#ts feels like reading a YouTube shorts comment

[truthinlifetarot]

Your Next Love Offer

How to Pick a Pile: Some of us focus on the image that seems to call to us most, some intuitively choose regardless of picture. Don't overthink it. Choose whichever pile you feel called to. It may even be more than one!

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Pile 1: You or this person could be a woman. This is someone you have manifested, pile 1! This person encompasses most of what you want in a partner. They could have manifested you and have gone through quite a lot in life to be ready for their ideal partner. You will be their ideal partner as well. They are in touch with their emotions and have a good balance of patience/action and masculine/feminine. This person will have a personality that gives you life.

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Pile 2: Heavy Piscean energy here, pile 2. This person is very intuitive, even if they sometimes choose to ignore their intuition. They may prefer doing things in a more masculine way. This person's offer will not be traditional for one or both of you. This union (or the thought of it) will be difficult for this person to grasp and a change of perspective is needed before they come forward.

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Pile 3: This person is very indecisive. When they come forward, it will be after a while of making sure they cross all their Ts and dot all their Is, but when they come in it is a sure thing. From your prospective, it will be like a wish come true, even if it's not as grandiose due to the length of time the connection took to start.

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[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

A Second Long Rant About The Koffin Trio

Note: I decided to write about these three again (mostly about the genocide route) because I didn't cover everything I wanted to in my previous take, and you guys seemed to like it (I'm glad you enjoyed it as well, @beethovenus!), so here we go. If you haven't already, please read my previous ts!us post, since this is an addition to that.

Let's just say that the writers really outdid themselves when it comes to the genocide route, especially in regards to Harry and Larry. Never before did a video game leave me feeling so emotionally broken. The battle between the Boogiemen and Chara proves that comedic relief characters CAN and SHOULD be put in serious situations. It gives them much-needed depth.

At the beginning, Harry and Larry didn't take Chara seriously and only managed to make it out of the encounter alive because Crossbones/Sans intervened (which just goes to show how reckless both of them are) they're like annoying but loveable little kids i swear

It's this trait of theirs that led them to their downfall later on. I guess you could say that their appearance was meant to 'lighten the mood' of the otherwise dark genocide route, but it only made things worse for them in the long run. I remember reading a comment on YouTube once, and it mentioned how the Boogiemen resemble horror movie characters who die first due to their carelessness. And aside from the fact that they were not the first monsters to get killed by Chara, I agree 100%

Neither one of them believed that a human was even in the Underground, let alone a serious threat... that is, until they tried picking on Chara ↓

...which obviously didn't end well ↓

When they realized that they really WERE in danger, both visibly began to panic; neither one of them even tried to pretend to be fearless ↓

I've got to say that I love the contradictory traits the Boogiemen share: fearless but fearful, fun-loving but seeking safety, reckless but cautious.

Imo, as much as they like to goof off, they want someplace to come back to even more. Koffin-K is the one who makes the keep a place where they feel like they belong; a place that gives them comfort. KK's presence is what reassures them that they're taken care of. He's the one who makes Koffin Keep home.

In the present moment, Harry and Larry can afford to act goofy and careless because they're convinced that, no matter what happens, Koffin will always be there to save them, provide for them, and keep them safe in general.

There's a difference between who Harry & Larry were before and after they got hired (they seemed to have become more mischevious, more open to goofing off, and even more ambitious and confident).

I find it interesting that both of them were anxious/sceptical about working for Koffin when he first met them:

The two weren't attached to Koffin-K at all at the time. They didn't become loyal right off the bat; It took them (a short) time to warm up to him. And now that they are attached, I'm pretty confident that they're never leaving his side

The thing about Harry is that he used to rely on this one low-wage job and probably thought: "If I take the risk and come to regret becoming this weird guy's lackey, or if he fires me, I might never be able to come back to my safe job again and I'll be left with nothing. I'm not even qualified for anything other than menial chores!" yeah I headcanon that both him and Larry dropped out of high school at like 16 and never went to college in the first place I'm also really curious if Harry used to be attached to his previous boss (who he never mentioned) like he is to Koffin-K now, but I doubt it since he DID accept Koffin's job offer the very next day.

And Larry didn't want to risk anything either, even though he pretty much had nothing to lose. Even if he used to have a job as a janitor (if this is the case, I imagine his thought process was the exact same as Harry's), he still lacked a home. It's depressing to think about how Larry apparently wanted to continue his poor-quality life because he didn't believe anything different or better was out there. Or, he had no idea what having a better life even felt like. Maybe he thought he'd be WORSE OFF as Koffin-K's employee and/or that he'd fire him at some point. I just made myself sad, I love these guys a lot and empathize so much I feel like both of them believe they're not good enough and it hurts

Anyway, back to the genocide route.

After they're rescued, Flowey says:

Already setting up the fact that they'll either be an easy and/or optional battle. Nice.

Then we see Harry and Larry straight up putting themselves in danger to please Koffin-K:

Like, guys, I'm sure he would have understood if you hadn't obeyed his order this time. but they CAN'T let him down; they refuse After all, a mass murderer was on the loose

And once again, we're given a choice whether or not to fight them:

And finally, if we follow them... we get to this scene.

Oh god. THIS scene. Where do I even start?

Alright, time for some retrospect.

