#late night ted talk lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

402 notes · View notes

izusun · 3 years

Note

ALRIGHT I'M THE ANON WHO SENT THE STRIPPER AU SO IM DUMPING ANOTHER AU THAT I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH ONTO YOU (don't ask where it came from lmao)

Basically, quirkless Izuku gets a vibe check early in life when he realizes that his mom is really struggling to survive after his father walked out (no I'm not projecting onto him shut up-). Through middle school he slowly comes to the realization that capitalism sucks actually, especially when you are or are related to someone quirkless.

The sludge villain incident happens relatively as normal, only this time after rescuing Katsuki he fucking snaps at the pro heroes on the scene, then goes home without running into All Might. He does a bunch of research on pro hero scandals, losing that hero fanboy mindset as he goes along, but also does research into vigilantism and pre quirk media, discovering an ancient European pre quirk tale about a figure who robbed the rich and gave it back to the poor and needy.

Now he's on the streets as the vigilante "Robin Hood" who robs corrupt heroes and politicians and then uses that money to preventatively stop crime (donating to homeless shelters, giving it to various community centers for addict recovery programs, etc; he'd also stop any crime he happened to come by on the way to and from heists). He may or may not collect various other teenagers in his band of Merry Men all while Izuku dodges around telling Katsuki what he actually does all day (yes Kaachan's the Maid Marian stand in fight me).

TLDR; Quirkless Izuku becomes the vigilante "Robin Hood" thanks for coming to my TED talk-

- Goblin anon (I'm claiming it now, it's mine)

HI GOBLIN ANON!!! your au dumps in my ask box are always welcomed and loved!! sorry for the late reply hnsnsns, my lectures just ended

quirkless + vigilante midoriya who gave up on the hero system IS my fave trope, i’m not even joking. and this au??? this is just godtier!!

i have a thing for midoriya snapping at the heroes during the sludge villain incident. to set up the mood, i’d like to just unpack that scene for a bit.

ok sure there are many things that probably happened behind the scenes during that incident, such as them calling for more equipped reinforcements to take down the villain, but i think that they should have also done more for bakugou. like at least buy time to ensure he wouldn’t suffocate or, idk, strike a deal with the the sludge villain because their priority shouldn’t have been apprehending him but should have been saving bakugou. so imagine midoriya thinking the same thing i did. the torch he carried for heroes have dwindled over time and this was the breaking point.

imagine him growing up, accepting that sometimes the society just turns its back on you because you’re quirkless. imagine him thinking that there are certain thresholds only the quirked individuals would ever get to cross. imagine him thinking that being a hero really is only for bakugou and not for him. then-

then midoriya sees this powerful and strong individual who he kept looking up to at the hands of the same villain who also almost killed him, choking and panicking because the heroes are not doing anything. he thought that heroes only do nothing when you’re quirkless, but apparently they also do nothing to people like bakugou. bakugou who has a perfect quirk and a smart mind and who’s so so young. bakugou who the heroes aren’t even helping.

and midoriya snaps. he snaps because heroes do nothing to everyone. he thought he was the anomaly because of his pinky toe and everything, but no. the hero system is just fucked up. so as he ran towards bakugou and hurled his bag on the eyes of the villain, he thinks the hero system failed us but i will not. and he thinks i will not be a hero because i do not want to be like them. and he thinks i am here.

and so he saves bakugou and the heroes berate him for-? for what? for doing their jobs? he laughs maniacally and goes off. he spills his anger, spills the way it took a puny, quirkless middle school boy to save the day, and people are watching. people are watching the way he is screaming and opening his heart and pouring and pouring everything he never would have said, and the heroes are silent. they are silent as they listened. all of the them were.

people filmed this exchange, posted the videos they took online and then even more people listened to him. and midoriya sees this huge response and support; he sees the way people agreed with him so it helped him push his plans forward.

and so he does many many research and opens up several cases against slimy heroes and billionaires, and boom, he’s japan’s robin hood.

