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#the words I say and the words I mean

blossom-hwa · 1 month

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the words I say, and the words I mean | h.k

pairing: Huening Kai x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a touch of angst, high school!au, childhood best friends to lovers!au warnings: cursing word count: 2.5k notes: this was originally a story for jay written for chip as a lovely birthday present, I've repurposed it for hyuka because I think he'd fit the lovely lovestruck trope just as well :) hope you enjoy! On a cool golden afternoon on the cusp of winter, Kai falls for you again.

Jay (Enhypen) Ver. | TXT Masterlist

At precisely five fifty-three on a Friday afternoon of a crisp fall-turning-winter day, Kai comes to this conclusion:

He says a lot of shit.

Which, in hindsight, any of his friends could have probably told him. Taehyun for certain—and Beomgyu too just by virtue of him being a paragon of evil or something. But there’s that whole saying about having to realize things about oneself by oneself, or whatever, because you’ll never listen to anyone else, not for real.

Or maybe there isn’t a saying. Maybe someone just told him that and he’s remembering it now.

Doesn’t matter. The point is, Kai walks into the coffee shop where you work at exactly five fifty-two pm on this wonderful Friday afternoon in the crisp intersection between fall and winter where the sun is beginning to set noticeably earlier but not so much so that it fucks up his entire brain, locks eyes with you behind the counter, and says:

“Hey, doofus.”

Which is certainly a substitute—if not a very good one—for what he says in his brain:

You look really beautiful in this lighting, and I kind of want to kiss you.

You roll your eyes and it’s still beautiful, somehow, in the golden afternoon sunlight spilling through the cafe window, and once again Kai is reminded of how hard he’s fallen for every single bit of you—the childhood best friend who lives next door, who’s seen him from his grubby little toddler days to his ratty pre-teen years to his ungodly mess of existence in this last year before college. You’ve seen everything about him, he’s seen everything about you, and if Kai hadn’t realized it before (a year ago, you fell asleep in the passenger seat as he was driving the two of you home from school and he got a slap of cold reality from God Herself when he looked over to see drool trickling down the side of your face and the first thing he thought was cute) he’d certainly realize it now, at five fifty-two pm on a Friday afternoon at the cusp of fall-turning-winter where the sunlight shines so warm on your half-annoyed, half-fond expression that Kai can proudly say is reserved solely for him.

But it’s kind of like a second realization of love, he guesses. Because apparently once wasn’t enough. And it comes in the form of him calling you a doofus when he just really wants to kiss you instead.

He really, really says a lot of shit. More specifically, a lot of shit he doesn’t mean. Mostly because you don’t know how he feels, and he’s too scared to ask if you might feel the same way.

“Good afternoon to you too, doofus,” you snip, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter. He hands you the exact amount for the drink like clockwork because it’s a routine at this point, and then, also in routine, he eyes it exaggeratedly.

“There’s no poison in this, is there?”

There it is. Again. There’s no poison in this, is there?

How about this instead:

Thanks for the drink, I really love you.

You roll your eyes again and he has to curb the smile on his face, in case it betrays the way his heart is pounding in his chest like it does a lot these days at the sight of you. “No, asshole,” you intone. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d make sure there was blood.”

“Aw, so you don’t want to kill me?”

I’d probably let you stab me for free.

“I’m waiting for the right time.” You snicker. “You know, Beomgyu already offered to help me hide the body.”

Kai would respond, and if he did he’d probably say something equally dumb that he didn’t really want to say because his heart keeps screaming for him to tell the truth of his emotions but his mind keeps telling it to shut the fuck up, but the door opens again with a little ring of bells and even though it’s now five fifty-four pm, six minutes from the end of your shift, six minutes are still six minutes and he’ll have to wait those six minutes to walk you home.

Your manager’s a bitch.

So he parks himself at a table, idly scrolling through his phone while sipping at the bitter Americano you gave him (perfect for keeping him somewhat awake for the late night studying that will definitely happen tonight), and also sneaking glances at you when he’s more or less certain you’re busy. He does good today, doesn’t manage to get caught staring even once before you disappear into the back, presumably to strip off your apron and clock out.

Soobin sends him about five cat pictures in the several minutes it takes for you to change. Kai giggles into his drink and hearts them all right before a shadow looms over his seated figure.

“What’re you laughing at?”

In response, he lifts his phone and watches a smile bloom across your face at the cat pictures. “They’re adorable,” you coo.

Kai’s brain reacts before his mouth does, which sucks because it only gives further proof to his realization earlier which he’d kinda hoped was a fluke but was pretty sure it wasn’t.

So are you.

