#in the case me n spacy have been talking about:

[quick-drawn]

to me cassidy always seemed like the type that'd offer up a firm handshake to go along with a brief introduction, curt nod and one of the friendliest smiles you'll ever see, just before he uses that handshake to pull you into a headbutt for thinking you could talk to his friend over there like that —

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.15

When You Come Back to Me

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3290

Summary: The reunion of soulmates. 

Do I need to say more?

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, light angst and fluff

A/N: Let me voice what I assume are your thoughts (and mine too, tbh): Fucking finally!

Story masterlist

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So… you might be panicking.

A little.

To be fair, all of your worries were justified, every single one of them, and that was why you voiced them.

“What if he’s gonna attack me? I mean, you thought I was a fake.”

“What if he passes out from the shock? I know no first aid! I barely know my own name!”

“What if he jumps out of the window? I mean, I might if thought I was seeing a ghost-“

Natasha Romanoff shot you an amused glance, continuing her stroll through the halls of Tower, and you had a hunch you weren’t the only one well-aware that the last question was simply you making excuses for not meeting your soulmate just yet.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did, so, so much, but at the same time…. yeah, you were definitely panicking.

“He’s not gonna jump out of a window. As for the other cases, which are about as likely, I’m gonna be there with you to make sure it doesn’t happen before you get to actually talk. Happy?”

Not really.

Your brain was still coming up with more ridiculous what ifs, that annoying little things, and now your frantic heart and the actual worries joined the party and you had a strong urge to spin on your heels and walk the fuck away.

“What if… what if he hates me?” you whispered, your chest tightening at the thought. That was the real concern, wasn’t it? “I mean, I’m alive and he was through hell, because he thought I wasn’t. What if he hates me, because I didn’t come sooner? I can’t even remember him – how messed up is that?”

It wasn’t until the redhead stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you that you realized you had in fact frozen on spot.

“He’s not gonna hate you, милашка,” she assured you with softness you didn’t expect her to be capable of, her features compassionate and kind. “None of that was your fault.”

You ignored whatever she had called you in favour on focusing on more important matters. “But neither it was his.”

A smile flirted on her lips, a simple tug of the corners of her mouth, brief – but you still saw it as she continued walking then, speaking up again.

“You tell him that.”

“Uh-huh…”

By the universal law of the Universe, the she only took few more steps before facing the captain’s door, apparently.

“Ready?”

“Not really,” you murmured honestly, earning an understanding nod.

“That’s fair. Jarvis? Is he decent?” the spy asked lowly as she gently pushed you in front of herself so you entered first.

Instead of an answer, the door slowly opened upon the AI’s command, effectively sending your heart to a gallop you weren’t sure it could handle. The door could creak for a dramatic effect and you wouldn’t be able to hear it over the whooshing noise in your ears.

Natasha Romanoff might have nudged you to come in. You weren’t sure; your legs carried you on their own without you remembering ordering them so.

The spacy bedroom slash private living room with a couch and coffee table was plain. Nothing special about it, huge slats covering a window replacing one of the walls only partly opened.

Sure, it was kinda impressive and it kinda wasn’t and it didn’t matter the moment you had laid your eyes to the second door of the room right opposite to the window.

A blond man stood still in the doorway to what you assumed was his bathroom, hand frozen in motion as it went through his damp hair.

You couldn’t help but stare at him for several reasons.

Firstly, he looked… familiar. There was an air around him, screaming sincerity and gentleness, kindness. Comfort. And sorrow.

You had seen the pictures of him, sure, the video even, but this was something quite different. Upon meeting him in flesh, you somehow knew… it wasn’t all a lie. You were meant to find him and your racing heart and mind were on board with that.

He was also incredibly handsome. You had met a real-life angel and you were confident he must have helped to sculpture this man’s face and body. He was wearing a white tank top, revealing his muscled arms, dark sweatpants hanging from his thin waist, seemingly even thinner with comparison to his broad shoulders.

His face had shock written all over it, but still held beauty no man should possess. Men were supposed to handsome, but seeing his eyes, you couldn’t help but think of the word beautiful. His lips were plump, no doubt prettier than yours, his cheekbones and strong jaw were a gift from God and… you had a hunch that when his hair wasn’t wet and was lighter tone, it resembled a glowing halo.

For some reason and out of nowhere, you recalled the phrase ‘I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying’ and had to wonder if the author of those words thought of this man when writing them down. You could totally see that happening.

Your gaze was glued to him, the depth of his eyes leaving you unable to form words.

“I hate dreams like this,” he whispered hoarsely, sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice, god, his voice, the one you had heard in the video, carrying the same pain, but more importantly, the one you had been hearing in your dreams … said the words written on your skin. There was no doubt now.

It didn’t make you less dumbfounded. What should you even say in a moment like this? What could you say to a man who was your soulmate, the mere sight of you chasing tears into his eyes, because you were supposed to be dead?  

“I’m sorry?” you offered hesitantly, causing the man – Steve, Steve Rogers, he had a name, he was your soulmate for god’s sake – release a choked sound. You needed no other confirmation of your words matching the mark on his collarbone.

Also, go me. What a first line to bless him with on his skin.

No other words were exchanged, two people utterly mesmerized by one another, starring at each other in stunned silence.

Agent Romanoff, leaning onto the doorframe, cleared her throat, causing you both to wince. You had totally forgotten about her, to be honest. Clearly, so had the captain.

“Before you ask: yes, she’s real, Steve. Very real,” she emphasized as if she wanted to prove his exclaim about dreams wrong. “She’ll explain what she can, which… isn’t much. Just so you know we ran every test possible already. She’s no faker. I’ll leave you two some privacy.”