OK BUT we can’t have vigilante midoriya without dadzawa. LOVE ME SOME DADZAWA. and maybe parental tsukauchi because i love these two just trying to help this little vigilante who is too angry at the world who failed him, but never fighting the world back. they care for their little vigilante who shouldn’t be awake at the crack of dawn, busting out villain groups upon villain groups on his own. they care for their little vigilante who is becoming too popular.

so popular that even villains are looking for him. and maybe there would be an altercation between the LoV and midoriya, and who else would save him if not for dadzawa (and tsukauchi)?

also i’d like to imagine that bakugou too was moved by midoriya’s explosion of a speech. he’s taken aback and goes “huh, he’s right.” so he tries bridging their relationship back and midoriya always loved his friend so he accepts AS LONG AS bakugou does not cross him. because even if the hero system failed midoriya, as long as bakugou, who’s willing to change, still wants to become a hero, then there is hope in changing the hero system from the inside. to reshape it to how it should be.

and so bakugou enters UA and is more open (he’s in therapy) to everyone compared to canon (although not as much, still), and almost has a heart attack when aizawa pulled him aside one day, in the middle of the term, and asked if he knew who robin hood is. of course bakugou’s a master liar so he says no but aizawa is squinting his eyes at him.

also imagine: midoriya recruiting shinsou (they’re apparently from the same help group and they met up one night when midoriya saved shinsou from middle school bullies who cornered him and berated him even if he’s already in UA) and bakugou accidentally recruiting hatsume because she saw that someone changed some of his hero gear and she wanted to meet the smart genius who did it (it’s midoriya).

so midoriya’s circle grew from bakugou to now with the addition of aizawa, tsukauchi, hatsume, and shinsou.

(it probably would expand more because midoriya would stumble on this juicy information about the number 02 hero, endeavour but that’s for next time!)

AHHH ok i’m gonna cut it here because it’s getting too long BUT I LOVE LOVE THIS dhaksjwk

THANK YOU SO MUCH, GOBLIN!!!

74 notes · View notes

heymacy · 3 years

Note

Macy you deserve this and you know what for. Now let's all Moo-ve 🐄 on...

1) Pun based humour: objectively hilarious or only funny because of how painfully bad it is?

2) What is the scariest/freakiest mask you've ever seen in your whole damn life?

3) Do you eat healthy or are you easily tempted to the dark side?

🥦 🍔 (am I crazy or does a broccoli burger seem like it would be real delicious?)

bonk me again, howl, i fuckin' dare you 😇

(i'm kidding i fucking love you 💛💛💛)

1) listen, there are good puns, there are bad puns, and there are good-bad puns. i am only interested in the good-bad puns. if i don't groan audibly when i hear/read it, it doesn't fit the bill.

good pun: the past, the present, and the future all walk into a bar. it was tense.

bad pun: did you hear about the guy that tried to grab fog? he mist

good-bad pun: i lost my mood ring the other day. i'm not sure how i feel about it.

thank you for coming to my ted talk 😌

2) at my childhood home, my bedroom is on the first floor facing a greenbelt/wooded area. needless to say, it gets absolutely pitch black at night, meaning anyone could walk by my open window and i wouldn't even see them. one October when i was 16, like a week before Halloween, my bitch ass parents (who get a kick out of scaring me because they suck lmao) decided it would be funny to convince my next door neighbor to put on a Chucky mask and stand up against my window til i noticed. so hands down, that one. buncha fuckin' sadists i swear 😅

#3 under the cut (tw: food mention 💛)

3) i eat neither healthily or unhealthily 😭 i don't eat a whole lot lately because of some ✨sensory issues✨ i developed this year so most days i just focus on eating enough. but when i do have an appetite, i'm the worst snacker. i've literally spent $45 (€39 i think? for context) plus tax just to have cheesecake delivered to my door. i will finish a taco bell big box in like, 5 seconds. i used to eat constantly until this year and i have ZERO self control when my brain and body decide to cooperate 😭😅

