did it?

towards the end of second year I had a rude awakening that forced me to drag myself out of the shit hole of a mindset I had casted myself into to address the personal issues and the lazy, irresponsible, selfish attitude that had gotten me to this point. luckily, when I dealt with the underlying dissatisfaction I felt towards myself, my problems with food disappeared along with it. right now I don’t have an unhealthy relationship with food. if i were being generous, I’d say it could even be considered pretty healthy. my relationship with my physical body is also pretty good. I eat balanced meals, I sleep well, I work out when I want to and lay in bed and eat junk when I want to. I don’t force myself to get activity in, I don’t force myself to eat more or eat less. in fact, I think I am really inching towards getting the intuitive eating and living thing down. I’ve lost some weight and I definitely don’t hate how I look anymore. so I think I am in a good place for the most part.

my relationship with body image and the validation I feel from how I look however, has been (permanently?) affected. as it stands, I am scared about two things.

first. I like the person I am right now. my life is not super in check, but I’m holding it down pretty well. but in the past two years, when i had nothing under control, the way I looked was the only measure with which i valued my worth. do I only place less emphasis on how I look right now because, like when I was in high school, I have other things going for me? if, come one day, life happens and the going gets tough, will I once again come down on myself because I don’t look perfect, even though I don’t look shit? will how I see my body and how I feel about it be affected every time something else in my life causes anxiety or unhappiness, and if that happens is there a risk of it starting a vicious circle of self-toxicity?

second. like I said, I don’t hate how I look right now. but I also don’t love it. since coming back home, after a shower or when I’m changing or whenever I’m deciding what to wear, I stand in front of the mirror, and I look into it for what I can tell is longer than I would like. I don’t give myself shit for how I look or dislike what I see. but why am I looking anyways? am i checking to see if i like my body any more or less today? why do I care? why should it matter how close or far I am to society and my own definition of an ideal body?

recently I watched a video that said despite the positive intentions of the body positivity movement, a better approach would be radical body acceptance. body positive says that even though I’m fatter or shorter or flatter or whatever-er than the beauty standard, I am still beautiful. radical body acceptance argues that words like fat or thin or flat or short or thin should just be neutral words. there is no good or bad linked to them and there is no good or bad body type. bodies are not “beautiful however they may look”. they are just bodies. I’m trying to strive towards this idea of body perception, to go back to a place of not caring how I look in and of itself or relative to anything else. how I look will just be how I look. to be clear, I don’t think this mindset is the best one that should be universally promoted. I do however think it is the best method for me. this is because I’ve found that ever since developing a fixation on my body and how it looks, sometimes when I see other people the things I take notice of most are their bodies as well. I don’t think I go as far as to assign worth to their person or character because of how their body looks, but I can tell that I’m developing a fixation on other people’s bodies (even if I don’t compare it to mine) and I feel like it subconsciously blocks a clear, genuine perception of them as people. and, of course, it feeds into my obsession about how I look. the more I care, the more I care. so I want to focus on caring less, and eventually not caring.

I would like for a day to come where I can put on clothes and not feel the need to change out of it because I don’t like how I look in something before leaving the house. I would like even more if I didn’t feel the need to look in the mirror before leaving to begin with. I would like to be able to not feel badly if someone points out I gained weight, but I would like even more to not feel happy because someone says I’ve lost weight. I would like to stalk fewer girls on instagram to see what their bodies look like in different photos. I would like to stop being concerned about how my body looks in different photos. I would like for a day to come where, whenever I’m not actively thinking about it, I forget how I look. slowly but surely, I will take steps to make this happen. it took a while to rebuild a healthy relationship with food, and then a healthy relationship with my physical body. surely it will take longer to rebuild the relationship with the image and idea of my body in my mind. I think the moment I forget the image exists will be the day I manage to do so.

#hello

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liam-93-productions · 5 years

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Summer 2017. It will, justly, go down in musical history as the season of Cardi B’s ascendance; the career-making single “Bodak Yellow” was released in June, and, by year’s end, it had propelled the performer into the firmament of hyper-celebrity. 2017 also marked the year of “Despacito,” released in January by Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee (only to then be remixed in April with Justin Bieber). “Despacito” was tied as the longest-running No. 1 placeholder on the Billboard Hot 100, until Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” broke that record in mid-2019.

Within that same time frame, another mega-hit would emerge. It was the solo debut from Liam Payne, whose years as one-fifth (then one-fourth) of One Direction have made him a permanent global force. “Strip That Down” dropped in May, featured Migos member Quavo, and was penned by the singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran. Payne describes the track as “rap singing” with a “pop melody on top.” With a bouncing intro beat overlaid with percussive snaps (and a dusting of piano-key complements), the song was palatable from the first hook and dance-floor ready throughout. In essence: a satisfyingly uncomplicated, all-but-guaranteed banger that would go on to become a quadruple-platinum success (with over 300 million music video views on YouTube and nearly 700 million streams on Spotify, totaling north of 1 billion plays).