With a quiet clank, the door closed shut when she slipped from the room and seemingly, she took all the air from your lungs with her. Or maybe just your ability to speak, you weren’t sure.

“You’re… what—how?” he asked, his face pure shock, unhealthily pale.

Seeing a tear rolling down his cheek and hearing his voice crack nearly broke your heart.

You had a feeling you had always been a softie, the story about soul bonds torn apart enough to make you weepy… living it though? Being in the centre of such heart-breaking story, standing few feet from the man who had lost his soulmate, being able to almost touch the pain and shock on his face, only now noticing the lines of exhaustion, the bags under his eyes… your own eyes started to burn with tears. Again.

He took several hesitant steps closer, his gaze fixed on your features.

“Ca-captain Rogers, I…” His face twisted in a strange grimace, causing your stomach to clench. He probably wasn’t happy about you calling him that. You had been calling him Steve, at least in the video. Obviously. “I mean… Mr. Rogers. Steve.”

He seemed utterly confused and you couldn’t say you blamed him.

You were all really friggin’ confused, alright.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. You-- you-“

“Look just like the woman in the video? The one telling you to-“ let her die. Your stomach rolled over at finishing the thought. You tried to shake it off, focusing on keeping your voice somewhat even. And on actually explaining the situation as much as you could.

“I know. I didn’t remember my name, I don’t remember me, my family, my friends. I don’t… I don’t remember you and yet… there is no way I’m not the person everyone claims I am and you… you seem familiar and I heard your voice in my dream, which is entirely crazy and…-”

Steve watched you, mesmerized and frowning as you chuckled self-depreciatingly. Not knowing what to say next, you unbuttoned the top of your shirt, revealing your collarbone, first the crossed-out words, only then the fresher ones.

Steve erased the distance between you completely, reluctantly holding the hem of your shirt to see.

And the strangest thing was that you wanted him to linger with his gaze. To touch your skin even, run his fingertips over the words, hell, place a kiss over them… and it should freak you out, wanting this from a stranger, but it felt right. You weren’t intimidated by the intimate proximity of a man whom you just met. You liked it. You felt safe. You longed for his arms around you.

Rather than saying your desires out loud – and it would be ridiculously easy under his intent eyes – you breathed in slowly and collected your thoughts.

“I’m… this is gonna sound insane, but Ms. Romanoff already heard this whole story and I know it’s incredible, ‘cause it kinda involves angels and resurrections, but if you’re willing to listen-“

“I’ll listen,” he promised lowly, his brilliant eyes – not blue as you thought at first, but with a little drop of green paint in them, as if God thought of the blue being too perfect and the joke ended up being on him, because they were breath-taking – meeting yours, a vow heavier than his words written in them.

Your breath hitched when the pools of the fascinating colour welcomed you sincerely. You… you wanted to drown in them.

“Thank you. I… you should see something first though.”

“More than the words?” he asked in a whisper, bewildered.

You nodded, taking a hesitant step back, his fingers hovering in the air for few seconds, twitching even, before his hands fell to his sides. You hastily fished out your fake ID to cover the fact his motions made you blush and handed the item to Steve, who frowned in confusion.

You licked your lips and went to explain.

“Sam, Dean and Cas – the men who helped me to get here and find you – they…” How exactly you should put that? Telling a superhero that they faked your ID? “-ugh, they found me and faked my ID since I needed it in order to… eh, exist. And I don’t remember a thing, alright? I didn’t know my name until I read about myself on the internet and Ms. Romanoff – Natasha, ironically – confirmed it, along with the Jarvis. So I picked one. ‘Natasha’ came to my mind first. And-“

“-and Rogers,” he breathed out, slowly lifting his gaze. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was undeniable fascination in his sparkling irises.

“I don’t know you and yet I do. I don’t remember us, but there’s this feeling. I believe this isn’t a coincidence. Or maybe it’s nothing,” you chuckled self-depreciatingly once more. God, what were you doing now… “Maybe I’m not supposed to be here, maybe I’m being silly now-“

Steve interrupted you with a watery laugh, tears springing from his eyes. The sound shut your mouth effectively, surprising you greatly.

“What?”

“It was one of the first things you told me. You being silly. Stupid even,” he explained and your chest tightened. What did that mean? And how could you not remember that dammit!

“…oh. Did you… agree?” you pried, worrying your teeth over your lower lip, only to earn a gentle shake of his head.

“No.”

“What did you say?”

A sad smile graced his lips, soft thing full of sorrow and fondness. “I’ll tell you later if you still want me to.”

“I will!” you reassured him swiftly, perhaps to eagerly. You weren’t sure whether it was the prospect of his presence or learning about yourself (and him) that had you so eager. Probably a bit of both. “I… I’d like to hear the story behind my soulmark too... and to know yours.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “Okay. I promise to tell you everything I know as long as you ask it.”

The message of you having the courtesy to set the direction and pace of the next moments – or perhaps hours, days – didn’t escape your attention and warmed you heart, causing your lips to turn upright a fraction.

“You’re a truly kind person, aren’t you?” you more stated than asked lowly and Steve lowered his gaze as if sheepish, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes frantically searched the room.

“You… uhm, you can judge that later. Why don’t… why don’t we sit on the couch?”

And here went the kindness again…

“I’d like that. I think it’s better if you sit down for what I have to say too.”

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You were surprised Steve didn’t interrupt you once.