He doesn’t say that, because he doesn’t have the guts. “Yeah, if only I could convince my parents to get one,” he pouts instead, pocketing the phone. “Let’s go home.”

The bells above the door chime merrily as the two of you walk out into the golden sunshine, a subtle warmth that curls even through the sharp bites of wind that nip at his nose and cheeks. When winter comes with its snow and ice, you’ll switch to taking the car home—him driving over to pick you up instead of walking in the snow—so he cherishes the walks for now, a bit of peace and calm in the silence of the neighborhood air.

Well, not exactly peace and calm. Because the two of you are best friends, and so you bicker, and most of that bickering gets pretty loud and your neighbors probably hate you both even if they haven’t said it out loud yet, but to Kai it feels peaceful anyway. Calming. A breath of fresh air, a moment in which he can forget about the stress of school and college applications and just focus on being here with you.

You’re telling him a story about work today, gesticulating wildly as you reenact some woman telling you that her drink wasn’t frothy enough, that she expected two full fucking inches of froth so you’d better shake it again or remake it. Kai laughs, and cackles, and commiserates when you say you’d like to hunt her down and put her six feet under, and all the time his heart feels like it’s blooming, blooming under not the sun itself but the light of your smile as you laugh with him.

Like a sunflower, he thinks. A sunflower, always chasing the sun across the sky.

Holy shit, Yeonjun’s poetry is rubbing off on him. This is terrible.

And then you laugh again, this brilliant sound that’s like a cross between a pig’s snort and wedding bells, and yeah. Okay. Whatever. Maybe Yeonjun’s poetry is fine. Because at least it’s getting things right.

“I never want to work in the food industry again,” you complain, shaking your head. Your scarf seems to be slipping around your neck and Kai’s fingers itch to rearrange it, but he keeps his hands to himself because you’ll notice it, right? You’ll notice the slipping scarf instead and then he won’t have to risk having you feel the tenderness in his fingers that isn’t supposed to be there because he’s only supposed to be your best friend, not someone who has a crush on you. “All the horror stories are so real.”

“Okay, but have you considered...” He pauses dramatically as you look at him, eyebrows raised. “Maybe you’re the problem.”

“Kai Kamal Huening—”

“If everything’s happening to you, I’m just saying, maybe there’s some correlation there—”

You punch him in the arm. Hard.

He wails.

“Oh my God, you fucking baby,” you hiss, all the while also holding your sides that are shaking with laughter as Kai flops to the ground, gripping his arm like you just attempted to cut it off. Good. Because he’s exaggerating, clearly, but only for your sake—so you can laugh. Just a bit. Enough to bring light back to your face that isn’t just from the sun.

“You punched me,” he whines, “and you’re calling me a baby?”

I’d let you punch me any day. And if I deserved it, I’d probably punch myself in the face, too. For you.

He’s going insane, he really fucking is, with the disconnect between the shit he says and the shit he wants to say. But the banter comes so easily, too easily—maybe that’s the reason why he can’t speak the words buried in his heart. Because it’s so much easier, so much simpler, to just pretend. To just bicker his way out of ever revealing anything to you.

“Oh my God, just shut up.” You haul him up and—holy shit, maybe he’s just some Victorian woman in disguise or whatever because he could swoon into your touch. He really could. But he doesn’t, because even to his dumbfuck lovesick heart, that’s overkill. “Come on, punch me. We’ll call it even.”

Kai stares at the arm you proffer to him, covered in the coat you’ve worn for several years at this point. He doesn’t know why, but for a moment, he can’t move. Can’t bring himself to.

Which is dumb as fuck. Because this is a thing you two have always done, jokingly hit each other at one point and when the other complains loud enough to cause a neighborhood ruckus, let them hit back to call it even. It started with your first fight as kids and it just...stayed. Until now. At this moment at sometime past six pm on a Friday evening, now, on a crisp fall-turning-winter day where wind has mostly carried away the coffee smell from your job and Kai is having a crisis about punching your arm.

But he has to do it. So—

He punches you.

Very softly.

Nothing at all like you punched him.

You blink. So does he.

“What the fuck was that, dude?” You narrow your eyes at him playfully, though something uncertain dances in your gaze. Alarm bells start ringing at full force in his brain—fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—“Are you going soft?”

He’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and a gust of wind blows the scarf around your neck and fuck you still haven’t noticed that it’s loose and he wants nothing more than to grab it and fix it so you won’t get too cold but he can’t, now, because he’s already revealed too much by not punching you the way you (and he!) expected and the uncertainty is still there in your expression and FUCK he needs to say something, he needs to say something—

No, it’s because I like you so much it hurts.

“No, it’s because you’re weak and you wouldn’t be able to handle a real punch.”

