#& i’ve been doing it so long it feels like innate behavior so

[ringneckedpheasant]

reflecting on some of my Behaviors as a child/teenager & I am starting to think I may also 1) have been having Compulsions & 2) some of my recurring intrusive thoughts are things i’ve been thinking about since I was very young & didn’t know what intrusive thoughts were & for some reason I never registered that Those thoughts were probably related to the other, more frequent/worse intrusive thoughts I started having as I got older

[stoned-eren]

summary: eren gives you sunflowers <3

t/w: none, pure fluff

word count: 1.2k

the sun was beating down on the earth, heating every surface that it touched. blades of grass were tinted a slightly orange color due to the sky’s influence. from afar, birds could be heard chirping, their unique sounds providing a sense of rhythmic tranquility.

eren’s skin prickled from the heat, but he paid no mind to it. he was just too focused. too determined.

after many months of living in silence, he was going to make it known. as scary as it was to him, he was going to finally admit his hidden feelings for you.

to leave himself emotionally vulnerable and potentially wounded wasn’t ideal to him. but he had no other options. 

after a particularly concerning incident where he caught another soldier flirting with you, he panicked, just a little. eren worried endlessly about the small interaction, almost convincing himself that you had reciprocated the stranger’s affection. even subtly threatening the soldier didn’t ease his uncertainty.

the only thing he was certain of, was that it was the right moment to confess. 

eren realized that he didn’t want you to be interested in anyone else. in fact, he didn’t want you to give anyone else even an ounce of attention. just him, only him.

he wanted to be your everything.

and he could be your everything, if you’d let him. ultimately, he wanted to know you, innately and intensely. to understand your quips and quirks, to resonate with your passion and drive, to comfort you when you needed it most. he was the one meant to be with you, he was certain of that.

eren tried to still his thoughts as he finally reached a field of flowers. despite all the expeditions they went on, eren was unfamiliar with this area, only briefly passing by it once or twice. the field seemed to go on forever, completely covered with large sunflowers teeming with life. 

each and every flower glistened, their petals a dazzling yellow color, while the center of the flower was arranged with dark brown seeds.

as he scanned through the endless field of gold petals, he couldn’t take his mind off of you. how’d you react, what you’d think, if you even liked sunflowers. 

despite how nervous it all made him feel, there wasn’t enough time for him to second guess himself. precious time- time that could be spent with you- was quickly weaning as the days passed by, making eren’s sense of urgency skyrocket. all he wanted was more time with you, more moments to share together.

undeniably, he dedicated himself to you- he was simply making it known to you.

eren intricately chose a small collection of sunflowers to bring back to you. they were vibrant in that sparkling gold color, the petals warm from the sun’s gentle touch.

when he was certain that these were the chosen flowers he was going to bring to you, he made the journey back to headquarters. the sky, painted an orange-rose hue, had puffy pink clouds that were guided by the air’s gentle breeze. leaves broke off their branches, cascading down onto the ground with grace and tranquility. 

finally, eren returned from the long journey in the sunflower field, now back at camp. the sun was beginning to set, as groups of soldiers were returning to the barracks after their dinner. eren spotted you by the mess hall, as you were walking alone and back to your room.

your ears perked up from the unexpected sound of your name being called. although you were ready to head to bed, you stopped in your tracks, turning around to meet the source of the noise.

it was eren.

he looked so shy.

“hey- where have you been eren?” you question him slightly. “you missed training.”

“i’ve been… around,” eren shortly replies, doing everything but making eye contact with you. with his face slightly flushed, his hands are awkwardly positioned behind his back, his stance aloof and avoidant.

making a mental note of eren’s abnormal behavior, your response is slow and gentle. “...well, captain levi has been looking for you, maybe you should go see him?”

“he can wait,” eren retorts. “i actually wanted to see you.”

“hm?” your eyes are sparkling, innate curiosity running through you. “what for?”

eren stands still for a moment, so stiff it looks as if he’s unable to move. briefly, he brings himself out of the state, looking into your eyes. there’s sincerity dripping from his gaze.

“i just…” he trails his sentence off. “i thought you would like these.”

slowly, he moves his hands from his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers, each and every one of them absolutely glowing despite the setting sun.

truthfully, you’re completely caught off guard. knowing eren, you expected something like a tactical training book or a tool to aid you in your combat. instead, you’re met with gentle petals and a pleasant floral aroma.

“they were really nice… and, i just think you’re nice too…” he can barely let out his sentence. 

“t-thank you,” you’re unsure of what to say, completely flustered by the man. “i’m very flattered, really…”

he gives you a brief, shy smile, though he can’t keep eye contact with you for long.

your eyes sparkle as you look through the varied bouquet of sunflowers, each and every one of them so uniquely beautiful. 

“they’re so pretty…” giving him a soft smile, you touch the petals with your fingers, tracing the soft texture with your digits. simply put, you’re in awe from their unmatched gracefulness. from eren’s unspoken kindness. from his consideration. from his affection.

“yeah…” eren mumbles.

he seems unsure of what to do next, what to say next. you’re just as clueless.

there’s a moment of silence exchanged between you two.

he swallows. “w-what i’m trying to say is… well, i like you.” 

“oh?” you give an awkward, yet heartfelt smile. “honestly, i had no idea… but i think that’s very sweet of you.”

eren stays quiet. his shyness is no longer apparent; he’s simply staring into your eyes. teal irises displaying so much unfiltered affection bore into your soul, sending light shudders through your body. your face is completely heated, while you’re trying to figure out the right words to say.

you stammer out your next sentence. “well- i might need some time to think. i just never expected this…”

he gives you a slow nod. “take as long as you need. i’ll be here.”

instinctively, you start playing with your fingers, alleviating your nerves as best as you can. with each passing minute, you can feel yourself growing smitten towards the man, completely charmed by how absolutely sweet he was towards you.

you clear your throat, your newfound affection for him starting to claw at the forefront of your mind. “i think- i should probably get going?”

your eyes shine bright as you give him one more genuine smile. you quickly tell eren goodnight, too embarrassed to be in his presence for much longer.

as eren walked back to his room, he wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. you didn’t outright reject him, but you didn’t necessarily accept his confession either. the realization made him slightly uneasy, but since you didn’t reject him- he figured that was a good sign.

he took what he could get.

besides; watching your eyes fill up with so much contentment, so much pure, unaltered happiness - it was something he had to see again. endlessly. just experiencing you that shy, that absolutely flustered and bashful- it was indescribable. 

effortlessly, you were everything eren could have wanted. everything eren could have dreamed of.

[autismcats]

what is the real hidden message of frozen 2′s “show yourself”?

so i got the inspiration earlier to finally rewatch that frozen 2 “show yourself” music video on youtube, and i had some thoughts in the middle of doing so.

as a disclaimer, i just want to say that i’m absolutely queer myself. this is not to discredit others’ interpretations of the song, and this is just my own take regarding my life experiences. i’m not claiming to speak for everyone in this post. in fact, i do still believe queerness has a lot to do with the subtext inside of the lyrics.

but anyway, i remember when the movie was in theaters at the end of 2019 and there were plenty of articles written about how “show yourself” has a hidden meaning about accepting the idea of being queer. there are lots of people my age who were new to identifying as lesbian, gay, bi, and/or trans at the time and i thought it made a lot of sense, especially because the headcanon and theory that elsa is a closeted lesbian was so popular at the time. it paved the way to shipping elsa + honeymaren (elsamaren) and made it easy to read frozen 2′s ending with them dating.

and that’s definitely notable ─ i’m not disagreeing!

but something always felt off about how i related to the lyrics personally and i was never sure why.

until i stumbled upon it again today.

in my opinion, i think the song is better heard with autism (or otherwise neurodivergency) in mind. it tells my story of finding the missing piece much better than it does of my realizing that i’m bi + trans, as well as my coming out.

again, i don’t think the LGBTQ+ reading is wrong! honestly i believe it comes down to a mix of both that and the autistic reading. but i see the latter outweighing the former here.

to me, i looked up these lyrics on google and my mind went straight to getting a diagnosis, an answer as to why my social life has always been so wrong:

i've never felt so certain all my life i've been torn but i'm here for a reason could it be the reason i was born? i have always been so different normal rules did not apply is this the day? are you the way i finally find out why?

everyone has something different to say about what part of their identity has impacted their experiences the most growing up. for me, it’s being neurodivergent. my sexuality, probably like most people (but of course not for many others), didn’t show up until my teenage years; same with my internal gender and outer presentation. my autism, however, has been present and influenced who i am for my whole life. i felt elsa’s longing and determination to find answers to her lifelong questions about not just who, but how & why she is in her musical journey throughout the ice caves.

i feel like we can all say confidently that who we are, regarding being queer, is something we can answer with the factual statement that we are queer and that’s just that, unless of course we get into the old debate regarding if it exists as nature vs. nurture. regardless, it’s always innate to some degree, and doesn’t inherently determine our personalities, behaviors, or understandings. autism & ADHD both do; it’s literally what defines autism as we know it.

that’s my argument. as i said, i’m not looking to “prove” anything or present my subjective opinion as objective fact. my take isn’t that the neurodivergent interpretation is more important or valid than the queer interpretation, just that i prefer the second option over the first.

either way, elsa is, without a doubt, an autistic sapphic! this is (part of) what makes her a valuable, relatable character to a lot of young people and we should always celebrate that. ♡

[sassygwaine]

parts of “unmasking autism” by devon price, phd that made me go oof

I do think when allistic people declare that everyone is a little Autistic, it means they are close to making an important breakthrough about how mental disorders are defined: why do we declare some people broken, and others perfectly normal, when they exhibit the same traits? Where do we draw the line, and why do we even bother doing so? (32)