Sure, his face spoke volumes whenever you found enough courage to look up at it, instead of keeping your gaze down in your lap, mostly fascinated by your fiddling fingers.

At the end of your narration, you shrugged and sighed in relief of getting it all out.

“So, here I am. Zero memory besides the dreams of you talking to me and calling me ‘doll’. I’ve seen a video of myself dying, learned about people actually lighting candles for me all over the United States, like I’m… I don’t know. That’s a kind of thing done for Princess Diana, for god’s sake. I did my reading – because I don’t remember who that was. I don’t know things and I—I don’t want to complain, I was apparently brought back from death, I should-- I should be grateful, I know that much, and I am, okay, but-“

You weren’t sure when you had lost control over your brain to mouth filter, when you had lost control over your emotions, because since meeting him, you had been somehow coping, so why now, why-- why were you just pouring words to the limited space between you and couldn’t just stop-

Large, slightly calloused and very much warm hand caught your suddenly trembling fingers. Your mouth fell shut, your eyelids closing on instinct. Why was there the burn in your eyes again as if you wanted to cry? You had no right to cry.

…did you?

“Hey, hey, don’t do this,” Steve coaxed you, his other hand brushing your shoulder and you just wanted him to hug you. You would take the soothing touch and calming circles drawn on your shoulder since he offered at least that though, but god, a hug would feel so much better. “You lost your memories. Your life.”

“You lost your soulmate,” you whispered back, opening your eyes with a shaky breath. He averted your gaze and you caught a flicker of shame and anger before he did so.

“I killed my soulmate,” he corrected you, his voice turning hoarse and hard, his touch disappearing from you. You wanted it back instantly, already missing it and hating how his hands clenched into fists in what could be self-hatred.

You shook your head. You two were being ridiculous and downright stupid. Instead of being happy to find each other again – though not quite – you were having a pity party and going for guilt trips. You bit your lip nervously when reaching to cover one of his fists for a change.

His fingers immediately twitched and you fought the instinct to pull away. Or lean in?

“You were given an impossible choice, Steve. No one can blame you for trying to save everyone.”

“I can. I do… as should you,” he uttered and you sighed, realizing that maybe he did believe you that you meant it – maybe he didn’t –, but it didn’t matter as long as it was eating him up from inside.

You shrugged rather light-heartedly, but took special care to emphasize every word that came out of your mouth next, to show you were hundred percent serious and honest.

“Well, I guess I don’t. All of this sucks and I cannot imagine what it’s like for you, me being here, maybe acting… differently than—ugh, than me. The me you know. The me that remembered us. But I’m here. Alive. If there’s a chance…”

This got him look at you, expression conflicted. Yeah, you understood ‘conflicted’, alright. You wanted to learn everything you forgot, but upon saying out loud how hard it must have been for him, you realized just how natural would be for him to ask you to leave and let him have his peace after… everything.

“But if… if you want me to leave, I mean, I won’t be very happy about it, but-“

His fist opened immediately, gripping your hand almost painfully before you could even pull away an inch.

“Please don’t!” he pleaded hastily, effectively starling you. His features softened when you nodded then, his eyes burning with sincerity. “If you still want to hear about how we met…”

“I’d like that very much,” you attempted to smile at him, calmness washing over you when his face lit up.

Crisis averted.

Though not the threat for your heart. It didn’t ache as much as it had when you first entered – but boy, now it started swelling in your chest as his eyes sparkled, his whole being coming a bit more to life. It was a breath-taking show to watch.

“Do you want something to drink? I’m being a terrible host, sorry-“

He stood up quickly, releasing your hand, his own instantly going to clutch at the fabric of his sweats. It was endearing, seeing him being the nervous one.

“Feels like you’d be entitled. But you’re doing fine, Steve.”

“O-okay. Tea?”

“I guess…? I found out I don’t really have a thing for coffee…?” you explained hesitantly and for some reason, it brought a smile to Steve’s face. Maybe there was a story?

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Right. You probably hadn’t been a coffee person before- before. That would make sense. Him knowing that would make even more sense.

“Well, I’m glad at least some things apparently don’t change.”

A hint of a blush painted his cheeks and you watched him, fascinated. Aw, now that was so precious. Why blush though?

“I… uhm, I still have what used to be your favourite tea stocked, so… maybe that?”

Your lips parted at his thoughtfulness. It made you wonder though; just how far your relationship had been when you had… ugh, died? Were you official? Probably. Was there any funny business involved?  With your dreams, you had a pretty good idea about that, but you could never be sure they weren’t just memories of your fantasies. Were there… plans for the future already?

Just how well did you know each other? How much you were robbed of? How much of you Steve was missing? How could you not remember this amazing man, who apparently cared about you so deeply?

Your dark thoughts must have shown on your face, because he wavered.

“Or not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, freak you out or-“

“No! That’s not—it’s just-I--it-ugh-“ Oh wow, you were so terrible at speaking. ”That… the tea, yeah, that sounds pretty nice.”

His smile had faltered earlier, now returning, only less convincing. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be waiting right here,” you declared, patting the couch with both hands for demonstration.

Perhaps it was only your imagination, but he actually seemed assured at that. Less worried.

Yeah, you definitely made that up.

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Part 16

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Thank you for reading!

I hope the wait was worth it ;) Yeah/nah? Btw, Natasha called ‘Nat’ a cutie (or a loved one).

[melaninkimchi]

Effloresce (ReaderxJungkook)

Because you can never have too much fluff.

