#and no obviously im not saying the others are worse im just saying how do people accept astarion when hes Actually manipulative but not gale

[melrosing]

the thing that annoys me the most about the bullying claim among the stark sisters is that they talk about how much it affects Arya that she thinks she’s ugly and such and like she does, but she’s so much more worried about being “bad” she killed a boy. She’s also going through poverty and war and starving and being introduced to cults/bands of “justice” by murder

but nooooo she totally is more affected by being called horse face despite being compared to SOOOOOO MANY PRETTY PEOPLE AND THAT MEANS SHES GOOD (never mind that good looking=good person should NOT BE YOUR BASIS)

I think most people, and especially girls, know exactly how it feels to worry about your appearance and feel ugly and unattractive, and I get that this is a particular pain for Arya, who apparently has never been called pretty except by her dad one time in AGOT, in an offhanded comparison to her aunt Lyanna. I don't think attractiveness is the most important thing to validate in any child, but I do think that it is good and nice to affirm to your child that they have their own beauty, so that they can then negotiate their relationship with that word from a safer place in adulthood.

It's not about telling your child they don't look a certain way (e.g. no good telling Brienne she's a normal height and her nose is hardly crooked at all), but that the way they look is something unique to them and something they should take pride in, regardless of what others say. Like I think it's an OOC moment in the show, but I think it's sweet when Olenna tells Brienne she looks 'marvellous' or something. She's not saying 'you look like bella hadid', she's saying 'I love the way you look!' to a woman who has received nothing but insults (despite looking like fuckin. Gwendoline Christie lmao). that is nice. it's not the most important compliment anyone can receive, but it embraces divergence as positive.

as it goes though, Arya is a pretty girl and it's just weird that the adults found countless compliments for Sansa and none for Arya. and that's why I find it so bizarre that everyone wants to pin Arya's self-esteem issues on Sansa, a prepubescent child!! like, would Arya have taken these insults so hard if Cat had stepped in and said 'don't listen, you're a lovely girl and your father says you look just like your aunt Lyanna! sansa i am telling you off for calling people names'. children are always going to call each other mean names! it is one thing that is practically guaranteed to happen in any sibling relationship, and anyone who says otherwise is an only child or lying.

but it is much harder for a child to manage that hurt if they're getting called those names, and society seems to be reifying to truth of them at every turn! Septa Mordane is calling her ugly! Cat is calling her a mess! Ned has never complimented her till AGOT! etc! she has never received a compliment before! so how on earth can you say 'and Arya's self-esteem issues can all be traced back to the playground bickering between she and Sansa and Jeyne' when Arya is obviously getting the same message from what seem like far more authoritative sources! is it not worse that those sources are all complimenting Sansa all the time and never Arya? does that not make it worse when Sansa acts like a child about it? like!!

and yeah I agree that there are other more painful insecurities Arya is struggling with. I do think at least part of the reason that this argument keeps coming up in fandom is that people keep trying to claim that Arya's story is similar to Brienne's, in that she IS ugly according to society's standards and that's ok! which isn't true, Arya is canonically a pretty kid with a dirty face and unbrushed hair. that's all it is. so if we could just accept that, there'd be no excuse for the insistence that this is an important aspect of Arya's story.

because it isn't. like im sorry but the ugly duckling means nothing when there are plenty of people who don't grow up to be swans. they get called ugly as children, and they get called ugly as adults. look at Brienne: she has suffered far, far worse prejudice as a result of her appearance in childhood, and she doesn't get the catharsis of growing up pretty to show them all how wrong they were. Brienne has been treated like a fucking monster for how she looks, all of her life. this is a character for whom her appearance IS actually an important theme, and it will be meaningful to see her realise it's a strength, and find love etc. I'm sorry but Arya growing up to be beautiful doesn't mean shit to me lol. I fully accept it's canon, but it is not a meaningful story beat, in a story with people like Tyrion, Brienne and Sam. Arya's story has so many more fascinating themes about identity, trauma, justice, war, friendship and family. if Arya was pretty all along, why should I care?

