#just overanalyzing things as per usual

[emeritus-fuckers]

how do you do, fellow queers, look how fucking professional i'm being this time, sending an ask like commonfolk/j

for the match-up re-run bc i wanna see nyx struggle with repugnant <3

1. Your identity! i'm sorry for the research nyx

i can very proudly call myself a faggot. my pronouns are they/she/he/xey/per/ghoul, but i'm slowly moving away from the "standard" ones. multigender, but they're all xenogender (ghoulgender, ghoulettegender, gooregender, chaosgender). multisexual (pansexual, asexual, lesbian, aegosexual, orchidsexual, berrisexual). aroallo (aegoromantic, desinoromantic, grayromantic, demiromantic). autistic. theistic satanist.

2. Who do you like?

repugnant. death metal racoons my beloved.

3. What do you look like?

there's a picture. i just dress more like a metalhead now. still wearing too much jewelry. i'm still short (it is a tragedy).

4. What's your personality?

i hate whoever came up with these questions (ekhem, myself).

ISTP-T, according to a quiz i did just before writing this. i'm relatively apathetic, only ever getting truly emotional when i'm overwhelmed. touch-repulsed, but touch-starved when it comes to people close to me. i'm quiet and distant around strangers, but get talkative and open with friends. i struggle with serious self-esteem issues (diagnosed depression, cheers) and i get very anxious about my friends just not liking me anymore and usually need to be yelled at to get my shit together. and then cuddled because i got yelled at. my relationship with emotions is complicated, as i only feel a very faint outline of an emotion most of the time, but i've learned to adapt to it over time and i'm pretty good at adapting my behavior so it looks like i feel a complete emotion.

when it comes to affection, i'm like a cat. i love it, but only when i want it. otherwise i will run away. i also show it in inconvenient ways, i suppose, like randomly grabbing my friends with a weird noise or sometimes (if we're really close) biting them. i feel very uncomfortable around most children, so i despise them.

5. Tell us about your interests!

i'd say repugnant, ghost and in this moment would be my top three bands to listen to, but i also like vocaloid and dolly parton. i always have to have something playing in the background or it's too quiet for me and i lose my shit. i like to read, but i much prefer to overanalyze everything and come up with ridiculous theories and headcanons to write about (i think emeritus-fuckers is proof of that). I like writing, but only stuff i actually enjoy writing, not whatever bullshit they're coming up with for uni. I can't write porn, yet people seem to think that i can, which is honestly hilarious to me.

i like making bracelets and other arts and crafts things, though i suck at it and usually it looks like trash.

i like video games, mostly sims 4 (finally figured out how to furnish it hallelujah) right now, but i like classic assassin's creed games (which means everything that came out before Origins/Odyssey bc fuck i hate these), the saints row series and skyrim too. and uncharted, too. and i guess tekken, but i'm just there for the hotties tbh.

i don't really watch movies, but if i had to pick a favorite, it would either be scream, pearl or shrek.

6. Trivia time!

i know way too much about butterflies and moths.

i have a framed attacus atlas.

my favorite food is instant cupped carbonara.

i have a dog (everyone has seen her at this point tbh).

i have a figurine of the batman who laughs and his three robins.

i love juice. especially apple-cherry juice.

i'm a terrible cook, i can make like three dishes and that's it.

i hate working under pressure and/or with deadlines.

i have a rather controversial sense of humor.

i love wearing too much jewelry.

i adore matching things, from jewelry to tattoos.

and here's a few pics of my cuddle monster.

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is…Mary Goore... and DD Sars... and kinda the rest of the band...

Hear me out on this haha, I have spent way too much time thinking about this and well you'll see XD - Nyx

So you met Mary first. They thought you looked cool so they went over to you.

You got chatting and you just kinda clicked with each other. Especially since you both have a controversial sense of humour. Mary enjoys throwing a few playful insults at you and getting all of that back and some.

You met up a few more times, enough so that you became comortable around Mary and them you. Although there was a discussion about your boundaries when you had to explain that you are like a cat, you only want affection when you are in the mood. Which of course Mary respected.

Mary after really getting to know you declared you one of their favourite ever people by lightly biting your shoulder. (This was okay as you way of telling them the same was to display your affection with a bite.)

Mary then proudly introduced you to the rest of the band. You quickly became close with all of them as to be with Mary is to be with the band. When Mary mentioned you had a dog E. wanted to see lots of pictures. He just kinda quietly sat there as you scrolled through them.

You made them all bracelets, G. got very excited by this. You said they look like trash and DD just kinda rounded on you. He firmly told you about how they weren't trash and how could you be so stupid to think so low of yourself. You just kinda nodded and then spend the rest of the day being cuddled by G.

DD does however get you. He never says it to you but its shown through his actions. He will just quitly sit and listen if you want to talk about it. He might say that you are a fucking weirdo but his expression tells the real story. He understands you and he knows what its like to have a complicated realtionship with emotions. There is a really nice companionship you two have because of this.

Mary noticed how you look at DD like you want him to sit on your face. So one night they say to you while pointing at DD "all you have to do is ask, you know, DD would be more than happy to" and then they gave you a little wink. Mary left it with you, it's totally up to you if you want to follow through on that or not...

~

Written by Nyx

[scrion7]

waterborne poetry's poetry: 1/?

Alright. We've got an entire event dedicated to my favorite two brats doing poetry together, so of course I'm gonna completely overanalyze them for no reason.

Disclaimer: Venti and Hu Tao are clearly meant and intended to be read as platonic besties. However, that sign cannot stop me from shipping it a little because I am clinically insane for these two. I may be a little biased as a result.

Also note that the original Chinese is extremely likely to have additional meanings that were lost in translation.

Knowing Venti's, uh, Venti-ness, it would not surprise me if this is actually Hu Tao making fun of a specific incident with Drunk Venti. It's a little too specific to be anything else. It could also be a long winded dig at the resident blockhead, by combining Mora with earth in a less than elegant way. Venti would absolutely be amused by that, which may be why she said it.

I love the fact that Hu Tao decides to completely spontaneously jump into verse for basically no reason other than to set up the Traveler to guess that they're doing poetry.

As for the poem itself, a couple lines stand out. "Two's company but three's a crowd" is a fairly common idiom meaning that a third person is unwelcome. In this context, it seems to refers to how the Traveler and Paimon prefer to travel with only each other, which is an odd thing to imply for such a character driven game. It is a distinct possibility that this line is actually about how the Traveller (& Paimon) just butted into Venti and Hu Tao's conversation... but that doesn't make sense considering the two were here to invite Xiao along, which would make Xiao the unwanted third wheel, which doesn't make sense. Especially considering it's heavily implied that they were waiting for the Traveler to come along in order to better convince Xiao. (yes it's also VenTao crumbs but I like HuXiaoVen just as much)

"often at sixes and sevens" is (according to Google) an English idiom meaning confused or disorganized. In this instance, Hu Tao is implying that the Traveler often has no idea what they're doing, which is perfectly in character for gremlin Hu Tao.

'Pieces of eight' is derived from (again according to Google) the Spanish Dollar coin, which could be physically divided into eight pieces for change. It's also heavily associated with pirates, which makes sense paired with "countless other treasures."

"They clearly must have nine lives" is clearly Hu Tao implying the Traveler is a catboy/catgirl, there's obviously no other reason why she said that other than Hu Tao being creepy as per usual.

Paimon: What the... It just gets worse and worse!

Venti: immediately makes it worse.

Sidenote, Venti seamlessly picking up what Hu Tao is putting down is friendship/relationship goals.

As for Venti's side of the poem; "dressed to the nines" is a fairly common idiom meaning that the guests will be in formal outfits, which is a shame considering there weren't any released with the event. Also, by rhyming nines, fine, and wines, Venti is implying that he's gonna be drinking nine fine wines tonight, which is perfectly in character.

"Eight long drinks and seven shorts," combined with those nine wines, does not imply Venti's got seven pairs of pants. In this context, shorts are something similar to a shot, with tall drinks being the opposite.

"Four corners of the world" is another fairly common idiom implying the Traveler has been everywhere which...they haven't yet. Still, 5/7 isn't too bad.

"one speech each" is just a great rhyme, in my opinion. Still, it is odd that Venti's speech has WAY more rhymes that Hu Tao's, although that might just be a cultural difference. Shout out to the localization team for making these poems too!

[part 2 link coming soon (tm)]

[violetsiren90]

Warning! My message is a lot longer than I actually meant to write.

What? No, no.. I'm not one to rush people into replying back. I am just the person who tends to have very good long term memories but bad short term memories. I don't know why my mind processes like that.

But I've had low battery lately, I haven't been social with anyone lately either. I haven't said or done much lately because of being so drained.

So no complaints from me.

When it comes to the actual obsessive compulsive disorder, the real disorder (not the "other" compulsive disorder)... I have mild obsessive compulsive signs and symptoms. Intrusive thoughts and ruminations are some signs, organizational and ritualistic habits, contamination - could explain my mild germaphobia. Basically every sign or symptom you could think of with obsessive compulsive disorder, just more mild though. At least maybe a milder diagnosis than yours? I don't know.

True. That's the whole complex situation involving characters in every fictional story you've ever read. People complain that they want some more representation, yet complain that the character is too Mary Sue for them to enjoy the story. Original characters (who do actually have face claims) are rare now, which is understandable for certain people, since you'd have visuals of the character and detailed backstories too - if you're the type of person who doesn't mind reading any character like that. Even insert characters could be a hit or miss for people too.

I was joking. Well... Kind of. Not that it would be noticeable over some screen rather than in person. But yes! When it comes to people who's short, or disabled, or whichever person you are. Having certain things on higher shelves does become frustrating. I know you could ask a lot of people for help, if they're considerate to people strangers, but it's a really annoying thing to do. Always relying on people to help you with whatever you might need help with. I'd really hate asking for help too.

Sadly, for me, I don't know how to create content like that.. I probably am the only person who doesn't know how to make edited pictures or gifs, banners, any visuals. So I doubt any visual content will be seen.

But arsonist Jack would still be an interesting story either way if you'll have good ideas to write for the story. An arsonist, a serial killer. I may be able to imagine Jack as a split personality. Wait.. Did I say this yet? Did I say that before? I can't remember. That can be another concept.

The xNTx in me enjoys overanalyzing everything that comes to mind.

Like I said.. I could easily imagine just about everyone being assigned to more than one sin and virtue but I'm only assigning one per person though. And this is just what I've noticed whenever people write a Sin universe concept. I rarely see Yoongi as any other sin besides Sloth so he would be Sloth and Diligence for me. Most of the time, I would just see people assign Pride to Jin or Namjoon. Jin seems slightly more of Pride than anyone else? In a good and bad way. But I think the reason many people assign Namjoon with Pride since he is the leader of BTS (not that he couldn't be prideful). But I would always see Jin assigned as either Pride or Gluttony, both seem fitting for his character. Joon is usually assigned to Pride, Greed, Gluttony, and maybe one other sin I can't remember. The sins could easily be assigned to any of them too.

I know just about everyone in the group says that Hope and Jimin are the scariest when angry. JHope could easily represent the Wrath and Patience in general. But I could also imagine him as Envy, Gluttony or Greed too. I see people assign him as Wrath, Greed, Gluttony or Envy.

Most of the time Lust is usually either Jimin or Taehyung in stories I'd seen. Jimin, Taehyung or Jungkook could easily be Lust in my mind.

Jimin is usually assigned Lust, Envy, Greed or Wrath in stories. Which I could also imagine? I know that I'm basically repeating myself now.

Taehyung's assigned Lust, Envy, Greed and even Wrath too. Between Jimin and Taehyung, there's roles are always switched between them from what I've noticed. But I guess it depends on how you write them too, like how you might want that sin and virtue represented in work.

Jungkook has been assigned just about every sin at some point so I'd say that isn't really surprising though.. But the sins I see assigned him the most are usually Gluttony or Greed, even Wrath - there is so many people I see assign him as Wrath that I've seen, and sometimes Envy.

Though I might have a slight twisted concept on sin of the sins. Like.. Envy, Lust, Greed and Wrath. So hopefully my explain makes sense.

"Greed may not be good, but its not so bad either. You humans think greed is just for money and power, but everyone wants something they don't have."

"You humans think greed is only about money and power. But don't forget: everybody wants something they don't have. So I want money, women, status, fame, and everything else in this world! And I want eternal life." Greed may be a neutral antihero character? But I'm still thinking about that though. So I'm not completely sure on that.

Before you ask, if you ask, this version of Greed would be inspired by inspired by an actual character so that's not even an original concept.

And Lust. Regardless of who represents Lust, obviously Lust's always going to represent sexual lust but not just sexual lust either since lust could mean many things. Lust for sex, power, people and materials - I know this is sounding like Gluttony and Greed. But what about lust as in bloodlust? Just combining the concept of lust as sex and violence.

