#its not even a problem it’s just inconsistent >:((((((

[i-may-be-an-emu]

woe Cliff angst be upon ye

warning for distortion/glitching effects

Music credit: “Paralyzed” by NF

Video credit: shootimpro (“The Cardboard Stegosaurus” improvised play #16)

[sebek-zigbolt]

??? ok I love silver scolding sebek as much as the next guy but??? what did he even do wait dsyaugdagsydagsdsa i dont get it

[marinsawakening]

Unpopular opinion but I actually really like LOZ's approach to its lore and continuity. LOZ games take whatever elements from previous games they like, transform them to suit the needs of the current game, and discard the rest. I think this approach is perfect for a long-running series, because it makes the games to feel connected without being beholden to previously established lore and plot. Playing earlier games enriches the experience of playing later ones, but most entries are perfectly standalone and very much do not require you to have played earlier games, making the series easily accessible to newcomers yet rewarding for veterans.

This approach also allows the series to evolve without being held back by previously established canon, yet allows room for appreciation of earlier games. Ocarina of Time is clearly based on the backstory established in A Link to the Past, but it would not have been a better game if it'd faithfully adhered to it. Its willingness to contradict ALTTP canon by establishing the Kokiri, Zora (or rather changing them), Sheikah, Gorons and Gerudo enriches the world and story, and not killing off Link at the end to 'preserve continuity' was obviously far better than the alternative. Yet using the backstory of ALTTP as its base enriches OOT's story and gives added depth to both stories by allowing you to have more context for the ending of OOT and the story of ALTTP.

Whenever I see people talk about LOZ's continuity, it's near-exclusively to complain about how nonsensical it is. To each their own of course, but I strongly prefer a series that prioritizes the quality of its individual games over canon consistency. I think LOZ's approach to its canon, of allowing previous canon to affect and inspire new games while being perfectly willing to contradict it, has much more staying power than perfect canon consistency could ever allow. This doesn't mean I agree which what exactly each individual game decided to use, change or discard, but I believe overall that this approach makes the series better. The fact that LOZ games are next to impossible to place into a coherent timeline as a result is unimportant compared to the benefits.

[phagodyke]

kind of annoys me sometimes how I can happily listen to my roommate explain the entire plot of whatever she's currently into but when it comes to my interests she can only listen for a few mins before wordlessly walking out of the room

[autisticlee]

I need a friend (or maybe actually a life partner) thats super consistent/scheduled, not flaky, probably not disabled with unpredictable flare ups/energy issues, someone with energy who can plan and get stuff done. because I cannot do it myself. I need someone very close who is like this so they can help me do things I want or need to do. come over in the morning to exercise like go for a walk or swim or kayak. come over to help me make food when they realize I forgot to eat. come over and help me change my bed sheets. sit with me while I work on something and keep me focused or help me get done easier. plan a time to hang out or go somewhere and be here at that exact time instead of forgetting or canceling.

I NEED consistency in my life. I cannot provide it for myself. I know there's people out there who are like this. the autism in me craves it. but the adhd in me rejects it and always wins no matter how hard I try. having unpredictable physical flare ups doesn't help. trying doesn't do anything. people make it clear to me that it doesn't look like I try at all. that proves how useless trying has been. I need an external force that is beyond my control. alarms and reminders are in my control so they never work. I can't be consistent with myself and flake out on myself, beyond my control. but when it comes to other people, i'll push through and stick to things for their sake. I need a separate entity that has more control over the situation. someone to do with me and not just "remind" me. but also someone that won't push me too hard or let me push myself too hard. remind me to stop and drink/eat. don't let me push through pain. remind me it's ok to rest. etc.

but finding consistent people is so hard. I can't seem to do it. I only find and attract flaky, inconsistent people. I don't know what i'm supposed to do about it. they want me to be their consistent, nonflaky friend that they can flake out on. i'm told i'm always there for them whenever they need me, and they appreciate it. but I can never say the same about them.

no one wants to help me or "hold my hand" mostly because they can't even help themsleves and expect me to do everything for them, but also people who could help just dont like or care about me enough. i'm a burden to people who don't care or value me enough. I need someone to magically care so much about me that they enjoy being my solid pillar of consistency, support, and companionship. they wake up and WANT to see me immediately, so they come over and wake me up to make breakfast and go for a walk and do chores at their house together and etc.

you can't just wait and they will show up like a pokemon you can catch and turn into your loyal companion. you can't just make someone like you. but I don't know how to make anyone like me/find people who like me for who I am and don't have the energy and spoons endlessly sort through everyone in the world for the chance of finding one i also like and feel comfortable with. I need a person that either doesn't cost energy to interact with or somehow gives energy. that'd so hard to find.