So, the two dummies have no way to escape and are forced to fight (with their very last conversation being AN UNRESOLVED ARGUMENT), Larry is ruthlessly pushed off the cliff (is this why it's called the ruthless route? Because if so, it fits perfectly), Harry screams his name and falls to his knees, completely dejected, and doesn't even attempt to run or fight, waiting to join Larry in death.

This moment hurts. This text especially. "Quick on his feet" but not quick enough; Larry's name is no longer next to his

No matter how much they annoy each other, the care is clear as day. That's another reason why I think of them as brothers. Harry is pretty fearful, right? And yet he'd rather turn to dust than live a life without Larry.

Sometimes I wonder how the scene would have played out if Harry had been given given the choice to either flee, stay and fight, or let us finish him off.

Ok, the third option would remain unchangeable, and the second would definitely result in his death whether or not he put up a fight, but the first one...

**ANGST WARNING**

Koffin-K would find Harry in his and Larry's house, curled up on their (now only his) bunk bed, sobbing uncontrollably and blaming himself over and over again. Then he'd hold him and they'd cry together. Koffin would regret not being more transparent with his care for his henchmen, and now that he was only left with one, he'd swear to be the best boss and father he could be.

It would take a while, but eventually Harry would stop crying himself to sleep every night, he'd go back to his mischievous self, he'd pull pranks and laugh and have fun because that's what Larry would have wanted.

Koffin and Harry's relationship would strengthen over time (sooner rather than later) and they'd become a true family. But every day, for the rest of his life, Koffin-K would wish that he had told Larry how much he loved him before he died. Harry would wish that, too.

But there was no way to turn back the clock, and the only thing they could do was hope that, wherever Larry was, he'd somehow know.

...he did.

I don't even want to image what would have happend if the roles had been reversed. Let's just say that Larry would have been absolutely shattered if Harry had gotten pushed off a cliff/died first. Based on his reaction if you beat Harry up during their fight in the neutral route, I don't even think he'd ever be able to move on from the pain of losing his brother best friend (or it would be SUPER hard).

Speaking of these scenes, Harry's first reaction was to get furious, Larry's was to burst into tears. What they have in common though was that they showed care for each other sigh... image limit strikes again

Larry also picked up on the purity of Chara's soul (or lack thereof) and it triggered Chara

It reminds me of how Ceroba picked up on the number of monsters Clover had killed

Long story short, I love how both Harry and Larry have their own quirks and personality. They're not just interesting as a duo, but separately, too. It's sometimes hard to remind yourself how, just because two people are a team, that doesn't mean they don't/can't exist as individuals.

I'm really curious to see Koffin-K's reaction to these two's deaths. REALLY REALLY curious.

I think that he'd completely break down (before that he'd be in denial) upon realizing that his idiots are actually gone forever and were killed by someone Koffin thought would make a good servant. Still, for some reason, I doubt he would become so enraged that he could avenge them by killing Chara.

Regardless of his reaction, he'd definitely miss them a lot.

When everyone was gone, Harry and Larry were the first on his mind i feel like they're his biggest headache but also the two monsters he loves most, in his own unique way

Random thoughts as a bonus bc why not:

I swear, it seemed like they wanted to say "You're talking to THE COUNT'S lackeys!" and "You ain't the dad of us to tell us what to do!" Also, Harry looks scared/nervous/unsure/ af. These guys really are both cowardly and impulsive

Istg, they act like (man)children with Koffin being their strict but goofy dad mom who makes them do chores when they'd rather laze around (I know it's part of their job and everything but the way they talk about their duties gives me this vibe)

...yeah, just KK acting like an annoyed dad, nothing new to see here

Remember how, in the last post I wrote, I said that Harry and Larry are materialistic (for a good reason)? Yeah, they're so materialistic that they'd even "betray" their boss for some cash (unrelated, but I love this game's humor)

These two have a dog's loyalty, but even their house looks like a doghouse (or maybe it's just tiny compared to the keep). Speaking of the keep...

Interesting that, whoever wrote on this wiki, didn't include the other workers almost like it's just the three of them that are a family while the others are just there for the easy money

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

All Too Well

Summary: Reader finds herself reminiscing on a long gone relationship that she remembers all too well. The image of the woman in the moodboard doesn’t accurately depict “reader” as she is a self insert character. I wanted to include images from the All Too Well Short film that you can find on YouTube (highly recommend if you haven’t seen it yet!)

Warnings: Toxic relationship, implied age gap, an incredibly unhealthy amount of TS references

Word Count: 4700

Paring: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Angst without a happy ending)

Author's Note: A fic that I thought I would never actually finish. There's an absurd amount of Taylor Swift references. I really hope you enjoy this! And special thanks to my wonderful friend @reidsbookclub for reading and giving me kind words!! This fic has taken me pretty much months to write. I really appreciate all reblogs, comments, and tags!! I hope you enjoy this, it does break my own rule about sad endings, but I think we can all make an excuse for All Too Well.

MASTERLIST | LATEST FIC | TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

ALL TOO WELL

Loving him was like making an oath. I made it my sacred oath to cherish what we had before he tore it all up. It was something rare. We’re just skin and bone, bruised and blue by the love affair that left me on the stairs crumpled up like a discarded scrap of paper. The kind of paper with a messy, half thought out note. Something careless and unimportant. Something long forgotten and stuck in time. Frozen behind glass, a forever winter longing for her summer sun.