All too often, the difference between who gets perceived as an innocent, shy Autistic and who gets viewed as creepy, awkward, and obviously disabled is more a function of things like race, gender, and body size than it is any innate difference in personality or behavior. (57)

I was basically a perpetual adolescent, performing intelligence for praise but mismanaging my personal life and not connecting with anyone in a deeper way. (85)

Once you’ve proven yourself capable of suffering in silence, neurotypical people tend to expect you’ll be able to do it forever, no matter the cost. (99)

When the entire world shames people for being into “childish” things, having odd mannerisms, or simply being irritating, you don’t need ABA to program you into compliance. Everyone around you is already doing it. (102)

Unfortunately, when an Autistic person complains about the sensory pain they’re in, people think they’re being overly dramatic, needy, or even downright “crazy.” … They acted as if I chose to be distracted and furious every day. (115)

We often seek out clear “rules” for good behavior, which we then adhere to rigidly, hoping they will keep us socially safe and finally render us worthy. (121)

When many of us were growing up, adults saw us as loud, stubborn, uncaring, overly reactive, and burdensome. We’ve grown up believing we truly are hard to be around, and to love. (144)

Today, his fiction readers tell him he’s fantastic at writing dialogue, and really understands how other people speak and feel. But it’s not because these things come naturally to him. He devoted thousands of hours to picking conversations apart to make sense of them. (161)

We’re more like the protagonist of the video game Katamari Damacy, a freaky, colorful demigod who rolls an ever-growing ball of objects around, each step forward attracting more random items into his ball’s expanding gravitational field until it engulfs the universe. We don’t complete discrete projects. We build worlds. (178)

It’s vital we learn to navigate interactions marked by conflict, and practice standing firm in the face of negative reactions from others. As long as we haven’t abused anyone or violated their rights, it’s okay for our actions to make others unhappy. (193)

At times, unmasking means teaching our neurotypical friends and family to treat us better; in other situations, it may mean disengaging from those who aren’t ever going to be worth the effort. (195)

[regarding friendships worth cultivating:] Who tells me honestly when I’ve hurt them, and gives me a real opportunity to do better? (205)

“I am not a math-minded type of Autistic…I am the kind who thinks about people obsessively.” (219)

In his writing, [Mike] Oliver described disability as a political status, one that is created by the systems that surround us, not our minds and bodies. (230)

Emotions that are too large, passions that are too childish and not profitable, habits that are too repetitive, and bodies and minds that require daily assistance all challenge this incredibly narrow definition of health. It is only by expanding our definition of what is acceptable human behavior and working to meet other people’s manifold needs that we can move forward. (233)

From the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, to Hans Asperger’s research on “high-functioning” Autistics, to the forced lobotomies performed on gay people and communists, immense violence has been done in the name of science and “protecting” the public. (247)

We all deserve to take a step back and ask whether our lives line up with our values, whether the work we do and the face we show to others reflects our genuine self, and if not, what we might want to change. (250)

[stick-named-figure]

♣️(the hollowheads)

🗺️

ask list

oughhhh anon you’re so real. this is really long. it has citations. i got a little carried away 👍

hollow head angst

dark

i’ve been thinking about her cause i’ve seen that head canon post and stuff, and then that other post on whether or not dark’s removed that line of code. like, if it’d been her own free will that she did everything in ava 5. like just. man.

plus, even if she did remove that line of code, i don't think it'd just be over there, y'know? like. dark showed up with a personality and everything once alan made her. suddenly having a innate need fulfilled doesn't make the behaviors for seeking that go away. from my own experience, it can make it feel worse for some time ("my needs are fulfilled, why can't i feel satisfied with it?")

that actually makes a notable argument for why ava 5 might've happened, because if dark did remove said code but still felt that destructive urge, she'd no longer want to destroy chosen (because having removed that code in the first place implies that she didn't want to either) but would instead have to find some other outlet for it. when the line was deleted would change exactly how i interpret the flashbacks in 5, but overall it seems to make sense.

maybe missions can break when a stick goes beyond that mission, like some sort of cutie mark shit or something. i think it's certainly a point that could be seen, though i'm not sure how to word it more seriously atm. it would also make sense, considering if dark's mission was to destroy the chosen one, she likely had plenty of opportunity to do so in their travels throughout the internet.

chosen

chosen represses shit! like, whether it's out of a sense of duty or just… because, we actively see chosen ignoring their trauma at the hands of alan to go after the virabot.[1]

we also know that chosen was upset with dark after having come back from ALANSPC (whether that was anger or sense of duty or something is something i haven't decided on yet) because they punch her across the bay. but the thing about all of it is that chosen seemed to legitimately believe that just saying "don't do that" would stop dark from… destroying the internet or whatever she was trying to do. which implies that that's worked before.

they just. seem to have (had?) some close relationship. or maybe i'm just over-reading it. idc. i think they have a close relationship and i think that showdown completely obliterated it (if dark is still alive). i hope she is, because she's my little meow meow but like also there is a lot of angst in her. not being.

also this has nothing to do with angst but while i was rewatching AVA 5 to verify my ideas and i think it's very important that

orange

i’ve gotta write about it more or something but i like to think that there’s a cultural gap between orange and the fighting sticks, and/or purple and king. there’s ALSO this gap between orange and alan because. one is a stick figure and the other is a real human being.

i do believe that it’s part of why orange is so attached to the fighting sticks, not to mention that orange doesn’t know that many others. like, 4 (5 including alan?) close friends is not unusual, or uncommon (or a small number), but to only ever see 4 others is a very small amount of people to be social with if sticks have similar social needs as humans.

so there’s that, and then that orange and the other sticks we see seem to operate very differently. like, being a hollow head at all comes with different physiology.[2][3]

it just makes sense to me that there is that feeling, that they have trouble relating to other sticks AND to alan.

plus, that separation anxiety that orange has. oh man. that terror that their friends will be hurt if they’re not there for them. orange has always been like that, like the “you ended my friends. now i will end you.” or the first nether arc, or ava 5, or parkour. can you imagine the way orange felt when they watched the nether portal disappear in episode 25?

not to mention that orange takes on all this responsibility for their friends, like, electing NOT to go through the other nether portals in season 1, and they probably feel to blame for showdown too! they externalize the blame[4] but while also taking responsibility, like, bad things happen to orange's friends and it's their fault for not going with them but it's ALSO their fault for having gone those places at all. y'know?

world building

good lord i can not contain myself about this. i have a lot of ideas and implications that i've picked up from watching this series like, probably 3 times total with some episodes (V, 22, 25, 29, 30) receiving… a few more rewatches than that.[5]

like… "how" things come to life definitely seems to be kinda… in proximity to the color gang (and then, by extension, alan). it ALSO doesn't seem to be uncommon for things to just. come to life.[6][7][8] i haven't particularly decided on some exact way of how things become alive but i definitely have a soft spot for it being toy story-like.

a lot of the apparent differences between sticks and humans is kinda… frustrating? to me because the reasoning behind it seems inconsistent at times. i also haven't fully fleshed out my ideas to make up for that disconnect and i'm a bit reluctant to like i said because i worry about it being completely bulldozed by future information.

i've said it before and i'll say it another hundred times but how human the stick city sticks are compared to sticks who are on desktops keeps me up at night. like they have festivals and concerts and money. (and also a legal system, because we see king sign a waiver). i suppose the legal system would likely emerge without the festivals and all that because social contracts are generally useful for large groups of people.

in more… solid answers i think there's a great deal of metaphors centered around the fact that they are made of code and (often) drawn. for example, in one of my fics, i use "draws on their emotions" as a saying intended to be similar to "wearing your heart on your sleeve." i'm still skeptical of the sticks having clothes in like… a very "i am taking it literally (autism)" kind of way, since unlike many stick figures in say, hyun's dojo, the sticks in ava/m are literally stick figures. i suppose my art only partially reflects that but it seems just a little too silly for me to paint the sticks being wire thin with my style.

but i'm digressing. the point i was making is that i don't want to talk about sleeves and hearts that might not exist at all for stick figures and so by extension i came to the idea that "drawing" and similar metaphors often mean that someone is being especially clear or obvious. i'm sure that i'll discover more figures of speech to use in the future, since wordplay is something i love very dearly.

---

[1]: Chosen recognizing ALANSPC in AVA V

[2]: Basketball

[3]: Color Confusion

[4]: Lush Caves

[5]: last night i realized ive watched the king like. at least 10 times.

[6]: Alan's conversation with programmer021 in AVA II

[7]: Stick Figure Rights (stickslavery.com) in AVA III

[8]: Alan's conversation with Darren in AVA IV

[earthbovndmisfit]

In a way I'd call Speedwagon the Anti-Dio. Both initial antagonists shown kindness by Jonathan, but one repays with hatred and the other repays with loyalty. Also Dio's influence continues to negatively affect the Joestars long after his death, but Speedwagon's influence continues to *help* the Joestars long after his death.

I’ve seen some posts about this same topic in the past, so it's not as crazy of an idea or as unheard of as it may seem at first.

For starters, both Dio and Speedwagon come from the slums. Both lived there in absolute poverty for years (in Dio's case, until he was 12-ish, in Spw's case, until his mid-to-late 20s at the very least). Both have seen all the horrible sides of life in the shape of terrible conditions and disgusting people. None of them have been shown kindness during their darkened years in the hostile environment of the slums, developing their respective defensive mechanisms as a way to survive in that place, and we can see that in the way they move within  -and climb up the ladder of- that underworld in the bits we're shown from Dio's childhood, as well as what we are told from Speedwagon's past as well as the implications of what we're shown about him (that he's a criminal, that he runs the deadliest and most dangerous place in London, how he earned the respect of all his men to the extent where he can command them with his word alone, and so on).