#and like i'm not even SCARED of chucky it was just the whole there's-an-entire-person-in-my-backyard concept lmao #anyway howl i love you and i love question friday and i need to vote in your poll thing and also eat something thank you for reminding me #did i mention that i love you already? oh i did? sick well let's do another one for good measure: i love you!!!#okay i'm done now ily #oops snuck another one in there #answered #howlinchickhowl #question friday my beloved 🥰💛

7 notes · View notes

keelaofhufflepuff · 3 years

Note

I absolutely LOVED your ted-talk about drarry. How do you think they'd get together?

Ahh, thank you, love!

For me, it would take some good time before they actually got together romantically. Because even though they were obsessed with each other during the school years, they only knew what they saw. They never knew each other personally.

They would have to be forced together for some reason (either it be from sharing common rooms at Hogwarts during the 8th year, because Minerva has no idea where else to put them but together, being forcefully teamed up as Auror partners, or have an accidental bonding that requires them being close).

They would throw nasty comments at each other. They would bicker. But somewhere along the lines, they realise they have the same sort of humour.

They start pranking each other (Draco hiding Harry's glasses, putting Sleekaezy's Hair Potion anywhere Potter would go, Harry buying Draco a stuffed white ferret, putting pink hair dye in his shampoo, etc).

They would slowly and unintentionally form a sort of friendship between them, based on their common grounds. Such as being sassy, dramatic, clever and their humour.

They would make each other laugh like no one else could. Harry would laugh at Draco's complete failure of trying to grasp muggle things, while Draco would continuously mock Harry for the gawking girls following him around whenever they walked around Diagon Alley.

They would sit up late at night together, when they can't sleep because of nightmares, and confide in each other. They would tell the other about their side of the war. Draco would understand Harry in a way no one else does, which for Harry, is highly valued.

They would find themselves protecting the other, defending the other. Slowly starting to care about each other because of the friendship they slowly forged.

Harry would tell Draco all about his time at the Dursleys, making Draco furious and wanting to storm Privet Drive to scold them and throw hexes and jinxes at them.

Draco would tell Harry about his strict childhood. How he would never be allowed to go outside and play in the rain, how he would be fed false facts and be thrown into the world of pureblood supremacy. That he would be punished at home during the holidays for letting a "filthy mudblood" top his grades.

Harry would drag Draco into doing things they were never allowed to do as kids. They would run around in cornfields, dance in the rain, have food wars, dress in only muggle clothing and swim in the ocean.

During that time, they would occasionally touch each other. Like grabbing the other's hand, catching the other if they accidentally fell, and they would realise that having that sort of intimacy did something to them. They would find themselves wanting to be near the other, wanting to hold hands, find every tiny excuse in the world to hug the other.

And during one night, when Harry shows Draco the concept of Disney movies, Draco would laugh at something and Harry would look at him and he would just...

realise.

Realise that he loved Draco.

Realise that he had slowly fallen in love with the blond git.

And he'd throw Draco clumsy hints, making jokes about them being together, mentioning the "enemies to friends to lovers"-trope in one of the muggle books he read. But he would never go further, because he'd be too bloody scared. He didn't want to lose Draco. He didn't want to scare him.

But Draco would've picked up on those hints, because he wasn't daft. Nor blind. Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco had a crush on him and had had it for the longest time.

Draco didn't just believe that Harry could save them from Voldemort. Draco's heart broke when that awful monster jeered about Harry being dead.

Draco had sent Dobby to Harry at Privet Drive when he was twelve, to get him to stay away from Hogwarts, because he knew his father was up to something. Something to do with the Chamber of Secrets, because he had accidentally heard his father's conversation to get rid of the mudbloods. Especially the one mudblood that bested his own son.

And although Harry wasn't a mudblood, he was a half-blood. And that was enough, which Draco knew.