I would have been his summer sun. I wish I could have been his only one. But his love was a faithless hoax I believed in. I contorted myself till my bones threatened to snap. I loved him with my entire soul, the same soul that he left covered in dust and fractured in thousands of shiny pieces reflected light onto his soulless eyes. He left me bruised and betrayed, but still begging for his bogus benevolence.

Maybe if I retraced my steps I’d be able to figure out when everything fell apart. If I had to guess, it was our first encounter in the lecture hall. His love burned me to the core, but at least we were electrified. And even now, I can still feel it surging through my veins.

Or maybe not. Maybe I gave myself the sign the moment my lifeless frame cowered away at his empty touch. Maybe I should have reconsidered falling for the face of a traitor disguised as the closest thing to a miracle.

Falling in love with Spencer wasn’t like tripping over a forgotten pair of shoes and catching myself with both of my hands firmly on a chair. Loving Spencer Reid was a full on car crash. It’s a collision that knocks the wind out of me, leaving me with nothing to do, but lick my wounds and hope I’ll make it out alive. The impact should be the part that hurt the most. But it's what comes after that’s the worst. Again and again I’m in that car crash, wondering if I made it out. Constantly trapped in an endless cycle, letting him ruin me over and over again. All for what? Stolen glances in lecture halls? Regretful kisses in elevators? Wearing his cardigan, kissing in his car again? The chance that man that was never mine, might want me to be his?

I remember his voice.

His voice echoed in the lecture hall Professor Reid called his classroom. I was always early to class and he was always running late, meaning every Tuesday and Thursday we crossed paths. Him leaving and me going, even now with the knowledge and wisdom of hindsight on my side it all makes so much sense. But maybe I’ll just allow myself the peace of being a beautiful fool.

He’s much younger than the rest of the tenured staff, making him the object of many students’ affections. I can’t say I blame them, or myself for that matter, even. He’s handsome in a dorky way. And he’s dorky in a handsome way. But there’s so much more to him beneath the surface. I can see in the way his hands grip the strap on his satchel or the way his fingers fiddle as he explains questions to students. But I can see it most in the way he looks at me.

His back was turned towards the white board as he frantically wiped away the messily written words. I’ve heard rumors about him. Young undergrads gushed about how cute he was, teaching assistants swapped stories about his time in a prestigious FBI unit, other professors rolled their eyes at his youthfulness, but even they couldn’t resist the very strange charms of Spencer Reid.

He must have heard me coming in, because Spencer turns around towards the noise. He gives me a tightlipped smile and a friendly nod before turning back towards the white board. I can hear him muttering under his breath. His voice, somehow, is soft yet commanding. There’s something about it that makes me want to hang on to every word he says.

“Do you need some help,” I asked him, regretting it the moment I said it from the way he looked at me. Relief washed over his face as he nodded a silent yes.

“I’m awful at technology,” he admitted, “Are you in my class? I’m usually pretty good with faces and names. And even if I wasn’t, I should remember a face like your’s,” he told me, his thinly veiled attempt at flirting in that moment made me feel special. But now it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I was nothing but a shiny new toy for him to play with and discard when he realized that my reflection needed something to bounce off.

“I, that’s very kind of you to say,” I told him. I hoped that the tremor in my hands didn’t give away just how much his words affected me, “But no. I’m a grad student. I have Professor Patel in about ten minutes, I just like to get here early. Ahh, there, Professor, you just need to make sure you keep saving your work. I know it’s a pain,”

“Spencer,”

“Excuse me?” I asked, sneaking a glance upwards at him. He’s so tall, but not imposing like some tall men are. Spencer Reid is tall and very handsome, but the kind of tall and handsome that doesn’t need to boast about it. I’ve concluded that he knows he’s tall and handsome and therefore doesn’t feel the need to tell women just how tall and handsome he is. Or, conversely, he doesn’t care that he’s tall and handsome. Considering that he often had this far away look in his eyes, like his brain was running on overtime all the time.

“Considering that I’m not your professor and that you’ve taught me something, I think you should call me by my name. If you want that is,” he explained as he leaned down to check the progress on the revived document I saved. As he leaned, Spencer rested his arms on the edge of the desk. His rolled up sleeves and quiet timbre of his voice made me want to dive deeper into the gold rush of adrenaline and emotion he made me feel, even in the short time I’ve known him.

Somehow, I could see what’s hidden behind the surface. What’s behind those kind eyes, the kind of eyes with an indescribable color. Sometimes brown, sometimes green. Maybe one day I’ll forget innocuous details like the color of his eyes. When it’s long gone and there’s nothing I can do, maybe for my own sake I’ll convince myself that his green-brown, kind eyes are forget-me-not blue.

Because even though I burned, I hope he’ll never forget me standing there in a nice dress with red lips that match his perpetually rosy cheeks. He’s younger than he seems. Spencer doesn’t look old, but wise.

Other students knew Spencer as Professor. Staff knew him as colleague. But I knew him as Spencer. I convinced myself, in spite of all the signs he must have given me that the Spencer I knew, that the Spencer I would have loved with my dying breath, was the real Spencer. And now, with Spencer-shaped scars surrounding my soul, I’m not sure about much of anything anymore.

