#a pattern that actually looks nice I should say and allows for articulation

[toasteaa]

Making a funkin,, blanket nest and letting the thoughts consume me

[itsmissing]

Hi, you said we were allowed to ask random questions, so I wanted to get your take on this if it is ok. I have followed you for years at this point, and your creations are incredible! They inspire me so. I recall some time ago posting a.... reskin? Revamp? Of one of your DnD characters? I know most of your characters are not dnd nor should people use them in their own games, but if I am reading this correctly it means you yourself play or have at least played TTRPGs in the past. So, since you are welcoming questions, I thought it fair to ask an insanely creative person like you.

So I am in many DnD games right now, and most of them are very RP heavy. I find I can articulate myself well digitally when I can edit what I'm saying to make myself look thoughtful and knowledgeable. But when I RP verbally in the moment - particularly characters that have different thought patterns than I do- I flounder and words become difficult.

Suffice to say- how do you approach RP from a creator's stand point? Creating many different characters and making them unique from yourself but still compelling and competent? What is your thought process to RP?

If you do not feel comfortable answering this ask and that is perfectly fine- I realize this is coming out of left field but you did say you were bored and wanted asks, so I thought this line of questions was fair game. Regardless, I do wish to share how insanely creative and incredible I find your works. If you do not mind more questions in the future, I would love to ask a bit more of your inspirations and thought processes towards how you approach art, but instead I'll settle on my odd ask and hope I am not egregiously overstepping.

thanks for the question! bit of a long answer so i'll put it under a Read More.

i've actually played a couple of campaigns of dnd and blades in the dark (tho they were all over discord calls, and none of them ever concluded naturally), and i totally understand where you're coming from! tho i'll be honest, i haven't played ttrpgs in general in a good long while. i definitely had frustrations in my first ever couple of sessions of dnd (using a character i lovingly designed from scratch), and i think a lot of those pain points stemmed from me trying to force a narrative journey i already had in my head, pre-planned, that i imagined during the design phase for that character. but at the end of the day, dnd is improv, and if you're not used to that, your character's going to end up a little different than how you imagined, and that's ok! a session is always going to be a collaborative roleplaying space, where the party's stories as a group and as individuals are crafted gradually, over time, and some of the ideas you had for your character at the start-- their backstory, their personality, the way they talk and think-- are going to be constantly workshopped into something different, naturally, over the course of a campaign as you get more comfortable. i also find it's a lot easier to rp when you stop trying to inhabit The Exact Character That You Made With Love, and instead try to rp with their essence in mind instead. the most important thing for me when roleplaying is to understand the basics of my character-- whether they're nice or mean, outspoken or reserved, polite or straightforward, etc-- more than anything else. more practical, actionable advice is that it helps to ask yourself questions in your off time and try to answer them as best as you can, out loud and in-character. interview yourself as your character! what's their favorite fruit?

thanks for the question, and also the kind words about my art! i had typed a lot more than this out but i felt like it was mostly incoherent rambling. this might still qualify as that, actually. hope this helps in any way!

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @eldritch-and-tired for commissioning this lil’ /Reader piece of @megalommi‘s Sans, Baggs. I will ALWAYS be a simp for this sexyman. Enjoy!!

Tw: injections, unwilling hypnosis/mind control

...

You giggled.

The light was so pretty. Swirling, undulating, cyan and magenta warping and shifting in and out of one another in an endless hypnotising rhythm. It made you think of a funfair... spirals everywhere, from the tops of the stalls to the decorations on the rides, to the signs leading you around to those huge lollipops that tasted tooth-meltingly sweet. Happy memories, carefree, far away and non-solid but still wonderful. What were you doing? You couldn’t remember anything. You liked blue and purple, they were everywhere, all around you, such pretty colours. 

Pretty, pretty...

“... there we go. easy now.”

... You didn’t realise he was even there until he (somewhat cautiously?) spoke. Your senses were just colours. The voice was odd and a bit disembodied at first but slowly, slowly, you became aware of its source- a face hovering just over you. The awareness spread to your body, too... you were bent at an odd angle with your feet just barely lifted off the floor, your back flat on a rather uncomfortable table, gravity pulling your hair and cheeks. And he... he was just a few inches over you, pinning you by one of your wrists.

...

A tight and tense, cutting smile, clear signs of stress around his face and shoulders making it obvious that this was the smile of a man on the edge and not one of any particular joy. Deep sockets, so wide they looked borderline painful, glaring down at you with so much intensity...

... You could feel his body heat. And his breath against your face. Your heartbeat, your slightly itchy nose, how tight he was holding your wrist.

“... Mh... Huh?” You said, ever-so articulately, vision spinning in the same direction as the swirls emanating from his left socket. A similar way to how the world rocked when you were dizzy... except for you, it never righted itself. It just kept spinning and spinning and spinning. Everything was so bright, as you fell under a pleasant fuzzy sensation burrowed into your chest and mind, blanketing your thoughts as if you were just in the middle of a nice dream where nothing much mattered.

“shh...” 

When he gently closed his gloved fingers around something you had gripped in your pinned hand, you put up no fuss, loosening your hold and allowing him to take it... when did you pick up a scalpel? What an odd thing to have. The back of your head hurt and your knuckles felt the telltale aches of having been tense a few moments ago, even though they were now just an unwound coil like the rest of you.

... Dr. Baggs let out a long slow, breath. You could feel it against your nose and neck, he was that close... his mouth open barely a crack, the magenta hue of his tongue glinting against his fangs. 

“... alright.” He said, voice silky, gentle on your thrumming ears and head, sockets easing around the edges as he calmed down. The bluish shadows of sleep deprivation under them became more apparent as the tension in the room, face and posture waned. “that’s better.”

... Yeah. You thought, relaxed and calm. It is.

... He gave you the bare minimum of personal space, leaning back and helping you to sit, lifting you with the perfect combination of gentle but firm as if he knew you’d immediately feel so dizzy when you became upright. Your hands moved up and held onto his shoulders to steady yourself- the fabric of his lab coat was surprisingly soft, it was very nice to touch. 

... He was so close. Supportive but strict hands on your elbows, your knees on either side of him, he smelled like... the artificial flavouring they added candy that just wasn’t quite natural. And a specific, scented brand of antiseptic; clean and sterile and prepared.

“... well.” He hummed, reaching out of sight for something with one hand. Your forehead would bump his collarbone if you leant forward any more. His voice was so soothing and calming, especially since you were only a few inches from his clavicle... you were getting pretty close to shutting your eyes at this point, but a prick in your arm kept you from completely nodding off- you barely noticed it, too busy studying the aesthetically pleasing purple trim to his coat and enjoying the funny fuzzy sensation in your chest and temples. Oh, he suddenly had a full syringe in his hand that he was putting a cap on... where did he get that? 

“i knew from the start you’d be uncooperative, but... not that kind of uncooperative.”

He held something up to your face. You opened your mouth, (wait, why am I opening my mouth...) and he quickly placed it on your tongue. You swallowed, again, without knowing why... it was like your body was following a list of instructions that you couldn’t see or hear. Someone else had taken the wheel; tugging the right strings to make the right parts of you move when they were needed. 

... You didn’t think about it much. No panic, no confusion, no considering the implications. The thoughts were disconnected... just ships in the night, sailing by your muffled brain. All you could really think about was how whatever he’d given you was very strange and bitter and ew, you cringed, an odd acrid taste lingering in the back of your throat.

... Another prick in your arm. That’s weird, he keeps pricking me. Oh well. This time, you looked just in time to see him removing a now-empty syringe; he wiped where he’d poked your forearm with something very cold, then placed a little circular red band-aid over it.

...

There were six other band-aids on that forearm. Two green, three navy, one black... and now the red one.

Hm... I feel like I should be alarmed by that...

Again, all you could think about was how nice you felt right now. Dizzy, warm, safe. Like you’d had a little too much to drink, but now you were laying out in the sun with your friends... I miss the sun...

“most of my ‘patients’ are at least... consistent.” Baggs hummed, continuining to hold you carefully by the elbows, predicting your post-jab swaying. He didn’t seem to realise he was talking aloud, just a scientist observing his experiment, and you weren’t really paying enough attention to what he was actually saying- too many words to process, boooring. “uncooperative awake, uncooperative under. you’re always displaying aggression toward me... and yet as soon as you have no control, there’s an obediency so immediate it’s borderline subconscious. rather fascinating.”

Instead, you...

“... Sexy voice.”

...

...

“... what?” 

Apparently, that was enough to finally break him out of his thoughts. You glanced up at Baggs’ face, still only a few inches away, you kept forgetting where things were around you... the cushion around your soul never wavered but for a moment there was a little blip in the swirls. A slight interruption.

“Mmmhm.”

...

... His expression sort of... well, ‘melted’ was the wrong word. It was more akin to the sun peeking out from between two clouds. The detached, observational, scientific air to him thinned and began to evaporate... revealing something a little more warm.

The razor and unfriendly edges of his smile were rounding into something organic. Perhaps even, daresay, resembling forward. 

“my.” He purred. “how forward of you.”

“S’very nice. Very smooth...” Your tongue felt... eh. And your arm, where he’d poked you, was starting to itch. “And you have a nice face too... handsome man. I think so.”

...

His smile started growing even more, and he leaned back an inch or two as if to look at all of you and make sure you were really the same person he’d brought into this examination room less than an hour ago. “... oh really?”

“Yeah...” ... Your hands had been just holding onto his coat... but, spurred on by your sudden drunken confidence, you properly looped them around his neck.

... He blinked, but he only let himself appear taken aback for a moment or two. Despite how ominously his magenta eyelights glowed in his dark, shadowed sockets... you could tell he was enjoying himself, and this sudden turn of events. “i’m flattered.”

You laid your head on his chest. It was getting kinda hard to stay upright. 

... Your nose scrunched.

“Funky smell, though.”

That was enough to get an actual laugh out of him- albeit shortlived, his skull cocking like a curious mirthful bird. “are you... genuinely telling me that i smell, darling?”

“Yeah. Because it’s true. You’re gremlin.”

 “i’m... gremlin?”

“Mhm.”

“stars. i wish i could tell pap about this.”

Your body shifted, enough to make you lightly squeak- things were spinning so much that it took you a minute to realise Baggs had picked you up, an arm hooked under your legs and another around your back.

“you’re all done for the day, pet.” His eyelights had become a thrumming, almost amethyst colour as he looked at you, a far gentler shade of purple than his previous headache-inducing magenta. You weren’t sure what’d caused that but you weren’t complaining. You weren’t sure what’d caused him to carry you either, considering he usually just brought someone to collect his ‘patients’ for him... but, again, not complaining. “it’s time to get back to your room.”

“I feel funny.” You mumbled.

“that’s normal.”

