is he idiot or what

I hate your face, it makes my heart skip a beat [3/?]

Chapter 1, 2


“Do you know you are mumbling under your breath right now?”

Isak looks up from his notes to look at his biology partner, Sana who is giving him her usual amused, knowing look. He’d dislike her for it if it weren’t for the fact that he enjoyed her sass and general everything a lot. While their partnership had started off rocky when he came back to school, in the last month, he could honestly say that he couldn’t ask for a better partner even if they didn’t always agree on biology results. But then they both had a tendency of being stubborn.

“I am not.”

“You are,” she argues, raising an eyebrow. “You said ‘cocky idiot thinks because he’s hot he can do what he wants.’”

Isak startles hard at that, blushing red hot. “Please tell me I didn’t say that.”

Sana’s mouth twitches, the corners quirking upwards. “Why would I make that up? What did he do this time?”

Isak blinks at her trying to adopt a clueless expression. “Who?”

Sana gives him an utterly unimpressed look in return, and Isak wonders when he got so bad at lying, there use to be a time when he was good at it, after all, everyone he knew had actually believed he was straight once. “That’s cute, but you know the ‘dumb blonde’ act is just a stereotype, it’s not a real thing.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Isak insist, but like he said if there was one thing Sana and he had in common it was stubbornness.

“Fine,” she says easily, way too quickly.

Isak narrows his eyes. “That’s it, you’re dropping it?”

“Yeah,” Sana says with an indifferent shrug. “If you don’t want to talk about Even and the weird mating ritual you two have that will more than likely end up in hate sex, we don’t have to talk about it. You’re my friend, and I respect you, shall we get back to the wonderful world of bacteria?”

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Best without context. Good luck in your new body

-

HERE’S SOME CONTEXT:

FIRST PANEL: THE HUMAN, HAUNTED BY THE FOLLY OF HIS OWN ACTUALITY, SEEKS GUIDANCE AND MEANING BY RETURNING TO THE PLACE WHERE HE WAS BROUGHT SCREAMING INTO AN AGONIZING WORLD.

SECOND PANEL: THE HUMAN BEHIND THE FRONT DESK STARES BLANKLY AT HIM WITH HER EYELESS SOCKETS, BLOOD AND PURULENCE DRIPPING DOWN HER RUDDY CHEEKS. WITH A SHAKING ARM, SHE POINTS TO A FRAMED PAINTING OF A SERENE AGRICULTURAL SCENE. THE MEANING IS LOST TO HIS WITHERING MIND.

THIRD PANEL: THE HUMAN EVENTUALLY STUMBLES UPON ANOTHER HUMAN AFTER SEVERAL MONTHS OF TORTUOUS NAVIGATION THROUGH THE TWISTING HALLWAYS AND MATTERLESS ROOMS OF THE HOSPITAL. HE ASKS WHAT HIS PURPOSE IS.

“YOU IDIOT. YOU UGLY LITTLE MORON.” THE OTHER HUMAN RESPONDS, “DON’T YOU SEE YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A VILE AMALGAM OF CELLS AND CARBON? THERE IS NO MEANING OR PURPOSE IN THIS CHAOTIC WORLD.”

FOURTH PANEL: THE HUMAN, BURDENED BY THIS ANSWER AND HIS EXPERIENCE, MANIPULATES TIME AND RETURNS TO THE VERY PLACE OF HIS BIRTH HOURS BEFORE THE SENSELESS EVENT TOOK PLACE. HE HAS MADE HIS DECISION. HE HOVERS OVER HIS WEEPING MOTHER, HANDS POISED AND INCHES TOWARDS HER NECK.

THE END

2

me @ those haters who’re trying to smear super junior members

Honestly the amount of people who think Neil and Matt are dating is probably ridiculous. Then there are those risky people that think Neil, Matt, and Dan are in a polyamorous relationship.

Neil is so confused when someone asks about his boyfriend and he’s like “how did you know Andrew and I are together?”

I will never be over Sherlock Holmes practically pleading with Molly Hooper to say “I love you” to him.