And that was the first time Draco defied his father. For Harry's sake. And he'd tell Harry about this one night, during their sleepless ones. And Harry wouldn't be able to restrain himself. He'd be so overwhelmed by the feelings for the prat, that he'd throw himself over him and kiss him passionately.

And it was just right. From that moment on, they just knew. They knew they'd spend eternity together. They would love each other, soothe the other, share laughs, bicker, defend the other, they would make the other a better person. They would complete each other.

And Harry would know, that somewhere, Sirius, Remus and his parents cheered with laughter and applause. Because they had known all along. Harry and Draco were just too much like Lily and James.

Blimey, this got longer than I expected, LMAO.

Hope you enjoy <3

#drarry #harry x draco #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry squad #drarry drabble #drarry ted talks #ted talk #hp universe

18 notes · View notes

kryptoniancape · 3 years

Note

Caryl moments you're looking forward to/hoping for in the spinoff (besides the obvious!) - for me it's Daryl teaching Carol how to ride the motorcycle :)

Oh boy, have I been waiting all day to write this. *Cracks knuckles*

Any motorcycle stuff is good tier; Daryl hovering over her with his hands over hers on the handlebars while he shows her the clutch/brake, Carol straddling him on the bike for a quick passionate makeout before they drive off somewhere—In fact that last bit is my ultimate crackheadcanon for the final scene we see of them in the main show. (I dream big)

Helping each other dress down for the night/get dressed in the morning and pausing to kiss each other’s scars. I especially see and love the idea of Carol doing this.

Cuddling and telling stories by a camp fire. And just like, more of them acting domestic as they move from campsite to campsite. The haircut scene from 9x07 was one hell of a teaser and I’m awaiting the feature.

Speaking of hair, Daryl playing with strands of Carol’s hair.

If they end up in another place with running water at some point: mutual shower time, obviously. (Other couples have gotten shower moments on this show, Caryl will be overdue for one or two!) And like, I see them falling into it out of pure convenience initially, because they’re naturally such a unit they’d think efficiency first and foremost :)) Honestly it doesn’t even have to be a traditional shower, they could just be trying to clean up wherever and it turns flirty.

This one’s kinda corny but I’d love to see Daryl take to a pet name for Carol, since she already has one for him. I imagine a standard term of endearment, but coming from Daryl it would be hilarious and adorable no matter what.

Getting stuck holed up somewhere until a threat passes but they find an old bottle of whiskey. And it tastes like shit but it gets them past the time with genuine laughs and carefree canoodling

For that healthy dose of angst, an episode or so where some kind of danger spirals into them getting separated by accident, and leads one or both of them to believe the other could be seriously injured, in trouble or worse, and then the absolute tooth rotting fluff moment of them finally finding each other unharmed, in a deperate embrace of emotions.

Acting super overprotective of one another/threatening potential hostiles they cross paths with for breathing too close to their respective boo

Making cigarettes and smoking them together

Nursing each other after an injury and being just a lil overbearing and cute about it

Turning random tasks into playful contests (just like acorn kick the can) and like making petty bets and shit too that may or may not involve sexual favours :)))

Obviously want to see Caryl + visiting iconic North American landmarks; maybe the grand canyon, and some Mayan ruins would be sick if they end up going that far south. If they come up to Canada and start tearing it up in my neck of the woods I think I would die lol. These would also be such priceless Daryl moments, because our bby has never seen anything outside of the southeastern states.

