#i actually listen to these while studying

[misctf]

Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensible to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[eff-plays]

Long Taash storyline rant, by an enby

Listen. At first I was honestly not that offended/upset with the Taash enby stuff. And having an enby Rook who was able to help them out was honestly pretty fun. It was definitely the first time any video game engaged directly with nonbinary identity like this, and while it's not really 1-1 with my own experiences, I thought that it was. Fine? Ya know? I thought it was a very novel experience to finally have a fellow enby NPC that you could talk to about being nonbinary. It's never happened in any other game I've played.

But then it just ... kept going. And on one hand I get it, because you don't just decide your nonbinary and that's it -- it's a process. But the way it's handled is absolutely insane to me. First of all, how old is Taash supposed to be? They give off whiny teen vibes, and it's very off-putting. This is the character that's meant to represent me? Why are they written like a child?

Second, why are we using modern terms? The word "nonbinary" IRL exists because it is a rejection of the Western gender binary. It's a specific term that isn't universal, and since no previous game bothers to engage with the gender roles of Thedas to begin with, it's absolutely insane to hear these hyperspecific terms used in this made-up fantasy world. Especially since the Qun already has words and concepts for their gender roles -- why didn't BioWare just base this story on those? Why not try to contextualize this in-universe? There are other nonbinary characters in the game, but they just popped up in this previously unequal and often sexist world and are just vibing. With no explanation. Who's out there doing thedosian gender studies? How are they spreading these revolutionary concepts so far and so quickly that the terminology becomes universal?

Side note on that, why does Taash have a little counselling session with the other two trans people that sounds like something they'd do in sex ed class (in Sweden, anyway)? Why is this happening during a magical apocalypse? Hello? Look at this fucking codex entry and try not to cringe

Like. Who is this for? This doesn't make me feel good as a nonbinary person. This makes me feel like a freak, out-of-place, and like I'm a fucking baby that needs my existence validated by some fucking bitchass video game codex entry preaching at me about how totally valid I am. This doesn't feel like respect, or inclusion -- it feels patronizing. It feels corporate, like we're ticking off boxes. "Look everyone, we're using the appropriate terminology! We're so inclusive!" And you know what? The fucking anti-woke chuds are gonna look at this and think THIS is me. That all I care about is having my terminology and identity carelessly stuffed into places just so I can feel good about who I am.

And before tumblrinas get upset, I'm not saying I don't want rep, or that I'm one of the "good ones" who wants video games to be free of "ideology." I am one of the bad ones. Taash should be nonbinary and I should be able to play a nonbinary Rook and I want both of those things to be explicit and accepted in-game! But I want those in a way that respects me and my intelligence, and the world BioWare has created that I've come to love. Who is preventing BioWare from actually, ya know, unwrapping the sexism and misogyny that they started in Origins? Who's stopping them from actually tackling the gender politics of Thedas? Why don't we ACTUALLY sit down and figure out how a society like the Qun might approach somebody not willing or able to conform to their particular rules? Especially the Qun. Like, they had so much potential for something actually interesting here, and instead it's "mom it's not a phase, respect meeeeee!"

Third, and this is my favorite fucking part, they tie Taash's gender to their background, where the Qun represents conformity and Rivain represents freedom. (Which is an entire can of worms in itself that I won't go into here.) I don't actually mind this? I have some extra special boy insight on this part of the quest, because I am also an immigrant who was born in one country and grew up in another. Being nonbinary and being an immigrant, while separate, have both had a similar effect in my life. It's left me feeling like I don't belong anywhere at times, like I'm something different and strange, and at times like I'm a kaleidoscope of expression and freedom, with unique experiences not everyone has. There is an absolutely valid intersection there that could have been explored and would've been very impactful if done right.

But instead we get this

Hello? Oh my god HELLO?

Why is there a BINARY CHOICE in a story where a character embraces being NONBINARY? Why are we now equating Taash's background and cultural belonging to the demands of their mother? You can reject what your parent is forcing you into without completely rejecting your culture! Am I fucking taking crazy pills right now?