“See you Thursday-”

“Y/N,” I said, intercepting what I knew he was going to ask. I’ll remember it forever, the sound of my name on his lips. Even though I’ve only heard it once at that moment, it was my favorite sound. I’ll replay it in my mind, like a film with an ending that tears me up every time I watch it.

It’s also the first time I saw him walk away from me. But certainly not the last.

I remember the way he smelled.

If Spencer sounded like everything good in this world, Spencer Reid smelt like fall.

The autumn leaves fell down like pieces into place. The leaves, some fiery reds and some soft yellows mixed into an unseemly brown. The leaves crunched under our shoes as we walked side by side, hand in hand. I tried to act cool when Spencer held my hand, even though it felt like my heart wanted to burst outside of my chest.

“Come on,” he teases, a strange look of youthfulness on his face, “It’s not that hard, Y/N,” Spencer says, my name on his lips makes my heart erratic. Everything about him makes me erratic. His spicy cologne, the way he held my hand as we walked up the path, the way his jacket fits around my shoulders. Everything about Spencer makes me completely and utterly dazed.

Spencer drags the bike along the path with one hand as he keeps the other interlocked with mine. He looks over at me smiling. He’s beautiful with the sunlight basking behind him. I can get lost in him. Lost in the way his eyes never leave my face, lost in the way his voice says my name like a secret language, lost in all of him that’s only for me. But in reality I never lost him, because I never had him. Somewhere along the line we got lost in translation.

“I’m scared,” I whisper as we walk further and further along the path, “I know it’s silly. I’m nearly 23 and never learned how to ride a bike,” I chuckle, the self-deprecation masked as humor natural to me. Spencer doesn’t laugh. He stops walking to look at me.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says, nearly making me stumble with his firm tone, “It’s okay to be scared, Y/N. This is new and you can get hurt. But I’m here, to catch your fall. Besides, I brought Bandaids,” he says, eyes twinkling with laughter. I could never quite pinpoint how old Spencer is. Sometimes he’ll laugh and seem like a little kid with glasses, but other times he’ll smile at me and face will flood with lines and crinkles.

“I trust you,” I whisper, trusting myself to trust him with every ounce of my being. I’ll do anything to keep him smiling at me like that. It makes me, in a strange way, feel complete in a way I’ve never been completed. Maybe it’s soulmates or twin flames or just a figment of my worst intentions, but whatever I’ll spend forever wondering if I should have run as I as I could have.

“Alright,” Spencer says, breaking the silence that falls upon us. With Spencer I don’t feel like I have to fill the silence gaps with senseless conversation. When I’m with him it feels like I’m home somehow. I can see a sliver of the little kid with glasses he used to be. Back when he’d crawl into a twin sized bed after weekends spent traveling the world in cardboard box ships and afternoons clutching home lunchboxes in sweaty palms.

He adjusts my scarf around my neck and I can feel his rough fingertips brushing against my skin. I know now that his expired touches will linger longer than I’d want. And I hope that the scarf he can’t get rid of reminds him of me. Remnants of a love affair tainted with his woodsy cologne; the intoxication of needing to be loved so blindly.

It was this woodsy, sage and cinnamon cologne that Spencer wore as he steadied me on the bike with his hands on my waist that’s stayed with me even since I watched him leave.

“I won’t let you fall,” Spencer said to me. He whispered into my ear, making the hairs on my skin stand up at his closeness. I shivered, still not used to having someone as magnetic as him so close to me.

“Promise?” I ventured. Looking back I think that perhaps what Spencer said wasn’t about that bike ride at all. Maybe he was talking to himself. Maybe he was, as his hands melted into my skin and his words warmed my brittle heart, willing himself not to fall in love with me. But I fell, not on what I thought was shared, sacred, special holy ground. No, I fell for him. And broke my bones and lost myself in the process.

“Promise,” Spencer whispered, in what, at the moment everything I wanted to hear, but furthest from the truth, “I’m going to let g and all you have to do is pedal and, well, not crash,” he added, the layer of dorky humor bubbling to his mind-numbingly attractive exterior.

“Okay,” I shouted, nervous as he let me go. My waist felt empty without his hands resting against my body. I could hardly hear him as I pedaled down the winding path.

The blaze of colorful autumn leaves rushed past me. In a way, I felt like I was soaring through the sky, flying above the trees. If I strained my ear, I could hear Spencer shouting in the close distance. I broke hard and planted my feet firmly on the ground. Spencer, beaming with what I desperately hoped was pride, jogged towards me.

“I did it!” I exclaimed, allowing myself to be proud of my grossly overdue accomplishment. Spencer’s warm smiling filled my cold soul.

“That’s my girl,” Spencer said. He kissed me on my forehead, holding my face in between his two hands. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get swept away by Spencer. I’ll do anything he says if he says it with his hands. I’ll betray myself a million little ways for the scraps of affection he’ll toss my way.

In that moment, with him holding me close, kissing my face, and calling me his, I knew that it was far gone. I knew that Spencer Reid had ruined me. And, even now, I think I liked it. Because, at least for a little while, I was his.

I remember the way he touched me.