He started walking. The halls all looked the same, as he moved through them, blending into one another... white and sterile, a few doors dotted inbetween if you were lucky but mostly just the exact same tiles and patterns and lack of anything that would clue you into the fact that people had actually (at some point) existed in this area. 

“Hm... is this where you work...?”

A little chuckle. He was sounding further and further away. “yes. this is my job, dear.”

“It’s so g... ug-ly.”

“oh? you think so?” Baggs’ tone had become... light? Perhaps a little teasing. 

“Jus... put up some nice posters, or something.” Your head was so heavy. Since when was it this heavy? You had to rest it against his chest, feeling that nice fabric against your cheek, hearing an equally nice humming sound from inside his ribcage. “Paint the walls. It’s so... white. Clini... ...clinicic... Calic...” 

“clinical?”

“... Yeah.Tthat.”

A gloved phalange touched your arm. It was probably an attempt at a comforting gesture- stroking the skin. “good to know. i’ll make sure to pass that eloquent advice along to the decorating team.”

“Good.”

He brought you to a cell-like room. It was... vaguely familiar? A bed with one pillow, thin white sheets... some strange posters and a window with bars over it. You felt like you’d spent a long time in there, but it was impossible to think straight enough to actually muster up any memories.

Baggs laid you down on the bed, slowly, handling you like you’d fall apart at any moment. You made a little noise- it wasn’t a very soft bed... but it was good enough. And your body felt so strange and tired that any soft surface honestly was nice enough to lay down on forever.

“comfy?” He asked. Since when did he inquire if you were comfy?

“M... no. S’whatever.”

...

You peeked at him, crouched by your bed... and you reached out, pressing your inexplicably heavy finger against the top of his nasal cavity in a booping motion. You mumbled a little victorious “Silly skeleton.” 

...

He took your hand in his gloved one, gently, before it could go limp and flop down. You couldn’t really make out his expression at this point.

“don’t tell the other subjects...” He murmured... he sounded amused, at least. “but i think you’ve become my favourite.”

“Course.” You shut your eyes. “I’m... m’amazing.”

“... yes. course.” 

A feeling, like a kiss on your hand, before he placed it by your side.

“... go to sleep.”

...

And just like that, your body obeyed him before your head could even process what he’d said, and you were asleep.

[dickwheelie]

okay so the other day this gorgeous comic by @tijela crossed my dash and I couldn’t stop thinking about a sequel to it where Jon and Martin actually get to go on their date. so. this is that. set sometime nebulously in season 3. also there is ace jontent (jon content) because against my better judgment I absolutely refuse to shut up about jon being ace. anyway I love you (yes, you) enjoyyyyy

___________

It’s only two minutes after nine in the morning when Jon appears in the doorway of Martin’s cubicle, holding two steaming mugs in his hands. Martin pauses in the act of taking off his coat, eyes wide, and for a moment all they do is stare at each other.

“I—brought you tea,” says Jon at last, as though it’s something he does for Martin every morning. He makes a strange kind of abortive movement with his arm, half-offering one of the mugs. What is happening, thinks Martin. And why is it happening before I’ve even switched my laptop on.

He decides to roll with it. “Thanks,” he says, keeping his voice carefully neutral, as he sits down at his desk and takes one of the mugs. Jon’s hand shakes almost imperceptibly as he passes it over. Martin takes a sip. It isn’t very good. He smiles at Jon anyway. “Ta,” he says again.

Jon doesn’t appear as though he heard him. His brow is furrowed, distractedly, and Martin notices that he doesn’t even drink from his own mug before setting it down on the edge of Martin’s desk. A twinge of anxiety lances through him. “Alright, Jon?”

Jon’s eyes snap to his, and his expression softens. “Yes. Um. Well. Not entirely.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, and he looks it, tired and frayed at the edges as he always does these days, but there’s a softness in his eyes and regret in his lines of his face. “About what happened yesterday—I am so, so sorry, Martin. I let my guard down and I shouldn’t have . . . compelled you—”

Martin shakes his head. “It’s alright.” He’d just as soon put the whole thing behind him; being rejected is embarrassing enough on its own, never mind the rest of it. “You . . . you didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Jon says, insistent.

“I—yeah. I know,” Martin sighs. It’s too early for this.

“And . . . I. Um. I would, actually.”

Martin pauses with the mug halfway to his mouth, and blinks up at Jon. “You would . . . what?”

“I . . . I would be happy to go out with you.”

Jon’s posture is ramrod straight, as it so rarely is, as though this is a speech he’s been rehearsing for.

“Oh! Um.” As the words sink in, Martin feels heat rise to his cheeks. He puts the mug down. “Really?”

Jon nods, once. “Yes.” Some of the confidence leaves his voice. “I-If you still want to, that is. Of course I—I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I—or I mean, yeah, I’m . . . I’d love to, yeah.” At least it’s good to know that they’re both being articulate.

“Oh.” Jon looks genuinely relieved. “Good, then.”

Martin’s about to say something resembling a thank you, when Jon barrels onward.

“I was thinking we could get dinner.” Then, almost apologetically: “Is that alright?”

Martin would laugh if the whole thing wasn’t making him blush. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sure. Sounds good. When are you . . . ?”

“Tomorrow is Friday, yes?”

“Yeah,” Martin says, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Then . . . tomorrow night? A-After work? Or—” Jon winces slightly, slowing down. “I-It doesn’t have to be right after work. Would seven o’clock be alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s . . . that’s good for me.”

“Okay.” And Jon smiles, just the tiniest bit. “Okay, yes. Seven on Friday. For dinner. I’ll send you the details.”

“Sure.” Martin allows himself a grin, around the rim of the mug, and flashes Jon what he hopes is an appealing glance. “See you then, Jon.”

“Yes. Alright.” Jon stands there, staring at him for a second more, then turns around on his heel and disappears down the hallway.

It takes half an hour before Martin can actually focus enough to start work. It takes another full hour after that for Martin to notice that Jon forgot to take his mug of tea with him.

***

Jon taps his water glass pensively as he waits for Martin to arrive. The restaurant he’s invited Martin to is an Italian place in central London that Jon has never stepped foot in before today, but it seems romantic enough, with candles at every table and soft music playing in the background and lighting that makes reading the menu a chore, even with his reading glasses on. The table for two he’s reserved is minuscule, which he supposes must be a good thing. For . . . some reason.

He’s nervous. Which is ridiculous, given his life, but there it is. It feels less like a first date than it should; he knows Martin so well, and cares for him, and trusts him, but still, there’s that nagging anxiety. He just really doesn’t want to mess this up more than he already has.

Jon isn’t sure what he’s expecting Martin to look like when he arrives at the restaurant. He knows he’ll look nice, of course; Martin always looks nice, with his ties tucked neatly into his soft-looking sweaters, with his hair, and his smile . . . Jon gives himself a shake and stares daggers at the drink menu. He, himself, has worn one of the nicest outfits he owns, which he imagines is doing little to combat the bags under his eyes and the numerous scars. Still, he’s made an attempt with his hair, and traded in his usual square frames for horn-rimmed spectacles that, he’s been told, look nice on him.

When Martin shows up, though, fashionably late where Jon had been a quarter of an hour early for their reservation, he puts Jon to shame. He’s wearing a pale blue suit, with a lightly-patterned button-up that Jon can’t quite make out in the restaurant’s dim light, his hair nicely coiffed, his earrings catching the light and sparkling with every step. He approaches the small table where Jon can only sit and stare, already mumbling an apology for making Jon wait, and even after everything that’s happened Jon’s still incapable of filtering himself, so he says, “You look lovely.”

Martin beams at him as he pulls out the chair across from Jon and sits down. Inwardly, Jon winces; he should probably have offered to pull it out for him, shouldn’t he. “Thanks, Jon,” Martin says, happily. He gives Jon a once-over, but in an admiring way, which is not an experience Jon has had in a very, very long time. “You don’t look so bad, yourself.”

“Ah,” Jon says, “thank you,” and he dives back into the menu before Martin can notice that he’s blushing.

They make small talk as best they can, avoiding any topics relating to fears, until a waiter comes by. Neither of them want wine, as it turns out, Martin because of the tannins and Jon because he wants to maintain every bit of control he has to not say or do anything stupid that could ruin all of this.

As they wait for their food, Martin looks askance at Jon’s right hand, squinting curiously. Jon glances down, and his stomach sinks; he’d forgotten he was wearing it. It’s his ace ring, the simple black band he wears outside of work, when he can remember where he’s left it last. He’d put it on earlier in a fit of unearned confidence when he’d seen how his hair looked, and now he’s paying the price.

“Is that—?”

“Yes,” Jon sighs, twisting it around on his finger instinctively. “My ace ring.”

“Didn’t know you had one. I’ve never seen you wear it around the office.” Martin’s voice is soft and uninquisitive, offering Jon the option to drop the topic.

Jon doesn’t take it, because again, he lost his filter sometime in the nineties and he’s never gotten it back. “Yes, well, it’s a bit . . . unprofessional, isn’t it.”

Martin shrugs, his earrings swinging with the motion. “I mean, not really. Tim and I have pride stickers on our laptops and stuff. And—now I think of it, you do too, Jon.” Martin huffs a laugh, but the way he looks at Jon, he can tell it isn’t at his expense. “I don’t get why this is any different.”

“I—you—” Jon flounders for a moment before giving up. “You make a compelling argument. But—I don’t know. The ring feels . . . different.” His voice weakens slightly, along with his resolve. “Somehow.”

“More personal,” Martin says, softly.

“Yes.” Jon’s chest grows warm. “Yes, that’s . . . that’s exactly it.”

“I get it. I mean, I’m not ace, but—I get it.” Martin runs his thumb along the rim of his water glass. “Took me a long time to get that trans sticker up on my laptop.”

Jon nods. There’s a beat of silence, and then Martin leans forward in his chair slightly. They’re already in pretty close quarters, and in the candlelight, Jon can almost count Martin’s freckles.

Martin inches his hand toward Jon’s. “Can I . . . ?”

Jon really hopes his blush isn’t visible, but his luck has never been the best. “Um . . . yes. I-If you want to.”

Slowly, like he’s trying not to scare him off, Martin takes Jon’s hand in his, dwarfing it in his broad palm and wide fingers. The contrast, Jon thinks for a strange moment, is beautiful.

Almost immediately, Martin startles. “Jeez, Jon, your hand is so cold,” he says, and he takes both of Jon’s hands between his, rubbing warmth back into them. Jon’s hands, in fact, had been rather cold, though he hadn’t noticed until now, and they’re certainly not cold anymore, along with Jon’s face and chest, which are rapidly warming up by extension.

He manages to get out, “Ah—sorry. I, um, have bad circulation.”