The idea that Taash, upon discovering they're nonbinary, has to now say goodbye to being a Qunari? When they weren't even ever shown to care about the Qun in the first place? WHY IS THIS A CHOICE THAT HAS TO BE MADE? WHY ARE THEY ASKING ME WHETHER THEY SHOULD CONTINUE FOLLOWING THIS CREED THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT? (Side note: why did their mother escape from the Qun only to enforce it herself?)

Like? You can't spend a whole fucking subplot deciding you're neither a man nor a woman, but then equate being nonbinary to being Rivaini, and thinking you need to pick that or being Qunari. I'm sorry? I'm sorry? I'm sorry?

Why is there no third choice? Why is there no "Hey you can be both" or "Hey just pick whatever from either culture you want to keep and throw away what you don't?"

I am going insane. The game sits you down and condescends at you for ages about basic contemporary gender theory, but then tries to inexplicably tie that to Taash's cultural background, but then doesn't bother examining how those cultures treat gender at all, and then finally forces us into a binary choice ... for a character whose entire fucking personality is "nonbinary."

The Qun is a misogynistic society. Rivain is a matriarchal society. (This was true for the previous games, at least.) The way these cultures approach gender is vastly different. But instead of examining how such a person would struggle with their background and how that would tie into their gender identity, it's just "Rivain good" and "Qun bad." Pick one or the other. Conform or rebel. Pick one or the other.

And that's the storyline of the nonbinary character.

The reactionary chuds will hate this and blame nonbinary people for how much this fucking sucks. While I can't claim or enjoy it because it's corporate nonsense and fucking sucks. All this does is show people that when games include enby rep, it's hack shit like this, so why include it if it's gonna suck ass, right? This bad writing will just make your game worse, so don't bother!

So yeah. Cool.

Thanks, BioWare. I hope whatever you were trying to prove was worth it.

[animarune]

Since I started listening (a week ago) I have been describing it as "BBC Sherlock except it's actually Good" or "if BBC Sherlock was good"

Like Sherlock's immediately upfront about his ADHD and autism and everything else and it's not treated as a joke or an excuse to be an asshole, it's just to explain why he's Like This, and they bring it up in a lot of good ways like needing sunglasses and ear defenders to go for a walk.

I really loved his whole "I spent many years studying [several different speech sciences] in order to mask effectively, how hard can it be to learn swingers' code?" speech because it was funny and he's not as good at masking as he thinks he is which is relatable xD

Also yeah John and Mariana aren't there to play dumb, they have their parts to play, and John has his own flaws to overcome, and it's so interesting when he and Sherlock are really gelling together (with their "rapport") and where they bounce off each other. I'm thinking of Sherlock effectively reading his mind in The Cardboard Box up until he opens said box and immediately can think of nothing else but the thrill of the game, and thus misses how John's upset about not telling him it's his birthday and misses the fact that he's triggered John with the contents of the box. I'm thinking of John constantly reminding himself, Sherlock and the listeners that "he was an army doctor" and trying to take charge in situations he has no business doing so.

I'm thinking about the two of them effusively complimenting each other for several minutes before the guy John tackled tells them to shut up already.

I'm thinking about how full of heart this Sherlock is even while struggling with empathy.

Genuinely, this show is so good. Like I follow a few blogs who share quotes from the books about how soft they are or how funny they can be and I feel like this podcast adapts their relationship amazingly compared to the friggin BBC show.

I told my dad my whole "if it were actually good" bit and he was like, "but you really liked that show?" I was like "yeah these videos I watched [hbomberguy's and Sarah Z's] forced me to realize how bad the writing was all along" and we talked about Moffat struggling with concise stories when given too much time to fill. (I explained there was a shorter pilot episode that was actually good.) I forgot to mention the reason I liked the show so much had more to do with the fandom surrounding it at the time and all the fan works I consumed lol

Anyway, yeah, tl;dr: Sherlock & Co. is great and anyone interested in Sherlock Holmes and/or true crime podcasts ought to give it a listen!!

Sh&co vs. bbc sherlock

Something I feel that really separates Sh&co from bbc Sherlock is that Sherlock is not some super computer mind thats a million steps ahead of everyone.

Yes he is incredibly smart, but he's not the only one who is solving the problems. Like there are several episodes where he couldn't have solved the crimes without John and Mariana.