I do try, though. but it takes at least a month or two to recover from the energy and effort it takes to reach out to a single person, especially since it's me doing most of the work. so the process is slow and is wasting my life away. I don't care about the possible "one day" because i'm struggling NOW. thinking about "one day" hasn't helped improve my life one but over the past 15 years or more, i've been told "one day"

it seems to be all about either luck or being privileged to have the energy and right personality to attract the right people. I have none of those things. so I just continue to struggle to exist within my own chaos alone. merely barely surviving and not at all living.

[neontetra]

ifeel like literally everything i am supposed to do to be a like. well adjusted human being is so so so exhausting? like i dont even mean a job or being "productive" or whatever.. socializing and hobbies often physically and mentally drain me so much and so fast and its really hard to keep up with things like that when having one (1) conversation or trying to do a cross stitch pattern for like half an hour makes me feel like i need at Least 2 weeks to rest and recover

[bijoumikhawal]

the problem with personally relating to a culture in a sci-fi series is people will say things slightly off color and I'll wanna gnaw on rocks about it

[calico-kiwi]

i hate periods 🔥 🔥 🔥 (<this is me trying to burn mine so it is gone forever)

[emeryleewho]

I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

[coremilk]

UNWANTED STANDPOINT

Before the TMA/TME dichotomy was put in those terms, people found issue with the fact that in order to discuss transmisogyny without talking over transfems they had to reveal some combination of their ASAB, gender or trans status in some way. TMA/TME is a gesture at a solution that allows people to locate themselves in relation to structural transmisogyny while revealing only the absolute minimum information required to do so. It is also a terminology that allows for discussing transmisogyny without making any extraneous assertions or assumptions pertaining to the subjects of discussion.

The fact that this is the most minimal possible terminology for discussing transmisogyny in terms of group relationships makes it seem like our last line of defense against saying "it's not a problem to speak over transfems" and that seems to be precisely what some people are aiming for: The accusation that we just want to dismiss the views of everyone who isn't transfem is made openly with the implication being that wanting to prioritize the perspectives of transfems in discussions about the oppression of transfems is indicative of something akin to transfem-supremacy.

I don't see what we can take away or add or change to address the criticisms made of TMA/TME to the satisfaction of the critics. Informally we could just say transfem and non-transfem but by doing that we have to include all TMA people under the label "transfem". We are already constantly forced to do this for the sake of communication, but it is flattening the possibility space allotted to our identities considerably and it is misleading.

Would any of the criticisms actually be assuaged by us changing the terms to more closely reflect the literal meaning we intend? If we chose terms that precisely conveyed a meaning like "primary target of structural transmisogyny" and "not a primary target of structural transmisogyny" would anyone at all actually be satisfied? Or would the goalposts be moved once again?

I see questions like "Should we perhaps make a binary like this for other forms of oppression too? Should we say ableism-affected and ableism-exempt?" put forward as an argument against these terms and I just don't think this would be a big deal. The reason we don't usually need to do that is that it's generally understood how purposefully obfuscating your your own relationship to a form of oppression in controversial discussions of it is suspect. Have we abandoned standpoint epistemology altogether at this point, or is ours a special case?

We are told that we are creating a new binary by using TMA/TME terminology but that is presupposing that that this binary didn't already exist before we put it into language. The criticism simply assumes its desired conclusion. It makes the brute assertion that TMA people aren't affected by transmisogyny qualitatively differently from TME people to being with (and we're not allowed to litigate this assertion). It denies outright that transmisogyny is what we mean by it and tells us that we shouldn't mean by transmisogyny what we do mean by it. We are told that we are reinforcing or even creating the arbitrary, inconsistent, socially constructed systems on the basis of which we are oppressed by acknowledging the arbitrary, inconsistent, socially constructed systems on the basis of which we are oppressed in our analysis.