“Don’t apologize,” Martin says, almost absentmindedly, still staring down at their hands. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Jon wants to protest, and probably ruin the mood by bringing up topics that shouldn’t be discussed on a date, but at that moment Martin looks back up at him, meeting his eyes with a smile that makes him look even lovelier. “I like it,” says Martin, out of nowhere. Jon blinks at him. “Your ring.” He holds up Jon’s hand for him, demonstratively. “It looks right on you. It fits. You know?”

“Ah. Thank you,” Jon says. It doesn’t feel like the right thing to say, but he can’t find any other words, at the moment. He feels . . . he’s not sure what he’s feeling. His chest feels a bit full, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Martin is casually glancing around the restaurant, as though he isn’t actively taking Jon apart piece by smitten piece. “This place is posh,” he says. “You come here often?”

“All the time,” Jon says, mustering up some humor. “I’m only in the head archivist business for the salary.”

That makes Martin laugh, at least. “Thanks for asking me out, by the way,” he says.

“Oh,” Jon says, and his hands are still warmly pressed between Martin’s own, and he can see now that Martin’s shirt is dotted with tiny sunflowers, and for a moment he has no idea why Martin is the one thanking him. “Well, you, ah . . . sort of beat me to it.”

Martin laughs. “I mean, sort of.”

“It’s the thought that counts, anyway,” Jon says, borderline nonsensically, grasping at well-worn words and phrases, because it’s all starting to sink in now that he’s on a date with Martin, and it’s going well.

It’s at that moment that their food arrives, and Martin has to let go of his hands, but the warmth remains for a good long while afterwards.

The rest of the date is, as much as Jon has come to both loathe and cherish the word over the past two years, uneventful. Nothing is ruined, not even a tablecloth, and Martin seems genuinely, actually happy in Jon’s company, and Jon feels calmer and safer than he’s felt in a long, long time. They walk back to the Tube station hand in hand, and even in the chill autumn air, Jon feels absolutely warmed down to his bones.

[brythebibliophile]

Always Choose You—A Spencer Reid x reader

a/n: hi! so this fic is super personal for me because I struggle with abandonment issues, feeling inadequate to my sister, and many more things mentioned throughout the fic. I originally wrote this because I wanted to vent to someone so I sort of just manifested a conversation with Spencer Reid and I just turned it into an x reader for your enjoyment. I hope you all like it and just know my messages are always open if you need to talk. have a good day! (also I don’t think I used any gender-specific pronouns for the reader except at the end spencer uses the term “girlfriend”)

word count: 2132

-

Something had been bugging you all day and you really needed to get it off of your chest. The only problem with that was that the thing you wanted to talk about you got yelled at for talking about every time you did.

Oh well.

You picked up your phone and dialed the only person you wanted to talk to. You heard the dial tone and took a few breaths. Here went nothing.

“Hello?” Spencer’s voice came from the other end of the call. Gosh, his voice. It was high and curious and perfect and you were crazy for it.

“Hey! Hey, Spencer, it’s me,” you said, the nerves obvious in your voice. Not necessarily a stutter, though. More like confident anxiety. “Listen, I’ve kind of had a rough day and you’re the only person in the world I want to talk to. Do you think we could meet up? We could go somewhere or I could go to your place or…?”

“Yeah, yeah for sure,” his voice was so reassuring. Not to be cliche or anything, but hearing him talk literally cleared everything else from your head.

Spencer was your best friend. You had joined the BAU about four years ago, and as soon as you got there you knew that Spencer was going to be your favorite person in the world. If you were some other girl, you would probably say that you were absolutely in love with him, but since you’re you—the commitmentphobiac who can’t even handle the accountability of the word ”crush” much less the phrase “in love”—you were just a girl with a best friend that you love platonically(but also if he asked you out you definitely would not have said no).

Anyways, you and Spencer had been best friends for about four years now. Everything was going great until your sister joined the BAU team about six months ago.

Now, you absolutely loved your sister. More than anyone except maybe Spencer, and even that was a stretch. The thing is, all your life people had CONSTANTLY compared you to her. And 99% of the time, she was better than you. She was always the better daughter, better friend, better singer, better student, better athlete...basically whatever it was you two were doing people thought that she was better than you.

And you’re generally a pretty confident person who doesn’t compare yourself to others. But you fell into the comparison trap with her. every. single. time.

Which is why it was so important for you to have Spencer.

“Cool! So, umm, your place? I can be there in ten if that’s fine?” You said, anxiety slipping into your voice again.

“Sounds perfect! See you then, y/n!” You could hear him smiling through the phone.

“See you soon, Spence! Love you.”

“I love you, too, y/n.”

“Bye!”

So, you put on your favorite sweater, a beanie, and left your apartment.

As you walked the familiar path to Spencer’s apartment building, you contentedly breathed in the brisk air. It was mid-October(which was probably you and Spencer’s favorite time of year), and it was the perfect temperature. More on the cool side, but the nip the air gave your nose was perfectly delightful. You decided to stop and grab hot chocolates for the two of you.

A few minutes later, you were knocking on Spencer Reid’s apartment door. The pair of you had a not-so-secret secret knocking pattern so that the other would know it was you. Not only was it useful for dropping by unexpected, but it was also helpful since you were both a bit paranoid from the job. Spencer answered the door almost immediately.

“Hey! I brought hot chocolate. Also, we have to go for a walk later because the weather is perfect out,” you said as you walked in, sat on the couch, and handed him his hot chocolate.

“Wow, thank you so much. So what’s up?? What’s bugging you?”

His concern allowed delightful little butterflies to enter your belly. “Honestly, it was stupid. I don’t even know what I was thinking, you were probably busy. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Woah, woah. Easy, girl. It wasn’t stupid at all. You’ve actually been acting weird for a while now, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was scared you would get angry with me.” He chuckled a bit.

“Honestly, Reid. I’m fine. It was stupid. Let’s just watch a movie or something.”

“Y/n,” he said faintly. “Nothing you do could ever be stupid.” You laughed a bit.

“You would be surprised, Doctor.”

There was a bit of a silence in which you both took a sip of your drinks. The warm liquid slid down your throat with a satisfying sweetness.

“Seriously, y/n/n,” he nudged you with his foot. “Talk to me. What’s up?” You gave in.

“I dunno, Reid. It’s just,” you struggled to find the correct words. “literally my entire life, I’ve been compared to my sister. She’s always just been so perfect. And you know me. I’m super confident and I hate comparing myself to others and I barely give a crap what anyone thinks of me but as soon as she opens her mouth my confidence just shatters. It’s absolutely obliterated. And I mean you know I have abandonment issues from everything when I was a kid but part of that is also due to having my best friend of literal years decide she likes my sister more than me one day and then basically ignore me for years after that and I just love my sister more than anything but she makes me feel so inadequate all the time but whenever I try to voice that to her she just tells me that I’m being crazy!”

You were starting to tear up. You looked over at Spencer to see how he was taking in your word vomit. The way he was looking at you nearly made your tears fall.

“Every friend group we’ve ever been in together, every teacher we’ve ever had, every church we’ve ever been to...she’s always the favorite.” Your voice broke a little bit. These were thoughts that had been bottled inside of you since you were eight years old or younger. No one had ever listened to you this much. You kept going.

“I guess what I’m trying to get at here is that even though I love [insert real or imaginary sister’s name] more than life, I’ve always appreciated the things in my life that were just my own. I know it’s selfish and I probably sound like I’m crazy but the BAU was kind of the one thing that I had in my life that she wasn’t a part of. And undoubtedly everyone else in the team is going to end up loving her more and honestly I’m prepared for that. I’ve made peace with it. I just-“ the tears were starting to fall. “I’m just not ready to- to lose you, Spencer Reid. You’ve been my best friend for four years and I might even love you more than I love my sister which is saying something but I just know that it’s probably inevitable for you to not love her and maybe (probably) even fall in love with her because that’s what happens to guys when they interact with my sister. I’m just not ready to lose you to her, Spence. I don’t think I can handle it.“

The tears had stopped a bit ago, but your eyes had been stubbornly focused on your feet basically the entirety of your little monologue. You risked a look up.

Spencer was staring at you with such an intensity you almost sank down into the couch. His jaw had slightly dropped and his eyes were trained on you like you were an unsub he was tracking down.

“It’s crazy, I know,” you mumbled, trying to recover the absolutely horrendous situation you just made yourself. “It’s just that I can see you doing it. Falling for her, I mean. And I just can’t- you know what, never mind. I never should have come. This was a mistake, just forget everything I just sa-“

You were cut off by something crashing into your face. It was Spencer. You just kind of sat there in shock for a second before literally melting into the kiss.

Holy crap, you thought. You closed your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. Man, you had been wanting to do that. He tasted like cinnamon and hot chocolate and goodness and just overall everything that made you happy. He smelled like old books and his apartment. The kiss was gentle after the initial face slamming and it only lasted a few seconds, but you savored every moment of it.

“Y/n,” he whispered when you broke apart. “this is gonna be really difficult to articulate, so just bear with me here.”

He looked to you for reassurance. You nodded, probably looking like a fish out of water.

“I don’t know how anyone got it into your head that you were inferior to your sister. First of all, you two shouldn’t ever be comparable because you’re just so polar opposite. I mean she’s nice and all but you’re just so you. You’re just so smart and loud and if you have something to say you will be heard and you’re funny and dorky but you own it in a way that it doesn’t seem like you’re weird but you also have so many layers and it’s been so amazing just trying to uncover them all over the last four years. And you could never be selfish because you’re just so loving and caring and you’re just absolutely brilliant in every way. I could go on for hours listing reasons why you’re so amazing and that’s not even starting to mention how beautiful you are, like, physically. I just-” he was starting to fumble over his words. “You deserve the galaxies, y/n. You deserve so much better than everything you’ve gotten in life. I don’t understand how anyone could possibly choose anyone but you when given the choice.”

You were tearing up again at this point. “I know you’re saying all that, Spencer, but there’s no reason for me to believe it when ‘statistically‘ everyone thinks she’s better.”

He looked at you as if you had physically hurt him with this statement.

“Given the choice, I choose you. Every time. It doesn’t matter who the other option is. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I need you to trust me on this. I know it’s difficult for you, but I need you to trust me here. Look at me.” You looked up to meet his eyes.

“I. Choose. You. Every time.”

“Promise?” You stuck up your pinky finger. He softly smiled at the gesture.

“Promise.” he said as he intertwined your pinkies. You both kissed your thumbs. You wiped a few tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“I really hope you meant all that, Spencer Reid, because if you were lying to me I have a pinky-back guarantee.” He smiled.

“There were no lies in this apartment tonight, y/l/n.”

He put his arm around you and you lay your head on his shoulder. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So,” you started, the anxiety seeping into your voice again. “What does this mean for us?”

“For us?” He inquired, sounding mildly confused.