I just really love how they all work together- Like Mariana and John don't just exists to look stupid compared to Sherlock.

[ouiouimochi]

We should kiss

pairing/s: jiro kirisaki x reader

genre/s: romance, comedy(?), plot of convenience

wc: 800 ish words

warning/s: wonky phone format, no beta we die like zenji sigh, plot holes but you pretend you don't see it, medical shit I say here may or may not be true— but pls do not immediately believe it, PC never catches a break, itty bitty minor spoilers up until episode 9, characters may be ooc

note/s: ngl if yuri sees this, he'd call me a quack and make a point that studying in the med field as I am now just proves how much of a quack I am— 🦆

sigh I should be reviewing but then inspiration struck me

⁠ *✧⁠˖✦ـــــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـــــــــــــــــــــ✦⁠˖✧*

You stood there absolutely confused as Yuri continued yapping about… something. What the actual fuck was he actually saying? The teal-haired male kept droning on while using fancy scientific and medical jargons.

You just nodded every now and then to show you were listening, but you were just doing it out of courtesy if you were being honest. You understood a few but couldn't piece together what he was trying to say.

All you could make of his blabbering was “saliva”, “immunity”, and “Jiro”.

Speaking of which, the other male cut in— you were unsure if it was for your sake or it was just his nature to do so, but you were grateful nonetheless. Until you visibly grew even more perplexed at the stoic male’s words.

“He means to say that we should kiss.” Jiro’s garnet eyes gauged your expression as a barely noticeable smirk crept itself up on his lips. Whether he meant to rouse certain reactions from you or not, you were sure he was snickering behind that deadpanned countenance.

Yuri makes a very disgruntled noise, “That's oversimplifying things, but as concise as always— nevermind that, I've hypothesized this would greatly improve Jiro's overall health.”

You weighed your options, however the Captain of Mortkranken was not yet done as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Consider the debt you owe us paid when you participate.” His use of ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ solidified the case that you didn't have a choice in the matter at all.

It didn't help that a phantom presence made itself known to you.

“My dear, a loveliest lady such as yourself shouldn't be forced like this even if he's my little brother…” Zenji’s voice dripped with concern, but it made the decision to decline even harder since you kind of felt bad.

You sighed and shook your head, briefly making eye contact with the ghost to reassure him before meeting the eyes of the Mortkranken ghouls.

“Fine.”

Jiro calmly approached you and immediately rested a hand on your lower back. Before you know it, you were eye level with his tired and attractive face. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, now?—” You last heard a dramatic gasp from Zenji, getting cut off as the tall, usually apathetic purple-haired man just casually locked his lips with yours.

Time slowed as his tongue slipped in to take advantage of your shock— you were just too stunned to kiss back even if you wanted to. You were just screaming on the inside at what was happening.

“Jiro! Jiro!! What on earth are you doing?!?!” Yuri's flustered response echoed loudly in the room, basically screeching at the taller ghoul.

“Is it not optimal to immediately test out a hypothesis when created?” Jiro voiced out logically after pulling away from the kiss, still holding you closely as his eyes looked at his captain’s before locking with yours. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

Your mind was swirling, your whole face basically heating up in embarrassment. You did not expect him to do that at all— in front of an audience well he didn't know zenji was there no less.

Jiro had the gall to laugh, allowing his normally unbothered personality to crack as he enjoys making fun of you as if it became his favorite pastime now. He licked his lips.

“Y-you heathen! Get a room and don't include me in the hypothesis testing!!!” The teal-haired ghoul expressed his distaste of the blatant display of intimacy right in front of his face.

Yuri turns away to pinch the bridge of his nose as he clicks his pen, pointing it at you still in Jiro’s arms— you didn't know why he was still holding you. Any longer, you feared you might grow comfortable.

“You, out. We have reports to record.”

And such you find yourself absentmindedly walking back to your dorm. Your fingers ghosting your lips, remembering the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft. The way he held you wasn't uncomfortable either. And his tongue—

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts.

‘It’s just another experiment.’

Too bad you actually enjoyed it.