Dio and Speedwagon have very similar backgrounds, and one would even think that Dio would soften a little now that he was taken out of that world of misery while he was still very young and was offered a new chance at life, without any repercussions or prejudices, a privilege only a handful would get in a time period like that, but that was not the case, and I think Araki's own words explain clearly the reason behind this: "Dio accepts and embraces his evil nature and follows his dark path without hesitation", and which is something we see him do from the start, even in his slums years. This behavior becomes even more obvious once he's adopted by the Joestars, as he now has no reasons to be hostile. He receives kindness from both Jonathan and George, and he only repays them with hatred (disguised hatred in the case of George). Dio stops being a potential victim to willingly become an abuser for his own amusement, whether it is by verbally/physically abusing Jonathan and starting rumors about him, or simply by selling George the idea of "the perfect son" only to betray him when he no longer needs him in the picture.

And all that becomes even more remarkable when you realize that there was virtually no reason for Dio to do any abuse at all. He was seen as the perfect child ever since he was adopted, and actually fit in without even any effort, coming across as a well-mannered child (as opposed to Jonathan and his messy ways and lack of manners). He could have very well earned the Joestar fortune without doing most of the awful things he did over the years (most of which actually ended up being part of his downfall if you think about it). He shows a deep selfishness and has never cared about the Joestars, only about what he can gain from them, which is also why Araki has also stated that Dio feels no remorse about any of his wrongdoings towards any of them, even way after part 1. A bit of a side note here, but this “innate evilness” is also a core and key aspect of Dio as a character AND as a villain, and which is something Araki has stated he considers one of the most terrifying types of villains.

Speedwagon's case, however, is different in ways like those you mention. He comes from the same place than Dio (probably from a worse place, as we’re only told Dio lived in the slums, meanwhile we’re told that Speedwagon has lived his whole life up until PB’s timeline in Ogre Street, which is part of the slums and also confirmed as the worst and most dangerous part of London). He's been through similar experiences and has lived in that horrid place for at least twice longer than Dio ever did. And, unlike Dio, he never had been spared nor given a true second chance at life until he meets Jonathan. If anyone had "the right" to be a piece of trash and try to justify it as "my past and my circumstances made me do all this", it would have been Speedwagon, but he never does that. Instead, he decides to acknowledge his mistake and learn from it. He's met with kindness, and kindness he shows in return. This is also why he was able to call Dio out on his lies about his reasons for trying to murder his adoptive father, because he knows from first-hand experience what it is to be like in the literal gutter, to be treated like less than trash. He knows there's zero reasons for anyone in Dio's now privileged position to do all the horrible things he's done for years, and especially towards the people who even put him where he now is to begin with, and now adding to his ever growing list of crimes attempted murder towards George, the man who was not only his adoptive father but who we also must add was the only person to ever have loved Dio (as Jonathan even states at one point that he feels no affection towards Dio and even feels guilty about it).

What you mention about both men's influence even long after their deaths is true. I recall a post that put it something like “Speedwagon achieved everything Dio wanted -power, wealth and, in a way, immortality-, all without being a piece of shit”. Both Dio and Speedwagon attained immortality and power in their own ways. Dio by leaving his humanity behind and becoming a vampire, and Speedwagon through his hard work, the power he gained through his oil company and later on his foundation and the legacy he left behind. Both Dio and Speedwagon have made such an impact not only in regards to the Joestars but also on the world at large, negatively and positively respectively, with Dio’s actions being fueled by his evilness and his hatred towards the Joestars, while Speedwagon’s actions were fueled by his now freed kindness and his love for Jonathan (and later on extending to the rest of the Joestars).

[mangoisms]

hi so i remembered that you’re also a psych major and i was wondering if i could perhaps maybe get your opinion on a project?? if not that’s completely okay! i just would like a second opinion on the connection since the assignment is to connect psychology concepts to media, and i wanted to connect one to batman lol

so my connection was basically that batman is kind of a representation of the humanistic psychological approach because of his no killing rule? i felt that i could connect it because (this is only as far as i know, the thing is im not SUPER well versed in the comics lol) since he refuses to kill, he just sends them to arkham. and if i remember correctly he believes in rehabilitation for his rogues, and some of them have actually been able to change their ways, so it’s him cleaning up the streets with his belief that there is potential for good that is innate to all humans, which fits humanism really well if that makes sense lol idk 😭😭

but yeah if you don’t mind i’d really appreciate a second opinion but if not that’s totally okay!

omg of course!!! i’m honored to help… tho i do have to admit i had to look up what humanistic psychology is HAHA. wiki says a relation to maslow? who i am familiar with… and the field is in response to behaviorism and psychoanalytic theory, two fields i am also very familiar with, so i thinkkkkk i know what’s going on here but this might inform my response so just a heads up <3 and i mean of course definitely take Anything i say with a grain of salt LOLLL (and under the cut just so this isn’t too long on the dash)

i definitely think you can make something of it!!! i am also admittedly not that much of an expert with him, mostly by proxy, but i do think it is fair to say a true version of batman is supposed to believe in rehabilitation/in second chances. i also—totally unsolicited advice you don’t have to take but i was thinking about this while i was writing— have a couple other thoughts….

i think you could bring in maslow here as well with his hierarchy of needs and apply to gotham as well? without getting too sociological, it can be pretty safely said, discounting people like the joker who do Bad Things just because it’s fun and he’s an asshole, that crime runs rampant because needs aren’t being met? gotham is corrupt, the government doesn’t do its job, people get desperate, they turn to crime, bruce wayne does what he can to alleviate this with his wealth and status and batman can bridge the gap between the people in need and bruce wayne -> tie that back to batman’s innate belief in the goodness of people and giving them second chances, which i also think you can back up with canon evidence because i am 90% it is canon he saw joe chill and forgave him for what he did

but yes!!! i think it sounds super cool and i think there are a couple different ways to connect psych with batman, which is neat because i’ve never really thought about it like that! well i did once with my stress class and bruce and the amount of stress his body is under and how he hasn’t had a heart attack by now but ANYWAY yeah ^_^ good luck with it!! i hope i could help out a little bit? and if you need any more help/clarification, feel free to pop back in and talk to me! <333

[enneamage]

Back in July you mentioned you were going to make a series of posts under the #Parasocial Activity tag. What happened to those?

Whoops, I figured I dropped a thread somewhere. I was also trying to keep the blog more on-topic than I am nowadays so I could circle back to the topic again if people want to hear more about what I think. I know the use of the word and the attitudes around ‘being parasocial’ were driving me crazy but I got a lot out in that long post so I was satisfied for a while.

I can do one now honestly, my day just freed up.

I’ve been talking with a friend of mine a lot about how ‘parasocial relationships’ are a lot less of a binary then people treat them as right now. I’m working off of a very underdeveloped and non-academic understanding of how people are actually meant to use the word, but so are the people in the gaming space so it kind of breaks even. I still hold that Bo Burnham doing the initial “I love you!” “No you don’t you love the idea of me that’s a parasocial relationship” interaction still has this conversation by the throat and most haven’t fully moved past that deflection. I am clawing at the iron gates of Google Scholar, let me in.

As soon as people were able to type out ‘hi’ and receive a ‘hi’ back from a streamer or a celebrity of choice, things got real complicated real fast in terms of parasocial thinking. I’ve been talking to that friend about their venture into Kpop and the way that some of the apps available in Korea are designed to accommodate for crowd-idol contact, and it seems like in the grand scheme of things we’re going to be moving a bit closer to that as a planet rather than further away. I don’t think this is innately bad but we do need to get smarter with how we talk about this kind of social contact, because we’re going to keep moving in this direction as people and it will be good to be able to talk about mental and social skills around it.

The ‘sin’ that doesn’t get talked about is that public figures relate to their audience parasocially as well. Most CCs have a loose sense of the character of their audience, because it’s basic human behavior to seek out patterns, especially if they’re going to affect you in some way. While talking with my Kpop friend it came up that positive (or any) feelings for groups and collectives outside of knowing someone on a face-to-face basis is treated as more valid in collectivistic cultures. Inversely, the rugged individualists of the Americas and Europe focus on the inner and outer workings of the individual, sometimes to an excessive degree. ‘I love my audience’ is sometimes taken as immediate bullshit among jaded people who are suspicious of anything parasocial, but logically it varies from case to case. (Ironically this is the ‘you can’t love me you don’t know me’ logic as well.)

Even if you let someone into your life and have regular personal contact with them, they can still get you wrong. Feeling misunderstood and unheard is one of the most basic human problems, and while parasocial contact can put that on blast for the sheer volume of people and the imperfect information they have to work with, it’s not determined by the social-parasocial divide. Not everyone is going to come to the same conclusions about someone because not everyone has good judgement or can #relate, but the idea that nobody who hasn’t spoken a direct word to someone personally can understand someone at least a little just seems divorced from reality.

It all just comes back around again to me thinking that it’s dumb to use ‘parasocial’ as a gotcha in the year 2023, as though ‘being parasocial’ is a thing you become if you’re bad and not just a human who is exposed to another human and thinks about them in any depth.    

[apathyakaza]

Spending time with myself while I’m extremely tired really gives me good insight into the mechanics of my mind, maybe it’s because the side of me that makes sure everything I say/type is digestible clocks out half way through the all nighter.

For example half the emotions I feel are more of me trying to avoid a negative consequences from high empathy ppl like instead of knowing to not pour out all the dish soap on the floor came from child me not wanting to be denied affection or my tv time taken away, not because it makes my parents sad.

Which typing that out it sounds like I’m secretly a heartless wench that’s just waiting for my person of interest to turn around so I can be evil but it’s more like a mechanical approach to understanding emotions rather than an innate understanding of emotions. Grownup me wouldn’t pour out dish soap simply because it’s a waste of effort. I wouldn’t push someone over or bully anyone because I’ve experienced that & seen peoples reactions to that behavior & I overall see it as a waste of time and a hinderance.