You screech and Kai screams and then you’re chasing him down the block, one fist held high as you yell something like I’ll give you a real fucking punch to whine about and even as he runs away from you he can hear the laughter in your voice even as you spout bloody murder and promises of revenge behind him, your screams blending with his gasping laughter as he stops, sides heaving with cackles, and you bowl him onto the cold sidewalk that still feels warm, somehow, warm with your giggles as you slap him in the shoulder, threats of violence still dripping from your lips—

“I give up,” he gasps, tears squeezing out of his eyes as he tries to stop laughing. “I give up.”

In other words:

I’ll let you win, always, because your happiness means everything to me.

You collapse to the ground beside him on the cold concrete, and there has never been anything more beautiful, Kai thinks, than the medley of your cackling laugh fading in the air and your expression scrunched in giggling happiness as you sit up to face him. “Good,” you sniff, eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight. “Glad you know your place.”

Kai watches you stand, then extend a hand to help him up. His eyes linger on that hand, the hand he held so much as a kid, the hand he stopped holding in middle school because it’s icky and we aren’t dating, the hand he’s wanted to hold for several years now and even more so since last year when he saw you drooling in the car and thought you were so, so cute. He reaches up, takes it, and in the moment where your palms are connected, his heart aches, aches so much for him to just say—

I love you.

But you let go of his hand, still smiling, so oblivious to the way his heart sags and cracks with the weight of those three words he can’t say as the warmth of your palm leaves his, and he knows—it isn’t meant to be, you loving someone as ratty and messy and damaged as he. You’re best friends. Nothing less, but certainly nothing more.

So he leaves the words in his overflowing heart, locks them away with a cold key made of the sudden absence of your hand’s warmth against his. “Come on,” he says instead, smiling the crooked smile that you always say makes him look like a stupid little rugrat on the streets. But he gets the patented Kai Kamal Huening smile on your face in return, annoyance and exasperation and fondness all mixed into an expression that nearly explodes the box where he keeps those three words, eight letters, carefully locked away, so it can’t be too bad. Not really. Not if it gets him the sunlight of your smile on your face.

Nothing’s so bad, really, not even the weight of all the words he means but can’t say, not when you smile at him like this under the shimmering golden sunlight of a fall-turning-winter evening, not when the two of you are alone in the street glowing warm with laughter, not when it feels like nothing in the world can tear the two of you apart. It’s enough, really. Having you here, and knowing you’ll always be here, even if it means keeping secrets locked carefully away in his heart.

“Come on,” he repeats, and his smile isn’t even that strained as he jerks his head towards the end of the street. “The sun’s setting. Let’s get home.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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pinkravat-art · 14 days

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"breakfast" a tma s5 animation thing

audio on:333

dawg can't even fry me an egg in this eyeconomy

[VD: A Magnus Archives animation done in orange and teal titled "Pusryčiai" (meaning: "breakfast"). Mellow music plays as Martin cracks two eggs into a frying pan. He turns away to throw the shells while the pan sizzles, and when he returns with a spatula, a "boom" sound effect plays as Martin recoils with comic disgust.

The egg yolks have been replaced by human eyeballs. Martin stares at them for a moment. He then pokes at the egg with the spatula, producing a squelching sound, and one of the eyes blinks with another gross wet sound. Martin goes from disgusted to comically sad and disappointed, and he fades away before the setting does. The video ends on the words "darė Skaistė" (meaning: made by Skaistė) and a quick shot of an eyeball. End VD]

ty @princess-of-purple-prose for the description, i edited it a bit too.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma season 5 #pusryčiai means breakfast and the words at the end just say that it's made by me #did this for a video class assignment last minute #video class my ass we talk on zoom and do everything on our own #anyway figured i wasnt gonna do anything if i didnt somehow put tma in it #martin blackwood #tma fanart #animation #animatic #sketch #my posts #art #digital art #tma spoilers

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ps1demodisk · 3 months

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Sorry I'm not low empathy autistic in the "mysterious loner boy who secretly cares about his friends and talks in a monotone voice" way and I'm actually just completely indifferent to the suffering of people I don't know personally and help strangers out of a sense of "this is the right thing to do" and not "I feel so bad for this person" or guilt.

I sit and listen to my friends even though I don't really care about hearing about their problems because I know they'll be upset if I don't, and despite the fact I honestly can't genuinely care about the issue itself, I care about the impact it's having on my friends and that's enough to make me want to help them through it.

Did you know that's actually an expression of empathy all of its own?