“Well, you just kissed me, genius. I don’t think that came from out of nowhere.”

Spencer started to stutter things out.

“Well, I- it- I couldn’t think of another way to calm you down and I- it- just- I don’t know? I guess it depends on if you want a romantic relationship with me..? I don’t want to wreck our friendship but if you’re open to it-?”

You smiled softly.

“Yeah, I’m open to it. I mean, you kind of just promised me to never leave my side and if you do I have a finger-off warranty that’s never expires. soooo…”

“A lifetime finger-off warranty, indeed,” he smirked. “Just to clarify, I don’t want to tie you down. I just- we could be really great if we- if we tried.” You laughed a little.

“I already said yes, Spencer. Stop trying to sell me on it and just let it be.”

“Wow. So I have like a girlfriend now?”

“Yeah, you have like a girlfriend now.”

And with that, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and you settled in to watch a movie. You felt a lot better knowing there was at least one person in the world who would always choose you.

Every time.

[thecoleopterawithana]

Your quote: "So perhaps, when in 1989 Paul asks “Did I ever take you in my arms, look you in the eye, tell you that I do” the part that he “never did” was the latter"( with John according to your perspective??)--I saw a video where Paul says he's talking about how the workaday life meant he sometimes took marriage and Linda for granted--like we all do our spouses at times--and that was why he wrote that song. Your take please? Respectfully inquiring--thanks!

Hello, anon dear. Thanks so much for your respectful request! Especially considering that every opportunity I get to talk about “This One” is a personal pleasure.

I believe the video you were referring to is this one (eheh), where correspondent Bernard Goldberg interviews Paul for the TV series 48 Hours. The episode follows part of The Paul McCartney World Tour, which marked not only his first major tour outing in ten years, but also the first time in his solo career that a substantial number of Beatles songs were included in the setlist.

Paul is asked about “This One” near the 8:30 mark of the first video and his answer continues in the second part.

Here is a transcription of the segment in question:

-

Q: Let me ask you about one of the new songs, “This One”. Is it about a marriage?

Paul: A relationship, yeah.

Q: And about, not expressing emotions and feelings?

[Paul performing “This One”]

Paul: You get those moments, sort of late at night or when you’re feeling good and you think, “Oh, you know, it’d be great to kind of— I hope I tell her I love her enough, and all that.” And then come the morning, when you’ve got to get off to the office and it’s [yawns] “Okay, goodbye, love you!”, and so on. And, you know, life’s like that. And there’s never kind of enough time to— If you like your parents for instance, to tell them, “God, just what you meant to me.” 

[Paul performing “This One”]

Paul: You always think, “Well, I’m saving it up. I’ll tell ‘em one day.” And what happens with a lot of people is— Something like John, for instance, getting back to that subject. He died. 

I was lucky. The last few wee— months that he was alive, we’d managed to get our relationship back on track. And we were talking and having real good conversations. Real nice and friendly. But George, actually, didn’t, I don’t think, get his relationship right. They were arguing right up to the end. Which I’m sure is a source of great sadness to him. And I’m sure, in the feeling of this song, that George was always planning to tell John he loved him. But time ran out. And that’s what the song is about. There never could be a better moment than this one, you know, now. Take this moment to say, [hesitates] “I love you.” [Laughs] It’s not quite the same. 

-

Now, about your question. I take you were wondering why in the post you quoted me on I used an excerpt of this song to hypothesize about a facet of Paul and John’s relationship. 

Allow me to begin by saying that, as the wonderful @amoralto pointed out in the aforementioned post, one should be cautious about what kind of information we’re extracting from an art form like songs. The sources of inspiration can be multiple, and the exact meaning of the piece elusive even to its author. So it’s probably best to be prudent about taking the lyrics too literally or extrapolating the entire song as to be about a single situation/person. 

Nevertheless, there are still certain patterns and themes that keep emerging, and I am curious about examining those. And being songs one of the places where they more openly communicated and truly laid bare their feelings, I believe the tumble down the rabbit hole of speculation might be worth it, just to see what we may find there. 

As Paul put it:

The idea is that what I’ll leave behind me will be music, and I may not be able to tell you everything I feel, but you’ll be able to feel it when you listen to my music. I won’t have the time or the articulation to be able to say it all, but if you enjoy composing you say it through the notes.

Of course, John also said:

When Paul and I write a song, we try and take hold of something we believe in – a truth. We can never communicate 100 per cent of what we feel, but if we can convey just a fraction, we have achieved something. We try to give people a feeling – they don’t have to understand the music if they can just feel the emotion. This is half the reason the fans don’t understand, but they experience what we are trying to tell them.

So maybe we can experience the emotion they infused the song with, but not always be able to understand the circumstances that gave rise to it in their own lives.

To find that last crucial piece of the puzzle, one has to truly contextualise the song. And that’s where all the other more tangible sources of information come in, such as quotes and timelines. 

Of course, drawing conclusions from any kind of data is, in itself, an interpretation. And an inescapably personal one at that. 

The only way to approximate objectivity is through critical thinking and emotional intelligence. Continuously question your own assumptions and those of others, and don’t be attached to any one answer. Be willing to change your views based on new information and be open to considering new perspectives. I find that input from others is invaluable in drawing my attention to an angle I’d previously missed. For if our personal experiences sometimes blind us to certain facets of the subject we’re examining, they also give us a more intimate understanding of other sides of it, as we’ve walked in those same shoes before and know precisely what it feels like.

What I essentially mean with this disclaimer is that this is my current interpretation of the information. And my answers are usually so slow and long (my apologies) because I try to provide the data so that you can draw your own conclusions.

That settled, here is how I interpret Paul’s explication of “This One”. 

The interviewer begins by asking if the song is about a marriage and Paul sightly corrects him that it’s about a relationship. 

Then Goldberg posits his theory regarding the theme: “not expressing emotions and feelings.” And Paul goes on to explain, in his usual inclusive and generalising fashion: 

You get those moments, sort of late at night or when you’re feeling good and you think, “Oh, you know, it’d be great to kind of— I hope I tell her I love her enough, and all that.” And then come the morning, when you’ve got to get off to the office and it’s [yawns] “Okay, goodbye, love you!”, and so on.

He uses the second person to emphasize how the reporter must share his feelings — ‘you know what I mean, right?’ — thus making his experiences not only more relatable and perceivable, but it also slightly removes the focus from himself. You put it best when you said, “like we all do […] at times.”

He does start by giving the example of an apparently marital routine. And though it could have been chosen as something the interviewer would more quickly relate to, it may also be that he had difficulty “expressing emotions and feelings” in his marriage with Linda. He has spoken of such hurdles in his relationship with Nancy, which he expressed in his 2013 hidden track “Scared”. 

Well, I’m just like anybody else, man! You know? You get those moments. I don’t normally write about them; but it’s a good thing to use. I was feeling it, as well. I was newly in love with Nancy, and I was finding it a little difficult to say, ‘I love you.’ Number one, I’m a guy, and that’s a big excuse, I know, but it is a bit true to form…

— Paul McCartney, interview with Miranda Sawyer for The Guardian (13 October 2013).

So I slightly disagree with your assessment that the song is about “how the workaday life meant he sometimes took marriage and Linda for granted”. I don’t think he took his relationship with Linda for granted as much as he was unable to openly express how much it meant to him. He got inundated by “those moments” of love and appreciation, but then kind of used the hustle and bustle of everyday life as an excuse not to dwell on the discomfort of having to confess them.

I think it’s perhaps more accurate to say that the matter of “expressing emotions and feelings”, particularly actually saying “I love you”, is something that Paul has struggled with all his life and pervaded most of his relationships.

He even goes on to give the example of his parents, and how he wished he’d tell them, “God, just what you meant to me.” Which is a similar phrasing to the one he uses in “Scared”, more than two decades later:

I’m scared to say I love you / Afraid to let you know / That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth / Though I’m dying to let them go / Trying to let you know […]I’m still too scared to tell you / Afraid to let you see / That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth / Though I’m dying to set them free / Trying to let you see, how much it means to me / How much you mean to me / How much you mean to me now

But the relationship in which this theme of not expressing emotions and feelings seems most stark, at least as Paul expressed it publicly and in his music, is in his relationship with John.

He puts it quite plainly in another quote about “Scared”:

Paul: You can actually say, “I love you,” to someone, but it’s quite hard. And so that’s why it’s usually easier when you’re a bit drunk. It’s like ‘Here Today’ [on 1982’s Tug of War], which was for John, and there is the line, (sings) “Du du du du du du du, I love you,” and it is a bit of a moment in the song. It would be a bit like Keith Richards saying to Mick, “I love you.” I mean he does, but I’m not sure he’s going to say it. I’m sure the Gallaghers love each other on some level, probably quite deeply, but that certainly isn’t going to get said soon. I think it’s quite an interesting subject and I felt it most recently with [wife] Nancy, I knew I loved her but to actually say, “I love you,” you know, it’s just not that easy.

— Paul McCartney,  interview with Pat Gilbert for MOJO (November 2013).

Note that even here, in a quote about a song he wrote for Nancy, he harkens back to his experiences with having difficulty saying “I love you” to John. 

Paul even mentions that it’s easier to do it “when you’re a bit drunk” — I want to tell her that I love her a lot / But I gotta get a bellyful of wine — which seems to be a reference to “the night we cried”. That night in Key West in 1964 was an “important emotional landmark”, not only because they exposed themselves emotionally by crying, but they also may have actually said the big ‘I Love You’.

One night, we got pretty drunk and argued and laughed, and it ended up us both crying, because it was, you know at the height of your drunkenness, when you’re all, “Hey man, I love you, man. No, I love you, man.” That was probably the only time we just got that kind of intimate with each other. It’s a male machismo embarrassment thing. I mean, you might say to a girl, “I love you”, but in my case, within the group, The Beatles, it would have been difficult, even though we all did love each other. You just all had to be guys to the full. We were all rough, tough cream puffs.

— Paul McCartney, interview with the Daily Mail (4 June 2016).

He attributes his difficulty to a “male machismo embarrassment thing”, and that he could say “I love you” to a girl but not to his mates. But in his 2013 interview for The Guardian, he also points to the fact that he is a guy to explain his difficulties verbally expressing his love Nancy. 

But adding to the “stiff upper lip” imposed on northern lads, Paul himself is especially guarded about his feelings:

It’s funny because just in real life, I find that a challenge. I like to sort of, not give too much away. Like you said, I’m quite private. Why should people, know my innermost thoughts? That’s for me, they’re innermost. But in a song, that’s where you can do it. That’s the place to put them. You can start to reveal truths and feelings. You know, like in ‘Here Today’ where I’m saying to John “I love you”. I couldn’t have said that, really, to him. But you find, I think, that you can put these emotions and these deeper truths – and sometimes awkward truths; I was scared to say “I love you”. So that’s one of the things that I like about songs.