Then the biggest question is if someone that learned how to navigate emotions from reading the peoples reactions around them like a manual and can understand not to hurt the people around them from their responses but doesn’t truly feel the desire to not commit those actions does that truly make them heartless, can a empath based on logic instead of emotions exist? It logically pains me to bully someone because I could simply walk away from them instead of wasting my energy constantly bulling them, it logically pains me to see another person bullying another person because I know they could just walk away & not inconvenience the person their bullying & the people that see them

I’m not saying that I don’t feel emotions period, I do but the thing has to be really special to me. I feel wide ranges of emotions but once another persons well-being encroaches on my feelings about a situation I feel apathetic to the topic.

Maybe these feelings aren’t as unique as they make me feel, just seeing people saying “accept low empathy people” really made me think about my lack of emotional empathy but my understanding of emotions. Some would wonder how someone with a manual POV would know right from wrong if they can’t feel the difference & the way I differentiate the 2 is from philosophy.

I’ve been interested in philosophical topics since a child, and one of the reasons I love anime so much is because the shows I watched as a child gave me a sense of honor that I’m going to stick to because it makes the most sense in the long run. I gain nothing from being an insufferable dickbag, it just puts my game on hard mode-I’m not a kiss up but I try not to be purposely mean.

Idk man I’ve just pulled an all nighter this might not make sense at all haha, anyways gn/gm streaks zzz

[that-is-just-so-typically-me]

Today in a low moment I felt really tempted to engage in a habit I’ve been trying to unlearn and ideally stop, because it’s self-harmful and actively prevents me from achieving something I know that I want for myself in the long-term. But suddenly in my mine’s eye I saw myself the last (thousand) times I did it, feeling so many negative feelings, mostly helplessness and like what I know to be good for me was impossible for me to fight my urges to achieve. I suddenly felt a reframing of that old song and dance in my head: that I do not trust myself. I’ve rarely put language to such feelings, though I know I have struggled with immense self-doubt most of my life. It just hit me all of the sudden as I was fighting this urge that I could understand this as almost if there were a triumvirate within me: the one who feels the urge, the one who hurts when I indulge in it, and the one who knows that I will hurt far worse later by indulging than I will hurt right now by abstaining. That last voice was speaking to me (like, metaphorically, to be super clear) saying, “But you promised you wouldn’t do that to her”. And it felt like if I indulged, that voice would turn to that hurt-self now bracing for impact and say “See? I told you we couldn’t trust them.” Which like, probably just sounds like another way in which my internalized shame manifests itself, but it’s really just guilt, in the sense that shame is purely harmful, but guilt is useful in that it lets us know we acted against our personal values. Sitting in this new vantage point, I immediately felt quite a bit more empowered to fight back against that urge. I didn’t indulge. I suppose it could be a way to allow me to act from the part of me that is capable of an incredible sense of duty to keep my word and to avoid harming those I love. Theoretically, if I could do, and did, something that made a friend feel as terrible as I end up feeling when I indulge in that self-harming habit, I would be devastated and NEVER do that thing again. But I make myself feel that way all the time, and I just keep on doing it over and over. Of course I don’t trust myself - I rarely do anything to earn my own trust when it comes to things like this. There’s this huge part of me that knows it’s in a position of vulnerability when it comes to self-harmful habits of mine, because it knows I’ll choose the self-harm almost every time. And I know the dissonance between how I trust myself to not hurt others and how I don’t trust myself not to hurt myself is all because I simply do not place value and worth on myself the way I do others. Even as I write this I am realizing that is why I self-harm (I mean, in my treatment of myself and usually not literally) more when I have been rejected or abandoned, or when I experience a similar blow to my self-esteem from someone else. Those times are when I devalue myself the most. But maybe this might be Trojan horse - sort of tricking myself by externalizing and othering that inner self that deserves my best behavior, that deserves to trust that I’m not going to be self-harmful. There is such an innate strength to my ability to show up for those I feel beholden to - and I have to find out how I can feel so beholden to myself one way or the other. It’s something to talk to my therapist about at least 💚 I have already gained so much by getting over my discomfort with “inner child” work, and though it feels strange and a bit unnerving to view yourself as somewhat an exclusive entity unto itself, I suppose that’ll always start off as an alien feeling when you’ve spent your whole life neglecting your internal concept in favor of centering that of others. So far I’ve integrated a lot of my “healed inner child” (still a little embarrassing for me somehow?) into my sense of self, to the extent that I seldom still think of my self-work as me and “my inner child” - mostly just me. So maybe if I go forward with this mindset, one day it’ll happen organically and without all of this inner mind theatre, haha.

[artsyfangirl]

Soo! Expanding on Sheik’s relationship with the Goddess Hylia and her Chosen Knight! As well as some other things…

So, when Sheik went to the past, he got really close to them. They became friends, not unlike Link, Zelda, and Groose in SS. Hylia encouraged and comforted him a lot during the process of becoming the Goddess Sword, so he was super attached to her, and the Hero was also very close to Sheik.

Hylia probably would’ve been a motherly figure for Sheik, who had lost his mother at a young age, due to the extermination of the Sheikah. She guided him and consoled him, not unlike her behavior toward the Hero of the Wild. I don’t think Sheik ever told her how he felt, though. Just another regret to add to the list.

The Hero was likely either a fatherly figure, or perhaps a brother? A respected peer(ish). The two had an easy comradery. The Hero was family.

They were a family, a mismatched, taken and put back together family, but they made it work. Well, until Demise, that is.

I’ve already been of the mind that Sheik had a sibling, ever since I came up with the idea. And it’s always been a younger sibling, and is leaning desperately in the little sister direction. Younger sisters for protagonists are just a thing in Zelda, aren’t they?

But I have no idea what her name would be, or what their parents’ names would be. What did their parents do to bring in money? What was Sheik’s early childhood like? All of this is stuff I’d like to explore. So if you’re interested in helping me develop this AU, don’t be afraid to reach out!

Also, I feel the need to touch on something I said earlier in this post. About the ‘process’ of becoming the Master Sword. If his spirit had been all that had been used, it wouldn’t be as reliable, his soul wouldn’t be innately tied to the metal of the blade. But if the blade were, in some way or shape, his physical body? That would be a strong connection. While you could use the transfiguration method on this, I prefer angst to use to develop Sheik and Hylia. So uh- our boy has too much experience with a hammer. Or whatever. Don’t know how it was actually done, but he was physically turned into the Master Sword. I’d say that the Sages were the ones to keep him from dying, if that makes any sense. You can’t have a sword if the boy dies before it’s complete. But they may also have simply cast blessings during the process. Either way, they were still involved in the sword’s creation in this universe.

And no, no names like ‘Legend of Sheik’ or anything like that, that’s not only a no brainer, but also just… boring. It needs something clever and unique. I feel I will be running in circles looking for a name for quite a while. Alas, such is the burden of an author who’s no good at naming things. I’m like, a step or two above Asgore from UnderTale. Like, not completely hopeless, as I do get good ideas from time to time, but still really bad.

Everlasting Spirit? Trials of the Eye? Son of the Goddess/Hylia? Survivor in/of the Sword? Fire of the Servant? The Flames Of Shadow? The Flames Of Darkness? The Flames Of Sheik? This is slowly getting stranger and stranger. I’m thinking of something closely connected to Sheik himself and the Sword, but honestly, something more sword and less sheik is okay. I want something that sounds and feels right, like Linked Universe, Linked Maze, or other popular AUs. This needs an actual working name, not something cobbled together or temporary like ‘Sheik Sword’ or ‘Sheik Of The Sword’ or whatever. This is going to take so long to find a name for… please, if you have an idea, put it in the comments. Or replies? Using the term comments makes more sense for what this post is, but replies suits the fact that this is a Tumblr post. IDK.

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

[certified-dumbass02]

Gold Rush (pt.2)

Pt.1:

~*~

You hear your name shouted eagerly in that raspy voice you adore, and it’s everything you love to hear but can’t afford to hear.

She bounds over to you, blonde locks glinting under the neon lights of the bar. Her smile is wide, pretty and rounds out the edges of your whole world; the hold this woman doesn’t realize she has over you is exactly the reason you never wanted to love her, but somehow you still can’t bring yourself to regret it.

She slides up next to you, leaning on her arms on the table.

“Hey there, Y/N,” she winks, and you feel your stomach flutter in spite of yourself.

You tip an imaginary hat at her with faux politeness. “Comrade.”

She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, and you errantly admire the full pinkness of it before you startle yourself back into reality. “-you been? Haven’t heard from you today.”

You blink, and Karly, no Kate’s drink comes into focus. It’s the first time you’ve thought about her since Yelena walked inside, and you’d feel bad but you know it’s not a choice; you’re helpless and there’s not much you can do to get over her when she’s right in front of you.

You grimace, and rub your neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’m uh, actually on a date right now. She’s in the bathroom.”

Yelena’s mouth drops open and her body tenses. “What do you mean you’re on a date right now? You didn’t tell me you were going on a date, how long have you been seeing this girl, who is she?”

Your startled by the rapidness of her demanding questions, but stammer out the answers. You’ve never seen this fierce seriousness in her, because she’s usually so nonchalant and easy going.

“Kate Gosser? What? Absolutely not, no, she sleeps with everyone!” Yelena splutters, face getting red. “You can’t date her!”

You raise your brows in disbelief, because even if you’re in love with her you can’t let her tell you what to do and get away with it. You’re not even committed to defending Kate, it’s more that you have an innate aversion to letting Yelena go unchallenged.

“Oh well that’s rich coming from you, Black Widow,” the nickname drips with sarcastic venom from your throat, every resentful and jealous thought you’ve had about the guests to Yelena’s bed behind it. “Have you slept with her, is that how you know?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d never sleep with her. I have taste,” she shoots back immediately.