⁠*✧⁠˖✦ـــــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـــــــــــــــــــــ✦⁠˖✧⁠*

sigh

taglist: @ryescapades (hi wifey even if u dunno this fandom *cri*), @minasfwoopyponytail , @akiakabane18 , @rottenzombrainz , + anyone else who wants to be added

[r3starttt]

ROOMMATES

PAIRING: ellie x abby

CW: fluff. modern au. hc's.

SUMMARY: Abby and Ellie and the begging of their roommate era <3

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | PERM: @twopeoplee @Kaimythically @greysontheidiot @levilvrr @sapphic-ovaries @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1

Ellie who was awkwardly checking her phone when she first met Abby. Her fingers nervously tapping random stuff on her notes app, on the calculator, sending desperate messages to anyone just to avoid small talk.

there's this blonde girl I'm probably gonna be roommate with she's massive lol

Abby who would glance at Ellie here and there just to make sure the girl was keeping up with the whole tour and to get any sign that could let her know if she was actually interested in the whole roommate thing.

"The girl that came to see the place is a nerd, she's being all awkward and not talking at all. She's also wearing those black converse everyone likes for no reason."

"abs u listen to classical music to study stfu"

Abby who had to speak to Ellie first and directly ask if she was interested or not. And Ellie who struggled to talk but eventually managed to make the deal with Abby.

"Ellie, right?" the freckled cheeks hadn't been that red in a while. Not that she got scared or anything, she just felt extremely panicked thinking the blonde girl in front of her was about to start small talk- plus, she caught her off guard. "So, what do you think?" Abby crossed her arms, an habit- just there she realized how annoyed she looked. She wasn't, of course, but how could the auburn tell?

Abby, who Inmediatelly put the rules. No eating in the couch unless you have visits, and if so, you clean. No noise after 10 pm and no visits without warning nor after 10 pm either. You wash your dishes, you cook your food. bla bla. bla

"Hey so... uhm" Ellie's hands felt sweaty, her fingers fidgeted with each other as she let herself rest comfortably against the doorframe of Abby's room, who looked attentive.

The blonde's arms and legs crossed as she rested against her chair, seemingly frustrated by some stuff she was working on in her desk. "My... uh, I'm bringing someone? I was wondering- it's Friday, maybe I-"

"Yeah, I dont mind it. Just try to keep it quiet"

Abby who was also the first to break the rules

And there she was, flirting with the girl Ellie had fought so much to gain the smallest attention- "Yeah? is that so? oh... really?" currently one am and whatever stress she'd gathered along the week long forgotten.

Ellie who eventually put her own rules. And who got humbled every time because she didn't really care so Abby was the one reminding her about it.

"Why don't you just take mine?" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full, her phone in one hand and her bowl of cereal in the other as she watched the blonde walk all over the small kitchen.

Abby had been around five minutes trying to find a clean tupper of her own, almost having a crisis because oh she was one long minute late already. "You told me not to touch your stuff"

Abby who's super cool to Ellie's eyes, and Ellie who brags about her very cool roommate who's also very smart and strong and nice and sweet and nerdy and many cute stuff.

"didn't you say you wanted to find other place last week?"

"shut up jesse, she just- she was so annoying that day, okay? we are good now"

"we? bro she doesn't even talk to you"

Abby who made it feel illegal to even walk pass her room if her door was open? she was so strict over privacy matters. And Ellie who couldn't care less, taking any chance she had to glance at the room.

"You don't like star wars? what's with the poster then-" and only there, with Abby's look and the awkward silence, Ellie realized she had just fucked the little chance she had to get along with the blonde.

Abby, who eventually stopped caring so much about privacy matters and rules, it was practically impossible. Ellie was charming in her own way, and Abby wasn't so serious after all.

"The movie was lame" the auburnette spoke with her mouth full of a mix of chocolate and whatever else. Abby’s fingers stopped their track between the blonde locks being unbraided- her face into a frown as she met Ellie’s eyes. "You don't like anything! it's the fifth-" Their voices overlapped, Ellie denying whatever statement the blonde was trying to explain or prove. "You choose the next one and better keep quiet-" and again, shouting and anxious eating from Ellie who couldn't feel more comfortable suddenly.