Before “Bodak Yellow” pulled its money moves by gaining major traction toward August and onward, “Strip That Down” was what you heard blasting when cars drove by; sun and sound and windows-down fusing together to create that fleeting, specific euphoria that helps determine the song of the summer. “Despacito” contended, no doubt, but it had been around a bit longer, and there was something extra — a listenable breeziness — about “Strip That Down” that made it linger. Payne says he couldn’t release any new material “for nine months, because they just wouldn’t take it off the radio.” According to YouTube commenters, the song has had a minor resurgence in 2019, and Payne admits he is still shocked by how it continues to stream in the millions, monthly. “I’m like, what? It’s so old now.” The song also made a major, unmissable declaration in its chorus: Payne repeatedly voices, “You know I used to be in 1D / Now I’m out, free.”

Fast-forward two years from the song’s release, and Payne is sitting in his London management office, jet-lagged but energized after a quick but busy trip to New York City to promote his newest single, “Stack It Up,”featuring the artist A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie. The song, which also credits Sheeran as a writer, marks Payne’s first major promotional push since “Strip That Down,” having released an EP in 2018 but, as of yet, no complete album. Though fans will not have to wait much longer: it was announced in mid-October that Payne’s first album, titled LP1, will arrive on December 6, 2019.

Eating a salad from Pret a Manger, he is boyishly handsome, even when battling time-zone disorientation. At 26 years old, the Wolverhampton, England-born Payne (...) and no stranger to fame. One Direction, that union of Payne, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, and Harry Styles, formed in 2010 after appearing on the British version of the singing competition show The X Factor. “1D” would earn millions of fans worldwide and hundreds of millions of dollars; the band went on indefinite hiatus in 2016. “I’ve been doing this for 10 years,” Payne says with a smile, when everyone in the room admits to feeling the grind of an exhausting schedule.

“We’ve gone full circle,” Payne says, relaxing into his chair. “‘Stack It Up’ is the same team that made ‘Strip That Down,’ which is why it sounds like the song’s little brother.” The track is similarly playful but is more about cash-lust than anything physical. It’s also slightly less shimmery, with an attenuated keyboard pulse and a semi-scratchiness to Payne’s vocal work. “One of the main problems I had with the song, actually, is that it’s very money-oriented, and I didn’t know if that was the message I wanted to convey,” Payne continues. “I’ve been really lucky to have great success, but there have been times in my life when I am sitting there, looking out at the most beautiful view, and all of these amazing things are happening around me, but there’s no one there and you’ve got no one to share it with. You sort of think, ‘Well, that didn’t fix anything, did it?’ You feel just as low as if you had none of it.” This is the first bite of Payne’s ice-clear transparency. He is think-aloud and cut-to-the-chase candid, which, it could be argued, is a rare trait for the very famous.

“So, with that in mind, we kind of switched up the lyrics so that you have dreams for you and someone else, and sending this message of working hard for what you want to gain,” Payne says. “I was a kid from humble beginnings. My parents didn’t have a lot. They gave us what they could. The reason I love this song is that, if you’re on your way to work and you’re listening, I like to think that it gives you the urge to go above and beyond for your shit.”

Love — sometimes messy, sometimes fanatical, sometimes deeply personal — is part of Payne’s narrative. (...) Likewise, his friendships (both then and now) with the other members of One Direction. Regarding modern love — and the trials and tribulations he’s gone through to understand it, and to achieve self-love, at this point — Payne has much to say. The path to 26 has not been easy: The singer has been open about facing mental health, relationship, and self-esteem issues. There is fact and fan fiction when it comes to One Direction’s split, but Payne himself has said there was strife. He even has a tattoo that reads, “We are the quiet ones,” as he felt he was never allowed to speak up on account of the group’s squeaky clean public-facing image.

“I think everyone has a love-hate thing with what they each individually do. It’s not always nice,” he’ll say of his career. “You get a bit of that feeling of turning against your profession.” Has he ever fallen out of love with music? “It can get tedious, and there is a lot of pressure a lot of the time, which is difficult. Your urge sometimes will not be enough. I’ve found that having people around you that give you unwavering support is, more than anything, what keeps me going. (...) Whereas in the past, there have been times when I didn’t know if I wanted to make any more music. You need those people around you to make sure that you carry on.”

(...)

Payne also admits to mentally working through the backlash and the hysteria that can follow his every move. From the One Direction days, his fandom can tread into extreme territories. “Some people can be really nasty for no reason,” he says. “And also, when you’re worried about going to a restaurant or the park and being overprotective, that actually causes more problems. Because then the paparazzi and the press get more on your shit when you’re hiding away, and then when you do finally show yourself or reveal something, it’s a fucking frenzy. (...)”