You open your mouth to retaliate but are interrupted by Kate approaching cautiously. You’re not sure if she heard your conversation with Yelena, but she can clearly see the tension radiating off the two of you.

“Hey Y/N,” Kate says tentatively, glancing at Yelena, whose jaw is locked in a scowl. “Is everything alright here?”

You start to respond but Yelena answers for you, cold and clipped. “Everything’s fine.”

You kick her lightly under the table but force a sickly sweet smile at Kate. “Yes, everything’s okay. Kate, this is my friend, Yelena. She just walked in a minute ago.”

Your date seems to accept your answer, and smiles at both you and your angry Russian, who merely quirks an elegant, unimpressed brow. “Cool, I feel less bad now because I think I’m going to have to head out. I really enjoyed tonight, but I have work really early in the morning so I better go.”

You nod at her. “Oh that’s too bad, but I totally understand.”

Kate grins. “Well I’ll see you later, call or text me anytime.”

She goes to hug you, but Yelena stands solidly in between you, unmoving. You kick her again and she finally budges, if only an inch. Kate squeezes in the space and kisses you on the cheek. You feel the molten green glare like smoldering coals from a fire.

Your date pulls away, and Yelena petulantly takes a long drag from your drink as she waves goodbye to her.

Kate walks out, oblivious, and you both turn fiery eyes at each other.

“What the hell is your problem, Yelena?”

She looks mockingly surprised. “My problem? I don’t have a problem. You have a problem choosing suitable women, is my only problem!”

You scoff at her. “Once again I believe you’re projecting your own behavior onto other people.”

“So you’re saying I have a problem picking bad dates.”

“Yes.”

“While you’re out dating Kate Gosser.”

“It was one date, I don’t know why you’re so pissed about it!”

It’s then she goes quiet. Her brows go up and she bites her lip as she toys with her fingers on the table. Something has changed, but you have no idea what; the fire in her goes out as she takes in a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I did pick the worst person to fall in love with. You’re my problem, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen as she shakes her head, scoots back her chair and leaves the bar, alarm bells going off in your head as you sit paralyzed. It takes you a second to process what she said, what you think she said, but when you do you’re shooting out of you own chair and chasing after her.

It takes you a few minutes to catch up with her, but finally you see her ahead of you, walking swiftly but stiffly, like if she stops moving she’ll break down.

“Yelena!” You shout, and when she turns to look at you, you know you have no choice but to tell her you love her, just like you have no choice but to love her to begin with. “It is the natural condition of mankind to want you!”

She furrows her brow in confusion as you slide up to her, panting and yelling.

“Everyone, absolutely everyone wants you. I hate that. It’s like a requirement to live in this town. ‘Do you like Yelena Belova? Yes? Welcome in!’ I hate that. You’re like the human version of a gold rush and I hate that too!”

She looks at you in absolute bewilderment. “I’m not sure if those were compliments or insults-“

“The one thing that I can’t hate is you-“

“-thank you?”

“I can’t hate you even though I very much want to sometimes because what I really hate is being a cliche. I don’t like to do what everyone else does and here I am doing it anyway because you’re you and how could I not?”

“I still don’t understand what you’re saying,” she pleads, and it comes rushing out of you because you’d do anything to make that hurt look in her eyes go away. “You’re my problem! I’m in love with you!”

It’s like she’s been hit with a truck. “Wh-what?”

“I love you! Te amo! Je t’aime! However the hell you say it in Russian, that’s what I do to you!”

She blurts something out breathlessly, and your eyes widen as you register what it is.

“Wait, that’s-“

She says it again, nodding, and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit over the head with a brick or a grand piano.

“That night, you were telling me that night that you love me?”

Yelena steps closer to you slowly, as if you might disappear if she goes too fast. She’s gazing at you in awe, like she’s struck, and you know a similar expression must be mirrored on your own face. “I was,” she smiles so gently at you. “It was the night the Black Widow retired.”

“So you haven’t been with anyone since then?”

The blonde shakes her head simply.

“But that was months ago. You’ve loved me that long?” You ask in disbelief, reaching out with your hand to grab hers. It fits warm and snug against your own.

“Much longer,” she admits sheepishly, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles. “And you? How long have you loved me?”

You grin and squeeze her hand. “When you compared yourself to an onion, like Shrek. That’s when I realized I was in love with an idiot.”

She looks at you in absolute wonder; it’s like the whole of the galaxy is in her eyes as you move even closer together.

Your hands move up to cup her face and her pretty blonde eyelashes flutter shut as you lean in to finally kiss her.

It feels like coming home.

She sighs in content as you part, nuzzling her nose against yours when you lay your foreheads together.

“You’re not going to call Kate Gosser back, are you?”

You kiss her again, grinning against her lips.

“Absolutely not. I’ve struck gold.”

[openvacant]

A lot of the discussions about practicing kink safely are a tiny bit alienating to me as someone who wants a 24/7 TPE dynamic with long term behavioral and personality changes. And you know what, that’s okay. What I am drawn toward and find fulfilling is extreme. Some of the intense long-term conditioning I’ve been through has changed how I think and what my priorities are and even how my body responds to stimuli. I find that incredibly hot and emotionally moving. But I understand that it comes with risks and that it’s not what most people want.

But it is lonely, navigating kink spaces and reading the resources people put together, and seeing something I have requested, advocated for, negotiated to get, and consented to be portrayed as abuse. People in kink talk about how the difference between abuse and play is consent, but then will label certain activities, certain levels of control, certain restrictions and forms of conditioning as innately abusive or as red flags. And that doesn’t add up.

For example, I reblogged a list of hypno play red flags a week or so ago, which identified some of the long-term emotional and physical changes I am working toward and actively *want* to experience as being signs of abuse. Feeling pain when disobeying your Dom, for example, was taken as a sign of being abused. Experiencing pleasure when taking part in an activity you don’t actually enjoy was another one. These are two things I find incredibly hot and appealing and have worked toward, actively in my submission, for some time. 

It doesn’t bother me that most people would never want that, or that it’s being presented as something for new and vulnerable subs to look out for. But the idea that my goals and dreams are creepy and insidious in the eyes of most of the hypno community? That really does make me a little sad. It makes me feel like I can’t open up about what I’m doing. And isolating oneself like that, as we all know, is not effective for preventing abuse. 

Similarly, I see a lot of posts in the kink world declaring that it’s objectively wrong for a relationship to be assymmetrical in terms of who gets to have sex with other partners, or date other people. Or even posts just saying it’s flat out wrong to want exclusivity out of a relationship. Polyamory is what makes a lot of people’s hearts sing, and that’s great. But I like and want a relationship where my Dom has control over when and if I have sex with somebody else, and though I do emotionally need them to be mindful of how their actions affect me, I like the idea of them having freedoms that I do not have. Yeah, relationships where one partner controls the other’s sexuality are often abusive! But the difference between kink and abuse... is consent. and this whole assymetry was explicitly my idea and fantasy and what makes my heart sing when I think about it, personally. 

Idk, many of these lists of red flags and bold declarations about what is safe and good and what is bad and dangerous are perfectly useful for complete newbies. or for people who approach kink as this playful activity between two equals that begins and ends with the scene. but if you’re going for something more long term and committed, if you have darker and edgier dreams, if you’ve deliberately sought out and cultivated a dynamic where there is intense control, and that’s what you want... it’s really easy to feel stigmatized, even within the kink community. and that’s a real fucking shame, and we should all know better than most communities how much people need space to feel like their desires are okay, and that they are okay as they are. 

i was ashamed of my desire to be hypnotically controlled for many years. it feels like it was a desire i was born with. i dont remember life without fantasizing about it. yet i didnt speak a word of it to anyone until i was about twenty eight. and getting to practice brainwashing and hypnosis play with people after that, and find some corner of the community i could be welcomed within, it was quite soothing. i went from thinking i was a sick freak who was the only person in the world who fantasized about what i fantasized about, to realizing i wasn’t alone, and that a fulfilling life was possible for me. it sucks that even within the community tho, my more intense desires and dreams sometimes activate all that shame all over again -- and get discussed by other people as if they’re some horrible thing. 

“kink shaming” is a term that people use pretty lightly. it’s seen as not all that damaging. usually the phrase is evoked as a joke. but what’s a worse experience, a more isolating and psychologically damaging one, than shame? and why would we, a community of mostly queer, gendernonconforming, marginalized people, think that it’s a light thing for a person to be ashamed of their sexual needs and deepest dreams? 

idk man. there used to be a Fetlife group for people who were genuinely into and practicing long term brainwashing in real life. it got deleted. hypno content gets deleted off most of the porn sites because its viewed as innately coercive and abusive. im sick of being treated like there is something wrong with me. there isn’t. if people know of spaces where people are openly discussing or writing about long term, serious conditioning, personality changes, desire changes, behavior modification, identity changes, etc thru hypnosis and brainwashing and training, let me know! because it would be cool to hear from other people who are consenting to this stuff and want to do it in a risk tolerant way and document their wins and losses and fun discoveries. 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Stuck

Prompts: Uhh hi. Wanted to know if you could write something with Logan brin hurt (emotionally, mentally, physically, doesn't matter as long as he's hurt) and Patton, Virgil, and Roman aren't there for him for whatever reason so Remus and Janus take care of Logan and there's a lot of Logan being pulled into and set on laps and just Janus and Roman being Protective? I'm a sucker for hurt logan and Protective Janus and Remus. Okay thanks, have a good time. - anon

 hey there! i absolutely love your fanfics! if possible (and feel free to ignore this), could you write some roloceit angst and hurt/comfort? perhaps with roman being the comforter and logan or janus being the hurt one? again, feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to write this, no pressure - anon

 Can I request some Janus and Virgil or Logan cuddles? - anon

 The answer to all of the above is yes and we switch RIGHT back into projecting-onto-Logan mode!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: roloceit, background platonic lamp, dlamp, dlampr

Warnings: stimming, getting caught in a stim loop

Word Count:  4558

Occasionally, Logan will get stuck.