#ask #asoiaf #arya stark

[wizardsix]

i guess i have to say it a million times since people insist on being dense: gale is just as much of a victim as the other companions. this isn't the trauma olympics. everyone has been through shit and deserves healing and redemption.

gale is not the self entitled, manipulative abuser people are painting him as. he's a lot of things, but nothing so heinous. he was groomed by a goddess who has a history of preying on wizards that threaten her power, and as a result, gale's ambition and faith was what drove him to discover the netherese orb. what he did was for mystra - in his mind, it was to prove his love by restoring her missing power - and by extension for the betterment of mortals. his actions were never malicious or selfish, in fact he puts himself so low on the priority list it's pretty much non existent. he was never going to use that power to usurp her, but mystra definitely saw it like that, which is why she didn't hesitate to present suicide as his only solution. he never crossed her personal boundaries in the way people are twisting it, he only wanted to cross the boundaries she put on wizards and their power.

people who insist he's all of these things and more clearly only spoke to him once or lack the reading comprehension to see past how much of an unreliable narrator he is. i can understand first impressions might put some people off, but you can say the same about the other companion introductions. i don't like comparing but since people insist on doing it; gale is one of the easiest companions to get along with just by being a good person, yet his honesty and selflessness makes people think he's secretly evil? while the companions with the capacity to be evil don't even try to hide it? how are people being so backwards about this? it's genuinely baffling and tiring to see people continuously spit out incorrect takes all too confidently.

no one is forcing anyone to like him, but it's unfair to completely mischaracterize him because you refuse to learn critical thinking. i promise using your brain is not as scary as it seems, or you can just. not talk about things you don't understand.

#all of them have issues but that doesn't mean they're irredeemable monsters. unless you push them to but that's on you #people are shocked that astarions ascended ending is so bad. yeah what did you expect from a soul sacrificing ritual for power lol #i cannot stress this enough. i don't care if people don't like gale. i care and am annoyed about the complete lack of media literacy skills #to the point where people are ruining such interesting characters. its a shame people can't appreciate good writing when we finally get it #anyway whatever idk if this makes sense its like 4am and ive looked at this post for too long #i have so much more to say but again its like not worth telling if it falls on deaf ears #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #six speaks #and no obviously im not saying the others are worse im just saying how do people accept astarion when hes Actually manipulative but not gale #i love star but we cant pretend hes not like that . and we cant pretend that gale is

[homophyte]

thank you for the long & thought out response. while i do fully agree with you on stances like prison abolition & the myth of the stranger pedophile scapegoat, my question and discomfort with jimmy’s actions comes not so much from a political/philosophical standpoint but from a very human emphatic one. i put myself in the shoes of the girl he groomed and abused and imagine people listening to and enjoying the music of my abuser and it makes me sick to my stomach. so thats more where my guilt and discomfort comes from. that said i can’t say that their music doesn’t have an impact or isn’t enjoyable. i also agree with you that this mass outrage and very public renunciation and demand for punishment is very much a social mechanism and automatic reaction that quite simplifies a complex situation. however these mechanisms exist for a certain evolutionary purpose after all (sorry my background is psychology) but thats sort of besides the point because im also not a fan of how these things get handled with zero nuance. 

its also true what you said that me or you or anyone deciding to disengage with this band or their music changes nothing in the grand scheme of things, so doing it as some sort of Noble Cause against abuse is useless. so in this case i feel it’s up to personal preference and whether or not i can swallow the cognitive dissonance and discomfort this information arises in me whenever i listen to their music from now on. 

thanks again for the insightful response, i’m glad we can have this sort of discussion because i also think this topic is extremely important but people often shy away from it because it’s so heavy. 

im glad you asked me to share! like i said ive spent a lot of time thinking abt this specifically so its very much like years worth of mishmash thoughts kinda strung together only by me experiencing them over time in succession lol. but i agree its important to talk about it especially within a culture so ensnared in the logic of the prison and particularly how effectively thats been exported into like 'mob justice' for lack of a better word.

re: the emotive aspect im not sure i have much to say other than like Yeah its a very strong one and i dont think its a bad thing at all to have. i got the impression from ur ask--and idk how true this is--that you were wrestling between a desire to return to the music bc you enjoyed it and that response preventing you and feeling a sort of obligation to do one over the other n struggling with that. so i think i approached it as like 'heres ways you can reason w that emotional response and grapple w it if its smth ur agonizing over' or something like that. im also a firm believer in the ways politics shapes the ways we think n feel so my instinct was to tease out some of the structures that may be shaping ur thought processes--which of course i nor anyone but you can fully know. but i dont get that same sense from how u describe it here and either way i think whatever feeling ur having about it is like...i dont want to say its 'valid' but ur allowed to have that and do whatever you want pretty much lol. i cant and am not going to force anyone to engage w the band and theres probably more reasons than i could think to list why its not for everyone even without the sordidness of abuse hanging over it.