It will absolutely happen again I literally am not even sorry

#actually autistic #low empathy #low empathy autistic #seriously #personal rant #serious post #the first part isn't a dig at people with high empathy or regular empathy btw #i know it reads like that #but i don't have alternative wording #you can't just say #support all autistic people #then turn your back on people who's presentation of autism you dislike #you're just as ableist as any other bigot #and I mean that #don't try to debate me on this post I'll actually bite you

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stil-lindigo · 5 months

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link

on twitter, a viral thread started where people around the world shared their translations of “If I must die”, the last work of Dr Refaat Alareer also known as "the voice of Gaza". A beloved poet, teacher and life-long activist for Palestine, he was recently assassinated along with members of his extended family by a targeted Israeli air strike. His loss leaves a hole in the heart of palestinians all over the world.

Below the cut, I’ll be posting the translations of his poem, with links to the original posts. Unfortunately, tumblr limits posts to a maximum of 30 images. I will update when I can.

Arabic (Refaat’s mother tongue)

2. Spanish

3. Irish

4. Dutch

5. Greek

6. German

7. Vietnamese

8. Tagalog

9. Serbian

10. Japanese

and the traditional japanese calligraphy version

11. Nepali

12. Tamil

13. Bosnian

14. Indonesian

15. Romanian

16. Italian

17. Albanian

18. Urdu

19. Turkish

20. Polish

21. Norwegian

22. Galician

23. Swedish

24. Jawi

25. Bengali

26. Russian

#probably one of the most beautiful threads to ever grace twitter's rotten husk of a platform #i really earnestly almost cried #when people say the world stands with palestine #they mean they speak with palestine as well #israel murders palestinian poets to silence their voice. their culture. their lifeblood #in response the world amplifies his voice tenfold #but what a loss #what an unforgivable loss #i hope it is some consolation to those who loved refaat that his words are now immortalised in languages all over the world #that he has united so many people in their pursuit of palestinian freedom #please please please feel free to add your own translations onto the post in reblogs #i just havent seen anything about this thread on tumblr yet #im just the messenger #palestine will be free #the words of refaat alareer will be immortalised #and his students will carry on his legacy #ah but it is almost 5am and i havent slept #when i wake up i will add more #free palestine #israel #refaat alareer #rest in peace

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thedreadvampy · 1 year

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Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.

"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."

translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"

It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!

very this

#red said #it's just. I'm obsessed.#everyone on Twitter is saying 'never happened' and i think they're wrong #this absolutely did happen and she's been obsessing over how vindicated it made her feel enough to WRITE AN ARTICLE ABOUT IT #because she MISHEARD SOMEONE IN A CASUAL CONVERSATION #i lay out my reasoning thusly: if you were INVENTING a scary trans woman in bathroom story out of nothing. why would it be this?#why would you go with 'we had a banal conversation until she said a sentence that makes no sense and that no human has ever uttered #but which does coincidentally sounds almost exactly like a mishearing of a very NORMAL thing to say in the circumstances #then she left and nothing else occurred'#if you were going to INVENT a story you would probably make it MAKE SENSE or SOUND THREATENING #i truly believe this is a very authentically told account of what she thinks happened #because who would. by means other than mishearing. think 'I'm going to wipe my hands on my penis' makes any sense at all.#a) 'I'm going to dry my hands on my genitals' says the presumably fully clothed woman #b) who then proceeds to leave without doing anything threatening #c) WHO SAYS PENIS THREATENINGLY? sorry it's writing out 'penis' repeatedly that made this jump out to me but like. who says that?#you might hear someone talk casually about their dick or cock but i stg it's only doctors and TERFs who casually use the word penis much #it's so. clinically descriptive. it's a weird use of language. but it IS. something you could plausibly mishear from 'pants' or 'trousers'

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badxwolf · 10 months

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"[Russell T Davies] made Rose an equal, not a sidekick. It is she who, on several occasions, saves the Doctor, rather than the other way round. As any parent with a daughter, I now look at Esme and think 'you could be the Doctor'. In 2005, as recently as that, such a thought would have been a pipe dream.

[Rose is] a woman with an independent mind, willing to confront received wisdom. Rose arrives on screen fully formed, one of the strongest female characters of any show, any year, painting a solid line directly to Jodie Whittaker.

If you think about it, the relaunch in 2005 was actually the first chance to create the first female Doctor. Why not do it then? Perhaps we should be looking back on Billie Piper not as Rose, but as the Doctor."