— Paul McCartney, on the challenge of giving too much of himself away when writing meaningful and truthful songs. Asked by Simon Pegg and interviewed by John Wilson for BBC 4’s Mastertapes (24 May 2016).

More than the pleasure associated with creating something out of nothing — “songwriting is like sex” — music also offers the utter relief of unburdening Paul of his feelings, which he finds great difficulty in exorcising in a more direct way:

Songwriting is like psychiatry; you sit down and dredge up something that’s inside, bring it out front. And I just had to be real and say, John, I love you. I think being able to say things like that in songs can keep you sane.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Robert Palmer for the New York Times (25 April 1982).

There was an inescapable need to come out, be real, and say to John, “I love you”; even if he has to “write it to the great record player in the sky”. 

Because more than speaking of a fear of expressing emotions and feelings in Paul’s day to day life — like in “Scared” — “This One” is clearly about the regret of doing it too late:

[L]ife’s like that. And there’s never kind of enough time to— […] You always think, “Well, I’m saving it up. I’ll tell ‘em one day.” And what happens with a lot of people is— Something like John, for instance, getting back to that subject. He died. […] And I’m sure, in the feeling of this song, that George was always planning to tell John he loved him. But time ran out. And that’s what the song is about. There never could be a better moment than this one, you know, now. Take this moment to say, [hesitates] “I love you.” [Laughs] It’s not quite the same. 

Even with his usual emotional distancing by projecting onto George and using “we” instead of “I”, Paul plainly explains the song is about cautioning people to take this moment to say “I love you”, at the risk of having time ran out on them as it happened with him and John.

And one can see how determined Paul is to get this message spread, as he often reiterates it when introducing “Here Today” in concerts — a song written in part out of his need to clearly say “I love you” to John — a frequent presence in his live performances for the last 20 year.

Paul McCartney’s One on One World Tour in Detroit, Michigan, at Little Caesars Arena on October 2, 2017.

Paul: One of the other things I say on our shows is that sometimes you want to say something really nice to someone, or pay them a compliment, or you feel a bit shy and a bit embarrassed, so you think, “Ah, I’ll say it tomorrow.” You put it off to another day. You know, you can put it off. And sometimes that’s too late; you’re too late. I wrote this next song after my dear friend John who passed away. Let’s hear it for John! And you know, when you’re kids, particularly — I mean, when we first started the Beatles we were in our early twenties, kind of thing — and you’re a bunch of guys, up in Liverpool at that time… There’s no way you’re gonna say to each other, “Hey, I love you, man.” It just didn’t happen, you know. You just didn’t say things. But you know, when [unintelligeable] we didn’t say it, so when John died, you know, I wanted to kind of say it somehow. So this next song is in the form of a conversation we didn’t get to have.

The fact that Paul has often connected the theme of not verbally expressing his feelings, and in particular of being too late to do it, to his relationship with John, is what led me use “This One”, in that post and in others, as an expression of that dynamic between them. 

In the post you quoted me on in specific, I say that perhaps the part that they “never did” was outright “tell” each other “that I do [love you]”, given that they have embraced — “take you in my arms” — and made intense eye contact — “look you in the eye.”

The song is basically a love song – did I ever say I love you? And if I didn’t it’s because I was waiting for a better moment… ‘There could never be a better moment than this one…

— Paul McCartney, in “Club Sandwich 52, Summer 1989″.

Paul goes on to repeat this sentiment of emotional frankness in the rest of the verse: “Did I ever open up my heart / Let you look inside?” A phrase that, in my opinion, so aptly encapsulates the issues Paul brought to the relationship, that I use it as a title for Paul-centered posts in the Don’t Let Me Down | Trust Issues series.

But to be honest, the thing that really convinced me that song was about him and John, was a moment in this session:

After singing the lines “Did I ever touch you on the cheek / Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile”, Paul mimics one of John’s characteristic smiles, as the wonderful @vairemelde illustrated in this post.

With all that said, it appears that all there is to do is to appreciate this wonderful piece of music.

Did I ever take you in my arms, / Look you in the eye, tell you that I do, / Did I ever open up my heart / Let you look inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

Did I ever touch you on the cheek / Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile, / Did I ever knock upon your door / And try to get inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

What opportunities did we allow to flow by / Feeling like the time it wasn’t quite right? / What kind of magic might have worked if we had stayed calm, / Couldn’t I have given you a better life?

Did you ever take me in your arms / Look me in the eye tell me that you do? / Did I ever open up my heart, / Let you look inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting / For a better moment that didn’t come. / There never could be a better moment / Than this one, this one.

The swan is gliding above the ocean, / A god is riding upon his back, / How calm the water and bright the rainbow / Fade this one to black.

-

Tangents

I’m Scared To Say I Love You

What About The Night We Cried

Did I Ever Take You In My Arms 

The Surrealist

[threewaysdivided]

I saw your conversation about Sam Manson. I was talking to Imekitty about this, but I’ve noticed a few things that (sort of) make Sam’s relationship with her parents seem more like teen-drama than actual hardship. If you look closely, she’s got a lot in common with them: outspoken political-activism, possible shared-interest in vintage clothes, and no shame in saying they don’t like certain people. Also, after the Fentons, they were the first to volunteer to use the Ecto-Skeleton, risks and all.

(In reference to this post.)

It’s been a little while since I rewatched DP so I’m not well-placed to do a detail-analysis implication-breakdown right now, but yeah - that fits with the overall impression I remember getting.  To me they came across as being sort of old fashioned set-in-their-ways conservative and snooty, and maybe a bit too Pleasantville -  but more often in the way of parents who do genuinely want good things for her and to be able to be proud of her despite not really understanding her interests, choices or friends and being very bad at expressing it.  Plus she seems to have her grandmother fully in her corner a lot of the time.

I really wish that the writers had committed to one or the other; either making it clear that Sam’s martyr/ persecution complex is mostly just regular self-inflicted teen-drama BS and giving her an arc addressing it, OR fleshing out the idea that she faces a lot of judgement/ pressure/ control/ nonacceptance in her home life and that her negative traits are a bi-product of defensive/ coping mechanisms resulting from that strained dynamic, rather treating things with Roger Rabbit Rules.  

(Which isn’t to say that a person can’t have similar interests/ personality traits to, and positive interactions with, their parents while still having a strained, broken or even abusive relationship with them on a deeper level, but the show never really goes hard enough in either direction to make it work.)

As mentioned the last post, this is kind of a consistent pattern across DP - the writers tend go with the low-effort first answer for whatever is Funny or Awesome or Convenient in the moment rather than putting in the work to find a solution that’s consistent with the characterisation, themes and world-lore overall.  There’s enough internal contradiction in the show that I don’t think it’s actually possible to take every canon detail as canon without fundamentally breaking things.  And in some ways that’s kind of cool; it makes the series more open to interpretation, and trying to distinguish authorial intent from authorial incompetence and come up with theories that account for as many pieces of canon as possible is really satisfying.  But, you know, it’s also kind of bad writing in general.

I think the thing that bothers me about Sam’s characterisation in particular is that - where it tends to be more obviously out-of-character when it shows up in other places - there’s a pattern to the inconsistency with how the writers handle Sam:

Throughout the series there’s a double standard in how Sam sees herself/ seems to expects others to act, compared to her own behaviour:

Despite being pro-pacifism she’s okay with smacking Tucker and encouraging Danny to destroy the trucks she doesn’t like

Sam values self-expression and is a feminist, but derides other girls for wanting to express themselves in a conventionally feminine way

Sam doesn’t like being forced to conform to others’ values but is okay with forcing others to conform to hers

Despite being anti-consumerist she shows very little discomfort at, or awareness of, her lavish home life and material belongings

She encourages Danny to take the moral high ground towards his bullies but has no problem antagonising and getting into petty verbal spats with Paulina herself

Sam stalks Danny and his love interest out of jealousy/ protectiveness but threatens to end their friendship when he does the same

In Mystery Meat, when Danny tries to express his discomfort/ anxiety, Sam hijacks the conversation to complain about her own parents instead of listening.

In One of a Kind Sam photographs Danny and Tucker hugging in their sleep, without their knowledge, with the stated intent of putting it in the yearbook, then uses it to blackmail them into silence. 

Side note: this joke is also tacky on a meta-level because it boils down to “male intimacy ha ha toxic masculinity no homo amiright?“ Would have been nice if show didn’t use low-key sexist humour as much as it did.

Instead of expressing that she’s hurt by Danny’s “pretty girls” comment in Parental Bonding, Sam retaliates by pushing him to ask Paulina out - a move she knows will most likely result in him getting publicly shut down and humiliated.

Then, after getting the result she wanted, she comes over to gloat and insults Paulina, rather than dropping it now that her point’s been made, which is what ultimately sets off the episode’s subplot.

In Memory Blank Sam permanently physically alters Phantom’s appearance to better suit her tastes while he’s not in a position to understand or give informed consent, then lies when Danny notices and asks about it later.

To be clear this definitely isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of her character and it’s not there 100% of the time - there are plenty of moments when she is loyal and generous and helpful and sincerely kind and where her stubbornness comes in handy.  But it’s the aggregate pattern of all these small instances that drives a crack through the foundation of her character integrity; producing this insidious undercurrent alternate-reading of Sam as someone who, at a deep level, just doesn’t respect or recognise that the emotional needs, pains, opinions, autonomy and boundaries of others are as real and valid as her own, and who responds to criticism with passive-aggressive hostility.

Again, I think that’s why people are so quick to point out that line from Phantom Planet, even though we all know the episode was a complete mess.  None of the examples above are particularly bad in isolation - you can’t really point at any one of them and say “oh no, bad girl” without sounding like you’re making a mountain out of molehill and irrationally hating on her just to hate on her.  It’s an uncomfortable slowburn pattern of subtle micro-transgressions that accumulates across the series - a “you might not notice it but your brain did”.  And it makes sense that it would be the worst-written episode that amplifies and brings that regular bad-writing undercurrent close enough to the surface for people to consciously recognise and use it to articulate those frustrations.

To wit: Not because it’s most telling of her character but because it’s most telling of the specific bad writing that regularly hurts her character. 

And again, from a storytelling point of view, it’s okay for Sam to have flaws.  She’s a teenager!  She’s learning.  She’s allowed to be egocentric and self-important and do things that aren’t the best at times.  It’s okay if these are her character weaknesses and a source of conflict with the rest of the cast.  But again, for that to be satisfying something really should have come of it.  It would have been nice if the writers were willing to have any self-awareness about these flaws being flaws that a person should recognise and grow past in order to have healthy relationships with others.  But they didn’t - because it’s easier to keep her as she is - to the point that they’ll actively bend the narrative to roll back or skip over moments that would have necessitated that growth.  So, even though they call attention to her flaws, the writers end up rewarding and enabling them instead of letting her learn.