Wrath is character that I could have many ways of portraying... Wrath is traditionally portrayed as hot explosive anger which could be a way for that character to express their temperament. But in my opinion to a character like Wrath, I could also imagine to other versions of Wrath that doesn't always have to represent explosive anger. There is two of these possible outcomes for Wrath. One: A really cold, calculated and deliberate anger. So the complete opposite of hot explosive anger. I'd say imagine a lot of your favorite mafia men (or maybe this is just me) in this scenario; those men are usually cold, calculated, deliberating a plan of revenge against their enemies in some way or another. Like as in Yoongi in Haegeum (but that doesn't mean I could not actually just write his character, and the other BTS boys, like that in mafia stories). And two: A self-hatred and inwardly turned Wrath, and this longing to be released from this feeling to find inner peace. “It’s about being relentlessly hard on yourself and no matter what you do and how much you improve, you will never be as perfect as you wish, because perfection is an illusion.” So this is why I am having too many conflicting thoughts on who portrays the Wrath in my story. Or, unless, in some way, I could combine every wrath into one character.

And as for Envy. There's two ways I could portray Envy's character, so I might attempt to combine both versions. Obviously envy means one person is envious, jealous, covetous of other people and materials. So that stays. But what happens if people are also envious of Envy? Like, “Being resistant to other peoples hurtful words and actions. They might leave some bruises but they won’t get under your skin. It’s about never giving up and reminding that every hate stems from fear, insecurity, mistrust or malevolence.” Envy could still be some envious character, while other characters are also envious at the same time. It is still a concept I'm working on. But I might need to figure details out for certain characters. Though these are just some ideas right now.

And I don't know what the concept will be yet.. Maybe supernatural? I don't know. There are so many universes I can see this happening in a lot of the time so I might be fickle about the universe at the moment.

Though.. Not sure if I'll do this for the Sins & Virtues concept, or even a supernatural concept in general, but I would love to use Taehyung's visuals of him covered in tattoos. The Shadow Like Me, with the vines and tree looking tattoos. I'd love to use that appearance for a story.

Oh good! I tend to neglect social media when I get overwhelmed with life, and I just never want anyone to think I forgot about them!

On the Yale-Brown OCD scale I scored as severe at the time I was diagnosed. But I'm happy for you that yours is more mild, because it's just no fun!

You're very right, one could definitely assign any pairing for any member as far as the seven deadly sins/virtues goes. It's so fun in characterization to decide if you're going to lean into a person's known traits or if you're going to attempt to pull lesser explored sides out of them!

I have heard a lot that Hobi and Jimin are the scariest when mad. It's so interesting though, because I really think that also boils down to what you're afraid of? When I think of who would be the scariest when mad, I think Yoongi and Namjoon. Why? Because at his unhealthiest, I feel Yoongi would be the most likely to go silent-treatment/ice you out. And with Namjoon I feel like his anger would manifest strongly as disappointment. Scream at me, cuss me out, throw my shit down the stairs. But give me the silent treatment? Say you are disappointed in me?? (I'm kidding, by the way, screaming/words of degradation/physical violence of any sort are obviously abusive behaviors that should never be tolerated)

But yeah, I can see people being more afraid of their mood shift because it would be so jarring in contrast to their typical presenting persona.

I like the idea of Greed extending beyond the socioeconomic "miser" trope. I see what you're saying with basing Greed on a kind of hunger that can be a driving force (Like in J-Hope's song "More"? 👀).

And it's interesting that you correlate Lust and Greed, because they can seem so similar, right? But I feel like Lust comes from a basal function whereas Greed comes from a higher neurological function. Also, Greed seems to use acquisition as a means to an end, like, getting something to possess it. Whereas with lust, the ACT of taking, not having, seems to be the actual end goal. Lust is uncomplicated - a craving. Even if it's an insatiable one. Greed is more complex, even if it's basic, right? I have no idea if I'm making sense WHATSOEVER lololllllll. I'm probably (definitely) overthinking it. But I love tearing apart philosophical concepts like that! (Anyone who has an actual education in philosophy, please do not perceive me at this or any other time, lol).

Wrath is so interesting too, because it seems like anger that is specifically linked to demanding a kind of payment for its satisfaction, and usually a destructive/punitive one. So, you're right, it could be a cold and calculated cruelty or a heated and passionate rage. Though I never thought about Wrath in the sense of springing from a place of self-hatred, but that is such an interesting concept for a character as well!

I think that's interesting, about Envy. As opposed to Greed, Envy would seem to stem from a place of deep dissatisfaction with the self. Whereas Greed is focused on the object of acquisition, Envy is focused on the individual and the circumstances of the individual that the thing to be acquired must be taken from/modeled after. Like, Greed wants a sports car for the very sake of adding another car to the collection. Envy wants a sports car because individual X has a sports car and Envy seeks to emulate that person's life and in the hopes of self/social satisfaction. In a similar vein of distinction, Lust desires their friend's partner from a place of actual primal craving, disregarding the tenants of friendship in the name of satisfying a basic desire. Whereas Envy desires their friend's partner due to desiring a life like their friend's for themselves.

AAAHHHHH SO INTERESTING TO TRY AND DISTINGUISH NUANCES IN HUMAN BEHAVIOR AND MOTIVATION.

You've unleashed a monster in me, lol.

AND OH - Tae in tattoos??? Specifically that sort. *chef's kiss*

Sorry I got carried away with the philosophical blabbering - feel free to jot it down under topics to NEVER bring up with Violet lest you be met with word-vomit, lol.

But also, I've seen one too many reels today of Yoongi consuming a banana in a way that could be argued is the Eighth Deadly Sin, so my brain is at, like 2% functionality right now. 😅

[riviae]

sapkowski really robbed us of more interactions btwn dandelion & regis for no reason, huh? like you’ve got arguably the (2) nosiest ppl in the series who both happen to be good friends of geralt & ur telling me they didn’t end up chatting more?? where’s dandelion’s slowly growing admiration & trust in regis after nearly fainting at the revelation of regis’ true nature?

dandelion was (though somewhat rudely) also the only one really brave enough to question regis/his past, even if his methods of doing so were a bit obtuse. like we get a whole masterclass on regis/vampires in the witcher universe /because/ dandelion, out of understandable fear, not so subtly asks if regis drinks blood or needs to drink blood to survive.

obviously dandelion is more open-minded than most characters (he’s friends with geralt, after all), but what a shock that must’ve been. sure, a witcher isn’t human, but they aren’t really monsters either. they have one foot in, one foot out so to speak, spanning both categories, sometimes being shoved in one role or the other depending on their actions. geralt had always been human to dandelion. remember, dandelion is a scholar, has heard all the discourse & philosophy surrounding what makes someone human, & he chooses to follow geralt, to tell his story, to be his friend when no one else would.

but regis? regis is terror personified. a monster in the shape of a man, masquerading so well that not even a trained witcher notices the cracks in his persona. at first, dandelion is worried—& for good reason. regis has lived centuries, spent centuries behaving like a monster. he has no reason to believe that regis is genuinely a changed man, not even after he’s fixed up his head wound bc surely a vampire could play some sort of long con? to kill them all once he’s gained all of the hansa’s trust, smiling a cruel, sharp smile.

but then geralt trusts him & everything shifts. dandelion’s trust in geralt allows him to slowly learn to trust regis after his true identity is revealed. all i’m saying is that for as much as the witcher games parody dandelion’s character to that of a cowardly womanizing player w/ questionable morals, he’s so not these things. of all the characters in the series, he’s the first who befriends geralt w/o any ulterior motive. who is so unaplogetically himself. who loves music & wine & the finer things in life, but chooses to follow geralt on the path anyway. & that actually makes him fairly brave, doesn’t it?

[watch-grok-brainrot]

can i enquire your opinion on what i perceive as misuse of the words "zhiji" / "zhiyin" by western authors? it's often translated as soulmates, or even used synonymously, and for wx, often in romantic situations to fulfil non romantic soulmate fic tropes. i often get a bit frustrated by it. zhiji and zhiyin are both bosom friends, people who get you, appreciate you but they are not the western term of soulmates. what do you think? seeking perspectives to shape my opinion!!! thank you!!

nonny! I am so sorry! I meant to answer this the week you sent this and then i kept on getting sidetracked and forgot. >.> this is why i don’t get asks. i’m terrible at answering things. 

First of all, for those who are reading this and not nonny, i’m assuming you are either familiar with chinese or have read the blog post by @/hunxi-guilai by now. If you are not chinese and/or have not read her blog, go to her blog and go to linguistic meta and then read the post titled “ all right guys, let’s have a conversation about soulmates ” (gonna delete the link if i can’t get this to show up in tags since this is a nonny ask i want nonny to be able to find this... )

ok. now that we’re on the same page, let’s talk about translation. translation is messy. cultures don’t have the same concepts. when expressing words as complex as 知己/ 知音, you do what you can. 

do i think soulmates is an acceptable translation? yes. i would not hesitate to call wangxian soulmates. 

Is 知己/ 知音 inherently romantic? no.

do i think the connotations of 知己/知音 and the connotations of soulmates match perfectly? no. 

am i fine with fanfiction authors writing what they want? yeah. if i don’t like it, i just won’t engage with the material. it’s the idgaf of old age that i’m really glad i acquired. i can just nope right out and go find something i prefer. e.g. if i see a baobei in a wangxian fic, i usually nope right now. it’s not worth getting worked up over. lol. 

yes 知己/ 知音 are bosom friends but it’s deeper than that, right? 

Actually, i’m really glad i’ve waited. I’ve just binged Word of Honor (or what eps are currently out) and they toss out 知己/ 知音 a lot -- as they should. The show is spectacular (thus far 25 of 36 eps are out and i am dying at how amazing the main CP interactions are). Basically my heart is full of  知己/ 知音 mood so i think i can do a better job of explaining what it means to me now. 

To me, 知己/ 知音 is knowing someone/hearing someone so deeply that your souls are in sync. It’s being open and vulnerable. The mortifying ordeal of being KNOWN and/or HEARD. it’s joyous to discover that your eccentricities are understood implicitly. it’s stolen cheeky grins and stupid laughs that makes you feel alive again. It’s precious and rare and if you get one person in your life that REALLY knows/hears or tries to know/to hear you, you are lucky. this can be part of a romantic or platonic relationship. 

someone wants to call that a soulmate? sure. by all means. 

But if I were to see it in a novel or show I was trying to translate, I may translate it differently each time. The beauty of translation is, as the translator, I have the power (and the terrible responsibility) to interpret a work. My choices will be the text moving forward. My diction, if the only translation around, could be overanalyzed by a portion of the fandom. So would i always translate  知己/ 知音 as soulmates? no. Sometimes I might say say, “You’re the only person to know me truly.” or “To be truly heard in this life by one person is enough.” or I might say “soulmate” sometimes. 

so, i guess i do agree that soulmates limits the translation of the concept. but if you’re watching a show and there are subs, the subbers have more than meaning to worry about. you have to consider characters per second: 1) physically focusing on words with one’s eyes and then reading them takes time; 2) some people are much slower readers than others. (subbers also have to consider sentence structure and how to breakup a lines. and, depending on the show, sometimes the subs come out at an INSANE pace. it’s approximately 3-4 hrs of translation work once you have the chinese in front of you for a 20ish min ep if you’re being neurotic and probably just as much if not more of timing work to get an episode out. not to mention the translation checks and quality checks. so sometimes shortcuts are required... but i digress...) Is soulmates a good, succinct way to get the message across? yes. so i’m fine with it. and if it captures peoples’ imagination and brings someone joy, then even better. 

fandom should be fun. it should be happy. it should be a place where you grow and meet people that bring you joy. :) so am i upset that it’s the preferred translation of the mdzs/cql fandom? not really. it’s not perfect but it’s good enough for fandom (and horseshoes and hand grenades as people would say). 

[titleknown]

“GUESS WHO’S BACK FUCKERS?!”

-Anonymous radio broadcast

----------

Who is this electrifying figure? More on them, after the break!

It was perhaps unsurprising that Dr. Mr. Peanut, a biological supercomputer who ended up creating distorted horrifying advertising monsters, would come back from the dead. They are, after all, based on a seed-bearing plant.

What was slightly more surprising is that they would come back so soon. But come back soon they did, and their first monster was Killerwatt, an electrical horror suspended in air. They not only can do the usual lightning tricks, but also tend to emphasize the use of electromagnetism, such as shielding itself from metallic projectiles and launching metallic projectiles back at the things it was shielding from.

And that;s even before we get into the gargantuan “plasma knife” it can produce (Most memorably used in a swordfight with Blue Bull) and its most civillian-dangerous power, its ability to absorb electricity! Not only do most kaiju with electrical attacks have difficulty dealing with it, but LPTs are even more useless than usual, cities are blacked out even before it does its major damage, making evacuation efforts a nightmare. And that major damage is, apparently, part of its agenda as an “advertising” monster.