There were no words to describe how beautiful he was. Some people say that people or objects gain beauty the more you look at them. The stronger your gaze, the stronger your determination to find all the good, shiny sides. Some people would be correct in this case. Your eyes finally met his across the brim of his cup and he chuckled to himself at having caught you in the act of admiring him yet again. No words were spoken. He simply lowered his tea and gave you the same fond gaze he did every week. 

 You and Jungkook met like this every Friday morning, it was the only time neither of you had classes, or work, or other commitments. Sometimes you met on other days, snatches of time conceived from bright ideas, and scheduling adjustments. But Friday mornings were reserved for the two of you, like a running doctor’s appointment to ensure neither of you died. 

 “Y/N, you haven’t said anything in like, 5 whole minutes,” his wide smile complemented his observation. 

 “Neither have you, soooooo, your point?” Your grin matched his. 

 “We should talk about something,” he was giggling now. Nothing was funny, but this happened every time you were together. Two years later, and you still found delight in simply being around each other. Your inherent friendship formed the backbone to your relationship, borne of one too many longing looks shared between you over months of deliberation and should I’s. 

 “Let’s talk about when we’re going to make time to go to the arcade together, it’s been ages,” you whine, digging out your planner. 

 “It’s been a few months, and whenever you want Y/N.” He had a penchant for never truly calling you by a nickname. You kept meaning to ask him why, but decided not to. All of your friends shortened your name, and him retaining it felt like the one exception to the rule. 

 “How about…next Saturday? I’ll be done with that team dinner around 6:30pm,” you looked up hopefully. As a creature of solitude, you normally would reserve a Saturday evening after a full week for yourself, but increasingly, you found yourself sacrificing that time to meet with Jungkook. And if you really needed pajama time, you would have him over to watch anime movies, in which you both just ended up mindlessly talking for hours. It was refreshing, the stuff of dreams, really. 

 “Yep, I’m down, I can spank you again at that racing game you like so much.”

 “Hey!” you yelled in mock offense. And his giggles were back, teeth flashing, genuine happiness on display for you to drink it in like the latte you were letting grow cold in front of you. 

 “It’s just so much fun to mess with you. But you know it’s all love,” he quipped, reaching for your hand with his free one. “

Yea, yea, I’m just here for your whims and fancies.” 

 “You’re not wrong, but also, I just really like you.” You felt your face heat up with that statement. You never failed to react to Jungkook. He could be dressed in the plainest clothes, and you would think he looked great, your heart fluttering, your brain screaming, every sense on edge. Simply because sometimes you couldn’t believe this wonderful human wanted to be yours.

 “You’re spacy today, my dear. What’s on your mind?” 

 “You,” you immediately answer and get your own laughs at the way his cheeks immediately redden. “Thank you for being my human.” 

 “I love being your human. It’s lit, and I get to bother you all the time.” 

 “By bother, you mean make me happy. Thank you honey.” 

 “You’re welcome.” If possible, his hand clasped tighter around your free one.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 What she doesn’t know is that he is madly and completely in love with her. Too busy holding the stars in her own heart, she cannot discern that he is over the moon every Friday that she graces his presence in the café amidst her busy schedule. Well, both of them were busy, but in his eyes, she was busier. Driven, always running after her goals, inspirational really. 

 He yearned to finally pour out his heart to her, the way he always encouraged his hyungs to, but he was truthfully scared. Their relationship was newer, and they had been close friends for so long that while the next level of dating was logical, expected even with the way they vibed, he still was getting up the gumption to take it to the next level with that three word sentence. He didn’t want to move along and ask more of her than she could reasonably give. 

With each passing week, his resolve crumbled though. He somehow wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to uncover some of those deeper layers no mere friend can. But could he? He knew he had to try. And he would be brave, brave enough to stay by her side and dare to be irreplaceable. 

XXXXXXXXXX

 You and Jungkook left the café together today at the customary time of noon, the two of you holding hands as he leisurely lead you to your car. “I hope your day goes smoothly,” you wished him, almost wistfully. You longed to spend one full day with Jungkook, it had been a couple months since the last time you did, since he had gathered up the courage to officially ask you out. 

 “It will, because I saw you today,” and he kissed your forehead before pulling you into one of his hugs you loved so much. You turned your head to kiss his cheek and he let you before kissing you thoroughly right in front of your car. In the two months you’d been together, you rarely kissed, and you blamed it on your being just friends for so long and then completely frazzled nerves every time you even saw him, let alone smelled his cologne coming your way. 

 “Weow, geez, I have to drive now after that? I need a sit,” you joked once he let you go with another kiss to your forehead. 

 “So then you remember and think of me throughout the day.” He looked absolutely proud of himself and he opened your car door for you before ushering you in. 

 “Text me tonight,” he requested, leaning in through your rolled down window to give you another peck. 

 “Yes, sir, I’ll see you later.” You felt different and definitely bothered, in the best way. He waved and turned to walk across the lot to his own car. You pulled out the lot first so as not to worry him about why you were just sitting there. And promptly screamed. You were falling in love with the guy more each and every day.

[twinkledadwa]

Twinkledad’s: The “I Got Ghosted” Episode

Today, my CoStar daily alert read like this:

“When you feel an impulse to control another person, use it as a prompt to remember that you can’t.”

Believing in the stars is kind of stupid. Rooting back in my high school naivety, though, I do believe everything happens for a reason. And if you believe in that, then what happens makes sense.

If you read this blog, I made it known there was supposed to be a Twinkledad’s interview. 

If you’re reading this now, you’ll know it fell through.