Payne would not count himself as one of those people. He has been affected by acute anxiety, agoraphobia, and insecurity. He has canceled shows and, at one point, found himself drinking too heavily as a coping mechanism. “We all have an ideal in our heads of what we want to be,” Payne says of self-love. “From the moment you step in and say, ‘I am who I think I am,’ then nothing can touch you. For a long time, I was playing this character, and in reality, I was a million miles away from it, and everyone could fucking see that shit. You get a different level of confidence once you are, like, ‘I’m good.’ Self-assuredness is a powerful thing.” Payne says committing to a fitness regimen and routine has helped, too. “You become happier and more confident, more quickly.”

(...)

Payne concludes by saying he has only “very recently” felt truly comfortable in his own skin. “I’ve just had a long conversation with a friend about this,” he says. “Don’t let your past define you. It’s not all about what you did or didn’t do. I’m on the map of where I am supposed to be, and knowing that is the key.” Liam Payne, consciously stripped down and continuing to stack it up, takes the last bite of his Pret salad.

#liam payne #mtv vol.ume #mtv news #liam's interviews #lp1 #29.10.2019

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star-anise · 6 years

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Thank you! My actual question is, what is trauma? Particularly trauma that doesn't stem from a single Traumatic Event (TM) -- like, trauma that comes from years of being treated as a "gifted" child, or from developing a disability slowly and quietly rather than in some big accident, or other non-obvious sources. What is trauma, what does it do to someone, why can two people go through the same shit and one comes out traumatised and the other does not? This is a big and vague question I know.

Yeah, “trauma” as a concept is kind of confusing because people think that to be traumatic, something has to be dramatic. And it doesn’t. In point of fact, when my province did its public messaging campaign for trauma-informed care, they completely replaced the word “trauma” with “toxic stress”.

This is gonna get long. For further reading, I’d suggest looking at the Child Trauma Academy’s Trauma and PTSD Library. And it will sound at the beginning like I’m answering some different question than yours, but I promise, I am.

The root of trauma is in the stress response system. When our body interprets something as a threat, it activates the stress response system; our system floods with adrenaline, heart rate goes up, breathing quickens, the brain diverts energy away from centres of higher thought and into immediate physical motion, your liver releases glucose your digestive system slows down, all that stuff. This is called “arousal” but it means stress arousal, not sexual arousal. And then, after the threat has passed, your body works to return you to normal; it releases cortisol to calm you down, your heart goes back to normal, your digestion goes back to normal, you are calmed and soothed.

The first major cause of stress after birth is being hungry. The stomach hurts; we’re in pain; we become stressed and cry. And ideally, someone will come, pick us up, and feed, rock, soothe, and make noises at us until we stop crying and become calm again. If we receive adequate care--that is, if we experience thousands of repetitions of being alarmed and in pain, having the pain go away, and being soothed--our brain records a basic set point of “most of the time I do not need to be alarmed, but when I am alarmed, it probably won’t be for long and I’ll get what I need to calm down again.”

Our brains don’t differentiate well between physical and emotional pain, between something that happens to us and something that happens to others. What makes a baby scream in hunger is the same basic mechanism as what happens when someone experiences a dramatic trauma.

The really big, important step, is when the body goes back to normal. When you are calmed and soothed. The parasympathetic nervous system kicks in; the body releases cortisol; heart rate, breathing, and blood pressure go back to normal; digestion resumes; higher brain functions go back online.

Trauma is what happens when this doesn’t occur--your body tries to soothe itself, but it isn’t enough to fully work. Maybe the stressor is still present so the stress response keeps happening; maybe there aren’t enough resources to become soothed by. Instead the body is alarmed to the point of exhaustion. An aroused stress response is an incredibly taxing state, sucking down resources at an enormous rate while preventing the generation of new ones. So for an adult this could be a big shock that they can’t get over; for a baby, it could be not being fed, not being soothed, or being in constant pain.

Trauma is, basically, a stress response that wakes up easily and then takes a long time to settle down again after. It’s the brain trying to anticipate a dangerous world where something bad happens and you need to be quick to respond to it, and maybe be prepared for a long siege where you need to maintain that response for quite some time.

It works differently for kids because we actually need a lot of help to cope with stress initially. We spend a long time helpless, unable to walk or talk, completely dependent on a caregiver to eat and handle threats. The repetition of being soothed by a caregiver slowly builds up the neural capacity to deal with threats. We use our sense of connection with other people, and our own mastery over the world, to help deal with with stress. This is why hurt children want to be soothed by their caregiver, specifically, and why that caregiver kissing an injury to make it feel better works. Rejection is painful because on a basic level, our brains associate it with not having the resources to handle pain.