Because, it always goes to destroy the utility services first. Which means they have to build more. Which, if you’ve seen that John Oliver segment, you know that leads to a lot of profits in the utility companies’ banks. Which, while they have not made any official statements, they sure aren’t complaining.

But, the creature does have a fair few exploitable weaknesses. The electricity that makes up its “body” is not its actual body. That would be the lightbulb with the eye in it, channeling itself through the “boots” and glove that serve as more-or-less-extremely complex lightning rods. And that bulb, while it is proportionately a small target, is still very weak and vulnerable.

Which is perhaps why the creature has such a neurotic, meticulous personality. For, while it may seem coldly logical, calculating and overanalyzing every move it makes in both infrastructure destruction and combat, when it feels it has something to fear, its temperament changes to something approximately akin to a chihuahua in the face of a vaccuum cleaner.

This is not helped when it ends up facing Bash, because of the fact that one might think that Bash’s electrical powers might not help in the face of Killerwatt, one would be wrong. Bash finds their energy constructs delicious.

They, unsurprisingly, have a crippling fear of Bash...

--------

...So, you can probably guess this was inspired by Reddy Kilowatt. Who just became public domain just this year, so huzzah! And also by Kinecticlops from Rise of the Monsters, which I sadly have not played…

...And yes I am well aware the Real Ghostbusters also used this name, but you can’t copyright an obvious pun god dammt!

On that note, as per usual with Kaijune, this electric fiend is free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

And, if you wanna support me, maybe check out my Patreon (Tho it's more of a tip jar for now as I work towards stabilizing my new living situation), or even just send a Ko-Fi my way! Every penny is appreciated, and I am eternally grateful for those who donate!

Or, if you wanna commission me for a pic like this, my commission info is thisaway!

[freelancearsonist]

If Something Happens to Me

Poe Dameron x fem!Reader

Rated MA for graphic sexual content, friends with benefits except they’re in ✨love✨, and bad language

2,191 words

A/N: This is a commission for the lovely @foxilayde​! Thank you so much for giving me this wonderful idea ☺️ I hope it’s what you were looking for! 💛

It’s easier this way.

You don’t have the time to go out on dates and see the galaxy. And you’re honestly not sure that you’re in the right mindset to do that even if you could. This is perfect exactly the way it is. Poe’s your best friend—he gives you everything that you could ever need emotionally. And he gives you everything you could ever need physically. Everyone on base jokes about the two of you being a couple, and they don’t even know about the benefits that the two of you agreed upon sharing. It’s the next best thing. And it works.

At least, you think it does.

Doubt seeps in through the smallest gestures.

His hand on the small of your back when a new pilot flirts with you at the cantina.

His lips on your neck when you could be caught.

All the pet names that he doesn’t really have the right to call you, but that you soak up like a sponge anyway.

The way your eyes search him out in every crowd, even if you know he won’t be there.

The way he breaks out in a smile every time his eyes land on you.

The way your heart flutters when he does.

The list goes on and on, no matter how clueless you decide to be. Maybe part of you knows that he returns your feelings even if he hasn’t said so, and so you aren’t that fussed about confronting them because you know there will be a better time to address it.

Whatever the answer is, you don’t want to overanalyze. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll lose your best friend—the man you might be in love with.

It isn’t unusual when he seeks you out in the mess hall. You eat together so regularly that everyone has just started leaving the corner table vacant for the two of you. Then again, it might just be one of those “commander’s privileges” things that he’s constantly bragging about. He adores pulling rank on you, after all. There’s a power dynamic to it that he loves when he’s deep inside you and can make you beg your commander for more.

So, no, it’s not unusual.

The unusual part is when Poe rushes up to you like he’s on fire and quickly tells you to meet him on the tarmac in ten minutes.

He’s gone before you can ask any questions, and you can’t help laughing at your best friend’s antics. He’s a ridiculous and eccentric man, and you love him for it.

You take your time to finish your meal before you head off in the direction of the ship bay, just shy of ten minutes since you last saw him.

Even from a distance, you can spot him. That ugly bright orange flight suit that looks terrible on everyone except him, and the mess of dark curls on his head. He’s gorgeous in every way, and even though you’re not exclusive per se, you’re glad that you have him all to yourself for the time being. He’s not yours, but you still feel lucky.

He’s leaning against the side of his x-wing, shifting his center of gravity back and forth between his feet, and if you didn’t know that Poe Dameron never outwardly displays his nerves you would almost say he’s worried about something.

He doesn’t spot you until you’re standing right in front of him, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Christ, Poe, what’s got you so wound up?” You laugh as you put a hand on his forearm to steady him.

“You.” 

Oh, merciful maker, you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes so dark before. He looks like he’s about to devour you. 

He sighs deeply before he answers you. “I’m so fucking horny, sweetheart.”

You practically snort at that. “When are you not?”

He gives you a look, equal parts serious and playful. “It’s different today. I... c-can I take you in my ship?”

Now this is something you’ve never done before. You know it’s something he’s wanted for a while—he’s brought it up on more than one occasion—but you don’t usually do a lot of fantasy exploration because your sex is supposed to only happen when you’re both desperate for a release. Supposed to, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Okay,” you nod, bottom lip dragged between your teeth in a vain attempt to mask just how turned on you’re getting at the prospect of making a mess inside his ship. “Do you... do you go up first?”

He hesitates for a long moment, as if he’s in some kind of trance-like state of disbelief that you actually want to do this, and then he nods eagerly.

He crawls up the ladder clumsier than usual, but you can’t blame him. You could spot his boner from a mile away, even fully-clothed. You’re curious what’s gotten him so worked up.

“Been thinkin’ about this since I landed.” He’s referring to the test flight he flew earlier—but whatever made him think of you during it, you’re not entirely sure. You don’t want to ask too many questions, though—might as well just take advantage of the situation. He wants you and you want him, so you’re more than happy to straddle his lap and eagerly press your lips to his. 

He whimpers into your kiss—he’s dominant in every way on the field, but he melts into putty every time he’s in your arms. It’s one of the many things you love about him—you love being able to take care of him. If anyone deserves a tender hand, it’s Poe Dameron. 

“Mmm, I can feel how hard you are,” you taunt gently. “Did you get yourself all worked up thinking about me?”

Maybe it’s a little bit of an overstep. After all, this is supposed to just be meaningless sex. A quick release between friends.

But you both know it’s so much more than that.

“For you,” he gasps, always the obedient little lover. He always knows exactly what you want to hear. “Fuck, I’ve needed you all morning.”

“You’ve got me now.”

His fingers make quick work of your top, and he’s reaching under your bra to roll your nipples between his fingers when you tug the zipper of his flight suit down just enough to reach in and start stroking his cock.

He always fills your palm so wonderfully—you had marveled at him for a number of minutes the first time you crossed this line of no return, worried that he wouldn’t even fit inside you. He’s so deliciously thick and long and textured and you’re worried that no one else will ever be able to satisfy you the way he does.

“Please, ohhhh fuck,” he gasps, head nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he rocks his hips into your generous grip.

“Does that feel good?” You ask gently, dipping your head down to suck at the corner of his jaw where you know he has a sweet spot. He moans at the slightest brush of your lips, hips bucking harder towards you, and he lets out the most beautiful whimper when you graze your teeth against the sensitive flesh.

“Fuck yes. I need to be inside you so bad baby, please...”

The cockpit is cramped and there isn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver—your best bet is to turn around to face away from him and shimmy your pants down as far as you can.

You’re sinking down on his thick length when you see something that momentarily distracts you from the delicious stretch of his cock inside your heat.

You gasp his name and as he buries his face into your neck and slowly starts rocking up into you, he doesn’t realize that it’s a question rather than a moan.

He notices that something’s wrong after a few long moments of you sitting completely still with his length buried to the hilt inside of you, though.

“Sweetheart, please...” he whimpers, desperate for even the smallest bit of friction.

“Poe...” you gasp again. You want to move—he feels so good inside you, and you know it’ll only take moments for him to unravel you—but you’re paralyzed as you reach forward and take the little, worn photograph from it’s place on the control panel. “Poe, what is this?”

It might be the least flattering photo of you in existence. It’s worn even though it’s hardly a year old—the kind of wear and tear that you would expect of a photo that’s been carried in someone’s back pocket for a matter of months. But why would he be carrying this particular photo around?

You remember exactly when it was taken. It was Poe’s thirty-first birthday, at the smallest party that you could pull together on short notice because he was supposed to be out on a mission at the time but managed to come home early.

You’d managed to convince the mess hall staff to throw together a small cake for him—another one of those commander’s privileges of his that you get to benefit from. It was just the two of you on the roof of one of the dorm buildings, sharing the plate-sized cake underneath the stars while BB-8 relayed Poe’s latest mission to you in very dramatic beeps and bloops.

Poe’s smile was constant as he watched you with dreamy eyes—his girl, whether it was official or not. He knew you were as much his as he was yours—completely and undeniably.

He noticed a little spot of frosting on your lip, and while the most primal section of his brain screamed at him to lick it away for you, he’s always been a child at heart—so he solved your frosting problem by adding to it.

And then, while he was delighting in your shocked squeal, BB-8 took the opportunity to snap a photo of you with his handy built-in camera. Poe has always been incredibly proud of his little aspiring photographer droid, but never as proud as he was when this particular photo was printed.

It’s not alluring or sexy by most standards, but Poe thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked. Eyes and smile wide, a sweet, buttercream mess on your face. He had to fight dreadfully hard to keep from saying “I love you” in that moment. And every moment since then, if he’s being honest.

He clears his throat before he speaks, unintentionally shifting beneath you and causing him to unintentionally hit something wonderful deep inside of you.

“It’s... a picture of you.”

“No shit,” you gasp. “Why... why do you have this?”

There’s no avoiding it now that you’ve found it. And since all of the blood in his body is currently diverted to his lower half, he isn’t capable of thinking up a good lie. He has to tell the truth right now, and he hopes and prays that it won’t upset you.

“You know how it is. Being in this fight, in this war... every day could be the last,” he sighs heavily. “And when I’m up there, when I’m flying... well, if something happened to me... I’d want your gorgeous face to be the last thing I see.”

Tears are falling from your eyes before he’s even finished speaking, because a part of you already knew. There aren’t many other reasons he’d have your photo in his x-wing.

You shudder and it pulls a moan from his lips before he can stop himself—every shift and movement only gives him the friction he’s been so desperately craving.

It’s a little awkward as you lift off of him and shuffle around to face him, but then you’re burrowed into his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around you as you muffle your sobs in the stiff fabric of his flight suit.

“I’m... is this too much? I can get rid of it if you want—“

“No,” you sniffle, nuzzling closer. “No, it’s just right.”

Poe gently guides your chin up, his free hand wiping away the stray tears that trail down your cheeks. And then his lips are on yours, softer and more passionate than you’ve ever felt, and it brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes because this is perfect. Nothing has ever felt more right than this moment, with that horrid cake photo in your hand and your lips on his.

“I love you,” he whispers when you pull back momentarily for air.

There’s no question in your mind anymore—no more trying to deny the truth. “I love you, too.”

He holds you closer than he’s ever held you until you’re full of him and you have to get out of the ship so as not to ruin the leather seat.

And then, when you’re fully dressed and on the ground, he holds you close again. This time, though, he doesn’t let you go. He doesn’t plan to for a very, very long time.

THE END

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[blackswan18]

Too Good To Be True - Ch. 10 | kth (m)

Summary: Kim Taehyung is a world famous idol in the hit K-pop group, BTS, and you are his personal stylist. Per your contract with BigHit, he is absolutely, 100% off-limits, and yet, you are completely and hopelessly in love with him. You’ve spent years trying to shove your feelings down, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore and hide them, especially considering the way Tae always treats you. He’s affectionate and protective and sometimes outright flirtatious, but that’s how he is with everyone, right? Confused, frustrated, and lovesick, you find yourself wondering if it might finally be worth risking your career and your heart to find out.

pairing: Taehyung x reader

genre: Idol! au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, friends to lovers, slow burn

rating: 18+

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, suggestive smut

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Chapter 10: Good Girl

Over the last two months, Tae had continued coming to the studio in the late afternoons when he had time. He had been doing much better lately which you were extremely grateful for. After breaking down with you in the studio that night, he’d opened up to the other members about how he was feeling and started seeing a therapist shortly after. The change didn’t happen overnight, there were still days where he struggled and seemed off, but he was clearly making progress which was all that mattered. 

Things between you and him had also been really good, the best they’d ever been, actually. You two were back to joking and laughing and getting yelled at by Mrs. Choi. regularly. He was also back saying sweet things and being affectionate, even more so than before. It was dangerous, you knew, to let yourself get caught up, but after months of him being so reserved and awkward around you, you couldn’t help but desperately crave those little moments with him.  