And again, this isn’t meant to hate on Sam.  Hanlon’s Razor in full effect: it’s clearly a result of authorial/editorial incompetence rather than deliberate malice.  I know this isn’t the intended interpretation.

My preferred reading of Sam Manson is that she’s a Rosa Hubermann/ Hermione Granger/ YJS1 Artemis Crock-type character.  Someone who’s passionate and forceful and maybe a bit abrasive and hard to love at a glance, but whose core nature is compassionate and sincerely kind and loyal-to-the-death for the people they value.  I wish I could 100% like her without caveats; to be able to say that even if I don’t agree with her flaws I can at least understand that they’re a valid product of the life she lives, that they make her who she is and that she’s trying her best to be a good person who will get better despite them.  

But I can’t because the writers don’t give her that.  They’re always prioritising other things over the integrity of her character.  They don’t give her background enough time and context to make her negative traits feel resonant with it (because that would take time away from the Wicked Cool Radical Ghost-Fighting Superhero Action™) and the framing and plotting doesn’t give her chances to recognise or grow past them (because that would mean character development and those negative traits are an easy source of cheap conflict).  The writers just don’t seem to care all that much about Sam - her actual character, who she is, how she came to be that way, what she wants or how her negative traits would actually play against Danny and the others.

And that sucks.  Because she has a lot of potential to be a well-rounded and great character.  I’ve seen plenty of fics that seize that potential and roll with those gaps and the result is very good.  I wish I could like her canon depiction without feeling like I have to actively ignore a bunch of latent behavioural red flags as the price of entry.

She deserved better.

[funkymbtifiction]

[answered asks for this week]

Inside:

Finding character typings

Enneagram 6 / resources / split between thinking & feeling

Personal Responsibility & Fi / Fe

Integration / Disintegration lines (Enneagram)

Do functions dictate what we like or dislike?

Advice on explaining things simply

Do variants influence the Enneagram wing as much as the core?

Which type is the most curious?

Is it common for ISTJs and INTJs to mistype as each other?

How can an INTJ learn from an ESFP about Se?

Can you be organized even if you have no Te?

How are ISFJs so organized all the time without Te?

The character typings are getting harder to find now that you’ve been discussing Enneagram and typing people, especially with the influx of asks. Sometimes I just want to see all new MBTI typings, but there’s only tags for each specific type, franchise and character. Can you start giving character typings their own tag, like #typing?

Good idea. The mods will work on implementing more characters into the tag, but for now we’ve put our most recent ones here: https://funkymbtifiction.tumblr.com/tagged/character%20typing

Thanks for taking the time to reply, ENFP mod.

I think you make a good point about coming up with one’s own arguments/opinions rather than sort of leeching of other’s.

However I do think I process the opinions or arguments of others to some degree… at least some of the time. I distrust my own feelings/thoughts but I also distrust the arguments of other people too.

Socrates is noted as saying “The unexamined life is not worth living” but I also take issue with an ‘over examined life’. I feel like I am constantly analyzing myself and over thinking everything to the point of not knowing what to trust (whether it is because there are so many perspectives that leaves you thinking well… how can I say I’m right if so many other people have different opinions?). 

I suppose one answer to this is to just consider ourselves for the individuals we are in a sort of “well it’s true for me…”. However something about this makes me feel uncomfortable and tbh I often feel like I don’t know how I feel about a variety of things.

As a 6, I do understand. That’s a common problem for 6s. They tend to not know who to trust and if you distrust too much (I assume you’re an sp/so?) then there’s no one to trust and learn from, which leaves you high and dry. You need to learn how to grow in self-awareness and integrate to a calmer sense of self.

Google “Growth for the Enneagram 6″ for resources to help you. :)

Hi! I submitted a question, don’t know if tumblr "ate it",if not, sorry for asking again. Could u help with a concept please? Said thinking that everyone is responsible for their own feelings is a common Fi belief (because since they take personal responsibility for theirs they project this pattern on others).Does that mean that the belief that each person is responsible for their own feeling is not a matter of good boundaries but a Fi biased? I don't mean like u shouldn‘t apologize for feelings u have hurt or that u shouldn‘t care about the emotional effect u have on others, or that u don’t have to b empathetic/help ‘cause it isn´t ur responsibility. I mean that u shouldn’t have to stop yourself from living your life (be with who u love, traveling, leaving) cause living it might upset/hurt others. I used to deprive myself to not upset others, learned about boundaries & now don’t know what is/if there is a “right” If boundaries is a Fi biased?  Could u please help? Thanks             

There are a lot of great books out there on how to set boundaries. If you struggle to assert yourself, I highly recommend checking out your local library, they probably have at least six.

I have noticed a chronic inability to set good boundaries among a wide variety of thinkers and feelers both, so both Fi and Fe can be over-accommodating, to their own determent (including and especially if they are a core 9).

Some good things to remember are:

I will never say yes to anything I feel uncomfortable about or that goes against what I believe is right. (And if your “friends” constantly pressure you to do this, find other friends. They do not respect you.)

I will not respond to emotional manipulation. Do you know what that looks and sounds like? It often involves “If you were REALLY my friend…” “If you ACTUALLY loved me…” “Well, I WON’T GO IF YOU DON’T…” Anything that amounts to emotional blackmail. Any situation where the other person will not take “no” for an answer and tries to make you feel guilty.

Next, you have to learn how to shut down people. How to say no in a way they can’t argue with you, and then repeat your answer. “I can’t, but I’m sure you will have a great time. I look forward to hearing all about it.” “I cannot do this for you, but you are smart and talented. I know you can do it. :)” Etc. Better to sound like a broken record than be a doormat.

Regarding what you said about stopping living your life for other people:

You only get one life.

How you spend it, is up to you.

Other people cannot and should not dictate your life, because it’s not theirs.

When you make all your choices about the other person, you are giving them your life – you are stepping away from yourself and either allowing them to dictate your life, or using them as an excuse to avoid living your life out of fear.

Some people really do want to interfere in your life and make your life all about them – and often, these people are manipulative, selfish, and inconsiderate. They guilt you if you do not make all your decisions based on their responses. These are the people with whom you need boundaries, because they do not have your best interests in mind – they have themselves in mind. And nice people (regardless of type) tend to get “used” by people like this, because nice people want to be … nice. Avoid conflict. Keep others happy. Be kind.

The other possibility is using other people and their feelings as an excuse to avoid doing things you are scared about doing – like, “I can’t leave and go to college and get a career or be with this person, because my mom needs me.” In that instance, you make it all about your mom – but she may or may not need you, and if she’s a healthy individual, the last thing she wants is for you to sacrifice your future and your happiness and your chances on staying “for her.” In that instance, you’re just using Mom as an excuse not to admit you’re afraid.

The easiest way to spot Fe vs Fi in terms of things like kindness or making decisions based on others is that a Fe will want to bring others into emotional harmony and a Fi will not.

For example, you have two friends who are fighting. Actually, one blew up at the other one and now the latter person is not talking to the former person… who has no clue the latter person is actually angry at her. So the former person continues to be friendly in group e-mails. The latter person has not replied to any of them and says “I am done with that person.”

Now, a Fe would feel responsible for bringing harmony to the group, and actively mediate and/or interfere to bring about a resolution. They would not feel “okay” having two people in their close friendship circle scrapping, so they would try and fix it, because that’s what Fe does – it focuses on the emotional tone of the chosen group. If the people were non-responsive, it would pressure one or the other to do the right thing and apologize / forgive / make up, because Fe can’t go home and feel okay about this until everyone is back in harmony.

The Fi would look at the situation, be annoyed at the inconvenience this is causing them (forcing them to choose between their friends and/or take sides) and… either tell them off or leave them to sort out their own problems. Or say, “To hell with their over-reactive bullshit, if she wants to act this way and exclude herself to hold a grudge, she can do that. It’s not my problem” – and go on with their life / day and ignore the whole thing, shutting the ‘problem’ person out.

I'm not sure if this has any relevance to typing but something I keep thinking back on is this split between your thoughts and feelings (or at least that is how I articulate it). For example to be told something that makes complete rational sense, accept it at the time but then fall back into a state where you just sort of ignore what you've been told. It's like you're stuck in-between the two, like you can't fully trust or buy into the rational argument or your feelings. 6 type perhaps?

It sounds more like a lack of internal processing.

“to be told something that makes complete rational sense” <- allowing someone else to do your thinking for you and give you a solution, which means you hear it, you do not process it (think through it, articulate it in your own words, or see if it makes logical sense to you), and you discard it.

The best way to avoid ‘ignoring what you have been told’ is to process it. Think about it. Put it into your own words. Reason it out. Decide if it’s logical or not. Being “told” is not the same as “thinking” something through. The reason you cannot fully buy into it is… it’s not your argument.

You have met passionate people, right? They may be completely wrong, but they are passionate about their beliefs and/or argument because it’s THEIRS. The person parroting someone else’s argument is not passionate about it. They will abandon it, they will back down from it, they will discard it, because they put no real thought into it, they just took something from someone else and used it for a short time, rather than coming up with their own reasoning.

This is easier to do than framing your own argument or determination of logic, which is why almost everyone does it – but that’s why it goes in one ear and out the other. It didn’t involve YOUR brain. When you think about something, you truly think about it. It fires neutrons in your brain. It takes time to process, and it leaves a more lasting impression on you. It’s the same as the people who never learn from their mistakes, because they never sat down to think about why the mistake happened, the repercussions of the mistake, and what they think / feel about the mistake – how it reflects on and shapes them, and if they ever want to avoid making it again. They didn’t process it, so they’ll repeat it – and wind up expecting different results from doing the same things without variation.

The ideal thing is for your T and F process to work in harmony together. For you not to do anything that violates your sense of right and wrong (F) even if it’s rational (T); and to develop a sense of moral responsibility (F) to go with your natural reasoning and problem-solving skills (T).

You can see an imbalance in people when their functions are out of sync – like the F who is all F, all emotional reasoning, and no T strong foundation to back it up; or the T who is all achievement based or rationalizes that there is no good / evil, it’s all relative and subjective, who lacks a moral foundation (F).

6′s do tend to distrust their feelings. You are right about that. Emotions lead to emotional decisions, which lead to potential blind spots and unsafe things, which a 6 wants to avoid. But the 6 also has to realize that they are not purely rational, they do make emotional decisions – because they find logical reasons to avoid the things they fear. Fear is an emotion. Fear drives the 6. They are emotional but logical. Does that make sense? The 6 has to learn to see their emotional decisions and accept them, be honest about what’s really driving their logic. And they have to learn to be okay with being emotionally vulnerable.