"You just want to know what's in people's pants" I do not, and you know it. "You just want to know people's ASAB" I do not, and you know it. Keep your words out of my mouth. What I want is for people to not try to pull the wool over our eyes and stealthily define transmisogyny out of existence by, without acknowledging it, introducing the non-existence of transmisogyny as a settled matter in the premises on the basis of which they criticize our terminology.

If transfems attempting to insist on their ability to not be talked over about their own oppression seems to you like they are engaging in the epistemic marginalization of everyone else then you are a transmiosgynist and deserve to be identified as such. It is because of our epistemic marginalization even in LGBT and trans spaces that we need terms like these. Stripping us of the tools to even attempt to counterbalance our epistemic marginalization by acknowledging it will simply allow for our epistemic marginalization to go unacknowledged once again, to let others speak for us and over us, to re-enshrine the absolute moral right to never have to listen to us.

[713-4th-ward-g]

.

[jackass-jones]

I’m getting kinda feral about Ryuki today so I wanna bring up something else

Since the entire Ryuki side of the story is pretty much just everything he tells Mizuki about what happened 6 years ago, this begs the question: is his summary including the parts that are from the future, or is this just a writing error?

It’d make sense if it was just an error like. First off if Ryuki could see the future that’d be a whole mess, plus the future he’s seeing here isn’t even in the right timeline, it’s all what happens on the B side. Plus, the whole twist of not knowing what the proper timeline is is already a pretty iffy twist because it’s only a twist to the player, not to the characters. Since it’s kinda flimsy to begin with, I can see how the writers could’ve just completely fucking forgotten to fix the Ryuki side to make sense with this twist. They kinda forgot about Ryuki a lot in the second half of the game after all and a lot of the writing around him is messy as hell so I can believe it

But, let’s pretend this all WAS intentional, that Ryuki DID include information about the future in his story to Mizuki. This would go perfectly with the idea that Ryuki is a frayer and that he’s being haunted by knowledge from the past and future and is incapable of distinguishing the two. It’s already true that Ryuki has trouble telling what year it is (during the practice launch on the Mizuki side we see Ryuki in a trance waiting for Shoma to get off the ferris wheel even though that’s an event that happened 6 years ago, Ryuki makes constant references to Date being disappointed in him,etc) so it’d make sense if he got his wires majorly crossed when telling Mizuki what he remembers about the case from 6 years ago. If this is the case, then Ryuki’s powers can extend across not just past and future, but also multiple timelines

It’s not like Ryuki is the only one with this power. Date remembers when he was hospitalized in the Mizuki route during the true ending and gets confused about why he’s remembering things that never happened. Mizuki is able to remember Jin being referred to as the almighty despite her not hearing about it in that timeline. But it is interesting that Ryuki is the only one who seems to be plagued by his knowledge. The other two protagonists will be just kinda weirded out by their ability to know things that didn’t happen, but they recover pretty quickly. Ryuki though, he doesn’t know what timeline he’s in and he’s constantly speaking and thinking in riddles and drowning himself in liquor to forget everything and is only able to function in the A side BECAUSE the somnium failed and he wasn’t able to remember tearer’s true identity

Basically Ryuki cursed with evil timeline powers and it makes me wonder if he’s an unreliable narrator on purpose or on accident and honestly, I don’t know if I wanna know

Had an epiphany last night and I haven’t seen anyone talk about this (maybe because it could be just so obvious no one felt the need to but shhh) but look here at the veeeery beginning of the aini flowchart

We got the Ryuki somnium as the first split and as we know, this split happens based on whether or not you (or ryuki in this case) know the name of Tearer. You can only get the Mizuki side of the story if you have played the Ryuki side and have heard Tearer’s name. The somnium will also be much more complex and dangerous

So essentially on the B side, the psync is unsuccessful. Mizuki doesn’t really help Ryuki, and she barely learns anything about the hb case. Ryuki is left in the same mentally unstable state he was before, and he can’t hold a conversation without babbling and laughing maniacally. This leaves Mizuki to do her investigation without any of the past help at all, which is how the true route of the story is supposed to go