Even though you hadn’t talked about it specifically, it felt like you’d both finally moved past what happened after The Grammys. The experience you’d shared that night in the studio seemed to break down whatever wall had formed between the two of you and brought you even closer together. On the drive home that night you’d come to the realization that, in addition to being the unrequited love of your life, Tae was also your best friend. 

The guys were gearing up for yet another comeback; the tradeoff to not touring this year being that they would release twice as much music. They were also preparing to release their first all-English single, ‘Dynamite’, which is why Tae spent most of his extra time in the studio studying the foreign language. He wanted to improve his pronunciation for the song and also be able to communicate more easily during interviews and with I-ARMY on Weverse.

Listening to him talk to himself and repeat the phrases he was hearing in his headphones was incredibly entertaining and highly distracting. Every now and then you would stop what you were doing and just watch him quietly mumbling to himself, an adorably determined look on his face. He would sometimes say things to you in English, just a word or short phrase. You would ask him what he said and usually he would tell you, but sometimes he would just give you a cheeky smile and put his headphones back on.

You tried your best not to overanalyze the situation. You were just two colleagues at the office doing work. The two of you never stayed nearly as late as you did that one time, though, he did occasionally order food if you both worked until dinnertime. Half the time you weren’t even alone since he’d started sometimes bringing Jimin and Jungkook along with him. Honestly, you were grateful when they were there too; it was far less likely that someone would get the wrong idea about things if he was there with the other members and not just you. 

Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you let yourself think about it more deeply. He was purposefully choosing to spend more time in the same place as you. You tried to remind yourself that he probably only did that because the studio was a convenient and comfortable location for him to work, but every once in a while you let yourself wonder if the reason he came was simply because he wanted to be with you.

~~~

One Friday afternoon in early May the two of you were alone in the studio together. Tae was over on the couch writing what appeared to be song lyrics while you were at the table on your laptop trying to place an online order for studio supplies. It was supposed to be Mrs. Choi’s job to do this, so you were already annoyed that she had asked you to do it, but the fact that the website kept crashing and erasing your cart had you beyond frustrated.   

About ready to hurl your computer at the wall, you decided to take a break and go for a walk to calm down. Aggravated and not paying attention, you quickly went to get up only to realize too late that your left foot was awkwardly wedged between the chair and the table. In an instant, you were falling backwards, your ankle twisting severely in the process.

“Owwwww,” you yelped in pain on the way down.   

“Noona?!” Tae said in alarm as he leapt to his feet and rushed over to you. “Are you OK?”

Having just gotten the wind knocked out of you, all you could manage in reply was a cough. He quickly helped you up into the sitting position, but then kept his hand on your back, patting it gently until your coughing fit subsided. After a minute or so, you could finally breathe and talk.

“Wow, that was so embarrassing,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“No it wasn’t,” he assured you. “Stuff like that just happens.”

You covered your face with your hands, still feeling entirely mortified despite his kind words.

“Remember that time I fell on stage in Osaka during Blood, Sweat, & Tears in front of thousands of people and it ended up on YouTube?” he asked with a grin. “Now that was embarrassing.”

You smiled a bit at the memory and the fact that he brought it up just to make you feel less stupid.

“I even cried afterwards and, look, you’re not crying now,” he went on before adding teasingly, “You’re being such a good girl. I’m so proud.”

At that you couldn’t help but laugh, which made Tae’s face break out into a bright smile, but you also couldn’t help but blush over the fact that he’d just called you a ‘good girl’. Even when said playfully, that phrase sounded sinful off of his tongue. 

Oblivious to the effect those two words had clearly had on you, he then leaned over and gently lifted your foot and began slowly moving it around. You winced and inhaled sharply when he turned it inwards to which he mouthed a small ‘Sorry’.

“I think you might have sprained your ankle,” he then said with a pout. “I’ve done it more times than I can count while learning choreography.”

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this,” you said frustratedly. “I need to get back to work.” 

As you said this, you attempted to pull your foot away from him and get up, but he stopped you, his grip on your foot tightening ever so slightly.

“What you need is to rest, elevate your foot, and put ice on that ankle,” he said seriously, giving you a stern look.

You gulped. Serious, stern Tae was so fucking hot.

“Here, let me take you to the couch,” he said, moving as if to pick you up.

“No, no, no. You can’t,” you replied in alarm, eyes wide as he reached out to you. “I-I’m too heavy.”

He paused for a second and gave you a curious little smirk. 

“No you’re not,” he said slowly before adding in a low voice. “I’ve carried you before.”

Before you even had time to register what he had just said, he put one arm around your back and the other under your legs and lifted you up like you weighed nothing at all. Reflexively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, but you regretted that action immediately; you were now snuggled closely to his chest, your face all but burrowed into his neck. 

“Besides, I’m a lot stronger now,” he added casually as he started walking towards the couch. 

That you did not doubt. Jungkook had finally convinced him to start lifting weights a little over a month ago and it was already starting to show. It was honestly a godsend that Tae wasn’t a fan of tight clothing because even while wearing a loose shirt you could see that his arms and chest were more defined. It was incredibly distracting and had you ten times thirstier than usual when you were working closely with him in the studio or on set.

However, seeing those muscles was one thing. Feeling them bulging around you as he held you was another thing entirely. By the time he gently set you down on the couch a few moments later, you were officially hot and bothered. 

“I’m going to go get you some ice, OK?” he said as he started towards the door.

Unable to form words, you simply nodded your head.

He had been gone for a couple minutes, and you were finally starting to calm down, when something else occurred to you.

I’ve carried you before

The only time he could possibly be referring to was the night of The Grammys.

There was a part of you that always wondered if maybe you had gotten it wrong. Maybe you did get into the bed by yourself, but you just don’t remember. Maybe you sleepwalked. 

But now it was official. He had carried you to bed that night. And he remembered that he carried you. And he brought up the fact that he carried you just now.

Suddenly your entire body was flushing all over again.

You were positive your face was absolutely scarlet when he returned a minute or so later, but he clearly didn’t notice as he came in and set to work on your ankle right away. 

He had you sit with your legs out in front of you spread out over two cushions while he sat across from you on the third. He gently took your shoe off, rolled your pant leg back a bit, and then propped your injured foot up onto a pillow. He placed the ice pack on your ankle, but it kept sliding off so he eventually decided to just hold it there himself with one hand while he aimlessly scrolled through his phone with the other. You were also on your phone, perusing the news and an email from Mrs. Choi and any other decidedly unsexy things you could think of.

After fifteen minutes he removed the ice pack, setting it down on the floor beside the couch, but then his hand came back to rest on your ankle. You knew he had done it subconsciously, he had clearly just gotten used to his arm being in that position, but you panicked nonetheless. The heat of his hand contrasted so sharply with the cold from the ice pack that you shuddered. He, however, seemed completely unaware of your anxious and near-feral state as he absentmindedly began rubbing his thumb back and forth. 

Needing to distract yourself from the tiny, yet intoxicating movements of his thumb, you popped in your headphones and pressed shuffle on your ‘Favorites’ playlist in Spotify. The universe must have had it out for you today, though, because the very first song that started playing was the absolute last one you needed to hear right now.

Singularity.

Tae’s everyday speaking voice was already unbelievably sexy, but him singing this song was a legitimate aphrodisiac. You should have pressed the skip button immediately, but you didn’t. You just couldn’t.  

As you sat there, staring at his beautiful profile, his hand burning the skin of your ankle, his sultry voice singing in your ears, you simply could not stop the daydream in your head, the same one you’d had numerous times since the night of The Grammys...

The moment he walked out of the bathroom you were wide awake. He was shirtless and wearing nothing more than a loose pair of shorts.

“I know you’re wondering where you’re going to sleep tonight,” he said casually as he walked over to you. “So let me make this clear.”

Not wanting to stare at his body, you averted your eyes to the floor, but he reached down and gently lifted your chin with his fingers until your gaze met his.

“You’re going to sleep with me in my bed,” he said, his voice dropping as his dark eyes filled with lust.

He then leaned down and scooped you up in his arms bridal style, his strong arms holding you tightly to his chest. After taking his time walking over to the bed, he gently laid you down on the soft comforter, resting your head against a plush pillow.

He went and turned off all the lights, save for the one emitting a soft glow from the bedside table beside you, before standing in front of you at the foot of the bed.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this,” he said as he crept onto the bed. “Laid out in my bed all pretty.”

He crawled towards you and when he reached your knees he placed a gentle kiss on each one before nudging them apart. He continued moving forward until he was hovering over you, his hips between your legs.

“I love the way you look in my clothes,” he said as he reached down and took both your hands, carefully lacing his fingers with yours. He then brought them up and pinned them against the bed on either side of your head before continuing. “But I’ll like it even more after I take them off.”

As he lowered his body onto yours, he began placing tender kisses all along your jaw and neck until he reached your ear.

“What do you say, Y/N?” he whispered, his hot breath making you shudder. “Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

“Y/N?” you heard Tae’s voice call.

“YES,” you practically shouted, responding to daydream Tae rather than real life Tae. 

You then pulled out your headphones and shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the filthy thoughts running through your mind. You looked over to find Tae staring at you expectantly. 

“Sorry,” you said slowly as you felt your face grow hot. “I...uh...couldn’t hear you over the music.”

“Must have been a good song” he said casually, though, he was sporting a little knowing smirk. 

“But anyway, I just wanted to warn you before I put the ice back on,” he continued a moment later.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you replied as you tried to calm your racing heart. “Cold is fine. Cold is good. Great, even.”

“You should ice it again when you get home,” he added as he gently placed the ice pack on your ankle again. “Or at least put it in some cold water.”

You nodded to him in reply.

Yes, I will definitely be dousing my entire body in cold water as soon I get home

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[ghostfacesvalentine]

Ten steps ahead - Scott Lang x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Scott Lang x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of negative body image, sad reader, can get into some touchy subjects but nothing too severe.

Type: One shot

Request: *whispers* can you make a comforting scott lang fic where the reader is on their period and is sad for no reason. Sorry i just want comfort bye!(maybe that one giant ant lays with them on the couch like a dog while they watch sad animal memes)

Word Count: 1,790

Prompt: Scott Lang (baby) Comforts reader that’s on their period

Notes: Girl I feel you, this is actually the cutest request I’ve gotten. I didn’t get to add the big boi but I hope you liked this! I certainly enjoyed writing it. I want me a Scott when I get like this.

This always happens, when the time comes around to this lovely time of the month: mood drops, bloating, stomach aches, body aches really and not to mention, your self esteem seemed to plummet lower than the titanic.

You’ve been spending more and more time with Scott after his run in at the airport. There had been plenty of back and forth with you and him about the whole situation, though you knew the job he took up would endanger him from time to time, the experience still didn’t soothe your nerves. Thankfully after the airport incident Scott decided to stay low and only alternate between Cassie and the studio you were staying at with him and Luis. 

Scott has always been great about picking up on small things, making sure you felt at home and cared for. It was no different when you started your period.

The pain at times felt unbearable, your mood definitely changed, you became more sluggish and reserved. Luis even managed to pick up on it. Watching you snuggle up in a few blankets, wearing an oversized sweater, fuzzy socks and avoiding making much movement, he began to familiarize himself with these actions during these few days every month.

“What’s up with Y/N?” He’d ask Scott when you wouldn’t be your usual self, to which Scott would just sigh and roll his eyes at the obliviousness of Luis.

This week was no different, you felt sluggish again, bloated. Passing by the mirror after you showered was no help either. You caught a glimpse of yourself, then stared a bit too long for your liking.

Of course, as it did at times, it sent you down a spiral, you began to overanalyze your body, parts of your body that were normal, stretch marks, bumps, cuts, bruises, discoloration, it seemed you were looking at yourself with a microscope until eventually Scott’s voice snapped you out of it. 

“Y/N?” He called out from the hallway, the sound of bags rustling came along with his voice. You looked up frowning not knowing exactly what to say at first. “Yeah? I’m in here.” You tended to take longer showers in hopes of making yourself feel better, the heat of the water relieved some of the muscle ache. There was also hope that after the shower it would alleviate some of the sluggishness and grossness that you’d feel throughout the day.

Scott knew your ritual, he felt the warmth of the now-steaming bathroom from the hallway he stepped through. “I brought take out, I don’t know, I didn’t ask but- what’s wrong?” His smile shifting to a pout as you looked up to him, wrapped in a towel and headed towards the closet. 

You didn’t know what was wrong, or more like, you didn’t know how to express it or even process it, but Scott seemed to be ten steps ahead of you.

Your eyes just gloomed over to his for a few seconds, it surely didn’t take longer than three for him to catch on. His pout remained, he always told you he wished he could help you more with the pain and the certain ickiness you tended to feel. 

You had to admit, Scott was great, he was the best actually when it came to comforting you. Maybe it was because he had a daughter or maybe this was just second nature to him, either way you tried your best to keep him from feeling your wrath while you were menstruating.

“Oh. Well, get dressed, I know reheated food doesn’t taste the best.” Scott raised the bags gathered at his hands and just like that he disappeared into the living room. You always hated this part, getting ready after a warm shower, everything stuck onto you.

Tonight was no different, there was no way your clothes were going to show you any mercy whether you were bleeding or not. You slipped into a t shirt that fit you two sizes too big and somehow your hair managed to get tangled at the neck part of it. You growled in annoyance, it was no secret you were incredibly fussy, which only opted the men to exchange glances to each other from the living room they all ate at.

Sliding into the piece of clothing eventually, here came the most annoying part, the leggings and the socks. Sometimes they’d have a hard time sliding up when your legs were damp, no matter how many times you dragged the towel across your skin.

After what seemed like twenty attempts, you hissed in annoyance and tossed your socks aside a bit too hard. The sound of the pair of tiny socks hitting the cabinet across from you echoed through the bathroom. 

Nobody knew what you were exactly up to, but the sound of something hitting a surface was enough to have everyone look to each other, The apartment wasn’t huge by any means, but when things would fall or hit any surface, sometimes it could be heard down the hall or even at the kitchen. Since there was nothing playing in the background while they inhaled their dinner, your frustration was taken into notice.

It was maybe Luis that was getting worried about you, Scott agreed that you were taking too long but it was obvious no one else was going to go check on you. Scott was the one encouraged to see how you were doing, which he would’ve done even if he wasn’t volunteered to do so.

“Y/n?” He asked as he walked up the hallway toward the bathroom, knocking on the door. You didn’t respond which only left him to worry more. “Y/n? I’m coming in, are you alright?” 

You greeted him with watery eyes of frustration, you usually weren’t like this all the time but maybe today was just a really bad day. You made your attempts to have a nice relaxing day, but here you were on the floor, with your underwear holding a sticky pad that felt like a diaper, unable to put your socks and leggings on.

“Oh y/n.” Scott cooed, he tried to suppress his laugh, in hopes of not making worse. Walking over to you as you lowered your head, with hot tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it and Scott knew it. Although it was silly, he knew it wasn’t your fault.

There was not a word you could say, you knew your voice would quiver and it would send you down a spiral of emotions. Usually at times like this, one small sad thought would snowball into a bundle of depressing thoughts that maybe hadn’t crossed your mind in a while.

Scott didn’t hesitate to lean down and help you get your socks on, his touch was so gentle it made you want to curl onto him. You looked to him as his face puzzled when it came to your leggings.

“Well no wonder you can’t get them on sweetheart, are these new?” You couldn’t even whimper out a yes, only wiping your face with the back of your arm you nodded when Scott looked to you for a response. “I can’t even tell which one is the backside and which ones the front, it doesn’t even have a tag.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle when you gazed into his frustrated look. “I have some shorts that are too small on me, we can figure out this pant situation later, come on.” Scott tossed the pair of leggings over his shoulder. Before he could stand, he looked to you, who although erupted a small laugh, still sat on the bathroom floor sulking.

It was then that you felt his arms slide from under you, hooking you from under your knees and your backside, he lifted you up with a grin in hopes that it would reflect onto you and admittedly it kind of did.

After you changed into the shorts Scott promised you, you were out and into the living room, everyone made the effort to not acknowledge what just happened, instead they focused on their phones, computer, TV or food. It was only Scott that greeted you and made you a spot on the couch.

He even brought you the two fluffiest blankets he could find, enough for you to cocoon yourself if you wanted to. You pulled your legs up towards your chest as you looked to the TV, it was Diehard that was playing on the screen, mostly as background noise to avoid hearing your irritated fit in the bathroom.

“Did you want to change the channel? We’re not really watching that.” Scott scoffed as he looked around the room. “Are there any cartoons we could watch?” You felt like a child, especially in a room full of people who had gotten away with crimes and all sorts of trouble, though you knew they weren’t violent per say. 