without getting into a much much broader discussion i would gently push back on the idea of a biologically innate reason for the existence of carceral/punitive logics (and frankly psychology more broadly), if only bc it does a lot of the work of justifying them. keep in mind that these are concepts ideas and patterns of thought that exist because they serve systems of power and particularly the state. we did not have to have a society which created them, we only happen to--which is to say theyre not innate in this way and i disagree that they have an 'evolutionary' purpose bc it fails to properly historicize them. but thats me coming from an antipsych position lol

#asks #frankly for me its like....sometimes we do feel that emotional reaction n sometimes we dont #and im interested in where the difference is or where the line is drawn #some things are considered 'too big to fail' theres plenty of other much more influential musicians that have equal or worse allegations #but nowhere near the same response #and part of this is just 'size' its much more effective to do this to a smaller artist n a smaller community than like potential millions #of say michael jackson fans right. so part of this for me is yeah why does jimmy urine make ppl feel so strongly #and again part of it is 'size' msi is smaller its like 'cult classic' music for lack of a better word and its obviously evidently queer #so u can weaponize that extant fear of queer ppl and within the queer community of people fearing us #thats not to like diagnose that as something going on w u just that like....the emotional response itself is politically complicated #is what im going for here #so sorry i gave u a bunch a lot of stuff that may not have had anything to do with how ur feeling . i was thinking about other shit #im glad u appreciated though lol!

[lilgynt]

naturally i’m gonna be very upset at 6:09 am after an all-nighter over my brother and his actions

#personal #not the middle one we’re okay rn and talking again and he helped me get with my new job #even tho we haven’t spoken about the door and im not supposed to know he paid for it #so good but watch out #the eldest one i’m like hey i was gonna forgive ghosting me or flaking on plans you made with me for our dad #or not communicating that you already got everything done with said dad and all i really knew was my dad asking asking asking for his #eldest son and struggling for an answer for him #and even like not checking on me at all after i got kicked out and bringing a girl back and asking me to pretend to be asleep #god i regret not sleeping in a rest stop like planned that was so much worse #and also you and other brother just ignoring me begging for help telling you i got back into my ed and honestly going through the worst #time of my life also weed dependent to just cope and also my job sucked. minor but still #but again was ready to let it go bc you were so obviously in pain at the funeral i couldn’t be mad at that #but like why. after i offered to clean up after ur dogs did you um. ask me to do it again #then cussed me out after i asked that you don’t ask on the dot of when my shifts end #and then after mom told me i was selfish while struggling with a full time job and taking care of my dying father and struggling with that #and i was just asking what ur living situation was bc i felt like. hm. being told i’m awful for struggling during my dads death is a lot #instead of just saying no you go on a rant about how when we finally want to move in with you you’re doing something else and general #shit giving. instead of again. just saying no. or hell. checking on me. #so it’s like i’ll love you until every star gives out i can’t fucking look at you bc i’m so hurt #we haven’t talked since then and im not gonna hear from him till he asks what i want from christmas or he needs something #christ last time he checked on me was a segway to helping me going about the hoarder house as he loves calling it #i can’t believe i sent him photos of our dads writing saying i love you and his only question was is it still hoarder central #i was gonna type something mean i’m gonna lay down #i don’t want any gifts why would i want a gift. told him that i was hurt and didn’t want a gift my birthday and he responded and it’s gonna #and he’s didn’t respond* #be the same game during christmas #you brought a girl over on such an awful fucking night for me why would i want a gift #and it’s not like he hasn’t been there and doesn’t love me it’s just i’m hurt #and it’s not like he had all this space and my other brother and i never used it! i got kicked out and stayed a night! #other brother moved in with you! sorry circumstances led to me staying longer! just say no!