 Not in a logic loop, no, he’s quite adept at getting out of those, but in certain patterns of behavior. He’ll find himself absentmindedly swinging his arm back and forth and the moment he notices it, he will be unable to stop. It will simply swing there, back and forth, completely unconsciously, and only by someone else walking past and asking him what he’s doing, or tapping him, will he be able to stop.

For the most part, it’s just an annoying inconvenience. It takes him longer to do tasks than it should. It prevents him from engaging in serious conversations when necessary. Occasionally, Roman will also get stuck in a similar fashion and the two of them will shake their heads until they can unstick themselves.

 Other times…

 “Damnit, no, that’s not what I meant.”

 “Well, what did you mean? Because it kind of sounds like you don’t want me to be in your space at all, except your space is the entire Mindscape!”

 “Kiddos, just—calm down—“

 “We can’t, Padre, you know we can’t.”

 “Listen, this whole thing started because—“

 How did this whole thing start?

 Logan curls his fingers around his water bottle and leans back against the couch, closing his eyes as the others continue bickering.

 Thomas had gotten into a small argument earlier today. Nothing too significant, nothing that would drastically impede their friendship, nor chance a cut-off of communication. But enough to make Virgil shoot up protectively the second Thomas got back.

 Roman hadn’t wanted to do anything except immediately apologize. Patton had wanted to talk through everything with Thomas to make sure they understood it. Virgil hadn’t wanted to do anything because Thomas was already stressed.

 Logan—

 Well, Logan’s not sure what to do.

 He doesn’t want to—

 Well. He doesn’t want to do anything.

 Thomas should give his friend time to relax and get a clear head, giving himself time to do the same. They had both reacted emotionally due to the differences in the way they associate emotions with the things that they care about. Thus, in order to reach a conclusion that would satisfy both parties, they needed to determine the best way to explain their differences and work together. The problem arose when figuring out how to communicate something that innate.

 “If we try and say that this is just how we think,” Virgil says firmly, “we’re gonna come off as patronizing or condescending.”

 “But if we don’t say it at all,” Patton points out, “then we’re just going to hurt them again!”

 “So it would be best if we just went away?” Roman throws his hands up. “The first thing we have to do is apologize. We hurt them.”

 “But we’re not responsible for their emotions. We have to talk to them before we can do anything like apologize.”

 “But then it just sounds like we’re preaching at them!”

 “Think of it this way: if you knew that someone was specifically holding their emotions back so that you could feel better, how would you feel?”

 “That was not the right thing to say, Patton,” Virgil mutters under his breath.

 Logan taps his fingers against his water bottle. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

 “Roman—“

 “Putting that aside,” Virgil says quickly, “we have to talk about how—“

 They’ve been at this for—how long? Logan can’t remember. They’re feeding off of each other at this point, caught in a feedback loop. Roman will say something, Virgil will point out how that doesn’t make sense to him so how could it make sense to someone else, Patton will try and bring the conversation back to feelings, and on and on they spin. Logan has no emotional stake in this—not that he has much of an emotional stake in anything—and thus he tried to stay quiet, to let them speak.

 He’s already been asked to let them do so many times.

 So he sits quietly, tapping his fingers against his water bottle. Tap, tap, tap.

 “Do you just want me to leave? Should I get some paper plates for myself?”

 “No, kiddo, that’s not what we want—“

 “That would make me feel worse because then it feels like you aren’t comfortable down here.”

 “Well, I’m not! I’m already at max capacity, trying to figure out what you all need from this and all we’re doing is adding more rules for how I’m supposed to behave!”

 “Virgil,” Roman says, “what do you think the rules are? What are we missing about how Thomas is acting?”

 “I just told you all of them!”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “But we don’t know what those rules are, if you were to just tell us—“

 “But you’ve told me them so many times, hell, I helped create some of them!”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “But there may be rules that you see as rules that we don’t care about, so—“

 “Because it’s not your job to care about them, Princey.”

 “So help me understand! I don’t want to make this harder on you!”

 “You’re not responsible for my emotions.”

 “But I can’t think like that, Virgil. If I tell you to do something or—even if I just say something or bring it up then you’ll get mad at me and I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

 “But you’re not responsible for that.”

 “You’re still going to be mad at me!”

 “Damnit, no, that’s—no, Princey, that’s not true.”

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 Their voices keep getting louder. His tapping grows frantic. They ring in his ears, even with his eyes closed he can see their faces. He can see Virgil’s eyeshadow getting deeper, he can see Roman’s expressions getting more defined, he can see Patton getting slowly more frustrated. He can hear the tension in the room about to snap.

 They’re all about to start yelling at each other and he can’t do anything to stop it.

 All he can do is tap, tap, tap, on his water bottle.

 “What’re you all shouting about?”

 “Go away, Remus.”

 “Oh, but I just love showing up where I’m not invited.”

 Something heavy lands on the couch next to Logan. He does not look up from his water bottle, he does not open his eyes, his fingers do not stop tap, tap, tapping.

 “Remus, don’t do that, you almost landed right on…”

 Virgil’s voice trails off.

 “…Logan?”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “Logan, are you okay?”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “Fuck, guys, shut up.”

 “Virgil!”

 “Language, kiddo.”

 “No, really, guys, Logan’s not okay, be quiet.”

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 “But I think it’s interesting how—“

 “No, guys, really,” Virgil says again, his tempest tongue coming out a little, “shut up.”

 “Lolo?”

 Ah, that must be Remus. A soft voice beside him, blocking out the others into a distant murmur, a warm hand on his shoulder.

 “Lolo, can you hear me?”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 Remus curses. “I’m taking this.”

 “Rem—!”

 Logan doesn’t hear the rest of Patton’s cry as Remus grabs him by the shoulder and sinks out, into another living room, perhaps, judging by the fact that they land on a very similar couch.

 “It’s okay, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulder, “you’re okay, this won’t last forever. I already called for Jan-Jan.”

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 “You’re doing great, just keep breathing, okay?”

 The water bottle cap smushes uncomfortably against Logan’s mouth, how long has he had it here?

 “You’re okay, Lolo, this won’t last forever, just stay with me.”

 The others aren’t here. No one is yelling. There will be no emotional spillover, everything will be okay. Everything is okay.

 Logan’s tapping grows less frantic, settling back into a smooth rhythm on the bottle.

 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

 Remus’s hand never leaves his shoulder, still rubbing warm, patient circles.

 “They should’ve known better,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “fucking morons.”

 Something about Remus’s tone worms its way into Logan’s hands, gentling his fingers to a stop. He cups the smooth, cool metal of the water bottle and takes a deep breath. Remus stills.

 “…Lolo?”

 He blinks his eyes open.

 Well, he was correct. They are in the Dark Sides’s living room. He turns to look at Remus.

 “Be honest,” he says in a surprisingly even voice, “how red is my face right now?”

 Remus blinks. “Not one bit, actually.”

 “Well, that’s good.”

 “Yeah.” Remus looks down and gently tugs on the water bottle. “Can I have this?”

 “No, thank you.”

 “Okay. Can I hug you?”

 “Yes, why—oof!”

 To be honest, he probably should have expected to be all but tackled into the couch, considering that is the primary way Remus shows affection to Roman. Still, his back hits the sofa with a surprised gasp as Remus’s weight comes to rest on top of him.

 “A little warning next time would’ve been appreciated.”

 “Sorry.” Remus props himself up on his elbows. “Am I hurting you?”

 “I can’t imagine lying on top of a water bottle is very comfortable.”

 Remus lets him move it off his chest before flopping back down and snuggling closer.

 “You okay?”

 “I’m perfectly adequate.”

 “Not what I asked, Brainiac. You were stuck. And upset.”

 Logan quiets. Remus must be able to tell that he’s thinking; after a second, he turns and goes to pull away. The sudden absence of warm pressure above him hurts.

 “No—“ he catches onto Remus’s back— “stay?”

 “…Lolo,” Remus says quietly after a moment, “Lolo, move your arm a little.”

 “What? Why?”

 “Don’t want to hurt you when I lie back down, shift a bit.”

 Logan shifts, letting Remus settle back down on top of him and lift his arm over his shoulder. He rumbles, low in his chest, pressing Logan firmly against the couch.

 “Can we just…stay like this? For a bit?”

 “Sure, Lolo.”

 Remus is warm and solid, somehow radiating the energy that if anyone so much as tries to get near them right now he’ll gnaw their arm off. That’s not an empty threat. One of his hands flops off the couch, keeping his fingers just brushing the carpet. Logan takes a deep breath, feeling Remus move.

 Oh.

 Oh, dear.

 “What?”

 Did he say that out loud?

 “Yeah, you did.”

 “Hmm,” Logan mumbles, “well, that’s not ideal.”

 “Yeah, I gathered. But that’s kinda my thing so, spit it out, Lolo.”

 “I have come to the realization that I entered the stimming cycle while in my operative mode, which means that I cannot fully disengage from it until I know the problem is resolved.” Logan sighs. “Which I can’t do until I reestablish an emotional balance.”

 “Can you put that in layman’s terms?”

 He winces. “I don’t know if I can. My vocabulary tends to increase exponentially as my level of exhaustion climbs.”

 “Yeesh.” Remus sits up, sliding onto the floor and prompting an involuntary noise from Logan wondering where he’s going. “C’mere.”

 Remus hauls him into his lap. Logan’s a little too tall to fit his head under Remus’s chin, but Remus plants his face square in Logan’s collarbones and hangs on tight.