Stealing neat trinkets and stuff to give to each other as gifts, and being excited to surprise each other with it. Maybe they even give each other matching stick n pokes at one point, Idk

Okay lastly, (and this is sort of a specific headcanon I have that stems all the way back from that image of Melissa holding the guitar, lmao) They stumble across a safe-ish area late one night that has super weird western vibes, and surprise! It’s actually a fucking bar, with a bunch of burly scary lookin people on edge. And just when it seems like they’re all about to throw down they’re like, we’ll chill in exchange for one song. Daryl blinks and Carol is like, fuck it I’ll sing something for y’all if that’s what it takes for us to crash here tonight, so be it :) A couple of dudes with beat up instruments are already at the ready in an elevated corner of the room, and Carol sings some knockoff accoustic piece akin to Ride by LDR. The entire room is just hollering and thoroughly into it, and Daryl stares on with heart eyes and amazed bewilderment at what is transpiring. Cue some flash cuts afterwards of Daryl and Carol smashing beers with these complete strangers and all of them genuinely enjoying each others’ presence. 🎬

Whew, that was a full ted talk. They will be the death of me. I swear, I could watch another decade of their adventures together and it would never get boring. Caryl truly are in their own league. I’m enthralled by the proximity of just seeing them existing, basically.

#okay but like @twd hire me #I’m praying for at least a few bingos #caryl #caryl spinoff #caryl positivity #this ask was *chef’s kiss #ask #anon #meta

47 notes · View notes

a-curious-studyblr · 5 years

Photo

14/5/19 - I have a summer lab project at my uni that i’m doing with friends, but that starts in a week, so I’m going to work hard on my languages while I have all this time!! Today, I decluttered my room more, wrote a Korean language journal entry and read two texts in the French library book (I have a goal to read two a day and this is the second day) 📚💪🏻 Also did my other hobbies of learning more of a piano piece and drawing 😊

#ahhhh i like having lots of time -u- and not juggling study with hobbies and neglecting hobbies #i am listening to a lot of ted talks and podcasts lately while tidying and that feels nice -u- been a while #my posts #langblr #didn't get around to mandarin but it's okay i did loads yesterday #french #korean #studyblr #language journal #my pictures are so blurry lately lmao cos i take them at like 12 at night with non-natural lighting #at least idc about that studyblr aestehtic then it would be a problem lmao

0 notes

lizardkingeliot · 3 years

Text

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

#the magicians #queliot #otp: proof of concept #myfic

10 notes · View notes

aurieeeeeenyx · 3 years

Text

thanks for the tag, @veneritia :D

30 QUESTIONS: get to know me!

1. name/nickname: nyx (i also go by aurie cuz lol my url...haha...)

2. gender: uhhh good question *sweats* i generally use the label gnc (gender non-conforming) tho i think i also like agender? still figuring that out sjfjnabs (i use all pronouns btw; i like when multiple pronouns are used for me, though if you want to use one pronoun for me they/them is good)

3. star sign: gemini (don't know what moon and rising are)

4. height: you'll never know

5. time: too late to be doing my laundry that's for sure (jk it's late afternoon as of writing this...but i have been procrastinating doing laundry for the past four hours)

6. birthday: ;)

7. favorite band: the score

8. favorite solo artist: alec benjamin probably??? tbh i haven't listened to his stuff in a while but he's good go check out his music :) i mostly listen to random music that shows up in my recommended sdjfhds

9. song stuck in my head: all of them /j most recently maybe "i'm gonna win" by rob cantor tho honestly i always have at least 4 songs looping in my head at any given time /hj

10. last movie: howl's moving castle

11. last show: no idea; i don't think i've watched any recently, tho i have been thinking of rewatching atla

12. when i created this blog: april 2020 iirc

13. what i post: literally anything. this blog is just full of reblogs of random stuff (especially fandom related things for whatever fandom i've inevitably fallen into lmao) and the occasional creation of my own (art, animation, writing, etc)

14. last thing i googled: naginata

15. other blogs: i have a writing-only blog, @/aurienyx, which is...kinda dead, honestly. usually i post whatever to this blog, and then if it's writing (like Actual writing, and also original writing only-ish) then i'll reblog it to that blog. this blog was originally supposed to be a side blog but then...well, here we are (i post fics/drabbles and stuff to this blog only cuz yeah this one's more fandom-oriented; i think i post fic updates to the other one though)

16. do i get asks? rarely, but yes! i love getting asks, so feel free to send me one anytime :D

(getting long so the rest is under the cut!)