“Are you even real?” I whispered into the blue soaked bedroom. It was neat and tidy. Spencer had books scattered around the room, some are under faux plants, some are collecting dust tucked away in the corner.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked. He pushed stray pieces of hair behind my ear. His lyrical smile plucked my heartstrings.

“It’s just,” I started, doubting myself, doubting what we had, even then, “it’s just, sometimes I feel like I made you up,”

He didn’t say anything after that. He just kissed my forehead as he slipped out of his crumpled bed. Spencer turned around to face me. He extended his hands, giving me an excuse to touch him again. And I’ll take it every time.

“Dance with me?” Spencer asked. The question barely slipped from his tongue before I clamored from the bed. His flannel shirt, engulfing me in his scent, slipped from my shoulders.

I nodded yes, marveling at how beautiful he looked in the deep blue hue that drowned the bedroom. The warm yellow light from the bathroom forms a halo behind his angelic face. Maybe I should have known that my eclipsed sun had a deceptively crooked halo. But I was blinded by his heavenly touch that I missed the hellish aftermath it put me through.

We swayed together, my face pressed up against his chest. We danced with the bathroom light illuminating the flaws we tried to hide from each other. He kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before. I believed his empty promises because I craved his even emptier touches. They felt real in the moment. His calloused fingertips brush over skin that begs for his attention.

I don’t think I was ever a religious person. Maybe it was the idea of pledging belief in the intangible that never sparked something in me. I may not believe in much, but I did believe in Spencer. Even though he burned me, bruised me, betrayed me, his faithless love is the only hoax I believe in.

It was moments like that, frozen in time, that I hoped hard enough that what we had could last forever. He held my cold body close to his, drawing shapeless shapes over my bare skin. Bashful and shy, when he blushed at my delight over his childhood photos I saw the tiniest sliver of the little boy with glasses that slept in a twin sized bed. I wonder, looking back, if his bed is cold without me now. If he regrets telling all about his past like the thought his future was me.

I remember he left. When I felt so cold and lifeless and empty with his hands all over me. For a man that couldn’t say he loved me, he certainly touched me, kissed me, worshiped me like he did. I suppose, now, it was just a false love, worshiped at a false altar with a false prophet chanting my name.

I miss his hands, warm and big, that burned into his flannel shirt he let me wear. Just like Spencer’s baited breath is the only soundtrack I want to dance to, his borrowed touches are the only touches I care to feel.

I remember how it tasted when he left me.

The buttercream icing was too sweet. It was so thick that I felt like I had to swallow three times before I felt like I could breathe again. I was on borrowed time. It was only moments before my winning smile would give way to the painful frown that I hid so gracefully.

I remember it all too well. Standing there in my party dress with red lipstick missing the only person I cared to see. I guess, looking back, I felt unmoored as I watched my friends dance under the mirrorball without the pain of being unloved.

The sweetness gave way into bitterness as the night matured. It became harder and harder to play the part of the ever-shiny jewel. I remember that I started with passion at the mirrorball high above my head. I wondered if I started long enough I’d be able to see my own reflection materialize before me. I wondered too, against my best intentions, that if I hoped enough he’d show up too.

It was hard to be at a party when all I felt like was an open wound. And what you don’t know is how much harder it is to heal that wound when the only one that could fix it couldn’t be bothered to show up.

Glitter littered the floor, along with empty bottles and expired laughter. Alone, I sat on the hardwood floor wondering if my borrowed time with Spencer had finally turned sour. It would be a lie to say that I couldn’t have seen this coming. But it would be a lie that I’d like to ignore. Instead, I’ll pick up the rose colored glasses to watch our ill-fated illicit affair in irresistible rose blush.

Lost in the memory, I almost missed the frantic knocking at the door. Standing there, looking like hell, Spencer leaned against the doorframe. If I liked myself more, I would have kicked him out. But I didn’t, I thought I loved him more than life itself. I suppose now I loved him enough to justify hurting myself. And maybe, if Spencer loved me in return he would have known to not string me alone for entertainment.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to speak to him in a potent tone. All I wanted was to jump into his arms, even if it would kill me.

“It’s your birthday,”

“It was,” I replied. I spat the words through my teeth, hating the way that Spencer’s intelligent eyes and warm hands made me want to forgive his indiscretions with a nonchalant wave and a pained-masked smile. I’ve found myself bending with Spencer. I bent when I met his friends, lost in their world of children and spouses and opinions on fancy bottles of wine. I bent when I pretended not to love him in front of colleagues at university banquets. I bent when I swallowed my sorrows when he didn’t show up that night.

If I bent anymore, my bones would break in half. And, somehow, standing there in my party dress with my lips painted in red lipstick, I knew that Spencer wouldn’t be around to mend them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer said, maybe saying out of obligation more than truth, “I got caught up in something and I just…”

“Save it,” I told him as I turned on my heel to clean up the bottles that lay forgotten on the floor, “I get it. You’re too important and special and wonderful to be bothered with my frivolous friends and their frivolous parties,”

“You know that’s not true,” Spencer retorted, letting the half deflated balloon fly up to the ceiling, “You’re overacting, Y/N,”

“I’m overacting?” I shouted, feeling the last eight months of swallowing my words threaten to come back with a vengeance in my throat. I can still recall the way the weight of him festered inside of me. Like a wine stain that I can wash away, no matter how hard I scrub.