 “You’re gonna be fine, Lolo,” Remus says softly, “just…try and take a minute, yeah? Maybe you’ll be a little less exhausted.”

 “But I can’t, Remus,” he whispers, “I can’t—I can’t start calming down until the problem’s solved and I can’t solve the problem unless I—I—“

 “Ah, shh, shh,” Remus hushes, leaning back to place a finger against Logan’s mouth, “first off, you already explained it better than you did a moment ago, and second, the three of them actually are capable of solving their own problems.”

 He chuckles, clearly seeing the doubt expressed on Logan’s face.

 “I know it sounds impossible, but they have done it.”

 “Who has done what?”

 Logan whirls around to see Janus striding out of the shadows, nonchalantly tugging his gloves into place. Remus, of course, does not bother to keep them balanced and simply topples over, right on top of Logan.

 Janus raises an eyebrow at the display. “My, Remus, how graceful you’re getting to be.”

 “Thank you!”

 “That’s not—mm.” Janus rolls his eyes and looks at Logan. “Well, I must say, I certainly expected to see you here.”

 Logan’s fingers close absentmindedly around the water bottle. Janus’s gaze holds him tight.

 Tap, tap, tap.

 What—what’s happening? Janus won’t hurt him, Janus isn’t going to be angry at him—is he? Janus won’t have to go clean up his mess…right?

 “Remus, off.”

 “Hey, Lolo, it’s okay, you’re good, remember?”

 Logan blinks. Janus is crouched now, concern written plainly on his features. Remus’s hand is on his shoulder again, gently rubbing circles. His own hands tap gently on the surface of the water bottle.

 “My apologies.”

 “You’re good,” Remus says as Janus murmurs: “there’s no need for that, sweetie.”

 Logan sighs, stilling his hands and sitting up, letting Remus hook one leg around his back to pull him into his embrace. He leans his head into the middle of Logan’s back and hums.

 “Remus…rescued me,” he says eventually, “from the conversation going on with the others.”

 Janus makes a small ‘ah’ sound.

 “There were..heavy emotional investments coming from all sides,” Logan continues, “including making Virgil feel a little cornered.”

 “I’m sure that went well.”

 “It didn’t.” Logan shuts his eyes. “And now I am…I got stuck.”

 “With the water bottle?”

 He nods. “And I am currently unable to get…unstuck.”

 “Because your system still registers it as an incomplete task,” Janus murmurs, “and thus it won’t let you begin to decompress.”

 Logan nods.

 “Look at me, sweetie.”

 Janus smiles when he catches Logan’s gaze again. He holds out a hand. “Come here, let me help.”

 Logan goes to stand, only to be thwarted by Remus’s arms, still tightly around his waist.

 “No,” Remus mutters, muffled a little with his head in Logan’s back still, “my brain cell.”

 Janus frowns. “Remus…”

 “You wait your turn!”

 A giggle bubbles out of Logan’s throat. Janus narrows his eyes and his arms stretch, each curving around Logan’s sides to poke Remus.

 “Give. Me. My. Logan,” Janus says, punctuating each word with a poke. “My. Logan.”

 Remus squeaks, clutching Logan tightly, only making the giggles worse.

 “Give me my Logan,” Janus calls, still prodding Remus, “give him to me.”

 “Fine!”

 “There,” Janus coos, immediately taking advantage of the fact that all his arms are here and Logan is no longer being held to reel the logical Side in close, “that wasn’t so hard now was it?”

 The residual giggles don’t quite trail off as Janus pushes Logan’s glasses back up his nose and smiles.

 “Hi, sweetie.” His eyes widen when Logan can’t stop giggling. “I didn’t poke you now, little one, why’re you so giggly?”

 He shoots a mock scolding look over Logan’s shoulder.

 “You didn’t accidentally kidnap Patton, and not my Logan, did you?”

 “Nope, that’s the brainiac.”

 “Mm.”

 Why can’t he stop laughing? What’s happening? Why is—why is he stuck again?

 “Oh, oh, sweetie,” Janus’s voice comes from somewhere far away, “oh, little Logan, it’s alright, shh, shh, sweetie…”

 Why is Janus shushing him? He’s fine. Something swipes against his cheek.

 “Shh, shh, you come here, just come here for me, Logan, I’ve got you, you’re safe now…”

 Is he still laughing? His chest is still hitching and he can feel his diaphragm, so why does Janus sound so concerned?

 “It’s okay to cry, sweetie, it’s normal, from what it sounds like, you’ve been having a bit of a rough time.” Something against his cheek again. “Shh, shh, just come here…”

 Oh.

 Oh, he’s crying.

 Of course, as soon as he realizes that, he all but collapses into Janus’s chest and starts sobbing in earnest.

 “There, there, sweetie,” Janus coos instantly, cradling his limp form, “I’ve got you, you’re safe, little one, shh, shh, it’s alright.”

 Logan clutches as hard as he can to Janus’s cloak, fingers sliding off clumsily. Janus makes a noise and two hands come up to grip his, squeezing.

 “There you go, just focus on this for me, okay? Stay with me, Logan.”

 “What’s—what—wha’s happening?”

 “You’re crying, sweetie,” Janus says gently, “you’re overwhelmed and exhausted. Your system is trying to reset itself.”

 “But—but—it—but it hurts.”

 “Try not to fight it,” comes Remus’s voice from behind him, “let Janny hang onto you.”

 “That’s right.” Janus clutches him tighter. “You just stay right here, little Logan, in my arms, in my lap, let me look after you.”

 “‘M not little.”

 “You’re all little to me, sweetie.”

 Remus snorts. “Just because you’re a giant to everyone else aside from when Virgil gets tall doesn’t mean you have to be so snobby about it.”

 “On the contrary, it means I have the right to look down on you all.”

 Despite himself, Logan snorts. An interesting experience when combined with a sob, to be sure, but it happens. Janus chuckles, still hugging him tightly.

 “That’s it, sweetie, it’s alright. It seems like you’re coming to the end of it now, just a little longer, you’re doing wonderfully…”

 Logan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly…slowly…there.

 “Sweetie?” A hand ruffles through his hair. “Sweetie, are you with me?”

 “Yes,” Logan mumbles, “yes, I’m—I’m here.”

 “Good.” Janus presses a kiss to his cheek. “That seemed like a lot, sweetie, are you alright?”

 “…hurts.”

 “What hurts, Logan, what can I do?”

 “Just…” he leans a little further into Janus’s embrace. “Stay?”

 Janus chuckles. “Of course, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?”

 Logan shakes his head. “Ask—ask Remus.”

 “Remus?”

 As Remus explains what happened, Logan closes his eyes and does his very best to relax, more than sagging unconsciously into Janus’s arms. Everything is so…fuzzy, almost pixelated, as though he’s struggling to keep his focus here and now. He feels as though he’s fading in between…layers? Is that the right word? Layers of being stuck and unstuck, drifting without ever really making his home in one or the other. If he lets himself slip too much, he’ll get stuck in a loop of nothingness, unable to move or do anything. If he winds himself up too much or tries to focus too hard, he’ll get stuck in another stim cycle.

 Janus makes a soft noise and a hand scratches lightly through his hair.

 “I’m sorry, sweetie,” comes the voice in his ear, “that sounds awful.”

 “It’s not their fault.”

 “No, I know that, but still.” Janus kisses his forehead. “That doesn’t make it easier for you.”

 “And they should know better,” Remus growls, sending another jolt of warmth through Logan’s chest.

 “We can’t just forbid them from hurting Logan ever again.”

 “Why not?”

 “Because it’s terribly impractical, Remus, you know this.”

 Remus’s theatrical sigh almost makes him seem like Roman. The arms that attach themselves like limpets around his waist a moment later, though, are definitely Remus.

 “This okay?”

 “Mhmm.”

 “Good.” Remus’s head finds a home in between Logan’s shoulder blades. “We’re all just gonna sit here for a moment, okay?”

 “Okay.”

 Janus ruffles Remus’s hair and bends down to murmur in Logan’s ear.

 “Do you want to fall asleep here, sweetie?”

 That’s enough to rouse him. “No. If I do that, it will be…not good.”

 Janus nods. “Then let’s have you stay here for a little longer, then get you to your room for a shower and something to eat, hmm?”

 “Yes, please, thank you.”

 “Of course, sweetie.”

 Sure enough, a few minutes later, when Janus gently prompts him up, Logan wraps his arms around Remus in a tight hug with a whispered thank-you before Janus sinks him out to his room. He passes Logan a granola bar and watches as he eats, chases it down with a glass of water.

 “Would you like to be left alone for this?”

 Logan nods.

 “Alright.” Janus cups the back of his neck to bring their foreheads together, kissing his cheek one last time. “Take care of yourself, alright, sweetie?”

 “I will.”

 “Good.”

 Janus sinks out and Logan goes to take a shower. It’s only muscle memory that gets him out of his clothes, into the shower, out of the shower, and into something softer. His mind is still fuzzy, unsure of whether it’s going to stick or not, accompanied by a slowly growing grayness in his chest. It spikes the instant he shuts off the water, making him much, much colder than he expects, threatening a whine in the back of his throat. It disappears a moment later but it leaves him shaken.

 It’s only when he opens his bathroom door and Roman turns around that he realizes what must’ve happened.

 Roman smiles softly, his hand coming up to reach for him. Logan comes, letting him take his hand and pull him close.

 “Hey, there, Specs,” Roman murmurs, “you’re all clean now, hmm?”

 “Yes, I—you—why—how—“

 “Janus came to have a talk with me,” Roman says, cutting off the rest of his babbling, “even though most of it I already knew. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you getting stuck earlier, I know that can’t’ve been easy.”

 “…it wasn’t.”

 “I’m glad our snake took care of you.”

 “Remus helped too.”