When you were in pain or in any kind of miserable mood, cartoons, especially from your childhood, seemed to comfort you rather quickly. Scott knew this and it was a form of remedy for him as well, so he didn’t hesitate to fulfill your request.

It didn’t come as a surprise to him, he was happy to oblige, he’d be lying if he said him and Luis didn’t enjoy a few reruns of a few cartoons from their childhood. 

You sat there in your cozy nest as Scott changed the channels, you took a few bites from your take out, it was still warm and fresh, just as Scott would hope. He truly was great, even with everything going on in the world and working with the avengers now, he still made the effort to make sure you were okay. Whether you were on your period or not, Scott was super attentive, even that would be an understatement.

He never suffocated you, maybe when you’d have pillow fights, or when he smothered you in blankets, but he wasn’t helicoptering over you.

A few hours passed and you both only shifted around to get into a more comfortable position, but neither of you had stood up since you sat down. 

You and Scott didn’t give it much thought, he was sitting there, throughout the cartoon marathon he managed to scoot closer to you and you made your way to lean over towards him. His body was much warmer than the arm of the couch, not to mention more comfortable too. 

Scott was even reaching over for your drink, bringing it up to your face so you didn’t have to take your hands out of your blanket, it was really the only time his eyes would leave the screen. 

It was an odd site, but cute nevertheless. 

[ssajj]

Brutus

While undercover, you run into the boyfriend you left behind.

Fem!Reader, 5.1k

TW: nongraphic depictions of violence, swearing, cigarettes, hints of a toxic relationship (not between reader and Spencer), guns

Note: dual timelines! It goes back and forth for most of the fic.

"Are you sure they want to meet me?" You ask, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. It's hard not to overanalyze the outfit you picked out for this occasion, even if you know it's far too late to go back to your place and change. Spencer hates not arriving on time. 

He looks at you with a quizzical expression on his face. "Of course they want to meet you."

When in doubt, you love to go for false bravado. "Talk a lot about me?" You smirk, watching a slow blush appear on his cheeks. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his middle and gently tug him toward you. He complies easily, his hands automatically settling at the small of your back. 

"Is it okay if I do talk about you a lot?"

That makes you smile. "It's sweet."

The blush only gets stronger. "Morgan and Garcia are pretty eager to meet you," he says. "They've been bringing up tonight all week."

He's probably only saying it to make you feel better, but all it does is spike the anxiety brewing in your chest. Garcia's an information junkie; you don't even want to know the things she's already figured out about you. And Morgan is Spencer's best friend. If he doesn't like you, that's probably the beginning of the end for your relationship. 

"It'll be great, love," he's firmer this time, melting some of the fire. Your favorite thing he calls you is 'love'. Something about the gentleness of that word, the feelings it implies, and the soft look Spencer gets on his face whenever he uses it makes you want to curl up against him for the rest of your life.

After another moment, the two of you head out the door and to the bar, hands clasped together. 

"Y/N!!!!" Garcia practically forces you into a bear hug when you walk over to the BAU's table. "Oh, I am SO glad you could come tonight. I've been looking forward to this for ages! I cannot believe Spencer waited an eternity to bring you around us. You're all he talks about anymore, it's adorable."

You glance back at your boyfriend, who looks a tad horrified. Morgan laughs and slaps him on the back, forcing a cough out of him. 

"Hey," JJ greets you, looking so much less intimidating than anyone at the table. You know it's a bit of a farce though. Spencer’s told you enough stories to know that JJ is a woman who can hold her own and hold it well, despite appearances. Idly, you note that she'd be great at undercover work. "I'm JJ. I'm assuming you know that you just got crushed by Garcia. And then there's Morgan, Rossi, Emily, and Hotch." As she said their names, she pointed at them. It was nice to get confirmation, even if you were pretty sure you knew which face belonged to which name.

Hotch nods at you. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is he smiling?" Emily hisses, leaning toward Rossi. "I think Hotch is smiling."

"It's great to finally meet all of you. Spencer’s always talking about you guys," you say, taking your seat. Spencer settles down next to you close enough that your thighs touch. The bar definitely isn't somewhere that he'd normally hang out, but he seems comfortable enough here that you assume it's a frequent spot for the BAU to visit. 

A couple hours in, you're feeling tipsy and ridiculously happy. You're getting along particularly well with Emily and JJ, who are both amazing. If he isn't talking to you, Spencer’s usually talking to Morgan and Garcia, who obviously adore him. Hotch and Rossi seem lost in their own private conversations and you wonder if it's because they're the two highest ranking agents here. 

"You should totally start joining us when we have girls night!" JJ says, clinking her beer against your glass. "I think you'd really enjoy them."

You nod, feeling flattered. "I'm down to come."

Emily grins, reaching over to knock Spencer’s shoulder. "Your girlfriend is so much cooler than you."

Before you can protest, he nods. "She is," he agrees, smiling at you.

"Awww," Garcia coos, joining the conversation. "Who knew that our baby Spencer was a secret romantic? I love it!"

--

"A wedding?" You ask, pressed up against Cal's side. It's always a bit uncomfortable, almost like your bodies know you don't fit together, that something is amiss. You just hope that your body isn't the thing that finally gets you killed. "That seems below you."

Cal looks down at you, an amused smirk twisting his face. He wants to eat you up, you think. He wants to devour you. "The groom is an old family friend," he explains. "It's courtesy that I attend. And I can hardly go without a ravishing date on my arm."

You rise up on your toes to kiss his cheek, rubbing a bit at the lipstick you leave with the pad of your thumb. "As long as I get to pick my own dress."

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't let you pick it yourself?" His grip on you tightens enough that you wonder if it'll leave a bruise on your hip. Tomorrow, you know you'll find a wad of cash in your purse. In exchange, he'll get to take it off of you after the wedding. 

Mercifully, he lets you go a second later. You step back, walking by him. He's done with you for the day. Your relationship is to the point where he doesn't need to formally dismiss you anymore. You've picked him apart and put him back together. Whether he knows it or not, it feels like you've made him the very man that you hate with every fiber of your being. At least, you tell yourself that you hate him. When it gets too hard, when you find yourself falling under his spell, you picture the last boyfriend you had as yourself. A man full of shy smiles, sweet compliments, gentle kisses, and the most beautiful assortment of random knowledge. When he's in your mind, you don't get lost in the person you're pretending to be. It's the only time you feel like yourself. 

Of course, being yourself too much would get you killed, so you limit yourself. 

You go dress shopping the next day. Cal gave you an absurd budget, so you manage to pick out an extravagant dress and also a pair of shoes and earrings. This morning, Cal had mentioned that the wedding was going to be a black tie event, giving you an excuse to feel like a princess. Well. Maybe a trapped princess, like Cinderella or Rapunzel. You walk out of the store with a heavy bag on your arm. When you return to the house, it's blissfully empty. Cal isn't due back until late, but you still do a full walk around the house, double checking before you go out to the garden. The first few months you lived here, the garden was the responsibility of the landscapers that stopped by occasionally, but you batted your eyes and sucked on Cal's lip until he agreed to give it to you. Now, no one else was allowed to touch it per his orders. And he wasn't the kind of man his staff said no to. 

Basically, it was a perfect hiding spot. You go over to the daisies, digging a little until you find the box that contained your current burner phone. You'd have to switch soon, probably within the next few weeks. It was close to dying and it was never a good idea to keep the same phone number for an extended period of time. You dial the number once, hang up immediately, dial again, let it ring three times, hang up, and then dial for a final time. Your handler answers quickly.

"What?" He asks, gruff. 

"We're going to a wedding near Virginia."

You hear him suck in a breath. "Close to where you used to live."

"I know."

"If you get recognized-"

"I won't."

He pauses. "Stay safe."

You hang up the phone and pray you make it through this alive. 

--

On your one year anniversary, Spencer brings you to a museum. He walks you through all the exhibits, rambling about anything he knows in regards to your surroundings. His hands keep waving through the air, his eyes bright and alive, a grin splitting his face. It's obvious that he's in his element. 

You love him so badly that it hurts, sometimes. 

By the time you reach the gift shop, your brain is full of knowledge you probably won't ever need again. 

"Sorry," Spencer says suddenly, looking at you. "Did I just bore you? You know you're allowed to cut me off when I get going."

You shake your head, kissing his cheek. "It was cute. I loved it."

Once you're done there, the two of you head back to his apartment. Last month, the two of you had decided not to do gifts, electing just to spend the day together instead. You cuddle with him on the couch, your body tucked perfectly against his. In this moment, you feel safe. You're with a man you know loves you, and you love him back just as fiercely. Life is good. 

--

You and Cal arrive in Virginia at the crack of dawn, early enough that it feels like you should still be rubbing the sleep out of your eyes even though you've been awake for hours. “Who even has weddings before noon? I didn’t even think that was a thing.”

Cal chuckles beside you, his arm snaking around you. In this moment, it’s hard not to shudder. You’ve never understood his need to always touch you, claim you for the world to see. As far as he knows, you’ve never belonged to anyone else. You were born and bred for this, a perfect lover. Just enough sass, just enough danger, just enough compliance, just enough meekness. He doesn’t know that this isn’t the real you, that you’re always on the verge of screaming your head off. One day, he’ll learn. It’ll end in one of your deaths. 

Hopefully, it’ll end in his death. 

"We'll stop at the hotel first, darling," Cal takes your hand as he talks, leading you along the side of the road. God, you remember this place. Of course you do. This is your home turf. A new name and a new look doesn't mean that this doesn't feel like home. "You can get changed and refreshed before we head to the venue."

You shrug. "Sounds good to me."

The walk is blissfully short, but the hotel is grand. It's definitely not somewhere you would have been able to afford. Honestly, you're almost disgusted by how the place practically bleeds money and how well Cal seems to blend into this new environment. 

Once you're in the room, you toss your suitcase onto the bed, hissing when the action results in a broken nail. Cal laughs at you as you stick your finger in your mouth. He comes over after a beat, pulling at your hand to inspect your nail. For a second, it looks like he's going to lick your finger, but he just lets you go. "Get dressed," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "I want to see how stunning you're going to look."

--

"Something's off about you."

You whip around, coming face to face with Emily. She's wearing an expression you recognize, but not on her: perfect blankness. There's no trace of a personality, no trace of a name attached to the person that spoke. Something tightens in your chest and you crane your neck to look at Spencer, who's blissfully unaware of the words that were just spoken. Instead, he's fully engaged in a conversation with JJ and Will, hands flapping as they smile warmly at him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say to Emily, crafting a neutral but surprised look to wear on your own face. "Not sure I appreciate the tone, though."

Emily scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me. Come on. I know you got the same feeling about me."

She's right, even though you don't admit it. It almost feels like when two predators acknowledge each other in the wild- they know they're evenly matched, and so they go their separate ways. Except that everyone in the room is a predator. You and Emily are a different breed, though. 

She's done deep undercover work. 

"Ladies!" Rossi interrupts, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders. If he notes any tension, he doesn't comment on it. "Why are you being antisocial over here?" He points at you. "Your boyfriend has been talking the ears off of JJ and Will. I honestly couldn't even tell you what about."

You shrug. "They don't seem to mind."

"Am I not allowed to talk to her?" Emily asks, eyebrow quirked. "I need to make sure she's not a secret spy."

Rossi laughs. "Garcia would have already sniffed that out, don't worry. Y/N passed her background check with flying colors."

"Did you?" You ask Emily, a small smile playing on your lips. 

"Of course."

By now, Rossi’s gotten a good taste of the strangers of this interaction. He glances between you, eyes narrowing as they settle on you. You don't change your face.

"Actually, I think I'll join Spencer," you say, sliding past the two of them. 

Spencer welcomes you gladly, folding you seamlessly into the conversation. Throughout most of it, you wonder how everyone else can understand what Will's saying. For all you know, he could be telling you off. 

When you turn your head, you notice that Emily’s still looking at you. When you nod at her, she nods back. 

You hope that's the end of it. 

--

An hour in, you figure out that you hate weddings. 

It doesn't help that you've been ditched. Cal was stuck to you like glue just long enough for you two to walk in together before he mumbled something about "important business" and took off. Currently, you're sitting alone at a table toward the back of the venue. You don't know what the hell you got so dressed up for or why you chose such a risky dress. One wrong move meant that everyone here was going to see a lot more of you than you were comfortable with. 

"Hey, pretty lady," a man greets you, plopping himself in one of the empty seats next to you. You blink at him. "All alone here?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend."

He sighs, putting his sweaty hands on the table. "Now, what kind of man would leave his lady all by her lonesome?"

"How about you leave before I kick your ass?"

Cal laughs behind you, alerting you to his presence. You turn around, smiling at him. He's got a warm look on his face, the one that's only reserved for you. 

"Oh!" The stranger yelps, standing up so fast that he rattles the table. "I didn't realize you were Cal's-"

"Just go," you tell him, waving him off. He doesn't waste any time. 

Cal takes the empty seat. "I don't know why I bothered having security. You're scarier than all of them."

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. Have fun chatting up all the old rich men here?"

He takes your hand. "I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long." Lifting your hand, he kisses it. You blush. 

"I'm assuming you have to go back to that?"

He nods. "Will you be okay here?"

"I think I'm going to go smoke, actually."

He's the one that got you into cigarettes, so he doesn't protest this. "Go out the west wing exit," he says instead. "There's always too much traffic at the main doors."

The two of you part, heading in opposite directions. It takes you a bit to find the right exit, but you're blissful when the crisp air finally hits your face. The view isn't bad, either, but it does make your heart ache. 

For some stupid reason, you hadn't realized that the venue was so close to the museum Spencer loved taking you to. 

You take your sweet time outside, cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers. It's the most relaxed you've felt all day, away from the prying eyes that know you as someone else. This assignment has already gone on for longer than you'd expected, but Cal is a tough nut to crack. Every time you think you have his complete trust, that he'll tell you what you need to know, a door slams shut in your face, or he gets angry with you for the littlest action. You take a drag, watching the smoke dissipate in the air. 

"Y/N?" A familiar voice asks.

Your heart stops. 

--

Your blood freezes in your veins, seemingly distorting everything around you. "What?" You whisper into the phone. 

"He'll be okay," JJ soothes. "He's getting checked out by an EMT as we speak, I promise. I'm staring at him right now."

"What happened?"

She pauses, which doesn't fill you with any kind of confidence. "He went in after the unsub without backup. They ended up getting into a bit of a fight before Morgan and I could get to him. The three of us took down the unsub together, Spence is just...bruised."

"Any cracked ribs?" You ask. 

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out. I'll call back in a few, okay?" 

Before you can reply, the line is disconnected. 

For the next eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds, you don't move a muscle. This wasn't the first time Spencer had gotten hurt since you'd started dating- perks of being with someone that hunted serial killers for a living- but that did nothing to comfort you now. Your mind always went to the worst possible place, combing over your last interaction with Spencer, wondering if he died now, would he know how much you loved him? While you were at a desk job currently, most of your career had been spent never knowing if you'd make it to dawn. This had been ingrained in you by now. You've seen people die, you've seen people be killed in a heartbeat. You survived that. 

You couldn't survive Spencer dying. 

The second your phone rings, it's answered and at your ear. "How is he?"

"Y/N," Spencer says into the phone, and you feel your entire body relax. 

Instead of answering him, you burst into tears. 

"Hey, hey. I'm okay, love."

"Sorry!" You practically wail, covering your mouth with your hand. "Sorry. What did the EMT say? How are you feeling? When will you be home?"

He answers your questions in a steady tone, obviously still worried about your emotional level. "We're getting on the jet once JJ and Hotch finish wrapping up with the detectives here."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Y/N." 

Twelve hours later, Spencer is wrapped in your arms. He has a cracked ribs and an assortment of bruises, but he's breathing and he's here.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you that causes such a dramatic reaction?" He asks, making you tense. 

