there’s something about even’s little nod in this scene
because even knows. he’s not oblivious, he notices the way isak reacts to his presence, to him. he’s been noticing him for weeks, weeks before they first met. he saw the way isak was when he came over to his place the previous week, he saw the look in his eyes, the light in his eyes, he saw the way he smiled and laughed, he noticed the changes in his voice. he probably memorized his facial expressions and the things he said last friday. kept replaying them in his mind every single day, in class, before going to bed, when he was with other people
earlier in that episode, when he came to give isak his snapback, in a matter of seconds, he understood that isak hadn’t told his friends he had gone to his place, he understood that he didn’t want them to know. because he sees and understands. he remembered the cardamom on the cheese toasties five weeks later, how they were sitting on the floor of his room as they ate them, he remembered isak saying he had a drop of water in his throat, he remembered isak talking about parallel universes. because he pays such close attention to isak and the way he looks and moves and speaks and all the things he says
do you think that even, who saw this boy on the first day of school, who was probably looking forward to seeing him even when it was just at school, in public, in rooms and hallways with other students, would not notice how isak was acting? notice the way he’s been looking at him the moment he showed up at his place for the pregame? the way he starred at him when he kissed sonja and looked at him straight in the eyes? how tensed he was as he told him about sonja and how they’d been together for years? the intonation of his voice as he said his okay’s (been together since we were 15. okay. can’t dump her. okay). do you think that even who’s been desperately trying to spend time alone with this boy he was falling for would not notice the smile that spread all over isak’s face when he realized that even was messing with him, the smile he was trying to stop it, in vain? do you think he would not sense his attraction to him? the vulnerability?
of course even notices. and since he came to see isak in his kitchen, he’s only been kidding, pretending not to be serious. but with that little nod, he grows more serious. with that little nod, it’s like he’s saying i see you, i see it, i’ve seen you for a while. it’s reassuring. it’s okay. it’s understanding. i know, isak. i know. me too
i say “i’m seeing a therapist” and he takes a step backwards. why he wants to know. what happened. what made me like this, basically. what was the final step that pushed me safely into the side of scary people like them.
there’s a lot i think about. like how my illnesses effect me outside of the actual symptoms. like beyond the weight there’s a second river to drown in.
i mean we don’t talk about having to stare at employment papers where they ask you to self-identify your problems. that little bead of sweat that forms when you worry - what if i don’t tell them and i need help? what if i tell them and they think i’m a risk factor? what if they won’t give me the job?
we don’t talk about the way some people act when they find out. the ones who are rude about it are one thing. but then there’s those people you thought were your friends who act like you just told them you’re infectious. who become weird and distant and suspicious like a switch flipped. like if they get to close to you, you’ll give it to them.
we learn to be okay with things we overhear on the bus but we never get used to it coming out of the mouth of the people we love. we carry this secret with us like a rotted fruit, clutching it to our bodies. we’re ashamed of our scars in front of our boss. we don’t talk about our panic attacks during lunch breaks. when the cop pulls you over “i’m disassociating” isn’t an excuse we can open the page on. when you watch people make these ranting posts about how real friends always text back, how if someone loves you, they’ll find the time to spend. success stories make other people cry with inspiration while some part of your brain is saying you can’t do that, you’re not like them. things are uglier at the bottom. you can’t explain why you can’t just make friends. you can’t write because you’re depressed but when you’re depressed you write best. you can’t eat today and no don’t ask why please. nevermind taking the train. never mind trying to be happy. never mind reading books and watching movies and wondering where exactly are people like you in hero stories. i watch a video where a man tells me that being depressed is just a mindset. when i wear all black someone remarks i look particularly emo today. it’s 2017 does anyone say emo anymore, i ask her, and she laughs, “you just look like one of those fake-depressed girls.” okay.
i don’t tell him my therapist is actually why things don’t happen anymore. why i’m getting a handle on it. my tongue feels swollen. i feel embarrassed talking about it. in the highest twist of irony, i think of how many people know my problems anonymously on the internet. i almost spill out all my troubles onto him. instead i tell him it’s just a precaution. that i think everyone should really see a therapist, they’re brain mechanics and we all need a tune-up now and then. he relaxes.