This isn’t anything new, we know this. What I do wanna revisit is the A side, where Ryuki doesn’t remember Tearer. The psync is actually successful and the results are significantly different than the B side. Ryuki sobers up and is able to tell Mizuki everything that happened to him 6 years ago. So basically the Ryuki route (the parts from 6 years ago) is everything that he’s telling to Mizuki

This means that there’s a whole separate version of the story in this timeline where Mizuki learns everything about the past, including what happened to Date. And what’s getting me feral about this is. How did the investigation proceed afterwards??? Did the two of them work together to finish the case? Did Mizuki get a chance to mourn Date? Did she lash out at Ryuki? Did Ryuki even mention his involvement with Tearer or Bibi’s existence at all? How would everything had changed if they worked together?

IM GOING INSANE I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE A SIDE TIMELINE DAMMIT-

[onismdaydream]

can't think of anything other than toji with his big and strong arms..

the quirk of his lips, his scar pulling up into a devious grin as he realizes what you're doing, lazy eyes focusing on your thighs pressing against his bicep.

"needy little thing, aren't ya?" it's all bark, no bite — he loves seeing you desperate like this. always wanting, wanting, wanting. you make a soft whining noise at his words, the drag of your panties catching your clit and the hungry look in his gaze drives you to rock your hips faster. your underwear is quickly getting soaked with your slick and it doesn't help when toji flexes his arm underneath you.

it just feels so good.

you've always admired toji's physique — his broad chest and bulging muscles. they weren't just for show, either. yes, his body was easy on the eyes and you still feel your skin heat up when he wears those impossibly tight shirts, but he was strong as hell, too. he could throw you around effortlessly, though he much preferred to hold you against a wall to fuck you senseless. even when your body became limp and your limbs turned to goo from pleasure, he had no problem lifting you in his arms.

and to feel those same muscles against your pussy? it is amazing.

"makin' such a mess, doll." your eyes flutter shut when he flexes again, the firm muscle making a perfect surface for you to rub yourself on. its sloppy, both your movements and the arousal that now coats his upper arm. "feels good, huh?"

you can't respond even if you want to. your tongue resting heavy in your mouth as you pant and groan at the growing sensation in your stomach. every roll of your hips bringing you closer and closer to the edge and making you feel almost dizzy with the desire of release.

toji watches you; every little expression and sound and movement, he commits to memory. you're like a fucking dream come true. there's the bit of doubt that he doesn't deserve you in the back of his mind, but it's quickly silenced when you whine his name.

"yeah, that's it, baby," his voice is husky, breathless almost and it goes straight to your clit. "ride my fucking arm."

it doesn't take long before you unravel above him, hips stuttering in their inconsistent pace and thighs shaking from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. toji allows you to gather yourself, even after the mix of your slick and cum begins to cool and become sticky on his skin.

after all, he's not done playing with you just yet.

[mourn-and-watch]

in all seriousness, dragon age being almost officially dead to me is, like, whatever. i'm used to hanging out in dead fandoms because i'm usually extremely late to the party so i think i'll manage. i was excited for veilguard but even if it was bad bad for me (which it wasn't. i have my problems with it but they didn't ruin the franchise for me) i would also manage because dragon age to me always was extremely flawed but had an enormous potential for fan content. at some point i started to treat it like my favourite fantasy playground where i can smash pre-existing barbie dolls with the ones i made myself. all my barbie dolls are in place and i still can do whatever i want (and i plan to continue to do so) and, i guess, i shouldn't be upset.

i am upset, however. for all the devs affected by laid-offs, but especially the writers. these people created dragon age as we know it, and it's been a messy series in every aspect, including the writing, it's been insensitive at times, at times dumb and undercooked, but there was always an immense amount of potential that's been inspiring fans for years, and also a feeling that all, or at least the most of it was created with genuine passion. and realizing that there is no one left from the team that made dragon age what it is, every installment of it, is just. genuinely sad. and it's not a theseus ship dilemma, because it's not like they were slowly replaced one by one. they were just fired. this ship is destined to sink, it's falling apart in front of our eyes because neither ea nor bioware cares about writing. not many companies do nowadays, to be honest. and it's kinda devastating. grifters will celebrate that like a "downfall of woke slop", but they'll get only more ai slop instead, lol, because good writing doesn't guarantee good sells. best selling games of 2024 are shooters and sports games. and elden ring which is a nice exception, but an exception nevertheless.