17. why i chose my url: oh boy. time for an explanation nobody asked for but i'm gonna give it anyways >:) a saga in three parts:

1, my url for this blog (aurieeeeeenyx) has 6 e's because it stems from the original (aurienyx), and that's because it was originally supposed to be a sideblog/joke-y blog—being unoriginal (/hj), i decided to stretch the vowels cuz that's what meme subreddits did and i thought it would be funny

2, the name "aurienyx" has two parts: "aurie" and "nyx". "aurie" is cuz i take latin, and "aureus" is "gold (coin)" in latin and like. that's cool (also we used to do this thing in class where we'd give ourselves names in latin and mine was "aurelius/a"). "aurenyx" looked funky to me so i stuck an "i" in there and that was that. the "nyx" part is where it gets fun: i used to be (and still kinda am) a mythology geek thanks, pjo/hoo and i always liked the name "nix/nyx", so i was like ah yes goddess of night nyx that's great—BUT i also really like(d) phoenixes so i was like aha! double whammy! and then i mixed them together and here we are

3, the less important part, "aurienyx" is a fairly short name with three distinct syllables and therefore easier to remember so like. branding or something ig (i didn't think abt this til after lmao) (this doesn't apply much to the url for this blog cuz it's loooooong)

so that's why! thank you for coming to my ted talk—

18. following: 256

19. followers: 129

20. average hours of sleep: .....don't attack me like this (not enough, clearly /j)

21. lucky numbers: don't really have them, but maybe 3 and 8?

22. instruments: piano, and i'm currently teaching myself (ish) ukulele! :D used to play oboe and cello but unfortunately not anymore...maybe i'll get back into cello someday (also thinking about learning guitar but uh 6 strings brain says no thank you /lh)

23. what am i wearing: right now i'm wearing a grey shirt/hoodie thing and black shorts

24. dream job: no idea/don't really have one; would love to be a part-time author though...kinda (i just wanna be able to create things for fun on the side ig)

25. favorite food: potatoes, maybe? they're so versatile it's great. but there's a lot of foods contesting for the spot so who knows

26. ?

27. nationality: :)

28. favorite song: oh god don't ask me this i can't chooooooose (but recently, probably "favorite color is blue" by robert delong ft k. flay... or maybe "revenge, and a little more" by unlike pluto... or maybe—)

29. last book i read: uhh besides an ungodly amount of fics i think the last book i actually finished was none of the above by i. w. gregorio. it was alright, though i wasn't really a fan. there's several other books i started but haven't finished reading, including (but not limited to) leviathan by scott westerfield, song of achilles by madeline miller, vicious by v.e. schwab, the night circus by erin morgernstern, the raven boys by maggie stiefvater....the list goes on

30. top 3 fictional universes i would like to live in: that's....really hard, honestly. i don't know, but if i had to choose: 1, harry potter bc i wanna explore hogwarts dammit; 2, the world in the game monument valley cuz wow those graphics are so pretty (the world of sky: children of the light too); and 3, this wonderland-based world i created a couple months ago lol (yes i'm biased but also i did a Lot of worldbuilding and i think it's really cool >:>)

tagging: @charlesjosephwrites, @belialwrites, @ryns-ramblings, @oasis-of-you, @djthedumbass, @iwantadamusername, @kittycatinblue, and anyone who wants to join :D

#tag games #in case you havent noticed im very indecisive and very rambly sdfjhsduifhse #feel free to (read: Please) send me asks abt books and songs and stuff lol #and/or asks about my wips cuz. yknow. i have a lot of those lmao and status updates sound fun #basically: Send Me Asks lmao #im sorry ryn idk why i cant tag you T-T #long post #my wifi died so many times while i was writing this SJDFNISUD

5 notes · View notes