“Yeah and you’re acting like a spoiled child. It’s embarrassing,”

The sweetness is gone. The bitterness is washed away by something else entirely. I think I prayed that night. I prayed that the floor would swallow me whole. That I wouldn’t feel the way my eyes burned with tears. That I wouldn’t fight that all too familiar lump in my throat. That I wouldn’t have a tremor in my hands that I couldn’t shake. I prayed to feel nothing, because, in that moment I felt everything. Everything came back to me. The stolen touches in empty classrooms, the bike ride with the autumn leaves that crunched under our feet, the countless silent nights when I memorized the color of his eyes. I’ll remember it all, all too well.

“I embarrass you?” I asked him, wondering if the break in my voice breaks him too. I hoped it did. I hoped he realized that because I loved him so, hearing his words of ridicule broke me in return.

“Look, Y/N. You’re young. You’ve just got a lot of growing up to do-”

“I embarrass you?” I repeated, waving my hands in the air to wash away his words, “Do you even love me back?”

I never hated the silence. I thought I could hear it in silence. I thought that if I listened hard enough, I’d hear it in the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way he loved me.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, talking to me like I was petulant child with a wild imagination, “Come on,”

“No, Spencer. You don’t get to tell me to come on. You don’t get to minimize what we had. You don’t get to call the narrative when it suits you. You have to call it what it was,” I shouted at the top of my lungs, not caring that the entire apartment complex was privy to our fallout.

“You’re making a big scene out of nothing,” Spencer retorted, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the floor, “I think you’re drunk and tired and confused,”

“I loved you,” I whispered, stepping so close to him that I could see the way his skin crinkled around his eyes, “I loved you with every fiber of my being. I remember it, Spencer. I remember what we had, I remember how you loved me,”

“Please,” Spencer scoffed, his annoyed tone hurting more than an angry one ever could, “I’ve…we’ve”

“You kept me like a secret, Spencer. But you…you were an oath to me. You were everything I ever wanted. I was everything I ever wanted to be with you,”

“I think…I think we’re done here,” Spencer whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear one final time, “Maybe, Y/N. Things could have been different if it weren’t for time. Maybe if we were closer in age. Yeah, maybe it could have been different,”

And that. And that made me want to die.

I should hate Spencer. I should hate him for stringing me along, making me believe that he loved me back. I should hate him for ruining me. But that’s the thing. It’s so sick how much I don’t hate him. It’s sickening how much I still love him. How can I hate him when I love him? But what is loving Spencer if it makes me hate myself?

Watching him in the rearview is like watching a silent movie with characters that are achingly familiar. Tragically beautiful and doomed fall apart. I can see us, twin flames, lost in the memory watching what we had slipped into a moment of time. I’ll come to hate it. Time, not Spencer.

In hindsight, I knew I should have seen the signs. The way he’d look over his shoulder in public, or the way he'd come to me after cases, when the dark of night was a twisted veil that covered our sins. Tragic and fated to fall apart. It’s sickly Shakespearean with a mix of old Hollywood. But in the movies, he’d love me back and wouldn’t push me away when the sun peaks in through the blinds.

I’m not sure of many things anymore. I’m still trying to pick up the pieces of my fractured soul. When our souls parted, I fell apart. It was like a part of me fell apart at the seams when our souls parted. When he turned his back on my and darkened my wistful daydreams. When he turned my blissful ignorance into scorned apathy.

I can see us, even now, dancing in the star-drenched dead of night. Our quiet heartbeats and the steady hum of the refrigerator are the soundtrack to a bruising illicit affair. I can feel Spencer’s words, drunk on the idea of me, as we waltzed together in step. I can’t do that anymore, but all of it reminds me of him. It’s hard to dance when all you feel like is an open wound. It’s hard to feel anything when you feel nothing. It’s hard to move on from something that wasn't much of anything.

We all want to be the main character in someone's love story. Desperately, we’ll cling to this notion of happily ever after and look longingly into the distance for a 35mm camera to capture the magic that unfolds. I suppose that we’ll learn too late that we’re not the star, shiny bright and never dull. We’re lackluster. We’re dented. We’re nothing like was promised.

After all these days, I still dream of being the main character in his love story, but he ripped that paper out letting it lay crumpled on the floor, forgotten and tarnished. Maybe one day I’ll wake up to a fresh page. The crinkles that he abandoned me with will be smoothed out like I’m brand new. What’s passed is the past, prologue in the story of everything.

He persists, preserved in my memory. Time might fly by, but I’m paralyzed by it. I’m still trying to find my old self again, while being scared for what awaits me in my own reflection. Will I see the scars that he left? Will I feel the emotional bruises he left. Will I ever be a fresh page on the desk, writing my love story as I go?

But he keeps my old scarf from that very first week because it reminds him of innocence and it smells like me. He can’t get rid of, after all this time, because he remembers it all too well.

I knew he’d linger on my lips. Slow to leave like the last train from the station. I knew that I’d miss you as the dust settled on my frozen form. I knew that he’d be all over me, and nothing I could do would change what we had. If only, if only Spencer Reid had loved me enough to call it what it was.