i don't think mass effect will save bioware at this point. even if it's an absolute banger it still has to meet ea's expectations. which are unrealistic, to say the least. also people who wrote characters like mordin, tali, legion, thane, garrus and liara are all gone. either they left themselves or were laid off. like, if you want "old bioware magic" to return, there is none. the same people who wrote your favourite characters and storylines in da/me were also working on veilguard. i may be wrong, but somehow i think they didn't all lose their ability to write here because they went woke or whatever. i think the inconsistent quality of datv writing that can only be described as 'we're so back/it's so over' pic is a consequence of multiple rewrites, constant director changes and shitty decisions, both internal and coming from bioware/ea higher-ups. i also may be wrong, but it wouldn't be such a big problem if writing wasn't at the bottom of priority list.

if i recall correctly, when gaider left willingly, he highlighted that bioware didn't treat its writers seriously at that point. and i'd say that tracks. like, from countless veilguard rewrites and scrapped ideas to lay-offs of every single studio veteran.

idk what else there is to say. i'll cheer for every studio that value its writers and i hope all ex-bioware devs will be able to do something new and exciting. i also doubt bioware is the last studio that will experience such a decline in the years to come. the narrative of this shitshow will also be twisted into 'go woke go broke' and it already slightly draws me insane. fuck ea fuck bioware fuck grifters. also i beg everyone to start appreciating writing as a craft because otherwise it's only going to get worse!

[sugurusfavemonkey]

HIGH ACHIEVER - ONE: HOW TO BE A TEAM PLAYER

summary: You've always prided yourself on your grades but when Suguru enters the scene, competing for the top spot in your major becomes more than just a matter of honor. What happens when you're forced to work together on a long project (and so what if he happens to be just your type)? pairing: Geto Suguru x reader word count: 2k content: college AU; academic rivals to lovers; short series; mutual hatred attraction; afab!reader; angst/comfort; reader is described as being shorter than Suguru (but then again, the man is about 6'3' so who isn't?); smut (in future chapters - MDNI) ♪playlist♪ +more Jujutsu Tech College AU

Suguru Geto was the very apex of campus. 

Not only was he a big name in the basketball courts, but Geto was also the most skillful martial artist and exceeded in every single class he took, being among the top students in the academy. He was cocky but never unkind. In fact, Geto's amiability was a matter of admiration throughout the grounds. As if that hadn't been enough, he was beautiful. With his tall frame, broad shoulders, silky black hair, perfect complexion, kind caramel eyes, nihilistic smile… He was also the utter and absolute bane of your existence. 

It seemed to give him the utmost joy to counter every single point you brought up in the classes you shared or to find and point out inconsistencies in your arguments. In other words: he lived to antagonize you.

You didn't even care about being valedictorian; it was nothing but a title - who were you kidding? Gojo would be getting that anyway, the boy simply didn't know how to lose. Not even Geto could surpass his GPA and ranking position combined - but you did pride yourself on your grades and learning. It's why you even attended college to begin with: it's the goal, isn't it?

The problem began when Suguru decided to make it his business always to show you up. If you were happy about your 98% on a test, he just had to point out his 99. If you accurately responded to a question made by the professor, he felt obligated to mention details you had "seemingly forgotten".

It was frankly maddening.

"Sometimes the best solutions come from intuition and an understanding of the specific circumstances of the case - it requires flexibility." you spoke when asked about evidence-based practices in class. Mr. Yaga nodded complacently and took a breath as if preparing to launch into another rhetoric when there was a loud sneer.

You knew that sound well enough it immediately caused your spine to stiffen. You didn't even have to turn on your seat to find its source.

"Anything you'd like to share, Mr. Geto?" the professor promptly asked, arms crossing in front of his chest as one of his dark eyebrows shot up above the black sunglasses that were usually covering his stern eyes.

Of course he had. Geto always had. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating his antithesis. Countering your arguments were his favorite pastime after all.

"Yes, actually," you felt his eyes burning on the back of your head, but you refused to turn and give him the satisfaction. "Relying on gut feeling when people’s lives and well-being are at stake is… precarious. Evidence-based practice relies on proven methods, which is exactly what we need: tested and effective approaches." You could almost hear the arrogant smugness in the tone of his voice and your anger bubbled over to the point of spilling.