One more thought (but by no means the last) on the subject of John Watson

You know when you’re head over heels in love with someone and you find all of their little quirks endearing even though you pretend to be irritated by them, or even when you are irritated by then, it somehow stops mattering anyway? But then something goes wrong - you realise it’s never going to happen and that no matter how many other people you date (or even marry), you’re never going to stop feeling that way, and then all of those quirks suddenly become things that make you fly into a rage, whether or not they’re really deserved? 

That’s John’s deal. 

  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Yoongi:</b> I've decided to live on my own.<p/><b>Jimin:</b> Okay, good.<p/><b>Taehyung:</b> Do what you want.<p/><b>Yoongi:</b> Your luggage are outside.<p/></p><p/></p>

best case scenario: it’s nothing.
he dropped his bag to help someone out,
it got moved out of the way,
he’ll turn up and start bitching about tears and dirt stains,
you’ll tell him to shut the hell up, even though he won’t listen,
he never listens,
and you’ll hang on to every word as he keeps talking.
(this is unlikely. he wouldn’t set that bag down,
wouldn’t abandon any of his things even if
the world was burning)

next best scenario: someone stole it.
he’ll be battered and bruised,
because no one got that bag without a fight,
and you’ll tell him what a fucking idiot he is.
he’ll make some joke,
he always does,
and you’ll remind him again of how much you hate him.
he’ll remind you of how much you don’t.
(this is slightly less unlikely, but be realistic—
he wouldn’t give up any of his things even if he were burning)

okay, next best: he ran.
“best” is a relative term here,
“best” implies it’s anything good but really your chest
has never felt so fractured and the ground is tilting and everything is
wrong.
maybe he ran. is that why he asked you to let him go?
why he insisted he be set free?
(this is even less unlikely. it borders on likely, be honest.
he’d throw all his things to the wind if he felt like he was burning)

next best: he was taken.
you know he’s perched on a throne of lies,
buried in his own secrets of a past he tried to torch.
he isn’t safe, he never was, never was going to be,
no matter what you had to say about it.
stopshakingstopshakingstopshaking thisisn'thelping—
you hate him. you hate him so much. you hate
that you hurt for him.
(this is likely. this is very likely.
he’d never let his things go unless you were burning.)

worst case scenario: he’s dead.

—  if you were really amazing you wouldn’t have let him go // es
[fic] we can go halfers on the consequence

desperate to get the too-dense leo to notice him, guanghong agrees to a fake relationship with phichit to make him jealous - so why’s seunggil the one acting so weird? a tale of romantic incompetence, cultural confusion, and asians being allergic to feelings.

(on ao3)

“In the dictionary, the definition of ‘flirt’ is just my picture,” Guanghong says.

“I don’t think you’re a flirt,” Phichit says from the other end of the phone.

“Not the noun,” Guanghong says. He’s nineteen and has never been on a date - he’s definitely not a flirt. “What does 'to flirt’ mean?”

“Well, flirting is basically telling someone you like them without actually telling them, right?”

“Exactly,” Guanghong says. “That’s my specialty.”

“This is about Leo, isn’t it.”

Guanghong groans and flops back onto his pillows. Phichit laughs. “You should just tell him.”

“That’s not what the magazines say,” Guang mumbles. He covers his face with his hands. “And I’m too shy.”

He’s not sure when it began, but it’s been a while since he started crushing on his best friend. Every touch feels like static crackling on his skin and makes his heart beat as fast as love songs say they should. When the realisation finally hit him, he avoided talking to Leo for weeks, unable to even form a coherent English sentence around him. He’d only blurted the truth out to Phichit after Phichit confronted him, concerned about the state of their friendship.

Guanghong apologised to Leo, saying he’d been busy (this through text because he was still playing hide-and-seek with his grammar every time Leo was around), and they returned to their normal patterns.

Well, mostly normal. Along with English, eye contact seems to be one of the skills Guanghong’s feelings conveniently threw down a well. Sometimes, he finds his gaze lingering on Leo, unable to stop looking at the nape of his neck, his collarbones and clavicle, his calloused hands and long fingers. Other times, he can’t make eye contact without his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Maybe you haven’t done enough,” Phichit suggests.

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