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

🔥 BJ Hunnicutt

My opinion on BJ Hunnicutt is whatever one of my mutuals last posted about him. My opinion on BJ Hunnicutt is whatever will get me notes. My opinion on BJ Hunnicutt is whatever Mike Farrell said in whatever his latest interview is because that man has so much love for this show and this character and his longstanding support of the queer community means so much to me and I like to think it meant a lot to Mr. Stiers too if it’s not too parasocial to say so and his interaction with MASH fans even decades later is so kind and sweet and the way he played his character even when the writers admitted he didn’t have enough to work with textually still has such an impact on so many viewers and I think that’s really powerful especially when you think about how it’s contributed to the recent boom in the general MASH fandom economy which no matter what I absolutely consider a net positive to the legacy of the show and to the world in general and even just to me personally given the way that being a part of this small community has changed my own life.

But mostly my opinion on BJ Hunnicutt is just. Whatever.

#I only care about him insofar as he affects other characters I like lol #Starky loves Anons #Starky loves answering questions #the thing with characters as popular as he is #is that before I even begin mentally I'm like oh I'm good there I guess #that part's done it's covered #I don't have to worry about coming up with a lot of thoughts and feelings about this character #because SO many other people already have #so I don't feel bad about not caring about him that much #because he's being cared for! by like 50 people all sharing custody of him #I instinctively want to turn my attention to less well loved places you know? #also I just love niches. LOVE to find a little niche. my favorite thing in the world. #ok now I hope this doesn't show up in any tags if it does im so sorry idk how tags work anymore #mash #Mike Farrell #sometimes I see people say Mr. Farrell is a worse actor than some others on MASH #and I'm just like well everybody sucks at everything compared to MY David Ogden Stiers who was perfect and could do anything always so jot #that down #and Mike here obviously loves MASH and loves gay people and that's all I could ever ask of any nice old man <3 #Starky's Original Posts #BJ Hunnicutt

[saltytyrus]

....

#failed to pee quick enough again for my drug test TWICE with the SAME LADY 😭 #shes a bitch on top of that #constantly venting about her patients in the waiting room while im getting ready #i asked if i could try again later bec i read that this happens to people and u can wait like 3 hours to see if there's any luck later #but she was like 'i cant keep waiting on u' #which okay fineeee this is annoying for both of us but fuck you #and she said to try again Monday...BUT SHES THERE AGAIN MONDAY #i cant do it again with her 😭😂 even my mom said she was a bitch #bec while i was trying to go she popped her head out and was yelling at the waiting room people #a guy even walked out #the same guy she was just complaining about to me beforehand bec she said he didn't sign in twice #but I'm pretty sure he speaks another language or was confused #i brought that point up and all she did was say the machine has other language options #anywaysss to make it worse (or funnier) i asked my mom to call and see if i can switch to a blood drug test #so she called the school.. two people transferred us over before saying they'll connect us with the cna coordinator....... #THE CNA COORDINATOR WAS MY TEACHER!!! 😭😭😭😭 so my teacher has a voicemail on her phone from a mother about her student #WHO IS PEE SHY 😭😭 #i just want a blood test 🥹 or hair follicle test idc but the pee is not happening #if i have to try peeing again it'll be attempt number 4 💀 #update: #...my teacher was not happy that my mom left the voicemail for me 💀 #my mom said she could tell she wanted to yell as soon as she answered the phone but my mom played it nice-nasty so it toned my teacher down #by the end #yet again she barely answered our question - at least not with a professional yes or no #but a 'i have introvert children too but she needs to learn how to advocate for herself' 🙄no shit but im tiredddd & you're a massive bitch #overall no blood test for me 😭 i have to go back for a third time to embarrass myself by the same tired lady #but seriously im so tired of my teacher always yelling or answering a question with a lecture thats 99% not about what i asked #my mom hit her with the 'i understand and agree that she needs to learn how to advocate for herself etc BUT i keep #telling her that theres no harm in asking questions' 💀 as my teacher was trying to bitch my mom out right off the bat #there's obviously much harm 🥴 i cant imagine the email id get back if i asked

[arolesbianism]