"So you'd prefer to overlook important nuances? People are individuals, not statistics. Using averages when each case is different is inadequate at best." You retorted as you twisted in your seat, your indignant eyes meeting his cool ones.

"Mrs-" The professor tried to stop the argument before it picked up, but it was already too late the moment you decided to counter Geto. He knew exactly what the result usually was. Every member of the docent body was aware of the rivalry between you.

"All that sounds lovely, very idyllic. But we should remain grounded in measurable outcomes, not guesswork, sweetheart." Geto spoke in his usual smooth cadency, but the disdainful undertone was not lost on you. He had this complacent closed-lip smile that grated your nerves on.

You scoffed at the belittling term of endearment he used, "A more creative, personalized approach builds trust and leads to success."

"And how do you plan to measure this success?"

"Success cannot be measured by research."

"And you suggest not relying on research? That is irresponsible."

"That is not what I-"

"Enough!" Mr. Yaga bellowed, clearly having had enough of the back and forth between the two of you. You clamped your mouth shut, embarrassment making your skin warm. "As much as all of your points are valid and very pertinent to our subject matter, you're letting your nerves get the best of you. I wish to continue my lecture now though." He paused gaze moving from you to Geto, "unless that would inconvenience either of you, of course."

You let your body slide down on your chair so as to avoid the attention still feeling Geto's gaze lingering on you. You hated that you let yourself be moved by his obvious bait, that you coulddn't help but rise to the occasion whenever he so much as breathed in your general vicinity. You wished you could say you had better self-control but you simply did not. It's a pain and a chore really.

The lecture picked back up after your humiliating schtick without further incidents… mostly because you decided not to chime in anymore. And, of course, without you to counterattack, Geto felt it would be pointless to partake in the discussion. Asshole.

You sighed in relief when the professor dismissed the class, quickly throwing your laptop and water bottle inside your bag and making a beeline to the door when he called your name followed by Geto's.

"I'd like to speak to both of you for a moment."

"I have to get to my next class-" you started to protest, hands tightening on the strap of your bag when he interrupted you:

"It'll only take a minute, Mrs."

You sighed and timidly moved closer to his desk, fingers still fidgeting. You could feel Geto's presence right beside you, but refused to even glance his way.

"This feuding between you is getting out of hand. I'd like to ask you to take it easy on the altercations from now on. You both make valid points most of the time, you should learn to compromise every now and then. Being this intransigent will get you nowhere in life." Mr. Yaga glare had you cowering slightly, shoulders hunching in. "You two are my best students in this subject so I decided to pair you up for a special semester-long project. That should teach you a little bit about accommodating the other's needs."

"What?!" you nearly choked on your spit.

"I want you to write a paper evaluating the impact of local outreach programs. It'll be worth 25% of your final grades. I'll email you the details. You're dismissed."

"Profes-" once more you tried to object but Yaga gave you no chance to even finish your thought:

"I said you're dismissed." He stood his ground, not bothering to even look at you as he started stacking the papers on his desk.

You huffed in annoyance and marched out of the auditorium. You heard Geto's steps and tried to walk ahead of him, avoiding the consequential conversation after receiving such horrid news but he easily caught up to you with his stupid long legs.

"Give me your phone." his velvety voice demanded. You stopped in the middle of the corridor and he did the same, turning his body to you, proudly crowding in on you and towering over your form, mindless of the other people walking past form both directions.

"What? No," you scoffed indignantly. Geto sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly regretting this exchange as much as you.

"I'm just gonna add my number to your contacts. As much as I'm dreading this, it is not the kind of project we can just work on separately and then put it all together. It should be seamless."

That made you pause. You really couldn't argue with that sentiment. Still, you were so used to it that you couldn't help but affronting Geto: "Huh. I didn't think you had it in you to be reasonable."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." He deadpanned. You did hand over your phone after unlocking it and opening the contact info page after a second of hesitation when you found no hidden agenda behind his demeanor.

"Just type in your number so we can get this over with. I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. My daily quota of you is already blown over." You said as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Your words had the opposite of the expected reaction though as you saw the moment his smile turned predatory. You steeled yourself for his upcoming retort but none came.