If you want things to work in tandem in your stack, you have to learn to internally process things on some level and to come up with your own arguments. If you feel they are weak, study on how to make better ones. Look at what others do, but test all the arguments yourself – to see if they are sound, if you agree with them on a logical or moral level, to figure out if they are factually based (work in the real world), to find their flaws. Doing this will be good for you, regardless of your type. You need your own voice. Your own principles. Your own arguments. If you are a 6, the thought of doing this might feel a bit much at first – but it’s the only way you will come into “self-trust.”

Are the lines of integration and disintegration more important than identifying with the character traits of an enneagram type? What happens when you relate more to the traits than the healthy or unhealthy lines? Or the opposite you see yourself in the healthy or unhealthy lines but relate less to the core type? Thanks

Odds are you’ve never faced a full disintegration (which can last months) and aren’t old / wise enough to have integrated (my mom is just now moving into her 7 integration), so you should pay most attention to the overall type, its motives, its coping methods, its fears, and its behaviors. If you haven’t found one that makes you cringe, while also making you feel good about the virtues of that E type (both of which you share), you haven’t found your core type.

Have you ever looked at highly divisive movies/TV shows/musicals/books or just specific genres to see what functions are in play to cause that division? For example there are people who love the horror genre, and others who can’t stand to go near it. Or Call Me By Your Name was super decisive; half the viewers saw it as a beautiful love story, the other half as a horrifying tale of statutory rape. Or Love never Dies; around half see a deep layered masterpiece, the others are horrified by it either thinking it’s poorly made or the story should never have been told. 

So the other half of the question is: have you seen patterns in what kinds of genres of stories each function is drawn to? Or on the flip side, what genres they can’t stand?

Something as complex as personal tastes is much too deep to define  through cognitive functions. A lot of factors go into why people react or do not react to something – personal experience, trauma, what society thinks of it (is this accepted / not accepted?), mental health, likes and dislikes, etc. When you start trying to box people in by saying this or that type is drawn to this or that kind of entertainment or would be disturbed by this or that, you create giant generalities that can easily be disproven if a handful of people are completely that type but definitely not of that entertainment focus. (For example, I once had an INFJ tell me she knew I wasn’t an INFJ because I watched Hannibal, and a “real” INFJ would find that show much too violent and grotesque / be unable to separate their feelings from the emotions on screen. I didn’t tell her that another INFJ got me into it in the first place. ;)

This question actually allows me to say something I’ve wanted to for awhile now – cognition, MBTI, Enneagram, and other things… will never explain everything about who you are. It will never explain all your tastes, or thoughts, or passions, or interests, or eccentricities. You are a unique human being. You can think in patterns that correlate to cognitive functions, but that does not make you a robot coming off an assembly line. You get to have unique tastes different from other people with your personality type. You are far, far too complex a creature to have one or two simple explanations that define you. And that’s glorious.

So in short, no, I haven’t noticed any real patterns between tastes and how people respond to entertainment, except to say that one or two people (especially among critics) “start” the emotional response and others copy it. (Have you ever noticed how a lot of reviewers use the same words and, often abstract, reasons not to or to like something? You can tell someone who is genuinely concerned about a piece of entertainment, or who was disturbed by it, because they put it into their own intense, passionate and detailed words.)

Hi, this is a semi-mbti and weird question, but since two of the mods are Ne-doms, do you have any advice to high Ne users who want to be better at explaining stuff? I admire how the ENFP mod makes good analogies to explain stuff, which I do too since I'm INFP, but despite Si being higher in me, I lost connection to it and I feel useless and incompetent. What I say/write is lost in scattered abstractions which make me sound unreliable, which abhors Te and my (4)w3.

You need better Te development. Te is all about finding something that works for everyone that uses it – a streamlined process that produces the same results in a variety of different people. This is why a good analogy appeals to Te, because the information it is talking about has been simplified into language anyone can understand. It’s tempting for any intuitive to stay abstract in their conversation – but imagine yourself trying to explain whatever you are trying to explain to a child. What language would you use? Simplicity (if you can find it, some things are tremendously complex) is best, because not everyone speaks the same language – literally.

So if you find yourself being vague or abstract, slow down in whatever you are doing, and think about how you could make this more detailed or plainer in expression. This is HARD at first. Extremely hard. And it will be hard in some topics going ahead, even after you have gotten good at it. Most people are not simple and straightforward in their communication. They leave out details. They need others to ask them clarifying questions. Think about that, when you are looking at whatever you are writing – even if it’s just an e-mail. Is this clear enough that they will know exactly what I mean? If not, how can I make it clearer? Keep working on it, until you are being clear.

For non-Te users, and especially INTPs (I like y’all, but sometimes I don’t know what you are talking about) the key is to know what the point you are trying to make is, and to lay it out clearly without deviating into sub-trails. I realize you cannot do this in conversation, you process in your head as you go and that switches your conversational tracks, but when sending someone something you have written, you need to use the same idea – SIMPLE. Straightforward.

As for finding other things to compare it to, what’s an analogy everyone can relate to? That’s a good place to start. What do humans all have in common? (Basic needs, desires, and emotions.)

The thing I admire most about one of my INTJ friends is that she says exactly what she means and she means what she says, and if you ask her to explain what she means, she can do so in a way anyone can understand. She said she worked hard to develop that skill (to be plain-speaking) but it’s tremendously useful in her professional and personal life. So my advice is to practice saying what you want to say, and to make sure you are clear. When in doubt, ask someone else if they understand what you mean. If they say no, keep working on it. Practice. Make it a habit.

Does the instinctual variants affect the wing as much as the main enneagram type? Thank you.

I would say so, yes. In fact, I would say that while discovering your core is THE most important part of Enneagram (you get that right and the rest of your tritype wrong, you are still good, because your core’s the only thing that matters in terms of self-understanding and self-development), if you are in doubt about your wing, checking the iv’s on either side can be a useful tool in settling on one.

If you are an so/sp, for example, your entire stack will be so/sp. Your tritype should align with so/sp for all the main numbers and your first wing (they can fall in line with the second and third fix’s wings too, but your second fix’s wing matters less than your core’s wing, and your third fix’s wing is almost nonexistent in terms of influencing dramatically your personality).

Hello! I was wondering is there any type significantly more curious than the others? Or maybe is there any function which is connected with curiosity? Thanks! :D

You probably cannot beat an INTP 5w6 sp/so for curiosity. Ti wants to know how everything works, Ne has about a thousand different interests, and 5 wants to read everything it can / escape the outer world through knowledge. Sp is focused on fulfilling all its own needs, and sx-blind means no impulsive distractions – so all the time in the world to sit and read up on a million things.

HOWEVER… people of any type can be and often are curious. ;)

So I've recently taken some online MBTI quizzes, and I'm quite surprised that I got ISTJ in some of them. For around five years, I've always considered myself as an INTJ. This made me curious if I indeed have changed over the years, so I read the cognitive functions of the two types and compared them. I think there is some similarity between the Si and Ni but I can't seem to pinpoint which aspect. Is it normal for an INTJ to be mis-typed as ISTJ and vise versa? Thank you!

You don’t change type. It’s possible you’ve developed your lower functions more, or were mistyped INTJ when you are actually an ISTJ (which happens all the time on tumblr – sensors mistyping as intuitives because the S stereotypes are wrong / inaccurate / lack an understanding of sensing, since intuitives wrote them, and intuitives have very poor Se/Si and therefore do not understand instinctually how they work).

The simplest method of telling the difference is whether your regular daily pattern of information processing is to gather details in order to build a complete picture (S) or if you start deconstructing the big picture down to the details (N). The former is more focused in what’s tangibly possible, the latter is more abstract. The former may struggle to see the bigger picture easily and quickly, the latter may struggle to know which details are essential and which aren’t.

The similarity is that both process information carefully and methodically, and want to fully do so before engaging with it or putting it into motion in the outside world. The difference is your approach to the information. (Check our intj x istj tags. And http://ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is.tumblr.com/ is a good source for Si-Te processing examples.)

Female INTJ here. I didn't realize it until a few days ago, but I actually really admire some ESFPs. I admire their independence and their drive to go out and just do things(albeit poorly planned out and a bit impulsive). I find myself quite hesitant to do anything unless I'm 100% sure and then sometimes it just doesn't happen if it doesn't quite go my way. I was wondering if you had any tips on how I can successfully better myself by taking some cues and examples from ESFPs? What can I work on?

Start challenging yourself to do one thing a week without being 100% sure. Stick with ‘safe’ things for now (ie, not something that might wreck your life if you make the wrong impulsive decision) but learn to loosen up and pay more attention to taking opportunities as they arise rather than waiting endlessly. It also sounds like you might have an Ennagram 5 fix. They like to be totally prepared before they start, but what they fail to realize is the thing they fear most – going out into the world and getting life experience – is what will help them the most – going out and trying things, instead of just reading and thinking about them.

So, start trying to DO and not just THINK ABOUT.

Hello! As I understand, the inferior function is something that one is bad at but can use eventually. However, what does that mean for those that don’t have that function in their stack? For example, those with inferior Te has a want to be organized in the outside world but is bad at doing it. What does that mean for the types that don’t have Te in their stack? Are they even worse at organizing outside of themselves than IXFPs? Or is it that when those who have no Te in their stack organize things outside of themselves it takes so much energy for them that they’re less likely to do so since it’s not natural for them at all? Also, is this concept applicable to all the functions (I.e. no Si in stack meaning horrible at learning from past experiences, no Fe meaning bad at catching the mood in the room, etc.)? 2/2  PS Thank you so much for this blog! I’ve learned so much just from going through everything :)

You can learn and adapt with whatever functions you have, to be successful in the world. High Te’s learn how to “fake” Fe to get things done. SFJs can go get a book on organizing from the library, adopt all the Te author’s methods, and bring their outer world into organization. Etc. Every type is better off when they can learn from someone good at what they want to be – if you want to become organized, read, watch, and adapt material from organizational experts. If you want to learn to ‘fake Fe’ – read material from people who are good at getting people to work together in a Fe way and adopt the methods. Everything has been done before. If you want to learn it, find someone who does it and copy / adapt from them to make it suit your lifestyle.

Learning from past experience has more to do with stopping to process the experience – that’s why it’s useful to either collectively sit down and think through what happened to you at the end of a day (how you felt about it, how you responded, how you can better respond in future) or write it down. It’s proven that writing help us clarify our thoughts. We also get to know ourselves and our opinions much better through writing them down. If you write down something, you have to think about it – how to say it, what you really think or feel about it, and that forces you to process the incident. Processing often means learning from. It’s the people who never stop to seriously take stock of themselves that never learn from their mistakes.

If you are a Fi who wants to feel the mood in the room, start watching other people. Paying attention to them. Read books on how to read people and their moods, their “tells.” Do you know the difference between a genuine smile and a fake one? Between a smile and a sneer? Can you tell when someone is actively interested in what you are saying (watching you, leaning forward, asking questions) or just tolerating you (glancing around, not asking questions, leaning back in their chair)?