Why must I only be capable of coming up with cool art ideas long past midnight

#rat rambles #Ive been thinking abt hypothetical olivia jackie very very loose roleswap au and its just more doomed toxic yuri #itd just be jackie rapidly spiraling and doing stupid shit behind olivias backas olivia becomes more and more emotionally distant #jackie has this fun habit called self sabotaging in such a way that savotages everyone around her as well but way worse #and olivia has this fun habit called not noticing growing jackie problems until its too late #so all in all we get a less terrible gravitas (key word less Im not going to give olivia That much credit) and a far more unstable jackie #and that's saying a lot lol #jackie on her way to become the worlds worst lebian incel unethical scientiwait no thats already canon jackie post cancelled #you see this is why canon jackie is doomed to be worse than any bullshit I could pull off in a swap au because canon jackie has power #but it still is interesting thinking abt how gravitas would differ if primarily ran by olivia instead of jackie #mainly the big thing is that I dont think olivia would do a great job at noticing any decline in employee health being more distant from it #not deliberately so like jackie like olivia would still Try to build a good work environment I just dont know if shed do that good a job #I also feel like shed be equally hard to talk down from a potentially problematic project as jackie if she believed in it enough #olivia is proud of the work that she does and while she has better morals than jackie they still arent exactly ironclad #she and jackie both being self righteous is smth they have in common it just happens that olivia is usually in the right #but that's with the two of them theres plenty of other situations where olivia could easily be on the other end of the argument #which is why director olivia facinates me as a concept because it begs the question of how well could she manage to maintain her morals #she obviously Wants to maintain good morals but when in a position of power where her word always goes through would that falter at all? #maybe without even realizing its happening #youve made hard decisions before. what makes this different from the rest? maybe at some point it wont even feel difficult anymore #and maybe this in turn makes it harder for her to see the blood jackie tries to hide #because if she let herself notice that itd be impossible to ignore the blood on her own hands #meanwhile jackie is just being like maybe shell text me back if I keep breaking her trust itll work this time trust me #and then she proceeds to explode her brain or smth and gets printing podded and explodes again because shes somehow manage it #I just would want all three aus to be olivia having serious identity crisies while jackie reenacts ashfur amvs in the background

[29121996]

.

#therapy sypposed to help me deal w * n i think it made it worse to a degree #im not evne confused or anything #like i do feel vetter but . realising how deep rgis does go is alwahs Depressing #i am Not Escaping this anytimw soon andnim Stuck #until something gives way and i can move ( #figurativrly or literally #like i am not getting over him while i live in the same town as him. thats not happening. i cant . go uptown n run the rusk of seeing him #while also trying to move on and date other ppl #vx while i am Open to that and want to do tbat #i cannot . if he exists. bc he just . no one is Going to give me the same feeling he fid #n thats freeing n saddening btw . its a horrendous mix to feel 👍 #saw his ass ultown n cemented the End of me n this guy ive been talking to for 2 months .wgat can i say. hes a Curse #(it was more so #i wantes Out anyway bc i didnt like this dynamic and i wasnt gonna bother w it . not when i had other dhit to b worrying abt #n i already saw him as . Nothijg but a friend or wtv its hard to budge from that #so whatever #like i Obviously dont have to date or wtv . but like . i want to . i just am Struggling to get to that point when hes just fucking Everywher

[definitelyuseless]

like ironically i guess, the only sport i ever actually learnt the rules for in highschool was netball cause boys werent excepted to know the rules but still had to play it so the rules were explained but for every other sport everyone was just expected to know the rules already or something

#or the rules for like touvh rugby might have been explained but is tht even a real sport no idea #and like i knew the rules for softball but i also did that one in primary school although that was the tball version #but anyway i was so shit at sport its ridiculous and i dont even know how much of it was lack of ability and how much was attitude #but it was always so embarrassing and awful so there was no way id be getting good at it after that i guess #athough thats obviously cause i was shit at it to start out with #like i had to play the other sports but i mostly just ended up standing around and hoping the ball didnt go near me #but like sports so popular and stuff it was like everyone else liked it or at least everyone id talk to which was another reason that being #shit was rubbish i ended up with those people i never talked to or had anything in common with #allthough by year ten i just gave up and sat and read on the side and no one even cared #i dont know why im making posts about random shit about my life ffrom highsschool #i guess its cause this is basically just a journal #im so self obsessed itl interest me later #i mean i actually dont want to forget my memories even of inimportant stufff like this #highschool was like such an important part of my life when it happened like i honestly didnt do much else #six years of my life and like all of schhol primary school was just as important when i was there #but even for the last two years of high school it had already sort of ended #no one talked to me and it was all just academic subjects and all the worthwhile parts were gone #like literally i spend year 12 escepically alreaady missing it and now thats its finished i just dont think about it much anymore #but like yeah im a loser but i actualy didnt really have anything else even if i hated it there were at least some wrthwhile bits #i can never say if now is better or worse #but i dont know i think its reasonable to hold onto my memories they were me for so long #like even the unimportant memories #most of my life was those to be honest just random stuff happening i didnt really care about #without the stuff happening bit though

[the-kipsabian]

.