Your eyes instantaneously flitted to the strand of hair that fell off his half-up hairdo and covered his left eye as he lowered his head to type on your phone. You hated that if anyone ever critiqued a man bun that's because they had never seen Suguru Geto's. That man sure knew how to pull off one of the most controversial hairstyles to ever exist. You couldn't imagine there was something he wouldn't be able to pull off, to be honest… what a shame he had to be an insufferable asshole.

"That implies you need at least a small amount of me in your day." you were so enraptured in your analysis of his hair that you almost missed his jab.

"No, I-" you scowled in disgust, nearly ripping the unoffending device from his offering hand once he turned it back your way. "In your dreams, Geto."

He only hummed in response, that stupid smirk on his face. Again.

"Fuck you, Geto," you threw over your shoulder as you turned on your heel, not wasting any more time before heading for your next class.

"I'll text you, sweetheart!" He called after you, the sound of his laughter following.

You ground your teeth together in anger, your face feeling uncharacteristically warm. You only let yourself check your phone after you turned a corner so you were absolutely certain you were no longer in his field of vision. You stared in perplexity at the name he saved his number under.

"I can't believe this pretentious douchebag had the audacity… most brilliant colleague my ass!"

You were switching up his name in your contacts to 'arrogant prick n2' instead when you heard your friend's voice calling you over.

"Where were you? The class starts in less than a minute and you know how Gakuganji gets with laggers," her short dyed blonde hair swayed as she glanced from your approaching form to the open double doors to the lecture hall by her right.

You rushed towards Akari with a quick apology and a "what are you doing out here then?"

"It's not as if his lectures are ever full." She shrugged easily flitting her arm to yours so you could enter together.

"Noted."

The two of you easily found and occupied a couple of seats by the back right before Gakuganji launched into a dull monologue on the psychological effects of music on the brain, which could have been an interesting subject if it wasn't taught by someone closer to a mummy than a human with the most boring cadency to his voice.

"Did Yaga hold over the class?" Akari mumbled the question as she set up her laptop.

"Held me over, you mean," you murmured back. You felt her questioning gaze settle on you, so you decided to further explain, "he wants me to work on some big project about local outreach programs."

"That sounds like a lot of work, why only you?"

"Not only me. Something about learning to concede or some shit like that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, apparently I have been too intransigent with Geto and now we gotta learn to work together."

She let out a loud sound, a mix between laughter and a snort which immediately had Gakuganji dark eyes turning your way.

"Sorry!" Akari winced, "I, uhn, chocked.

The professor huffed and you waited for some sort of reprimand, but he only got right back into his spiel.

"You're joking? You mean to say you have to work with Suguru Geto?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, say goodbye to Jujutsu Tech, because the two of you are about to wreck this whole school."

She wasn't wrong.

next >>

Jujutsu Tech College AU taglist: @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Pounding

Summary: Reader has a migraine, and Spencer wants to help.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.2k

The transition of seasons is something that has to be endured. It’s the time when you wake up to frost on your windshield in the morning but must remove your coat by the time you leave work. It is a painful time of inconsistency, especially for your sinuses. Not only with the pollen in the air (as well as on your car at all times) but the dryness as well. It causes your headaches to go from sometimes once a month to now twice a week.

And the first one happens this week, today. The migraine descended on you like a storm, brewing from your nasal cavities, its relentless waves of pain crashing against the shores of your temples. With each throb, the world around you seemed to blur and spin.

You shut the door to your apartment and let your bag fall from your shoulder, with no care with where it lands. Light, food, the smell of home is all too much to bear. With a sigh, you shuffle to the sanctuary of your room and bask in the silence while you can still control it. You unleash yourself from your business casual attire and fall into bed, nestling yourself under the covers.

The darkness relieves pressure, only slightly. It will probably be hours before it has settled, so you think it is best to call it a night now at 5:56 in the evening. There was no point in doing anything else as streetlights alone from the windows have proven to be enough to make the back of your eyes ache. You remained still, motionless, unmoved. Minutes could stretch well into hours without your knowledge.