"Spence…"

He sighs. "I know."

This was the biggest rift in your relationship. He pours his heart out day by day, and you're a shell of a woman with none of that to offer him. You can’t talk about most of your career. Even now, at a boring desk job, you're handling other people's undercover identities. You requested a break from going undercover and gotten it, but there's a part of your brain that still knows not to trust that. They could try to send you away tomorrow. 

--

Spencer. Spencer is here. Spencer is staring at you. Spencer just said your name. 

You know what you have to do, even if it'll hurt both of you. You'd tear yourself open to keep him safe, set yourself on fire to keep him safe, but that doesn't mean it'll be any easier to break his heart to keep him safe. 

"I'm sorry?" You ask, scrunching your face up in confusion. "I think you have the wrong person."

You don't look exactly like you did when you dated Spencer. Your hair is a different color and cut, and your face has started hollowing out from stress and hate. Honestly, there's been times where you haven't even recognized yourself in the mirror. 

He repeats your name, taking a step toward you. Instinct has taught you well, so even though you want to run forward into his arms, you take a step back. 

He looks different since the last time you saw him. Different, but good. He's filled out more, his hair is longer, and he's holding himself with more authority. This Spencer isn't constantly curled in on himself, you know. He isn't always trying to make himself lesser. He's maintained his kind eyes, though. They're staring straight through you, searching for things you can't give him. All you can remember is the love you shared with him, the love you smashed when you left. It makes you ache. 

This is conformation of your deepest fear: he's better off without you. 

"That isn't my name," you tell him, cocking your head to the side. The cigarette, you notice, has fallen to the ground. You wonder if he's noticed, but you step on it all the same. "My name is Reva."

"Reva." It sounds distinctly wrong coming from his lips, like it doesn't quite fit despite his efforts to force it. By this point, you're well used to being called the wrong name. Something about the way Spencer says it still makes you want to cringe. 

Regardless, he can't know any of that. He still has some hope in his eyes, although it's being muddled by confusion. "Yes," you confirm. "Look, I'm sorry you can't find who you're looking for. I'm not her, though."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Reva!" You hear, and you turn to find Cal coming out the door. Whipping your head back at Spencer, you gesture for him to leave, feeling some of your panic leak out into the open. Cal doesn't get to look at Spencer. He doesn't get to talk to Spencer. 

Out of desperation, you practically leap into Cal's arms, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He’s surprised, but since he never says no to this kind of thing, he pulls you closer and deepens it. “Can we get out of here?” You whine, lowering your hands to right below his ass. 

“I think that sounds perfect.”

As he takes your hand to lead you back into the venue, you spare one last look at Spencer. He’s rooted to the spot, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you. 

You have the sinking feeling that you didn’t trick him well enough. 

--

When you go into the office on Monday, you know. Your supervisor is standing at your desk, a grim expression on his face. 

“I don’t want to go,” you tell him automatically. 

All the other times you’ve been under, there’s been no one on the other side to miss you. Now, though? You think of Penelope, who likes surprising you with different kinds of flowers, of Rossi, who taught you how to make your first authentic Italian dish, of Hotch, who you just managed to work a soft smile out of, of JJ, who automatically gravitates toward you whenever you’re in a room together, of Morgan, who lifted you up and spun you around when you admitted to him that you could see a forever with Spencer, and god- Spencer. You don’t want to leave Spencer. You could survive without him, but there’d forever be a light missing. 

“Come on into my office,” your supervisor tells you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

--

For the first time in a long time, you cry yourself to sleep. 

The next day, you make your way back into the garden. Cal’s out again, probably plotting something that will result in death and destruction. You’re frustrated that he’s been so difficult to get through to, you’re frustrated that you saw Spencer last night, and all you want to do is throw your head back and scream until your throat is raw and bleeding. That isn’t an option, so all you can do is dig up your phone and make the call. 

When you tell him what happened, all you get is a sigh before he hangs up. Figures. “Asshole.”

--

“What do you want me from me, huh?” You scream, hands balled into fists at your side. Your breath is heavy, weighing the room down. 

Spencer scoffs at you. “I’ve made it perfectly clear what I want, you just aren’t listening anymore.”

“I can’t give you that.”

He won’t look at you anymore. Tears have started gathering in his eyes, and while you want to wipe them away, you know you don’t have the right. You’re the one that put them there, you’re the one making him act like this. 

“It feels like I barely know you sometimes,” he says, and you don’t even have a counter argument for that. You’ve been so many people. At this point, you’re a jigsaw puzzle of everyone you’ve ever been, but he’s missing too many pieces to solve you. 

When you don’t respond, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. And then-

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You suck in a breath. “What?”

His voice firms. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Y/N. I don’t know if this is working. I don't think I want to keep trying."

Before he can say anything else, before you can make your case, before you can fight for him, your legs are already carrying you out the door. 

You make a single phone call. 

“I’m in. Tell me more about the assignment.”

--

On a Wednesday, it ends. It's months since you saw Spencer. Part of you had expected some big event to come from that, whether it be Cal stabbing you in the stomach or Spencer somehow tracking you down to save you. Life isn't a romance movie, though, so you just went back to being alone. 

And finally, after a century of careful prodding and poking, you get the information you need to take Cal down. 

As the sun shines and the birds chirp, the SWAT team bursts through the door, shouting to get down. You scream Cal's name, knowing that your performance isn't going to be over until he never gets to see daylight again.

Unfortunately, Cal never goes down without a fight. He comes out guns blazing, shooting one of the SWAT members before they even register that he's there. In a flash, you're pressed up against Cal's chest, the barrel of his gun pressed to your head. 

"You motherfucker," you whisper. 

"I'm sorry, baby," he says to you, raising his voice to talk to the SWAT team. "Back off or I'll shoot!"

This fantastic plan results in you bleeding from a bullet wound in your stomach, curled on the ground and Cal is hauled off by SWAT. One of them approaches you once everyone else is gone.

"Good work, Y/N."

--

You hate hospitals. You hate the lights, the sounds, the smells, and the general fear of death that spikes whenever you enter through the doors. You've already been debriefed, already destroyed Reva. As far as Cal knows, you bled to death on his living room floor. 

As you start to drift off to sleep, you hear a sudden clanging from down the hall, muffled voices oozing in frustration. Footsteps start up again, and then-

Oh.

Spencer’s in your room. 

"Y/N," he gapes, coming up to the side of the bed. He starts to reach for your hand before aborting the motion; in response, you grab his instead. You're too weak to deny him right now. "Oh, god. Y/N."

"How are you here?" You ask. 

"Penelope. I knew it was you outside the venue, and once the shock wore off, I knew you were undercover. We've been trying to locate you ever since, but your name pinged on her alerts when you were admitted here. What happened?"

"SWAT guy shot me."

The two of you lock eyes, and you're horrified to discover that you're both on the verge of crying. "Spence-"

He hugs you, arms gentle as he settles onto the bed. As you sob into his arms, you feel more at home than you have in a very long time. 

--

Two weeks later, you're curled in his bed. 

Things aren't normal. You've been gone for over a year and you left things completely unfinished. Not to mention that you've screamed yourself awake every night, panic attacks and sobs wrecking you even as Spencer whispers comforts as he holds you. But you're safe. 

Another day later, Spencer helps you sit up before announcing, "We need to talk."

"I know."

He starts fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan. "You- you left."

"You told me to."

"No! I-" he sighs, pulling harder at his sleeves. "I know it sounded that way. But I love you, Y/N. Then and now. I was never done trying for you."

You laugh a little. It doesn't sound right. "You don't love me now. I'm not even...I don't know how much of myself is even left anymore."

"So let me find out," he pleads. "Let me learn to love all the new things about you, let me cherish what hasn't changed."

"I'm sorry for running."

"I'm sorry for not chasing after you."

--

Your first date after coming back to yourself is a walk through the park. Spencer figures you can handle that, figures you won't get too overwhelmed or pained from the experience. He still lets you lean against him the entire time.

Since the first initial conversation, you've had many more. You've detailed your thoughts, as well as your experiences with Cal. You fought and fought and fought with your supervisor to get the clearance to tell Spencer, reminding him that you refused to ever go under again and that Spencer was an agent. Eventually, he folded. Spencer still had to sign an absurd amount of paperwork. In turn, Spencer explained the things he'd been up to since you left, how he refused to lose you again once he spotted you. 

Things aren't perfect. They are better, though.

"Hey," you say, pulling at his hand until he stops. "I love you."

A big smile spreads across his face, and he leans forward until your foreheads are touching. "I love you too."

When you kiss him, you vow to yourself to never leave again. 

[becomingsea]

@owedfavors​ ;; ❛ so why is it so important anyway? ❜ ( for sam )

“I mean you’re right, you’re right. It’s not. Not important.” And really, he should just let it go. He would, usually. He’s never seen the point of overanalyzing things. Interaction between sentient beings is complicated enough without making it more complicated by thinking about it too much.

And yet. “It’s just that I like people to like me. And I don’t think Spock likes me. I mean this thing--him telling me he’d rather I didn’t speak to him unnecessarily while we’re working--is just the latest thing. So it’s not important that he doesn’t want me to talk to him, per se, you know? It’s a... microcosm.” He scrunches his nose; yeah, he’s definitely overthinking this. “He likes you. He likes Chris. Not me, though.”

[alittlecatastrophe]

"Miseries pile atop each other in all these novels. Occasionally, they tower high enough for someone to reach a state of grace, sometimes through sex, though just as often not. Sexual encounters are regularly abusive — pedophilic, or the result of an older child targeting a younger child, or of a consensual encounter turned sour — or simply humiliating. Regardless, the grace passes, like a cloud one’s briefly stuck one’s head into, and few other tonal diversions break up the bleak stacking — no humor (save the rare, usually vain attempt in Shuggie), or mania, or charm, or sudden dryness, or any of the other possibilities these texts obscure. No, the miseries mount anew, gray and grim, like the novels’ barely distinguishable covers. (When you see gray bodies on a gray background set against white type, you know you’re about to enter the motherfucking zone of total sincerity.)"

[...]

I am neither a psychologist nor Michel Foucault, but I am the writer of this essay and therefore a local — some would say the local — authority on the schema we deploy to understand homo (i.e., human, gay) behavior. I wield my authority not to argue that callous wit has no relation to trauma avoidance. I rather brandish it to say: Do we not grow tired, after so many rounds of this sentimental journey to the weepy, fantastical core of human experience? Might we not celebrate instead a more horizontal outlay of sincerity, mania, irony, horror, meanness, humor, etc., one in which we do not take poetic earnestness to be primary to the other affective modes but allow them to sit beside and astride one another, equally true at different moments, now in conflict, now in commerce, now merely both present and represented and felt at the same time or in succession? In lieu of crying, a writer might try laughing, cackling, madly monologuing to the pool of cum on one’s tummy, coolly observing it, overanalyzing it for effect, playing in it, rejoicing in it, ascribing to it an explanation for society’s infinite ills, even the possibility of repair via socialist buy-in — not my cum, our cum on our collective tummy.

The mainstream critical success of books like Shuggie Bain, Cleanness, and On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous bespeaks, I think, a discomfort on the part of certain readers with affective complexity. And complexity, or its artful representation, can be a joyful thing. By joyful I don’t mean happy, per se, which is the subject of Kevin Brazil’s long (fairly sincere) essay for Granta from last year, “Whatever Happened to Queer Happiness.” I mean energizing, refreshing, able to match the pulse of our thoughts to the rhythms and resonances of its lines. Some books that are joyful in this way are gay and old (Jean Genet’s oeuvre, e.g., Our Lady of the Flowers, and Jane Bowles’ Two Serious Ladies, if we’re suddenly extending the category of gay to include lesbians because it is suddenly convenient to do so), some are gay and new (Adam Mars-Jones’s recent work, Brontez Purnell’s 100 Boyfriends) and some are, alas, mostly straight and merely semi-recent (Marie NDiaye’s My Heart Hemmed In, Percival Everett’s Erasure). Like the Sincerity Gays, these writers often focus their gaze on the pain associated with marginalized identity. But rather than point at a gaping wound that filters all experience, they assemble disturbing and vivifying affective tableaus. They discomfit and enrapture and enrapture by discomfiting. If only more readers had my special gift for being enraptured by my own discomfort, my unique affinity for complexity, my height and age and general appeal.

Breathe a sigh of relief: I do not have a tidy political point to make about sincerity and infantilization and selfishly cultivated blindnesses. This is about so much more than “good” or “bad,” right or wrong or left — it’s about me, and my personal tastes, and the lengths to which I’ll go to see those validated by an internet publication and some portion of its readership. I really mean that, sincerely."

- Paul McAdory, Gay Sincerity is Scary

[outlaw-unicorn]

How does Arthur Morgan's Dead Eye work?

Overanalyzing game mechanics and other fun activities

feat. just enough science to sound like I know what I’m talking about.

So what do we know about Arthur's Dead Eye?

time slows down

objects of interest sparkle

wind direction visible

enemies weak spots appear red

can be activated at will

cannot be used endlessly without recharging

Something like this is clearly just a game mechanic but maybe, just maybe, we can have some real world equivalents. Let's look at our first clue – Time slowing down

Now obviously, unless Arthur is a god messing about, time does not actually slow down. It just seems to. There are studies (x) analyzing exactly this phenomenon, most interestingly the experiences include:

The feeling of external time expanding and slowing down to a great extent.

Dominant mental quickness as demonstrated by the increased speed of thoughts.

There is often an altered sense of the duration of the event lasting longer than it actually does.

If possible, in the event in question, people often act fast and purposefully.

In the latter case, their attention is also altered and narrowly focused on the issues relevant for survival.

Unusually sharp vision or hearing.

And hoo boy, if that doesn't sound familiar.

A little harder to explain – though not impossible – is the visual representation of spots of interest.

Because why would you see red where there isn't any? The answer is – everyone does, you're doing it right now. (Well maybe not red per se but colors). Fun fact you cannot see colors at the edge of your field of vision because all the cones (the cells in your eye responsible for color vision) are located in the center of your retina. So what you're actually seeing is more like

Well that can't be right, I hear you say, I surely would have noticed.  Except nope, because your brain is a sneaky bastard that loves to color in the the things you see. If you know a thing's color (maybe because you have seen it coming into the room) your brain will fill in the missing information for the whole picture. This can easily be proven in an experiment. You need at least two objects of the same shape with different colors and ideally another person. You need to fixate a point in front of you and then have the other person slowly move one of the objects into your field of vision from behind. Try guessing its color as soon as it appears in your field of vision – you will probably be wrong (unless you only have two objects bc fifty-fifty). Note: This doesn't work if you know which one you're going to see bc sneaky bastard brain.

Which proves – your brain already adds things your senses cannot perceive and paints it as This is what you're seeing, completely unmodified whatsoever, yessir. So it might as well add red for the area you KNOW to be a weak spot because we value usefulness over accuracy when it comes to perception. Great example:

The gray bar in the middle is only one shade of gray, yet it seems to be lighter on one side and darker on the other. There's something called lateral inhibition which your eye uses to enhance the contrasts to make those stand out more. And let's be honest – it's more important you see the tiger about to bite your head of than that you are able to tell the exact color of its stripes.

Evolutionary a dead eye would definitely be a huge advantage, being able to react in a split second and having an easier time finding whatever you're searching for. Does that mean everyone in the Red Dead world can do it? Probably not. Because there is one catch – heightened senses come at a cost. Do you know why tigers are so perfectly hidden with their bright orange stripes? Because their prey can't see red, they only have color-receptive cones for blue and green (unlike humans who have green, blue and red). The extra color-cone is so frigging expensive and also useless in low-light situations that they rather invested their energy into other senses. fyi the mantis shrimp  has sixteen (16) color-receptive cones. (x)