So there are a lot of thing that can either deprive a child of adequate resources to handle stress, or create a stressful stimuli too great to be soothed. Which are kind of the same thing, except: there are harmful or inadequate environments that would be guaranteed to over-stress and fail to soothe a vast number of children; and there are children who become so stressed they require a level of soothing much greater than what would be adequate for most other kids. An almost universally neglectful environment might be infants in an old-fashioned orphanage, where babies are fed on a rigid schedule, rarely held, rocked, or soothed, and not responded to when they cry; those suckers are almost guaranteed to fuck up any infant raised within them. (If it survives.) Meanwhile, a child that is difficult to soothe might for some reason have levels of pain it would require painkillers to take away, or might be distressed by things their caregiver doesn’t know to control, like an autistic child who is distressed by the fabric of their blanket or the electric hum of household equipment, which many neurotypical people would never guess could be distressing.

So some of those predispositions might be genetic, but then they get compounded by early life experience. For example, my nephew was allergic to his infant formula; he screamed way more than your average baby and was much harder to soothe, until his parents and their doctor figured out what was going on. After that, he was a much happier baby. If they hadn’t figured out what was going on, and he’d spent maybe a year being constantly distressed with nothing to soothe it, it probably would have moved his stress response system a little closer to “easily activated and hard to soothe”.

You know how when plastic gets hot, it gets all melty and can be put into a bunch of different shapes? And then when it cools down, you can flex it a little but not reshape it entirely? That’s what is meant when neuroscientists say the brain is plastic. When we’re born, our genetics play a little into the shape that our brains take, but our environment has just as much ability to shape our brains. The brain can be optimized for learning English or learning Chinese, to being happy and easily soothed or for responding to constant, unremitting stress. And as we grow older, the plastic cools off. A lot of your stress response system’s basic set point is decided by the age of 3, and much harder to change thereafter. The window for learning any new language easily and flawlessly closes in elementary school; after that, as we age, it gets harder and harder. The adult brain solidifies, so it can flex but is hard to totally reshape.

Part of childhood trauma is also the failure to learn skills during a critical period for learning them. If a child isn’t exposed to any language by the age of 7, they are deeply unlikely to learn how to speak naturally and fluently later in life. And almost everything that differentiates adulthood from childhood is a learned skill, including staying calm, paying attention, solving problems, making friends, and socializing. They’re like muscles; they have to be used for them to grow from their initial promise, their basic genetic gift, to being large, strong, and capable of doing things.

So the younger you are, you see, the more subtle a trauma can be; the stress response system is so much weaker when we’re young. It is shaped not just by huge things, but little ones: How predictably we’re fed when we cry. Whether the adults around us are grieving or fearful. If we’re allowed to feel safe when we leave the house. If the people we encounter are friendly or hostile. Whether we can reliably meet the standards for being considered “good”. How often we encounter rejection. The hope is that, as you age, you can handle bigger and bigger stresses, because stress response is to some degree a skill; I can handle a skinned knee more easily than my 3-year-old nephew can.

But both genetics and that early life set-point can determine how likely we are to be traumatized anew by later events. If your stress system is already prone to being aroused way before other peoples’, and much slower to calm down, you’re much more likely to both be stressed by new events, and to fail to calm down totally after. The stresses pile up. Your stress response system, bless its little heart, thinks that the response to more stress is MORE VIGILANCE, and it takes a lot of very deliberate work, environmental change, and possibly medication to calm it back down again. (A frequent medication for traumatized children is clonidine, which reduces blood pressure, because it helps reset their bodies to “less stressed”)

And then if our bodies leave us in a state of chronic stress, we can often fail to do the things that help us recover from it later. If a child is constantly stressed and anxious, it may make it harder for them to make friends; then when they’re pushed off the swing at recess while the teacher’s back was turned, they’re less likely to have friends who will notice or react with care, concern, or help. If they feel totally embittered by school as a whole, they may be more likely to drop out, meaning they don’t have the educational qualifications that would give them home, food, and medical care. It can be a really vicious downward spiral.

So:

Trauma from big shit as an adult is essentially the same as trauma from little shit when you’re a kid. To a baby, social isolation equals death, and it takes a long time to learn otherwise.

Two people can experience the same thing and have very different reactions because of combination of genetics and life experiences

One of those differences can be perception of threat, so they are more likely to find something distressing than others

Another can be difficulty with distress tolerance and self-soothing, so they are much less able to return from distress to a feeling of wellbeing and calm.

Adverse early experiences can set you up for a negative downward spiral

Lack of positive shaping experiences as a child can leave you without important skills for health and growth, and those skills can be much harder to learn later in life.

#staranise original #trauma #child neglect tw #child abuse tw #batbetbitbotbut

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