#idk if this is angsty or not so im just gonna throw it in the tags #but like. i fully know what my problem is. and how i could fix it. and literally the only thing making me sad and upset is myself #why? because my choice of medium is writing. because that makes it incredibly difficult to get anything out there and get people interested #in my creations. cause visual media is preferred so much over written anything cause its so much easier to consume #it doesnt help that i dont work with popular characters or ships (literally my current work im most excited about is for a ship only *i* #have contributed to so far. like.. we are talking that level of unpopular choices here) #and like. i dont say this to shame or blame anyone. this is obviously my choice. ive decided to do both of these things when i could have i #so much easier. i wouldnt be better at it if i did visual shit still. im way worse at that than writing. ive always been a writer first #but.. honestly seeing the difference with interaction and even in general interest due to these factors... #idk man. again i know this is entirely self inflicted like i chose this. i chose all of these things. and continue to do so #ive literally seen all of this. im not making it up. im not talking about just in general im talking this has happened to me personally #that rare time in june i made and posted art? do you understand the amount of ppl that said 'ive missed your stuff'? #the same people that dont consume my current works due to their form and have never went on the lengths to say the same thing about #my writing? when i took a two year hiatus from all of that basically? but a few months of visual arts? #idk fam im just. i understand all of this but im hurt. you know? #cause i know it doesnt matter. and its so much more difficult. i know there are people out there who love and appreciate what i do #and who understand how important this is to me compared to other stuff and before and whatnot #but at the same time the negatives (that are mostly in my head but they are still real things and they still hurt) are so much louder #i dont know where im going with this. im just thinking. excuse the brain barf #or dont. whatever. im just.. acknowledging my recent feelings. there is a reason i had a breakdown few days ago and yesterday was so rough #i should probably go to bed. sorry about this #its not gonna change anything in how stuff is viewed or how im gonna act about it but just.. you know. putting this out there #the inequality of how art is treated just has me thinking. that maybe im not made for this #maybe i should just be the below mediocre visual artist that does things that give them no happiness just cause it gets more attention #idk. just. yeah #good night #night is an absolute mess on main

[kerorowhump]

"H-Hi... we're back home..."

"But... sergeant, what's going on? Do you feel sick?"

"Don't worry. How are the guests?"

"I will be eternally grateful to her... if Lady Natsumi is leading the team that's in the kitchen I'm certain that our guests will appreciate it a lot..."

#ita dub #keroro #this adaptation choice is deeply interesting to me because it seems to be paralleling keroro and natsumi implicitly #as in. he trusts her leading skills with it deeply. an implication im not seeing in these subs #another thing that makes me think a lot is that when fuyuki asks how he feels. he replies to him not to worry #while the original im okay is obviously and visibly a lie. don't worry however implies that his status of health is unimportant and #shouldn't be focused on #they're saying the same thing in different fonts basically but i thought it was a neat thing #however the second part has more difference in that keroro is Deeply grateful for the fact natsumi chose to help him #''this is just wonderful '' is what it is... obviously... but him being grateful makes me think he wasn't expecting her to help him in the #situation and take the lead. and he trusts that she'll do a great job. which is obviously true in both #he is crying anything so it is something that touches him regardless of the dialogue #there is a focus on just natsumi specifically in the ita dub. the ''others'' are not mentioned at all #anyway take it for what it is ig #i mean these ita dub posts r mostly for me anyway to infodump to my friends who are english abt this series im watching in ita. #and archive neat differences no matter if i think they're better or worse or just different #no one has ever been this thorough in seeing what changes between the two versions in this anime i love so much #i found old forum posts about keroro ita adaptation and everyone was praising it as one of the best ones we've gotten #i feel like that is true and accurate. but i also wanna look deeper and deeper into it #i could just leave it as ''its pretty accurate!'' and it's true but youve also seen that in many ways. it's not. but it doesn't make it bad #an adaptation. by need and design. will never be like the original #nor should it aim to be. bc thats impossible and it would just become lackluster. i just.. have an intense interest in analyzing the choice #that were made when transposing this anime here. on all fronts. maybe no one gets it quite like me. but ive seen some appreciation and it #made me really glad. that people who dont even speak italian can know MY experience in watching the show #and then i can learn the intended experience or a closer version to it (subs are adaptation too! they wont be fully accurate!!!) and have #so much of it. different ways of it. to parse my best interpretations. it's so fun. erm anyways. enough talking. u dont get it probly #ive 👀 ppl criticize fuyukis voice but thats simone d'andrea hes a close friend to patrizio prata and they always did guys together in anime #dont be disrespectful to italian VAs ever or you will face my sword. unless i allow you specifically. like every1 pls say peridots VA sucks #it probably wasnt even her fault thats the director telling u to do something that doesnt work. it's so bad. #on the other hand i would lay down train tracks and die for stevens voice. riccardo suarez. the light in a dark tunnel. voiced yumyulack to