Reddit PMs are not an efficient way to book plans, first of all. Doing it two months in advanced of a tour they announced morning of is boneheaded too. I recognized how ballsy of an idea it was, given the complete lack of professionalism. I have no professional experience, and honestly, there was no real reason to do the interview. Any money or “clout” ventures are stupid. It was just to have done it.

Yesterday, we agreed to do the interview after the show (through actual DMs). I went to buy merch, and during the interaction, told the initial point of contact who I was. From what I heard (I, a single perspective), the response was:

                                            “Oh...good for you”.

And we exchanged names, which was kinda jarring. I had no idea where to build from, and ultimately didn’t. A friend and I waited until everything was shut off, gear packed, then left. We ate In N’ Out. During the time spent waiting, we delved into conversation that was in the moment. No talks of the future, only discussion that could have existed then.

I couldn’t have had a better finish to the night.

The common response is to fling shit at the walls when your favorite DIY twinkle-emo band doesn’t give you attention, and try to move forces against them. This situation feels inline to being ghosted by/ghosting a romantic interest. 

 I could have handled what led up to it much better. Perspectives differ. They’re a touring band, they don’t owe anything to me as just a fan. Anybody’s selfish, specifically mine in this case, shouldn’t matter to any other but yourself. Not even that statement right there. The night became less of holding onto that sliver of hope and more enjoying where I was at. 

I discovered this band through a person whom my opinion of shouldn’t affect them, and vice versa. It’s nice to know how it has come full circle, ending with a 10 inch, a fleeting experience, and a shirt I’m still going to wear to brunch tomorrow. (EDIT: i also just remembered he didn’t give me my change back for the merch, which i was okay with at the time, but yeah that is kind of dodgy)

However, questions were sent in, and they don’t deserve to be ignored. Here are my answers, and you can imagine some quirky banter if everything went differently.

Dear Twinkledad,

Given everything I just said above, what music recommendations would you give?

Anonymous.

“So I’m leaving...

  voooOOiiiiCCeeeemaaaiiiiiillllsssss”

Cloud District - Hamster Camp

Bug Bath - Unique Experience

Jawbreaker - Boxcar

Algae Bloom - Thornes

Kississippi - Cut Yr Teeth

Dear Twinkledad,

Things recently ended with a person I had been seeing. I hurt them, didn’t communicate my feelings properly, and I feel like garbage for it. I leave the continent for 5 months in a few weeks, and I want to reach out before I leave, but I also want to give her space? Should I wait and see if she reaches out? I’m a dumb stupid idiot.

Dumb, Stupid Idiot.

Dumb, Stupid Idiot,

This is tough. Even through a small paragraph, I could sense a lot of regret. And usually, waiting until they, as the offended party, responds is a smart move, but the continental move complicates it.

If you have genuine sorrow, please reach out as soon as what’s reasonable. The time you’ll be gone will impact how she approaches it, and five months is a lot of time to sit on a negative feeling like that. If you’re in the position of having hurt someone, extending that hand once your heart feels the need to is important. Also, inferring the situation, you’re probably the one who would need to apologize (not a bad thing! we all are in this spot, one way or another!)

Hopefully this helped. I truly do wish you the best.

Casiotone for the Painfully Alone - Nashville Parthenon

Stars Hollow - As You Were Before.

Frail Body - Old Friends

Hightide Hotel - A Soft Subtle Sound

Dear Twinkledad,

how do I find interesting things to do for my last semester of high school? everything feels like too much work to start and everyone else seems too busy to hangout.

Anonymous.

Anonymous,

I was in a similar position Senior year. When you get into college, those troubles will get infinitely better. It’s practically a boiling pot for activity.

For the time being, try relying on your impulses. Stupid, yes, but if you want to experience youth to its fullest, this is how. Interesting things to do lies within the “schizophrenia” (spacy, uneven rhythm in life) of what surrounds you. There is no purpose to try too hard for something. Let it happen, only focus on how your heart beats, and not an ideal nature your mind is trying to create.

Vandalism, finger painting, walks, kratom, anything and everything.

Cow tipping?

Yes.

It sounds like you’re left to nothing but to fuck around for the time you have left. Make it worth it. Hopefully that helped!

Laura Stevenson - Master of Art

Total Downer - Everything Is Gonna Be Alright

For Your Health - Second Aid Kit

Sleep Kit - Je Ne Sais Pas, Aue

Dear Twinkledad,

I am interested in a girl but I'm unsure we are compatible. I always run into her at skramz shows so I know we at least some musical taste overlap but the only other thing I know about her is that she works a blue collar job while I am a white collar professional. I am unsure if it's worth pursuing further knowing that I would rather be with someone that has a similar lifestyle to me. How should I proceed?  

-Business Casual at the Skramz Gig.

Business Casual at the Skramz Gig,

I feel like the point of a crush (opposed to having actual feelings for someone) is to know someone better. It straddles the line between romantic interest and want of general companionship. Our human want is to interact with other humans, and arguably, become more human in the process. Even if she doesn’t check the boxes to your “goals”, there’s a wealth of opportunity there to get to know someone possibly rad. 

Go for it! Skramz is a good starting point. You can’t be an NPC forever. I wish you good luck!

Dianacrawls - Rollercoasting Simulation

Senza - Sentience

Portrayal of Guilt - Among Friends

Shin Guard - Cross Country

Dear Twinkledad,

ask the emo bands how to get gamer girls to step on my face

Anonymous.

Anonymous,

this question makes everything your fault.