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[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift launched her return at 5am UK time on Friday – and her new single Me! has already racked up millions of streams and video views around the world, breaking a string of records in the process.According to YouTube, Me! now has the all-time opening 24 hours record for a solo artist on the platform, with 65.2 million views, beating Ariana Grande's 55.4m for Thank U, Next. It's also the biggest opening 24 hours for any of Swift's videos (beating Look What You Made Me Do's 43.2m), and has gained more likes than any other Swift video in its first 24 hours. 

Swift is also now the only solo artist with two videos in YouTube's all-time 24 hour openings, although Me! did fall short of BTS Feat. Halsey's Boy With Luv, which opened with 78m views earlier this month. Swift also set a new high bar for the all-time Vevo 24 hour record, while Amazon Music announced that Swift broke two records on its platform: most first-day streams and more on-demand voice requests with Alexa than for any other debut. We'll have to wait for tomorrow's Music Week Official Charts midweek update for confirmation of how Me! is faring in the UK, but Music Week sources indicate Me! is ahead of Stormzy's new song Vossi Bop in the early sales flashes.

Rumours abounded about Swift’s direction on her long-awaited return after her last album, Reputation, which received relatively mixed reviews but still broke sales records with yet another one million-plus US sales week. Me! is the first song to be released via her ground-breaking new deal with Republic, and is released by long-time label home Virgin EMI in the UK.Produced by Joel Little (best known for his work with Lorde) and Swift, and written by Swift, Little and Panic! At The Disco’s Brendon Urie, who is also a featured artist on the song, Me! certainly moves away from much of the last album. 

The opening to the video features a Reputation-era snake transforming into a shower of brightly coloured butterflies and, where the last album launched with the Gothic horror of Look What You Made Me Do, the spectacular Me! video – directed by Dave Meyers and premiered on YouTube, where it was preceded by a live Q&A with Swift  – goes heavy on the pastel shades and day-glo positivity.Lyrically, it’s coming from a similar place, with another mischievous Blank Space-esque skewering of her supposed dating persona (“I know that I’m a handful baby… I know that I went psycho on the phone”) and an irresistible chorus that celebrates individuality (“I’m the only one of me/Baby, that’s the fun of me”).Musically, it’s a return to the classic upbeat lead singles from Swift’s unstoppable pop era, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and Shake It Off, complete with lolzy aside (“Hey kids! Spelling is fun!”) and a mega-earworm chorus. It feels more spontaneous, less precision-tooled than much of Reputation and – with the song already added to BBC Radio 1’s A List, it feels like a guaranteed radio smash.Hip-hop dominated streaming services may prove trickier – Swift only embraced the format relatively recently. But the song seems to have strong support at Spotify – it’s the first song on New Music Friday UK – and soared straight to No.1 on iTunes. 

On YouTube, the video had hit over 23 million views by Friday afternoon (indeed at one point it appeared to be much higher, judging by the confused fan comments about views going missing).Me! is the first lead single from a Taylor Swift album to have a featured artist. Urie has come a long way since Panic’s early emo-rock days. But, now with some previous in this territory since his appearance on The Greatest Showman Reimagined, he’s totally in his element in the musical-inspired video, channelling his inner Mary Poppins as he flies by umbrella and dances up a Busby Berkeley-esque storm.

The biz will now be watching closely for news of an album – although Music Week understands nothing is too imminent – but in the meantime, it all adds up to quite the comeback. As Swift sings, “You can’t spell ‘awesome’ with ‘me’” – and you still can’t spell ‘pop’s greatest superstar’ without 'TS'.

[romanssippycup]

Let me tell you a story...

Six months ago...I was at my breaking point. Six months ago I was tired of losing friends. By suicide. By fights. By miscommunication. By abondonment.

Back in febuary, before all I spoke of above happened though I had a rollplay group in the Undertale amino and on tumblr. We were all great friends and they were so hilarious, but things turned sour really quick when the first person commited suicide. I didn’t know there even was a suicide pact between this person and the core founder of our group, then she tried to commit suicide too.

I don’t wanna give the details, but I had lost about three friends. And then I lost everyone else. A big fight broke out in our group of 50. I remember people leaving, heartbroken, devastated, friendships shattering. It wasn’t good for anyone.

I remember sitting on the floor of my room June 10th just sobbing, because everything I had come to love and cherish in that fandom vanished in a few short weeks. My friends. My crushes. Everything.

I remember sitting at my computer scrolling through tumblr and slamming my laptop down angrily. Then opening it back up, thinking of going to youtube and watching a few light-hearted videos. With tears in my eyes, I saw Thomas Sander’s vines pop up. I remember he had always made me smile in the past. I click on his channel, and the first video I see is the “Becoming a Cartoon” video. Let me tell you I had never been so confused before in all my life.

Why was the dad character in a long video? He had a name? What is this egotistical, sassy prince doing outside of a vine? The teacher dude was always kinda hot though. But whose this new emo kid? I was intrigued, so I went through and watched all the Sander’s sides, out of order mind you though. So all the name reveals were spoiled for me. (Accept for Virgil’s, being a part of the fandom then was a real treat.)

But even so, I remember watching “My Negative Thinking” for the first time, and I broke down in tears. This time happy tears. This new series, had made me laugh and cry, and it was something that I could poor my heart into. I rewatched these videos for five long hours, before diving into the fandom.