[gaystardykeco]

what to do when im obsessing and obsessing over conversations and interactions again but like the mistakes im finding are very real mistakes in a very real pattern that ive been trying to fix for years and keep getting worse about instead so like clearly the obsessing is warranted but also its eating my brain from the inside out

#definitely getting worse now that i have so few conversations with other ppl #but i just like...am so so bad at social rules and conversations and i cant seem to fix it or get better #and i used to be more unaware of how bad i was but now im so so aware and so i need to fix it #but no matter how much i think and think and think about it and plan how to do better i just end up fucking it up anyway #extremely frustrating and tiring and i really wish this wasnt so difficult bc i feel like for most ppl it just comes naturally #but for me like if i dont constantly obsess about it and think so hard i miss the mistakes and cant even start trying to fix the problem #anyway. sorry im just complaining again bc i had a conversation today and i fucked it up bad #and i wish i could just ask the person “hey did u feel like i was overbearing and selfcentered in our convo today” #but obviously thats like...not a thing ppl ask ppl so i really cant know if i really fucked up as bad as i think or not #so i can never really be sure and anxiety advice always says to assume ur brain is playing tricks on u #but then every so often someone says to my face that im selfish and a bad listener and shitty to talk to #and it becomes very clear that my brain is very correct when it says im fucking things up

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader imagines #simon ghost riley x reader imagine #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader imagines #simon riley x reader imagine #simon riley imagines #simon riley imagine #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x reader imagines #ghost x reader imagine #ghost imagines #ghost imagine #ghost #cod #cod imagines #cod imagine #captain price #price #john soap mactavish #soap #john mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #kyle garrick

[krispiecake]

sorry just. can i be insane a second? can i be completely honest but also batshit for a really quick second?

#im getting absolutely furious at the fact that staff are just casually having a convo like laughing and gossiping #maybe like 40ft away from me or something #while im sat her alone in the garden obviously not doing well and theyre just… having a giggle #like theyve asked me ONCE the entire fucking day if im alright its fucking insane #and yes i know things feel more intense and more targeted bc im triggered and have a pd ect ect ect #but this js MY blog and im sick of making disclaimers for how i feel so im not going to anymore #bc im sat here in the freezing cold bc if i stay in my flat im gonna try and end it #but i cant sit in the louge bc theres a meeting going on #what fucking meeting needs to be happening 10 at night #and like lets say it does #why is it not happening in their flat #you know a private place that doesnt impact anyone elses care or needs #like i know they have a living room too like its not fair theyve been using the communal lounge all day and all night for now the 4th day #in a fucking row #other people need it too #but no. bc im not as important or as pressing or as ill or as whatever as them #i have to sit alone with no support cold in the fucking garden #great im sooooo glad that everyone is being treated equally and that everyones needs are being taken into consideration 👍👍👍👍👍 #i just feel like screaming and crying and throwing shit and hurting people im so sick of referring to a fucking text book its not changing #ANYTHING like i still have to deal with it all but now its prolonged and now its worse and now i dont even get any results #im so fucking sick of all of this why cant i just be fucking normal #i dont get why i have to be stuck with this stupid pd and all my other shit bc of other ppls actions and i dont even get a fucking APOLOGY? #im so fucking exhausted and i just dont wanna do this shit anymore #update not even the crisis team gives enough of a shit to fucking pick up the stupid phone lol #its a sign i suppose

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled.  “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked. 

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake. 

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

-

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly. 

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen. 

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

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