Now Arthur doesn't have extra cones but we do have proof of the cost of using dead eye.

Empty your Dead Eye core and our  boy is tired. His health is fine, so is his stamina but yet he looks somewhere between falling asleep where he stands and killer headache of doom. And you know what? If my brain did the equivalent of bench-pressing a semi I'd be tired, too. Which explains why the game constantly declares Arthur underweight despite just eating three deer and a rabbit. A normal person's brain uses 20 % of their energy – who knows how much energy a brain regularly going into dead eye overdrive needs. Boy was always skinny growing up because there wasn't enough food in the world to keep him fed with that kind of energy-drain.

This also fits nicely with a fan-theory I read somewhere about Arthur having a sweet tooth. Because besides being a sneaky bastard your brain is also a picky eater. The brain gets its energy from sugar alone – glucose to be exact – and it doesn't want anything else. Okay, if you were starving it can also use ketone bodies but that's it. So the next time you do some intense studying and afterwards really want some chocolate – that's your brain complaining about being low on sugar. (I mean technically you usually have enough sugar stored in your liver but who wants that when you can have chocolate).

So in conclusion rdr might be a lot more realistic than we ever thought.

FYI I also looked into other explanations, namely synesthesia and maybe something similar to light / dark adaptation. But neither really fits. It's probably not synesthesia (the perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. For example letters or numbers are perceived as inherently colored.) (x) because unfortunately according to my degree in Wikipedia science synesthesia is involuntary and automatic and as far as I can tell can't be turned off. Which means it would happen all the time not just when you press a button. Also, while it can occur between pretty much any senses it would raise the question why enemies weak spots are consistently colored red even though the wolves trying to eat you for dinner look nothing like O'Driscoll #23.

And light or dark adaption (something your eye does to get used to light conditions) simply takes too long. (9 – 10 minutes for light, up to hours for dark adaptation). So nothing like the instantaneous changes we have.

[charcubed]

Something I don't think enough people ask themselves regarding celebrities: who is the "coming out" performance/ritual for? If a celebrity simply exists as a queer person without that, does that diminish their own queerness? I think some people would answer "yes" and those are the people that make me mad. It's a complicated question for sure, but privacy does not equal a need for an assumption of heterosexuality.

SPEAK ON IT, ANON. I could not agree more!!!!!!

Also: I’d add that while privacy does not equal a need for an assumption of heterosexuality, nor should people demand a celebrity “come out” because they think they know the celebrity best (???). Which is what you’re basically saying, but I’m just adding that coda because like... it drives me CRAZY that people speculate about celebrities’ sexualities to the point of harassing them or making bad jokes especially where they can fucking see them on social media. Social media is not the harmless echo chamber people think it is, especially with Twitter. Stuff does not hide.

One example in particular I’m thinking of is Shawn Mendes. People loooovvee to say–for no good fuckin’ reason–that he’s queer, usually with crude or cruel undertones about him being closeted. To the point where he’s gone on the record in interviews about how much anxiety it’s given him, not because being gay is a bad thing, but because of how that scrutiny makes him feel and makes him second-guess his decisions in ways that he hates. That’s absolutely bullshit and makes me black out with rage. It’s not our BUSINESS to speak on people’s sexualities or overanalyze their every action!!!! 

(this ask is in reference to this post)

Jensen and Misha are a different case (per linked post) because like... they require no over-analysis, they’ve been acting Like This for over a decade in their bubble primarily on con stages on their own terms (this is key), and could at any time have dissuaded people from making the obvious conclusions if it made them uncomfortable but instead they’ve only encouraged those conclusions. If you think they’re heterosexuals, that’s on you. But this doesn’t transfer over automatically to other situations, and it’s not the same as something like harassing Shawn Mendes, or having fucking One Direction "ships” that negatively affected friendships, or any of that–all of which no one has any business doing.

And to route back to your point: God forbid one of the celebrities that the public sticks under a microscope is queer, and doesn’t feel the need to “come out” with a label and participate in that ritual, but they are forced to do so because of scrutiny and this damaging culture surrounding these sorts of topics. Oh, wait, hang on... that’s right... that literally happened to Lee Pace. And others too.

So yeah. Big mood. Great rule of thumb? Other people’s lives are not our business. If they’re out there Being Queer But Unlabeled, we can acknowledge that (because we have eyes and brains) without assuming heterosexuality, and then move on without perpetually making a Thing of it and forcing them to address it in so many words. And regardless... privacy and responsible discussions (or lack thereof) in the public sphere is key. Always.

Celebrities are not characters and their lives, beyond what they care to willingly share, do not exist for our consumption.

[magireco]

ive never played/watched magireco but do you think the large cast is a part of iroha just being seen as “madoka 2” ?? ive never touched the thing because from what i know its much darker than the original anime, but i do know there’s like 20 thousand megucas in the game and each of them has their own story, so there’s plenty of characters that could be seen as more interesting. theres also the fact that a lot of people dont like gacha games (and magireco, other than being one, is sexualized quite a bit so that probably makes people steer away from it as well, but that’s another topic) and magireco NA no longer exists anyways so it’s harder to actually understand the new content, plus as far as i’m aware season 2 of the magireco anime has not been confirmed to be planned? correct me if i’m wrong on that though

hi!! i have a lot to cover with this ask, so i’m going to answer your questions as neatly as i can in a fun little numbered list. read under the cut!

1. what do you mean by large cast? if you’re talking about how there’s more characters in the game/anime than in the original series, then i don’t think that really has anything to do with iroha. it might just be to garner fans’ collective interest since the original anime hit it off so hard. also, it’s just really hard to please huge collectives of people, especially really critical anime fans... *shiver.*

2. i think iroha bearing a similar resemblance to madoka was used to draw old fans back in, as well as living up to the tradition of all “main character” magical girls having pink hair. iroha and yachiyo were probably meant to resemble madoka and homura at least design-wise, and also seeing iroha, madoka, and homura together in one image is visually appealing; the colors and the familiar faces next to a new face are nice to look at.

3. magia record is not nearly as dark as the original series! in the anime, there are no main-cast deaths. this does not inherently prove that a show isn’t dark, but literally, the only onscreen death is of yachiyo’s friend from her original team, and that was in a flashback... rather than slowly losing characters as the story goes on, it starts off with iroha alone, then she meets other magical girls and they form a team, etc. i go on about this on my blog bc, once again, in my opinion, magia record has much more hopeful undertones and actually gives the girls a chance to, well... live. it’s an alternate timeline(that madokami can’t interfere with, there’s lore to that) wherein glasses homura is the homura featured(she actually gets a lot of character growth in the game), the main quintet is all together, the mikazuki villa crew really are just the found family trope combined in a little package. 

4. there are a few reasons for there being a lot of characters in the game, one of them being that they literally adapted every spinoff into the game. oriko magica, tart magica, suzune magica, kazumi magica... all those characters are there. then they added a bunch of side characters, which, i dunno? there are some side characters i really like and others i just kind of don’t really care about. but they really grow on you! .... most of them. 

5. yeah, blegh. the game certainly has its flaws(the whole series does, but that’s another ask for another day). the anime is much, much less fanservicey though! i have my gripes about the designs and i certainly have my gripes about the way the characters are drawn sometimes (looking at you, swimsuit mami artist), but with me being an experienced gacha player (unfortunately) that was just something i decided to put up with in exchange for a fun story. i can see why people might get the misconception that the anime is just as sexualized, though. i don’t like the main characters’ designs that much, honestly... they all show too much skin, so i agree. weird.

6. season 2 was confirmed! 

7. NA was discontinued right after the first arc of the series. disappointing (oh, i could go on), but we got to see a lot of iroha’s character development in the story.

8. what i was really trying to get across with that post was really just to gripe about in-fandom stuff. there are plenty of other characters that could be seen as more interesting than iroha, especially considering the mikazuki villa girls are all so varied, but that’s kind of how it is with every series, honestly. there’s always going to be one character that seems less interesting compared to other ones. i just kind of realized that iroha gets the short end of the stick compared to the other girls. not only because of her resemblance to madoka, but because of her perceived blandness and the lack of people who care to analyze why she might act that way. her pink motif and gentle, kind demeanor translates as “madoka copy” in people’s heads, and, y’know, it translated like that in mine the first time i saw her, too. but, when you actually think about her arc aside from her resemblance to madoka in several different ways, you get a really interesting and special character; just as special as the others! there was a similar issue with madoka, honestly, with people brushing her off because she wasn’t as “emotionally deep” as the rest of the quintet, even though that’s not true at all. i think it’s unfair that people will brush off a character just because they’re nice; that they’ll reduce characters like iroha and madoka to their cuteness and kindness only and not analyze the rest of the details that they have intentionally(or sometimes unintentionally, y’know how anime writing can be) been written with! 

...but then again, i’m biased in my own way, admittedly. i relate to iroha (i really just made that post because i was thinking about how i’ve never seen someone touch on how her memory gaps affect her), and i just wasn’t seeing any coverage on it, so i thought, someone has to do this! i also just... don’t see people who coin themselves as “iroha fans” very often? she’s one of the characters who is there, but usually not deemed interesting enough for someone to be a superfan of. i’m probably hypocritical, considering homura akemi is my favorite character and she’s pretty popular in the fandom, but what i said is more of an observation than an accusation anyway. i had similar feelings with madoka, but i haven’t gone on a proper ramble about that yet. 

...these characters also aren’t real people, so i’d say i probably shouldn’t go on such long rambles about them, but i really do feel like they reflect a lot of real life experiences sometimes. like, me connecting to iroha’s struggles is something that connects her character to an actual experience. however, like i said in my original post, i am very much an overanalyzer, and i tend to take concepts and just run with them, especially when something stands out to me. this is also just a magical girl show, so i’m really not taking anything that personally. 

also, to clear anything up, the original post wasn’t meant to come across as me being angry, per se, at people who think iroha is boring, it just kind of ticks me off that she’s brushed off so quickly in the larger fandom because of her demeanor. this doesn’t really apply to people who aren’t into the series at all yet, because i’d literally also think “okay so we have madoka, and madoka with a hood” if i were in your shoes! also, people are allowed to dislike characters for no reason. i’m just silly and go on long defensive rants over the sad magical girls, and would probably be sad if people didn’t like iroha because of the reasons i mentioned. 

all in all, i do reccomend magia record very much if you can get past the sexualization of the gacha cards and the, um... poorly designed outfits. because the NA server has been shut down, there are channels on youtube that graciously upload videos of the in-game stories as well as side stories! in the game, there are sometimes entire side stories for characters’ outfits. because it’s a gacha game, there are events and such, and the event stories i’ve seen and/or read (most of the ones i’ve read have to do with homura though) are a lot of fun. i reccommend checking out muffinrecord’s channel if you’d like to read any of the stories (hopefully you’re the type of person who can sit and watch live2d models move around with boxes of text on the bottom for 25 minutes like me). they have everything sorted into playlists in that section of their youtube. of course, i also reccomend watching the anime, if you’re interested! the animation is polished and nice, even if the story is a little hard to follow at times. but if not, that’s okay too. 

thank you for the ask, and i hope i could clear some things up for you!

[my-introvert-hideout]

Nakajima Atsushi: ISFJ [BSD]

Si > Fe > Ti > Ne

*Based off Season 1 of the anime [Chapters 1-12] with character-based spoilers from the Wikis. I’ve also read a synopsis of “The Untold Story of the Founding of the Detective Agency,” which gives lots of insight into Fukuzawa and Ranpo in particular, and also I know Yosano’s backstory. The Onsen Drama will also make an appearance occasionally. I feel like I have a good enough grasp on their characters for this and will only add more examples rather than changing types in the future. (At least, I think so.)

I’VE ALSO SEEN HIM TYPED AS: INFP, ENFJ

Si is a main aspect of Atsushi’s character. It’s true he seems to have mild PTSD but he also displays this function in a way that’s detatched from that. Atsushi first refused to join the ADA because it’s such a chaotic workplace that demands a lot of Se and situational adaptability. However, since Se is his fifth function, he can deal with it well enough and we see him switch into this function relatively easily during more dire moments. He just much prefers Si. Atsushi is also very in-touch with his past and it often dictates his actions as well as self-worth. His mild obsession with money stems from his upbringing, as well. He also displays a sentiment of not wanting others to experience what he has, which is Si working with a feeling function. Atsushi is also a bit naive, believing things at face-value and showing not much affinity for Ni -- which eliminates ENFJ (they also have an Si blind spot, so that doesn’t work with him). He’s also often seen as one of the more ‘normal’ members of the agency, probably because ISFJs are the most common type if the statistics are to be trusted. As an INFJ, I never really found the others to be weird per se. When trying to figure out ADA members’ previous occupations, Atsushi stuck strictly to sensory things like clothing, which is not what I would’ve gone to at all. I would’ve needed more time, as well. (But that could just be that the creators didn’t want to dwell on the scene too long.) I’m also trying out this theory that generally someone’s likes and dislikes correspond to whether or not they’re a sensor or intuitive.

LIKES: Yokohama, cats, chazuke, chameleons

DISLIKES: Himself, his old orphanage

These are all pretty sensory, but of course there’s room for intuitive arguments; perhaps he likes ‘feel’ of the city rather than anything concrete. Still more physically dominant, though.

Fe is very expressive, as Atsushi definitely is. He has pretty exaggerated reactions to the ADA members at times, which probably also stems from his Si since he hasn’t met a lot of people like them most likely. Despite being a bit timid, Atsushi has a quite extroverted side to him. INFPs can be extroverted, as well, but in an Ne way that doesn’t necessarily need people to be fulfilled. Atsushi likes being around others in an Fe way, with a bit of Si comradery / community sprinkled in. It doesn’t seem enough for him to be an ESFJ, though. He also tries to accomodate people often, like when Kunikida’s onsen advice wasn’t really being listened to. I feel like his Fe is one of his more obvious traits, so this doesn’t need much explanation.

When I first started watching, I was prepared for a pure, somewhat clueless protagonist and was pleasantly surprised when Atsushi’s kinda snarky Ti made an appearance. He can cycle between thinking and feeling pretty well, as shown when he decided to leave the ADA early on in the series; Atsushi seemed rather cold and determined in a Ti way.

His Ne is most blatantly obvious when he was trying to guess Dazai’s possible occupations; he was kind of all over the place with random guesses. Atsushi’s inferior Ne could also be drawn to Kenji’s auxillary Ne.

Te Blind Spot: Tension between Atsushi and Kunikida mainly come from their Fi-Fe Te-Ti differences. His decision to leave the ADA at the beginning was greatly due to his Fe-Ti axis, which is perhaps a reason Kunikida was confused as to why Atsushi was acting the way he was; they use different judging functions. ESTJs use Fe the least, after all, and an Ni blind spot probably didn’t help in figuring Atsushi out. This difference was also seen in relation to Kyōka, both in terms of bringing her to the police and on the boat.

Si-Ti Loop: ‘An ISFJ in a Si-Ti loop will replay past events, usually traumatic ones, and relive these past experiences in their head. They will also try to come to a logical reasoning for why these things happened, and overanalyze the situation. However, they would not be able to come to a conclusion and would instead become stuck in this loop of recalling memories and analyzing them. In addition, they lose some of their ability to interact with the outer world in a healthy way, and instead withdraw into themselves and neglecting to talk over their feelings with others in their life.’ source Atsushi’s Si-Ti loop is a main reason he has such low self-esteem; it reasoned that those things happened and he was treated so poorly because of a fault with himself. While that may be somewhat true, it’s not completely accurate, especially not to the degree that Atsushi seems to think it is.