Wellspring - Quiver

ORTHODOXXER - IBLOCKEDHIMFROMMYFINSTAINAFITOFRAGE (TIK TOK ANTHEM)

oswald;octopus - montreal is where guys wear nail polish but not condoms (never meant pt. 2 i’m going to beat the fucking shit out of mike kinsella)

SCRAWLERS - 7/11

POSED OUT - THRASHACHUSETTS

friends from home - casket made of stone

god bless gilgamesh - i look for feathers in the rains from heaven, i find mostly piss

Clairo - Bags

[jennifersylvesters]

how to trick someone into loving you ( part two - the beginning )

Synopsis: You would’ve been content with never interacting with Tom Holland. With his loud personality and questionable behavior, you planned on avoiding the dumb jock for all of your university days. But when he proposes a way for both of you to get what you want, how can you say no? Pairing: uni!Tom Holland x reader Word Count: 3.3k~ Warning: none?? A/N: time to dive into more dumb shenanigans. this picks off right where part one left off. still don’t have photoshop on this new laptop, so the header’s the same lmao. like y’all already know, feedback is always appreciated/welcome ~ 

“So you ready to start?”

There was an eagerness in Tom’s face as he expectantly grinned at you. As much as you appreciated the enthusiasm, you weren’t about to drop your plans to begin teaching him. You had other work that needed to get finished, and you couldn’t just focus on an acquaintance when you had other priorities. Or, well, in this case he was a new partner. Could you even call him that yet?

“Uh, no.” You told him that you still had to get coffee, trying to adjust to the day. After all, he caught you at the moment you were running errands.

He let out an “ah” before nodding his head understandingly. So when you began walking, you weren’t expecting him to follow. You definitely weren’t expecting him to talk to you about his future plans.

“You don’t have to follow me” you pointed out, hoping he would take the hint.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Apparently not.

So you were subjected to Tom’s ramblings, only half listening as he spoke about his grand schemes. He blathered incessantly, excited about potentially doing well in a course but more excited to help you.

Even though tuned him out as best as possible, you couldn’t ignore him pointing out your terrible flirting skills. It took all your restraint not to toss the coffee in his face and quit the agreement. You’d do fine without dating; Tom would not do alright with a failing grade.

But you didn’t want to back out on the potential hope just yet. After all, it hadn’t even been a full day; backing out so quickly would be quite sad. Things were bound to get better with him, right?

Still his ramblings drove you up the wall. In order to have him leave you alone, you suggested swapping numbers and discussing these schemes more in depth later. He agreed, calling your idea brilliant. Safe for now.

Or so you thought. It turned out that Tom loved texting and made it abundantly clear by messaging you constantly. You didn’t use your phone that often, so the bombardment of texts were overwhelming to say the least. He texted you about everything, even things that weren’t related to your plans.

tom: are you going to josh wagner’s party tonight? No. You weren’t friends with that jock.  tom: did you do the ethics homework? Obviously.  tom: if you did, will you let me copy your answer? Absolutely not. tom: do you think that fish in those restaurant tanks know they’re gonna be eaten? You had no idea. This wasn’t what kept you up at night. tom: have you done the bird box challenge? haz says only idiots do that but i think it’d be fun to do it. so if you’ve done it then i think it’s okay if i do it. That’s not how life works, Tom.

He exhausted you when he wasn’t even physically around that it almost made you block him. When you finalized plans about your study sessions happening the next week, Tom seemed to calm his excessive texting. He was now aware that the two of you needed to get down to business.

True to his word, he brought you an apple that Tuesday afternoon, boasting about how only the best students did such a feat. You tossed it in your backpack, more concerned about getting the study portion done.

The two of you met at the library on the third floor. It was the quietest place in the building, a perfect place for the two of you to study. Rarely did anyone frequent that section so you assumed there wouldn’t be any hindrances. Boy were you wrong.

Despite starting off with high energy, Tom got easily distracted. When you would explain a certain concept, his eyes would wander around to anywhere but the information on the page. He would glance out the window where students ambled about, visibly wishing to be in their shoes instead of stuck inside. Tom’s eyes would glaze out when you repeated yourself that you needed to snap for him to pay attention once more.

You reminded him to focus, tapping the page with your pen. You could only hold his concentration for so long before he would distract himself with something, anything else but learning.

At one point he began dozing off as you rattled through key points that would most likely be on the next quiz. When you looked up, it took you a second to realize what you were currently witnessing.

“A-Are you sleeping right now?” you questioned, confused if he really was sleeping or if that was his studying face.

“Ethics” he murmured out, obviously in a daze. He clearly hoped that if you asked anything, that would be the right answer.

“Oh. My. God” you gritted through your teeth. You slammed the book shut, causing him to jump.

You began packing your bags, over this whole thing. If he didn’t care, why should you?

“I’m sorry!” he apologized repeatedly, wanting to stop you from packing but knowing not to touch you in your heated mood.

“Look-” you huffed, stopping and turning towards him. “If this is gonna work, you have to care. It’s gotta be just as important as basketball.” He made a face clearly indicating that nothing could ever beat his favorite sport. You scowled as you tossed your book into your backpack.

“Stop! Wait!” he pleaded as he took hold of the last book you needed to pack. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just...It’s so boring!”

You eyed your book in his hand, wondering if he would let it go if you yanked it from him. It was a paperback, and you worried that he might hold onto it tightly. If that ripped, you were out fifty dollars. So you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Listen, this is gonna sound harsh. But just drop the class. Obviously you don’t care about it so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” you advised him.

“No, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.” His grip tightened on your book, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?” He looked so frustrated, slumping in his chair. You could hear him muttering under his breath how you would never understand. Maybe you couldn’t. It always felt that with enough focus and determination you could accomplish anything. The same couldn’t be said for him.