[lilium-dell]

RANDOM MOUTHWASHING HEADCANNONS

This is going to be a long post...I apologise in advance.

And english isn't my first language, I apologise for any mistakes! (´；ω；`)

Captain Curly (pre-crash)

Used to be a rebel as a teen, have bad grades, drink, all the stuff. Because of that, he gave himself piercings and some hand poked tattoos.

He still has some scars from said piercings and hides the badly done tattoos he did at the ripe age of 16.

Hates science fiction movies. He thinks that they are super unrealistic and will spend the entire time criticizing them.

Loves romcoms tho.

Secretly loves punk music, the only thing left from his rebellious phase.

Works out as much as he can. He's sad? Goes to the gym. He's happy? Gym. He's stressed? Gym.

When he goes to the Tulpar, he always brings some weights so he can lift before bed/after he wakes up.

Gives the best hugs. You can't tell me this man will not bear hug you until you feel better.

Wanted to be a psychologist before studying to be a pilot, yet he gave up because he was too much of a people pleaser.

His favorite animal is bears, grizzly ones to be exact.

Captain Curly (after crash)

Spends the days thinking on what he could've done to make things different.

After he gets rescued from the cryogenic pod, he can't help but feel survivors guilt. All his crew was dead, except for the captain that should've gone down with the ship first.

After he gets his prosthetics, it takes him a while to get used to them and feels some phantom pain on the stumps of his arms and legs once in a while.

He regularly writes to his fallen crew members as if they are still alive. It helps him cope.

He also stayed in touch with the families of his fallen crew. Curly always apologizes for their death.

Anya

Left her cat on earth and the last words she said to him was "When I come back, I'll buy you wet food", as she would always buy treats for her cat after every excursion.

Her favorite thing to do on earth was to read with her cat on her lap and some tea.

Is a only child but always had pets throught her childhood.

Is a bad loser, everytime she loses at the game nights on board of the Tulpar she goes on a raging fit. Doesn't really hide it.

The only time the crew have seen her mad is when she loses at games.

Used to do combat sports as a teenager. Seeing the wounds of the people she trained with made her want to pursue medicine.

Is a really good driver. Just road rages a bit.

Wears contacts.

Her last thought on the medical bay was about her cat and how much he would miss her.

Daisuke

Loves shooting and RPG games.

Fluent in English and Japanese. Speaks mostly in japanese at home with his parents.

Has a younger sister. He used to let her do makeup on him when they were both younger.

Used to be a popular kid but never really had a girlfriend.

HUGE fantasy nerd.

He's actually a very smart kid, used to be an honor student.

Tried to teach Swansea about Pokemon and Kingdom Hearts lore on their lunch breaks. Swansea tried to understand.

Helps Anya take care of Curly, even if he doesn't have any medical experience.

Tried smoking once, started wheezing and gave up immediatelly.

Ties his hair when he needs to be super focused.

His playlist goes from Tyler the Creator to Lady Gaga to Bach in a click. The playlist is called Whiplash.

Swansea

Dog person. He definitely loves big dogs.

Sees the entire crew almost like family and takes care of them like family.

Listens to dad rock/country while reading the newspaper to relax.

He has a picture of his kids next to his bed. Unfortunately, everything got destroyed in the crash.

Was the one who brought the tabletop games for the crew. He's a huge tabletop games fan.

Girldad. He definitely spoiled his kids as much as he could.

Huge sports fan. Specially soccer.

Jimbabwe (I'm sorry)

Smokes two packs of cigarettes a day. Rothmans to be more specific.

He has a narcissistic disorder.

When he was a kid he used to torment his siblings.

Met Curry when training to be a pilot and got extremely jealous and spiteful when Curry got promoted instead of him.

Hates when Daisuke calls him every name under the sun except his. (Ex. Jimbo, Ji-man, Jimin, Jin).

Had an obsession with American Psycho as a teenager.

He was an edgy teenager.

I have so many headcannons but if I put them all here, the post would be gigantic...

[tinybeetiny]

Aren’t You Embarrassed Part 4: P.S

NonIdol!Toxic!Fratboy!SeonghwaxAfab!ReaderxNonIdol!Fratboy!Jongho love whatever you can call it triangle….