The gang tends to draw stares when out among the general public, and when someone stares, Demencia hisses at them. This mortifies Flug and angers Black Hat (it looks bad for business) but she does it anyway, and it has its desired effect: gawkers don’t hang around long
As much as they smack each other around, if any outsider messes with one
of them all hell breaks loose
Their house is full of multi-dimensional portals, a la Howl’s Moving Castle. As they were put in place by Black Hat, it’s imperative to know exactly which doors lead where before you try to open one
BH and Flug are both fond of coffee but Flug can only drink decaf, because too much caffeine makes him even more jittery than usual. His coffee is kept separate from Black Hat’s, but Demencia switched the containers once as a joke. This was not a good day for anyone involved
Demencia adores Flug, even though she loves to give him hell. She’s like the pestering little sister whose sole purpose in life is to aggravate their older sibling, but she looks up to him and loves him to death. She’s been known to bite strangers who get too close to Flug or question him on his appearance
Demencia and 5.0.5 absolutely love, love, LOVE books and stories. It’s one of the few things that Dementia will actually settle down for and 5.0.5 won’t instantly fall asleep to. Demencia can read, but prefers to be read to, and often pesters Flug to do it. They spend many evenings like this, and Black Hat always just happens to be in the room somewhere, lurking in a corner pretending to be occupied with something but secretly listening in
Once or twice, the others glance over and catch BH listening with genuine interest. Black Hat proceeds to conjure some eldritch horror out of whatever book they’re all reading
He later tries to market this as an “evil illustration service” for viliainous authors
i read a craigslist personal ad that says
“maybe one day we will meet where time has no meaning.”
it’s brutal, really.
all of the lights that a couple of numbers
and some hands
have managed to burn
all of the daylight savings that
fucked up our sleeping schedules
and made bitter our coffee.
maybe someday you & i should take down the calendars and start buying supermarket sheet cakes whenever we want.
forget the latin translations for “day” and “night.”
love like an alarm clock,
loud and unapologetic.
Pairing: Reader x Hansol/Vernon Genre: ANGST OH BOY is there angst (and some fluff I guess) Request: “could i request a Vernon scenario where it’s angsty at first because vernon and the reader get into a big fight and break up and then they see each other at a party later on and its really awkward. but then they get trapped in a room together and eventually make up.” Word count: 3,619 A/N: Requested by anon. I’m sorry this took me like. A month. I’m sorry if I didn’t stay entirely true to form as per the request, but I hope you like it (sorry it’s a mess)!
“You miss him, don’t you?”
You loved Jun, but you hated the fact that he was always right. You couldn’t hide anything from him. He would pick up on literally everything: the slightest falter in your smile, the quietest crack in your voice, or the smallest tremor in your hand. Recently, it had been all three.
"Yeah,” you admitted. It wasn’t worth lying to Jun. He always knew when you were lying. “Y/N…” “I know, I know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I just…” “In fairness, it’s only been two weeks.” “I’d hoped I would’ve at least gotten a bit better by now.” Jun sighed. “Have you spoken to him at all?” “Nope.” “Would you?” “Nope.”
You still couldn’t quite believe that you and Hansol had broken up. For the longest time, you’d thought the two of you were unshakable. You’d been together for a year and a half - longer than any relationship the two of you had been in prior - and you’d loved him with all your heart. And he’d loved you, too. The breakup seemed to just be a product of circumstance. That, more than anything, was the worst part about it. It just seemed to be something that neither of you could do anything about. Worst of all, it felt like he hadn’t wanted to do anything. He’d just let you go.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You felt Jun’s arm over your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. You felt bad for him; he’d put up with your heartbroken bullshit for two whole weeks. He’d listened diligently, and he’d been very kind to you, but you knew that it was beginning to rub him the wrong way; he was a pragmatist. “It’s just…” You took a deep breath, genuinely impressed by how stable it was. “I just feel like he didn’t want to try. Like… he didn’t care about me or the relationship enough to try and work things out.” “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”