Until the sound of the front door opened, cutting through the quiet. Spencer was home, which means it’s 6:06 now. The creaking floors from his aged apartment tell you he goes to the kitchen first, the sink runs, then his steps only grow closer to you until you can feel his presence at your back. “Migraine?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

It drains all energy and motivation out of you, so you merely nod in response. He’s more than familiar with severe head pain; chronic migraines that were resolved with a vitamin regimen. Fortunately, he has yet to complain about them bothering you in the year you’ve been together. And he never leaves home without them.

Unfortunately, this makes him eager to figure out your head pains. Last spring, he left out an array of vitamins in a pill organizer. They didn’t. It wasn’t an issue at first. It was clear he was trying to help. The downside of your boyfriend being a child prodigy and objective genius is that he will never back down from a challenge, even when you have asked him to. He can’t do it. Later in the month, he came home one day with an array of tea brands, mostly ginger and peppermint. He’s bought humidifiers, massaged the cartilage of your nose, and even consulted Reddit. It’s certainly worn down your patience, especially when you require complete silence.

“I can get you some hot compresses from the pharmacy if you want.” He jumps in completely. The last three words are merely to cushion the obvious; reiterating the point rather than saying something like, “I’ve had headaches before. I know how awful they are, so you should let me help you.” Which he’s also said.

You continue the annoying pattern by shaking your head with an audible moan. Opening your eyes hurts.

“What about nasal spray or decongestant? I can get those at the pharmacy as well.”

“I don’t need anything from the pharmacy. I took ibuprofen. Just need to keep my eyes closed.”

“Well, that can only help so much today. Saline will help encourage drainage and expansion in the vessels. Ibuprofen solves the head pain, not the root problem.”

“Unless the BAU can order planting fruit trees, it’s the best we can do.”

“What I’m trying to say is—”

You groan louder. “This isn’t a time for solutions, Spencer.”

Another unfortunate aspect of your relationship is that you can feel the way Spencer’s face softens from your tone. He then mutters out an apology, a brief sorry, but he doesn’t leave. He touches your shoulder and keeps his hand there until you turn to face him. And because you love him very much, you strain to open your eyes. You can make out a blur of his silhouette in the growing darkness, but still see clearly his glossy eyes and the quirk of his lips. “Can you do something for me first, though? Real quick?”

Before you answer, his hand slides toward your upper back, meaning you have to sit up for this. You were ready to say something along the line that he’s lucky you love him right now and leave it at that because thinking further made the pressure in your temples increase. 

You didn’t have to speak at all, though. Because Spencer is also holding a glass of water in front of you. You look up at Spencer’s puppy-eyed silhouette. “Not a solution,” he says softly. “It’s something you always need.”

Well, if that didn’t make you feel like an asshole. You accepted the glass without a word, feeling the coolness against your palm as you brought it to your lips. Each sip, at the very least, a distraction from the throbbing. Spencer watches you closely. You had no choice but to finish the whole glass. And you did, leaving Spencer satisfied enough as he took the glass and walked out.

You didn’t say a word. The sink ran again, and Spencer returned with another full glass. He doesn’t hand it to you, instead puts it on the nightstand before turning precariously on his heels. It takes you a second through half-closed eyes to realize he’s walking back out. You’re afraid to ask, wondering if you’ve made him too upset to talk. You push yourself and do so anyway, keeping your tone in mind. “Where are you going?”

Spencer turns on his heels once more, looking around momentarily like there were others in the room. He then looks at you. “I figured you wanted to be alone.”

You reach out, moving through the pain quite literally, and you catch the polyester of his cardigan just between your fingers and pull him closer until you can wrap your arms around him. You hold your breath, knowing the intense smell of his laundry detergent would be enough to collapse down to your pillow in further pain. His cardigan is soft against your face. “Do you have other stuff to do?”

He chuckles, his abdomen bounces. So, he’s not too mad. “I do not.”

Encouraged by his response, you tug him gently (and not so gracefully) into bed. He’s delightfully warm. Spencer kicks off his shoes in response before pulling you close. Then you bury your face into his chest, hesitant to breathe in the scent of cedar that clings to the cardigan. You try best to ignore it as you cocoon yourselves beneath the blankets, finding refuge in each other’s company amidst the inner turmoil that comes with spring. You listen to the steady rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat, and find a fleeting sense of peace in the storm.