Taglist: @n1nme4r @e3ellie

Sorry this took so long, I've been feeling a little stuck these days. Ugh I have a plan for the next few parts… but I’m glad Jongho got his lick back because… as he should!

Cw: explicit language, toxic everything

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“Jongho wait! Please!” You called out, trying to chase the boy as he stomps out of the Library. Luckily the door was a pull not a push which slowed him down just enough for you to catch up “Jongho please.” You begged, grabbing his arm. Your heart clenches when he rips it out of your hold “No. What the actually fuck was that huh? You said you were over him, completely” his voice was loud and thankfully you both were out of the library or else you would’ve gotten the scolding of a lifetime “I am I swear. He caught me at a bad time and I wasn’t thinking straight please.” Jongho really didn’t know what to say. Yeah he expected it from Seonghwa but from you, absolutely not. He thought that you were 100000% over Seonghwa. He would watch as you two walked around campus hand and hand noticing the dark glare from the older man but you never even noticed, never batted an eye, too engrossed in the person you were with. Maybe that’s why Jongho felt immense anger with your words, his eye twitching slightly “Caught you at a bad time? What? Waiting for me?”

He really could not believe what he was hearing. If all you needed was a distraction he was fine with that in fact he was the one who offered. Things only started to change when you wanted more. The little dates, the hand holding, the late night phone calls, everything you initiated. So he was genuinely confused with the events that unfolded just a few minutes ago “No please I didn’t mean it like that” you were on the verge of tears and you can only imagine how you looked right now following Jongho like a sad puppy trying to get him to listen “Then how did you mean it because the way I’m taking it is while you were waiting for me to show up to our study date you let Seonghwa finger you in the nonfiction section AFTER you tell me you have all these big feelings for me so tell me (y/n) how did you mean it?” Jongho spun around to face you stopping you in your tracks. He was mad, no more like furious and a little embarrassed. He really didn’t talk to people or even date for that matter but there was something about you that was different, or so he thought.

You open your mouth to explain but no words come out and you’re stuck opening and closing your mouth like a fish. He lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head “You know what. Just forget it. Forget all of this and just leave me the fuck alone” You feel your heart break when he turns and stomps off leaving you in the middle of the side walk with tears streaming down your face. Seonghwa stands at the front of the doors to library, a smug smile on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. It’s only a matter of time before you unblock his number and crawl back into his bed. He feels no remorse, no sympathy just a little victory. He had you first and no matter how hard you try and convince yourself otherwise, he will always have some sort of hold over you. His smile only seemed to grow more when he watches Jongho storm off and more tears run down your cheeks.

You tried, you really did but no matter how many times you reached out Jongho would never answer. You tried to approach him on campus but as soon as you got close he would disappear. You couldn’t just show up to his place and risk running into Seonghwa again, that’s the last thing you wanted but you needed to talk to him, to make things right if he let you. You like Jongho, you genuinely do. He makes you feel great in AND out of the bedroom and you’d be damned if you were going to let some arrogant asshole ruin things. So that’s how you found yourself walking up to that stupid frat house, knocking on the door and praying Seonghwa was not the one who answered. Luckily San was the one to open the door who is very surprised at your presence “Oh! Hey (y/n). Um Seonghwa isn’t here right now” he said awkwardly scratching the back of his neck “Oh no, I’m not here to see him. I was wondering if Jongho was here?” Your hands clasp behind your back as you sway anxiously. His eyebrows raise and his eyes widen slightly “Jongho? Oh! He’s in his room. BUT HE HAS SOMEONE oh nevermind” as soon as you heard he was in his room you pushed past San and ran up the stairs too focused to hear what he was yelling about.

You were determined to talk things through with Jongho one way or another but when you opened his door all hope flew out of the window. There he lay very comfortably with some girl that was in your communications, whom you didn’t care enough to get to know, bouncing like a bunny in heat. He looked over when he heard the door open only to see your shocked expression “Are you going to stand there and watch like a weirdo or are you going to leave?” Your expression morphed into hurt as you spun to leave “Hey (y/n)” you paused when he called out to you feeling the tiniest bit of hope “Can you close the door when you leave? Thanks” you slam the door shut behind you and rush down the stairs needing to leave this scummy house. But can you really be that upset? Do you have the right? You knew Jongho was upset but you still hoped he’d be willing to talk at least.