Taking a seat back down, you watched him carefully. This wasn’t the normal overly confident Tom you were used to seeing. This wasn’t the carefree charmer that irked you constantly. It was an unsure boy who struggled to concentrate and understand difficult material.

“Look, you don’t waste any time on the floor during your games, right?” you asked him softly. He responded with a small nod. “Okay. Well then think about studying like that.” He didn’t look up, but you knew he was listening. “You have to give it your all when you’re here with me. You only have a certain amount of time to get everything done, and you can’t waste it spacing out. Every second counts, Tom. If you waste it, you don’t get that time back.” He nodded again, this time finally looking up at you.

“That was a cool reference.”

You shrugged, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. But you wondered if that’s all you needed to do to get into this kid’s head.

Despite not knowing much about basketball, you attempted for the remaining time to break down theories and founders that he might understand.

“So Plato’s kinda like Kobe?” he suggested. You didn’t know, but he seemed excited about the possibility. So you shrugged your shoulders and said sure.

“Ko-be!” he hollered, cupping his mouth to project his call throughout the library. You slapped your hand over his mouth, hoping that no one would shush the two of you or kick you out.

“You can’t yell in a library” you hissed.

“Oh, right” he replied muffled through your hand.

It wasn’t a great session, but as you explained things to him he actually paid attention. You watched as he took notes, sometimes tapping his notebook indicating for him to highlight key points. It was interesting watching him concentrate, trying his best to understand the material.

By the time the two hours you set up were over, you were mildly impressed. You weren’t sure if he would retain the information, but at least he was trying.

Both of you packed up your bags and headed out of the library. As he pushed open the door -  letting you exit first before letting it close on its own - you stopped at the entrance. You told him how he was making good progress and he beamed.  

“Well, see you on Thursday then.” You fixed your backpack strap on your shoulder before shoving your hands into your pockets.

“See you tomorrow!” he called out, waving at you as he headed off. You stared at him curiously, unsure if he understood how time worked. There were only two scheduled study sessions: one on Tuesday and the other on Thursday. Did he forget that the next day would be Wednesday? You sighed, assuming his spaciness got the best of him.

Except when you returned to your dorm after classes the next day, Tom was leaning on your dorm room door. He texted as he hummed to himself, tapping his foot to a certain rhythm. Hearing your footsteps, his head popped up from his phone and he smiled wide.

“Oh, good! You’re here!” he chirped as he tucked his phone away. “You ready?”

“We-We’re not studying today?”

He chuckled, tossing an arm over your shoulder. “‘Course we are” he insisted. “We’re studying Luke.”

You didn’t like the way he phrased that, shrugging his arm off you. When you questioned what he meant, he just rolled his eyes and informed you to follow him.

The two of you headed to the quad, spotting Luke sitting at one of the tables by himself. Once Tom spotted him, he pulled you behind some bushes and peered over the hedges.

“This is sketchy” you pointed out. Rather than debate you on this, he just shushed you and waved you to do the same.

“Okay, what do you see?” Tom asked. You looked at him suspiciously, unsure of where he was going with this. “Don’t look at me. Look at him. Tell me what you see.” It was rare for Tom to be this serious, instructing you to focus. Turning back to Luke, you squinted looking for certain details.

“Well, he’s wearing that greyish blue shirt that really brings out his eyes” you commented, unaware that you were slipping into a dreamy daze. “He didn’t gel his hair today which is surprising because he almost always-”

Tom slapped his forehead listening to you ramble off superficial details about your crush.

“No, Supposedly Smarty-Pants” he shook his head. “I’m talking about what you actually see. What is Luke doing?”

“He’s drinking coffee?” you suggested. Was Tom seeing something you weren’t?

“Yes, but you’re not…” he paused to rub his temples, irritation building up in him. “Y/N, you’re not actually paying attention.”

“What am I supposed to be seeing then?” you snapped, hands resting on your waist.

“Can you tell me what brand of coffee he’s drinking?” You shrugged. “Can you tell me what he’s writing?” Another shrug. Tom shook his head once more, sighing exasperatedly. You weren’t sure where he got the nerve to act so high and mighty, and you were one step away from smacking the daylights out of him.  

“Y/N, you have to pay attention.” That was rich coming from him. “Luke isn’t drinking Starbucks” he stated as if this was a monumental game changer.

“So?”

“So that means that he’s not into the generical crap.” You chose not to correct him, letting him continue. “The Starbucks on our campus is literally down two dorm buildings from here, but Luke decided to go to The Java Lava. That means the dude decided he’d rather go to some local joint off campus with better tasting drip than the more convenient places.

“And he’s not just writing, Y/N. He’s like, focus writing.” You raised an eyebrow, confused by what he meant. Tom rolled his eyes, persisting in his spiel. “That means whatever he’s writing is probably something important.

“This could go one of two ways, Y/N. Either he’s just happening to work hard on something he really likes or he’s working hard on something that’s boring as hell and doesn’t wanna do.”

Tom turns back to the sandy blond, still scribbling in his notebook furiously. “From the looks of things, it’s choice number two” he surmised.

You couldn’t help but gaze in astonishment at Tom. For someone who had idiotic tendencies, he was a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. He pinpointed certain details about Luke you never would’ve noticed.

Maybe Tom didn’t realize it himself, but his observation skills were amazing. You assumed that’s how he got those girls into bed, picking out specific details to make them feel special and important. You wondered if there was a way to get him to apply it with studying.