I started on Wattpad in the end of June before AA parts 1 and 2 with Undeniably Important. The fandom was in a state of turmoil then, because we all knew Anxiety’s redemption arc was coming. I didn’t fully understand the dynamic of the fandom, but I started writing fanfiction anyways. This news series had given me something I had been without for a long time: hope. And gosh darn it I was gonna contribute. 

It didn’t exactly matter to me that I had never written fanfiction for another fandom before this. Before Inknew it I had written 10 chapters of my idea! I loved the characters. I had loved Thomas Sanders from the very beginning in 2013 and still love him to this day. I began loving Joan and Talyn. Then I began loving the Fanders! Everyone in this community is so freaking nice and cool! Just! HOW DO PEOPLE LIKE YOU GUYS EXIST?! JUST HOW?!

Coming from the Undertale Fandom you guys are just like heaven!! You all welcomed me on Tumblr. And I am forever greatful for that! We are all so lucky to live in a fandom where there are hardly any shipping wars, hardly any drama, we all lift each other up. We are LGBTQIA+ friendly. Actually we are everyone friendly. It warms my heart to see this type of community, and its such an honor to be part of it.

I wanted to give so much back to this fandom, that I started an appreciation month for it. It was supposed to be a silly thing, I honestly didn’t think any one would enjoy it. But so many people participated! (I do plan on bringing that back this August) I just feel so unworthy at times to call myself a Fander. Like you guys are just so amazing!!!

Being a Fander for this long, I just feel like I need to give credit, where credit is due.

@what-even-is-thiss I look up to you, like you’re the big brother I’ve never had. I know we hardly speak, but you were my leader by example when I was ace, and even still now. Thank you for being yourself and inspiring me, to be myself.

@thagrinbery My debate buddy! I love you more than words can say. You were one of my first ever friends in this fandom and I always had a lot of fun arguing about...nipples...with you XD. We are going to keep fighting together for the better, Bery. Please continue to be yourself, and don’t change for anyone. Because you are you, and I love you just the way you are.

@cup-of-blue Thank you for being one of my first friends in this fandom! You are an amazing drawer and your sense of humor is hilarious! We don’t talk as much as we used to, but I’d like to change that. Thank you for being awesome! Ilysm friendo!

@prplzorua You were the first fander that I ever admired, even before I was ever in the fandom on tumblr. For your amazing writing skills, and your ability to brush harsh comments off like they were nothing. You were always so strong and confident in who you were. I am honored to know you more personally now as a friend. I love you very much, and keeping beeing yourself. I know we still need to do a collab, and I’m open for it. I’ll message later today friendo.

@anonymous-snake Where are you? I miss you. We used to be such good friends. I know you said you were going to take a break from tumblr...but isn’t three months a bit much? It’s probably just me worrying about you. I hope you are ok and doing well wherever you are. Ilysm and know that people still love you here in the fander realm. Take care friend. We miss you.

@here-to-vent Eyyy Washington State bud! I think about you a lot, even though I know we don’t talk much. I still follow you and stalk you...the good kind of stalk XDEvery once and while just checking to see how you are doing. I wish for nothing but good fortune your way friendo! <3

@toxicsanders/ I know we hardly talk, but your resilience through the hard things that has happened to you through these past couple months has really spoken to me. You always find a way to push through your obstacles, even when life get’s rough. Keep moving forward friendo. You can do it. I believe in you.

@softlogic I know you aren’t in the fandom anymore, but I’ll never forget you and your kindness to me when I was just starting out on tumblr. Although you’re gone, I’ll always remember your words to me.

@justanotherpurplebutterfly You. You inspire me so much. You are just amazing in every way, shape, and form. Your writing skills are phenominal and you are such a sweet and caring person! You gave me hope at the beginning of september when I had none, when I almost left this fandom for good. I just can’t thank you enough for being my Fander friend. I love you very much friendo, And thank you!

@tinysidestrashcaptain How does one explain such an amazing person in words?! Just...how!? She is way too awesome for her own good, and one of the very few reasons why I’m still in the fandom today! We’ve gone through thick and thin together in these past five months! And it still baffles me that this amazing woman wants to be my friend! You are just so hecking awesome! Your writing, your personality, your sense of humor. You just contribute so much to this fandom and we can’t thank you enough for it! I am honored and proud to call you my friend! I love you more than life friendo!

There are tons of people I can mention who have touched my life over these six months, and I know I can’t name all of them! @leesacrakon @evilmuffin @leesacrakon @ts-sideblog @logan-logic @randomslasher  @prinxietys @princey-must-slay @pirate-patton @infinitesimally-patton @organizeddiscord @jiyudreamer @availe @fandomsandanythingelse @romananalogicality @remmythepegasis @pantton-sandacers @pattykrabbies Are all just a few that have helped me through my struggles whether they knew it or not!

 And I’m sorry that I can’t mention all of you, but if you are reading this right now, then this also applies to you! Thank you for makingthe  Fander’s fandertastic! I am human and I can’t get everyone, but just know how special you are. I love you all very much and thank you for saving me and accepting me into this web-connected, amazing, big happy family. <3

Thank you so much. @thatsthat24, @thejoanglebook, @tallykat3