San watched you practically float down the stairs and Mingi perked up from his spot on the couch. He knew, everyone knew. It wasn’t Jongho who told them, no no the boy was too private to tell them about his situationships. Oh no this was Seonghwa and his big cocky mouth. The boys knew you and Jongho were seeing each other but weren’t really surprised when Seonghwa bragged about the library incident figuring you were back under his spell again. So when Jongho brought the other girl over they didn’t bat an eye “Yo (y/n) what are you doing here? Hwa’s not here so are you trying to get with another frat member?” Mingi teased. You didn’t even process his words as you sprinted out of the front door just wanting to be in the comfort of your own dorm but it seems the universe wanted to punish you even more. Tears blurred your vision so you didn’t see figure approaching “Woah sweetheart what’s the rush” hands hold your arms trying to stabilize you. You blinked a few times to get rid of the tears out of your eyes and when your vision cleared Seonghwa’s dark eyes were staring back at you. You sniffle not having the energy to push him off “Aww poor baby.” He taunts before pulling you against his body, wrapping his arms around you “Why don’t you come back inside and I can help you feel better yeah?”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..

[bunnihearted]

😠

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

[charmre]

It's too kind of you to say you can help but there's no one around who can save me from myself

[con-clavi-con-jae]

Recently passed a chemistry exam

Thank you Vessel for teaching me that she's not acid not alkaline

[paging-possum]

The more things change the more they stay the same

[carbonbasedmatter]

they should give you a minimum 20 years after coming back from school to rest and process everything that happened

[noridal]

This post was supposed to be a rant about ESC fans asking for countries to only sing in their native language, instead I'm turning it into a music recommendation post since I feel like these requests comes from a place of "I want to listen to music that's different from usual, and not the usual pop radio songs".

As someone whose music taste can be summed up as "if it's weird, I'm in" have some music that you definitely don't listen to on the radio:

Albums:

The Rabbit that hunts tigers -Yin Yin (This would the perfect soundtrack for a futuristic western movie where the main character is also a samurai imo)

Kontinuum- Klaus Schulze (cool background music, mysterious sci-fi but not in a soul crushing or scary way)

Flight of the Ancients- The Shaolin Afronauts (the best intro to an album I've ever heard and funky jazzy vibes. Cool trumpets)

Semillero- Dengue Dengue Dengue (idk how to describe this but mh. Would use it as a soundtrack for Heart of Darkness by Conrad)

The Gereg -The Hu (Mongolian Rock-Metal, worth checking them out)

The Gods We can Touch- AURORA (this is way less obscure than other suggestions but I swear to god AURORA sounds like an angel to me but the vibes are those of a biblically accurate one)

Songs:

Hocus Pocus- Focus (prog rock jodel?!? Spotify suggested this to me and I'm in love with this)

Acid Rain- Liquid Tension Experiment (found this by searching jazz metal. Instrumental. Very good)

Trumpet Sketches - Janko Nilovic (trumpet makes brain go brrrr)

Artists:

NanowaR of Steel (Italian comedy metal band. Sings both in English and Italian, if you ask me they go for the too-good-to-be-just-a-joke comedy)

Dr. Steel (Dark with dieselpunk vibes. Every song is unique yet the vibe is so familiar, definitely villainy. Comes with lore)

Paul Shapera (a compilation of rock operas that take place in the same universe, there's plot. Lots of it. I can't recommend a single one because the cool part is seeing the story evolve)

Tales under the Oak (dungeon synth music, very calming and frog themed)

Specific playlists I have too much fun making:

POV: you just died but luckily there's a party on the other side

This is about craving your lover's insides (both playlists are currently in progress and will be updated whenever I feel like it)

All links lead to spotify, except for kontinuum which I could find only on YouTube. Also please note that the playlists include less obscure songs so maybe that's a good place from where you can start? Idk. Italic means that it's only instrumental, I feel like Hocus Pocus should be in the group too but jodel counts as singing.