 “And Remus,” Roman amends, still smiling as he tugs Logan closer, “but you’re still…?”

 Logan’s face falls; he can tell by the way Roman makes a soft noise and raises a hand to tuck his hair back.

 “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “may I take care of you?”

 “You don’t have to.”

 “I know, I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Roman draws back a little to fix him with a look. “Because aside from your brain not knowing whether it’s going to get stuck again, I know two things are going on in there.”

 He softens a little.

 “Let me guess: part of you is trying to convince itself that either you are useless when it comes to emotions and thus we don’t need you, or that you don’t have emotions and therefore you shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

 Logan’s mouth drops open.

 “Am I right?”

 “You—how—“

 “Because I know you, my dearest darling nerd,” Roman murmurs, smiling, “and I know that you know both of those aren’t true, but perhaps you need a little reminder sometimes, hmm?”

 He steps a little closer.

 “Janus is very good at pulling you out of your head,” he continues, still trailing his fingers through Logan’s hair in a way that makes it very hard for Logan to disagree with him, “but he’s not very good at keeping you there, is he?”

 “He’s good to us,” Logan mumbles, because Janus is, and he’s not sure what he would’ve done if he hadn’t shown up.

 But at the same time…

 “Janus is always a good person to go to first,” Roman says, as if he can hear what’s going on in Logan’s head—which, can he? Because he was spot on a moment ago— “isn’t he?”

 Logan nods.

 “He’s better at the first part than me, you know I can’t stop myself from spoiling you.”

 Roman chuckles as Logan’s cheeks flush bright red.

 “But maybe you need to get spoiled right now,” he continues, getting close enough to brush his nose against Logan’s cheek, “hmm? Let me take care of you?”

 “R-Roman—“

 “I’m right here, sweetheart,” Roman soothes as Logan reaches for him, “I’m right here…”

 Roman lies them down, pulling the covers down to let Logan crawl into the bed first and tucking them both back in. He reaches up to carefully take hold of Logan’s glasses.

 “May I?”

 Logan nods. Roman slides them off carefully and folds them up, placing them on the table. Now everything really is fuzzy, Roman’s face staying out of focus until he leans back in, close enough to be clear.

 “Give me a second.” Logan blinks and Roman’s also wearing a soft T-shirt and pants, smiling down at him. “There. Now I can cuddle you and I won’t hurt you.”

 “You wouldn’t hurt me,” Logan mutters as Roman props himself up on his elbow, running his hand through Logan’s hair.

 “It’s never my intention, no.” He leans down to press a kiss to Logan’s forehead.

 “Roman…”

 “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

 Logan shakes his head. “Nothing, just…just…”

 “Just what?”

 “…saying your name.”

 Roman’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Oh, sweetheart, let me be soft with you, please, let me look after you…”

 “Yes.”

 Roman lies down, swinging his leg up and over one of Logan’s. He’s warm, so warm, as his weight settles firmly in place. Unlike Remus, who stayed still, just holding Logan there, Roman moves almost constantly. Trailing kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, down to the curve of his chin, hands reaching down to clasps his and draw them up, next to his head, murmuring gently about how much he loves getting to protect Logan like this, how lucky he is to have Logan here, how sweet and soft Logan is for him right now.

 “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers as he comes back to Logan’s cheek, brushing away a stray tear, “it’s okay, Specs, you’ve been so strong today.”

 “But I didn’t do anything,” he argues, “I—I wasn’t helpful at all.”

 Roman leans up a little to look at him. “You made us stop and realize how stupid we were being. We got it sorted out in about five minutes after Remus took you.”

 “But that wasn’t me.”

 Roman smiles, leaning to rub their noses together. “You said it yourself, even when you’re not physically present, you’re still a part of the conversation.”

 Oh.

  Oh.

 “You did so good today, Logan,” Roman promises, kissing his cheek again, “now relax and let me spoil you.”

 “Roman…”

 “Mm,” comes the mumble from somewhere near his ear.

 “Roman…”

 He can almost feel the quirk of Roman’s mouth. “Just saying my name, sweetheart?”

 “Mhm.”

 “Well then,” Roman murmurs, “just lie there and fall asleep to me, okay? I’ve got you.”

 Logan shuts his eyes and lets Roman cuddle him, feeling the warmth reach into his chest and gentle the stickiness away. Although…

 If this is what getting stuck will get him sometimes, maybe it’s not always an annoying inconvenience.

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[bookofmirth]

If you have the time/energy I would love to hear more of your thoughts about Az's persona! He's such an interesting character to me, and I feel like most of the theories I see about him centre around elain, and how his behaviour is mate behaviour (the double bond thing). Personally I think azriel has a lot of anger, isnt very open with his friends, and also feels like he has to be the one to fix everything (this comes out with elain but also all his relationships).

Can I just start this off by saying “what the fuck” at the double/true/created bond thing. I’ve seen some WILD shit out there in the fandom, wild. 

I have been writing and deleting and copy/pasting etc. this post forever and I can’t decide how to approach it, so I hope this makes sense! I didn’t pull out a ton of quotes because tbh it’s a lot of work and I’ve read these books???? So many times. And this is tumblr, not comprehensive exams.

I would agree with your characterization of Azriel! 

Anger - this comes out in really inappropriate times, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns his anger around on himself. We all know that Rhys described his “icy rage”, and later on his “cruel competitiveness”.

Lack of communication - yeah, when has he had a heart-to-heart with anyone in this series? When he does, it’s not about making himself feel better, or sharing his own feelings. It’s to be of service to someone else. All the IC have described trying to reach out to him in their own ways, and not being successful.

Needing to fix things - yes! I see this as his need to be of service. He’s always the first one to jump into work. It took Mor hundreds of years to get him to go to Rita’s, right? He’s a workaholic in a world with no labor laws. He always wants to be the one in charge of gathering intel, of finding people, or fixing problems. I think this is closely tied to two things: his lack of self-worth, and his anger. If he can stay busy enough and work hard enough, he can prove his worth to other people, if not to himself. This is why he loses it when Rhys or Feyre tell him that he can’t handle something. 

Funny thing, but people who have followed my blog since early 2017 know that I shipped moriel hardcore. I just loved it. I wrote so much meta and fanfic. A lot of the arguments that I see now remind me a lot of arguments people used to make about moriel - and it makes sense! Az’s behavior around both Mor and Elain are eerily similar. So I thought I’d compare his behavior towards them because that can tell us about his character!

To me, his treatment of Elain (and Mor) comes down to two things:

What his mother and Mor suffered (and he was unable to prevent), and

His lack of self-worth due to abuse 

Azriel and Mor didn’t know one another very long before she slept with Cassian and was left brutalized by her family. This happened when they were all in their late teens, which is not long after Azriel was tortured by his brothers, rarely let outside, and rarely got to see his mother. At the same time that Azriel sees his mother treated so poorly, he then feels intense guilt and rage at what happens to Mor. It’s enough to make him overreact in the future, any time that Mor (or another female) is in danger. So here are a bunch of examples of him being overprotective of Mor and Elain. But mostly Mor.

In acomaf, Azriel has the audacity to tell Mor no, that she can’t go to the human lands (chapter 41)

“I fought in the War, you will do well to remember-”

“No,” Azriel said again, refusing to break her stare. His shifting wings rasped against the back of his chair. “The would string you up and make an example of you.”

At the end of acomaf he is still highly protective of Mor

Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.”

Mor looked at Azriel - and there was real fear there. Fear - and something else. She didn’t stop moving until she again kneeled beside him and pressed a hand to his wound. Azriel hissed-but covered her bloody fingers with his own.

Then in acowar, of course, he explodes at the High Lord meeting after Eris says that Mor dresses like a slut:

Azriel stopped.

Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened. As Azriel turned his face towards me-

The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot. 

But beneath it, I could almost see the image that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys.

And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking.

And of course in acowar Azriel goes with Feyre to rescue Elain. This ties together all of his issues with Mor and his mother. IMHO, Azriel sees Elain as a second chance. He saves Elain in a way he failed to save Mor, and so he begins to transfer his need to protect and serve onto her.

Azriel’s refusal to let Mor assist in dangerous situations is similar to how he says no, Elain cannot help.

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

*Note that it’s an “outright sign of temper” - not an outright sign of protectiveness, or caring, or concern, or worry. 

If being protective of another character is “mate behavior” or sign of a mating bond, then Azriel and Mor would be mated. There is far more evidence of him being overprotective of her than of Elain. So while we know that mates are protective (naturally!), Azriel’s protective tendencies are coming from something else - a combination of his failures to protect his mother and Mor.

In acofas, what Cassian jokes is Az being a stickler for manners in forcing everyone to wait for Elain, Rhys explains as being related to Azriel’s mother - not Elain or Cassian.

Rhys took a bite, gesturing with his knife for me to eat. Let’s just say it hit a little close to home. At my beat of confusion, he added, There are some scars when it comes to how his mother was treated. Many scars.

Again, it seems all well and good that Az was thinking about being polite, but Rhys tells us that it’s because of Azriel’s mommy issues! Which are understandable and important, but a clear example of Azriel trying to make up for poor treatment in one woman by overreacting around another.

In the acosf POV, when Az questions why he wasn’t mated with Elain (and he can smell bonds so wouldn’t he smell his own?) it’s not so much about Elain as the fact that he feels he did everything right this time. He saved the damsel. He was of service. Elain is safe and healthy and she seems much more amenable than Mor ever has. So what did he do wrong? This is the source of his anger, combined with his loneliness and desire for a shiny lovely mating bond of his own. 

When we think about Azriel’s motivations, it comes down to service and self-worth. He sees his main value or purpose as saving others from harm, and when he was barely into adulthood he failed in that duty for the two most important women in his life. Hence his need to overcompensate around Mor, and now Elain.