- Christopher Eccleston in his memoir I Love The Bones Of You

#i cannot find words to articulate how profoundly this affected me #i think all i can say is THIS is why i love rose. this is why she means so much to me.#he gets it. he gets her.#and he gets thirteen too #also the fact that he's said jodie is his favourite doctor <3 #i love him aah #christopher eccleston #ninth doctor #rose tyler #billie piper #jodie whittaker #thirteenth doctor #doctor who

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coffeecatcraze · 2 months

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I would just like to say how hard it hits me in the chest to see Charlie masking every time she's onscreen the day before the fight (including what we see on Vox's spy screens of course), except when no one is with her but Vaggie. Even during her emotional speech she tries so damn hard to keep that confidence up and smile on. But we do see her stop masking twice, when the only person watching her is Vaggie.

First:

No one's really paying attention to her, and she's not smiling; she's worried. When Vaggie approaches her, she doesn't put on a happy face. She talks about her mom with the same smile as in the first episode (during a very emotionally vulnerable moment with Vaggie, might I add). It's not happy or confident. It's nostalgic, wistful, and sad, because her mom's absence is something very personal and painful for her. When Vaggie asks if they're ready, Charlie doesn't instantly start to smile or answer with confidence even though she usually would (even within that short beat of time), because her mask is off. She's not confident or optimistic. She's scared. She's not ready.

Then Pentious comes out and she's all smiles again! The mask comes back on when someone other than Vaggie is there.

Second:

Of course, one of our favorite scenes. Charlie's alone when she breaks down, but when Vaggie shows up, she keeps the mask off. She admits how scared she is. When she does smile, it's not the big smile she's been throwing on throughout the day, and it's not strained either. It's soft, gentle, and real. She's not masking. Vaggie is genuinely making her feel better when she's finally letting herself fall apart, just by being there and reminding her that no matter what happens, she's already accomplished so much, and she's so loved.

Charlie is under a lot of stress and pressure. She's scared. She's not as optimistic as she's making herself out to be. She's giving everything she's got out there being a strong, confident, inspirational leader and friend in front of everyone, and it's only with Vaggie that she lets it go. She doesn't have to try to be strong. She doesn't pretend. She lets down her guard, because for her, Vaggie is that one infinitely special person who gets to see every part of her; the one person she can always be her honest self with.

There were plenty of times in other episodes when Charlie didn't mask her negative emotions around people, but that was when she didn't have anyone looking to her as a leader. She's running on adrenaline and the weight of people's expectations as Extermination Day gets closer, and she can't let the mask she's put on slip in public. She has to seem like she's totally ready for what's coming. But Vaggie is different.

The amount of trust and love Charlie has for her is staggering. She's under an insane amount of stress and pressure, and having Vaggie by her side is probably the only thing keeping her from completely falling to pieces. Seeing a relationship so full of deep trust and love is absolutely beautiful. <3

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #no i am not saying her usual attitude is always a mask #just that when you're known to be a certain kind of person it becomes an automatic mask sometimes #and from these two moments and the situation as a whole it looks like that's what was happening here #she's probably spent the last month trying increasingly hard to keep up a face of confidence and fearlessness #except with the one person who's by her side and not following her #they are PARTNERS and that word means so much

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beawake · 2 years

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I swear the only reason the Try Guys and Ned Fulmer are still fucking trending with barely any new news coming out is because Ned fucking said consensual workplace relationship instead of cheating or had an affair with my producer.

#liz's stuff #not that it isn't funny #i mean the wording says a lot #poor ariel tho #he can't even admit he cheated #ned fulmer #try guys #the try guys

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deargravity · 23 days

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something small but consequential about alien stage that drives me crazy is the juxtaposition of mizisua and ivantill. mizisua, where love translates well and ivantill, where love doesn’t. where love is a two-way road vs where love is a crash test car. either way, it ends in tragedy. maybe the only consistent thing about the human heart is that it eventually breaks, maybe the closest they can get to experiencing their own humanity light-years away is through all the loving and losing they do

#you can take the earth away from humans but u cant uhhh … Uh… Idk u get it #what i mean to say is… whether it’s next door or light years away the fundamental nature of the human heart will not change #alien stage #alnst #ivantill #mizisua #this is poorly worded but u get it #i hope u get it #idk #i can’t stop thinking about it

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cacaocheri · 7 months

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this might be spoilers for my fic but this is how i imagine a future chapter of daydreamers would go. tbh though this comic is mostly just me exploring the dca's role in childcare and how they could absolutely get away with saying "we" a lot without any suspicion of them sharing an entity

#idk when i worked with kids a lot i would say 'we' as well #like 'we dont run in the halls' or 'we dont say mean words to each other'#stuff like that yknow #anyway yeaaahh #im having daydreamers thoughts you guys can you tell #my art #security breach #fnaf security breach #moon fnaf #fnaf moon #moondrop #fnaf moondrop #charlie daydreamers

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