“So now’s the perfect opportunity to strike. Let’s go say hi” he announced as he stood up, confident smile gleaming.

“Wait, what?”

There was no time to argue because the next thing you knew, Tom grabbed your wrist and yanked you towards your crush. You were freaking out, trying to figure out how to simultaneously murder Tom while also not doing it where Luke could see. Despite repeatedly sputtering “no”s and “bad idea”s, Tom was stronger and didn’t care about your terrified protests.

“You have to practice” he stressed, yanking your arm as your dug your heels into the ground.

“Oh, hey!” Tom called out casually as he paused in front of the blond. Luke looked up, hair messily covering his eyes. It was such a good look that you wished you could take a photo. “You’re uh-” he paused, snapping his fingers as if he was trying to remember.

“It’s Luke” the other boy replied, smiling politely.

“Right! God, I am so sorry about that. My bad, dude” Tom apologized, shaking his head. “We actually went to Kyle Donahue’s cabin winter break. I mean, there were a lot of people there but I’m pretty sure we met.”

“Did we?”

“Yeah, played beer pong against you and Mitchell Wissou. Crushed you guys” Tom laughed. Luke rolled his eyes playfully, clearly finding this all in good jest.

“So what’s up, man? Can’t be as bad as Lennon when he slipped and fell on the slope” Tom slid into one of the opening seats. Luke reminisced about that winter break, joking with Tom about someone getting slushied while you stood stiffly watching their conversation.

Tom was waiting for you to take a seat, but you were frozen in your spot. Even with mild irritation in his eyes, he forced a smile onto his face. “Hey, have you met Y/N?” He gestured with his head for you to take a seat.

You waved your hand, indicating you were fine to stand.

“Oh, yeah. I think I’ve seen you around” Luke recalled. Either he genuinely didn’t remember your fall, or he was being polite. It didn’t matter; you were just grateful he didn’t bring it up. “You can take a seat” he offered. So you pulled the chair out and sat down, legs pressed together tightly with your hands on your knees. Your tension was obvious, but Tom was determined to make you look good.

“Y’know, Y/N’s been helping me with our ethics course. Guess she’s been so busy studying that she sometimes forgets to go out” he joked.

“Well, you guys are welcome to come to Devin McNamara’s party on Friday if you want. The more, the merrier” Luke suggested.

“We might swing by” Tom shrugged, nudging you with his knee underneath the table so Luke couldn’t see. Definitely progress.

Tom began making small talk with Luke, asking about certain details that you didn’t even know. Apparently Luke was an amazing snowboarder who had two dogs which he loved dearly. When he spoke about them fondly, Tom encouraged Luke to show you photos of them. You couldn’t help but awe looking at the cute golden retrievers.

It wasn’t just that Tom helped you figure out new facts about Luke, but he was actually bringing you into the discussion. He would slip you into the conversation at certain points, all somehow making it seem natural and effortless.

Before you knew it, you were finally relaxing and joining in on the conversation; it was as if you all were good friends.

You were caught off guard when Tom checked his phone and gasped. “Ah, shoot! I forgot I have class right now.” You stared at him quizzically. Why did he try to wingman for you when he had class around the same time?

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” He pushed out of his chair and waved, rushing off towards one of the lecture halls.

And then it was just you and Luke. The nerves were starting to come back again until you remembered what Tom went over with you earlier. You asked Luke what he was working on, both out of curiosity and to see if this would carry the conversation.

He sighed, telling you how he was taking a political science course which was absolutely killing him.

“Oh, I think I took that course last year” you noted, scooting over to look at his notes. Sure enough, you had taken that class and passed with flying colors. It had been difficult - not nearly as difficult as the ethics course - but you managed to figure it out. “I can help you if you want?” you nervously offered.

“Really? That’d be awesome of you!” he grinned. And for the first time, Luke was actually paying attention to you. The two of you spoke for a little longer just enjoying trivial discussions. He only stopped when his phone beeped.

Luke apologized, letting you know he needed to head off to class. Ripping out a piece of paper, he handed it to you along with a pen. “You mind giving me your number so I can text you about studying?” Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you scribbled your name and phone number for him.

Throwing his backpack over his back, he gave you a final wave before heading off. Giddiness filled your body, excited by the possibility of him texting you soon.

“See, I told you it would work!”

You yelped, jumping slightly upon hearing Tom’s voice. He slid into an empty seat looking at you excitedly.

“I thought you had class, Tom!” He burst into laughter.

“Nah, man. I just said that to give you one on one time with him.” This news startled you a bit. It turned out that Tom was more strategic and a better wingman than you ever could’ve imagined.

“You did such a good job!” he praised you, slapping his hand on your shoulder and lightly squeezing it in support.

“Thanks.” You couldn’t help but give a small grin. After all, none of this would’ve been possible without his expertise.

“Your welcome. I mean, you gotta work on loosening up. Cause you are like, super uptight and terrified and stuff. But this is a really good start!” You blushed, somewhat proud of the work you accomplished. “Starting to trust me now, right?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“Maybe a little bit, Holland.” You held up your fingers, showing how you only trusted him a smidge.

“I’ll take it. We gotta go back to your place to figure out what we’re gonna do for Devin’s party.”

So as Tom threw his arm over your shoulder, you let him as the two of you walked back to your dorm. Turns out Tom might be more useful than you originally presumed.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz | @almostrosadiazz, @tomshufflepuff | @acceptance07, @blurryshit, @hollands99, @josierosie, @littlestyles, @lumineshawn, @mystxrieux, @nedthegay, @popculturetrash15, @redheadedicequeen