Whatever you want to learn in life – there’s someone who is doing it. Find them. Look at what they do. And then find a way to adopt it into your life.

Why do the ISFJs I know all really good at organizing and getting rid of clutter? Isn't Te their PoLR? It doesn't make sense to me but I'm sure they're typed correctly and it's been confirmed by multiple sources.

Si.

There’s about ten thousand decluttering books out there. Being sensors, your ISFJs have probably read those books. Si anywhere in the stack thinks, “If this worked for them, it may work for me.” Si believes you can repeat success by following the formula. If this other person did A + B = C, I can do A + B = C.

Intuitives often waste time trying to re-invent the wheel, because “copying how they did it” never occurs to them.

Plus, as sensors they are oriented to their living space and how it makes them feel. Si is a fussy dominant function that adheres to the abstract sensation of things, so a Si-dom who likes to keep things tidy so that they feel in harmony with their environment is naturally going to gravitate toward processes that help them keep their space tidy.

This is not always the case. Some Si-doms packrats collect and imbibe things with ‘memories’ and ‘sentiment’ (their feeling function) and wind up with clutter.

- ENFP Mod

[restnowyourhardshipisover]

Can you elaborate on how c!Tommy is toxic to c!Wilbur? I know how when c!Wil was revived c!Tommy said that c!Wil should feel even worse than c!Wil felt in Pogtopia. https://youtu.be/1VXmOBgA7w4?t=3278 What are other examples, like how did he isolate c!Wilbur? /genq

/rp

I assume this is either about my response to how people are reading the apology scene from Bust, or my comments about Wilbur and Tommy's personalities play into fan interpretation, but I'm going to try and answer it more broadly.

You were probably looking for a few short bullet points, but I wrote an essay. 

I generally avoid the word "toxic" simply because it's not very precise and is overused to moralize. (Though I'm sure there are examples of me using it). I don't actually think Tommy's being toxic, necessarily.

I think it's useful to understand independent of Tommy's internal logic (because it's there. This isn't the post for it, but Tommy does have reasons for everything I'm discussing that he does here, some are even good ones) what Tommy is doing and the impact it seems to be having on Wilbur.

Getting the obvious out ot the way first, everything Tommy said immediately following Wilbur's resurrection is... less than nice or supportive. I know that a lot of interpretations see Wilbur as very understanding of or unaffected by those comments, given the euphoria of being alive again. I'm not particularly convinced, but I have no evidence aside from Wilbur's fragile self image that would support either perspective. So all I will say is I don't think it's a massive extrapolation to assume that the guy who is canonically suicidal might remember and internalize being told he's a terrible person for being alive and that he doesn't deserve something as simple as a fucking sunrise.

Moving on, It's incredibly tragic that Tommy isn't able to (willing to?) understand that while the moment was scary for him, for Wilbur, (who spent more than a decade in complete isolation) seeing Tommy was a extremely positive memory. And that Wilbur didn't do anything wrong even though Tommy felt bad. I don't think it's much of a stretch to extrapolate the impact of being degraded and despised for the bare moment he felt relief and happiness is having on Wilbur's self image. And following that reception Wilbur notably does not talk about purgatory or his trauma/coping from the experience itself. Instead focusing exclusively on either future goals or his mistakes prior to his death.

But those both involve some interpretation, however mild. For something that's spelled out very directly in the text, I would say the clearest examples of Tommy isolating post-revival Wilbur can be found in Wilbur's revival tour Where Wilbur goes around and does his best to apologize to and reconnect with people on the server. Tommy systematically pulls aside people Wilbur is talking to and informs them not to trust Wilbur and exercises outsized control over who Wilbur is allowed to talk to and what he's allowed to say.

With Jack Manifold, Wilbur very sincerely articulates a clear understanding of how he hurt Jack in the past, what went wrong and why. Without expecting anything from Jack for anything except that opportunity to apologize, and Jack seems genuinely moved. Tommy undercuts this, taking Jack aside to convince him not to trust Wilbur. Something Wilbur may or may not hear but definitely is aware that his apology was ultimately not effective.

Tommy even tries to stop Philza from reuniting with and apologizing to Wilbur and the main reason it doesn't work is because Philza's pretty focused on his not-dead-anymore son and flat out ignores Tommy.

Similar situations happen with every other encounter Wilbur has in that stream and the pattern carries into the Burger Van arc. Tommy is very careful to linger around Wilbur and ensure his presence in Wilbur's conversations and immediately after them, either with Wilbur or with whoever Wilbur spoke to.

And with Bust we are given confirmation that the reception has seriously impacted Wilbur during his conversation with Philza. Philza of course has no way of knowing, (and frankly I think Wilbur may not know) but the reason is Tommy's interference. We saw it happen.

As I referenced before Tommy's of course got his reasons and I don't think he's secretly scheming to erode Wilbur's self image or sabotage Wilbur's connections to the server. But I think those things are happening, and I think Tommy's actions play a large role in why they're happening. Adding to the fun complexity, it's hard to deny that Wilbur fundamentally needs the support Tommy offers. He's not in a position where he can operate alone.

That's why I read Tommy being directly outside of the door when Wilbur opens it less as a narrative cue that "Wilbur needs to apologize to Tommy a third time" and more a narrative cue that Tommy was listening in.

[davidhuzyk]

SURVIVOR 41 SEASON PREMIERE THOUGHTS

Here are my thoughts on the opening episode of the new season. Nothing I’m about to say is revolutionary, it seems like all these opinions have already been shared before, but I wanted to wait a few days to think on everything as well as talk to some family/friends before putting my final thoughts down. Overall it was pretty polarizing, lots to both love and hate:

PROS

Diverse cast: I don’t think there’s a dud among the whole cast, and the diversity allows for more dynamic chemistry and a lot of different stories to be told

Candid shots of production: I like that they are letting us in to that world. Previously in moments like the medical disaster in S32 Kaoh Rong they showed production, and it made a great impact as a viewer. I don’t find it breaks immersion, in fact the opposite. The average audience member nowadays is much more knowledgeable & initiative than back in 2000, when a show trusts its viewer in this way I think it helps them become more invested in the show, understanding the ins & outs of how it’s functioning

Editing/storytelling style: there was a lot of great moments playing with the edit this episode that previous seasons tended to stray away from. I enjoyed the edit showing/giving us as a viewer information the contestants don’t have yet, like hidden advantage locations. I also enjoyed how they presented the Prisoner’s Dilemma, leaving it a mystery until tribal council whether or not Xander & JD chose to risk or protect their vote. It’s nice that in yet another way production is trusting us as a viewer with more (or less) info

Fourth Wall Breaking: this is both a pro and a con for me (con to follow). I enjoyed the moments Jeff spoke to us as a viewer, explaining new rules or changes to the game. This reminded me of S1, and I think was a great way to help any new fans coming in to the show. Only new changes were discussed, and it was kept relatively brief, so even for super fans it didn’t feel bloated or like a time sink

Subtitles at tribal: while I have more to say on live tribals, I do at least appreciate this time having full subtitles for all conversations taking place. While contestants may want to obscure info from other players, us as viewers should never be left in the dark, so I appreciate this effort being taken this season

Penalties for losing challenges: I enjoy this twist, as it seems to carry the spirit of the game. This is Survivor, it should be about having to get by on less, not more. I always found it odd that there were “reward” challenges. There are two ways to give a team an advantage, you can boost them up with a prize, or you can penalize the opposition, and I’m happy to see this element come more into play. Similar ideas had been done before in previous seasons when a contestant would get to raid the opposing tribes camp for one or two items (ie. Sandra in S7 Pearl Islands) and that always seemed to make for great television

Footage from Home: I enjoyed the return of footage from back home like in the earlier seasons. It helps us connect and become more invested in the contestants, and I assume they will go away after the first episode or two, so long term they don’t seem to pose a problem

Shot in the Dark: this twist is just weak enough to be balanced. In essence I don’t see this really changing or impacting the game in any significant way, but it does at least maintain a glimmer of hope for each contestant so as a viewer you’ll never be bored. Should someone pull this off I think they are deserving of the free immunity for having read the situation properly, and would make for great television. Some may say this could make for an unfair moment with a separate contestant “wrongfully” going home, but that’s always been the case since hidden immunity idols were introduced. At least this way every contestant is aware of the confirmed, tangible (albeit slim) threat and not just the idea they “could potentially” have an idol

CONS

Cinematography: it seemed off, very different than last seasons. The confessionals all looked fine, but you certainly noticed it during camp life and challenges. There were no night shots used, a lot more static camera shots, and the slow motion during challenges was just overblown. There was maybe one good slow motion shot of Xander grabbing his buff and jumping in the water, every other one felt forced (Brad bellyflopping? Brad chopping bamboo? Naseer huffing & puffing a sandbag a couple feet?)

Shorter game length: an easy one to criticize, and I understand the reason why it’s only 26 days, but the condensing of the game seems to already have an odd ripple effect that I worry will make for a disjointed end game

Two Tribes Going to Tribal: this is most likely related to the 26 day time crunch, but if this is the standard this season it makes me worry how strong of a narrative we will get for each tribal. This premiere episode wasn’t too bad, but it was a 2hr premiere, regular 1hr episodes will surely have a hard time balancing every contestants narrative in that amount of time

Still Live Tribals: I know some people like these as they are exciting, but come on, this is chaos! In the early days Jeff would yell at contestants for trying to get up out of their seat. Jeff needs to maintain control again. Tribal is like a courtroom, Jeff is your judge and there is literally a jury, you wouldn’t see the defendant in a courtroom standing up, running around, whispering to others… there must be order!

Fourth Wall Breaking Moments: as mentioned above I enjoyed when Jeff explained new game dynamics to us as viewers, but when he would interrupt a conversation with the tribes to turn to the camera I just felt cringe. The worst was “alright, first tribal council”. It was so easy to leave that on the cutting room floor, the editors should have known better on that one especially

The Prisoners Dilemma: in concept this maybe wasn’t a bad idea, but the execution was horrible. Analyzing the setup, to me it only makes strategic sense TO risk your vote. The first problem is that a regular prisoners dilemma does not occur within a game, so normally you’re probably not as invested about the outcome of the other prisoners, only your own. But here because it’s a game it does make strategic sense to hinder your opponents. So risk your vote, because you either get an extra vote, or you’ve stolen two votes from opposing contestants for your one. Also looking at this specific situation, all three contestants who went on the boat were debatably the strongest physical player on their tribe, so it would make sense for each individual to want to weaken those other players and increase their risk of going home, in turn weakening their overall tribe. If they could trust their tribe than returning without a vote is not the worst thing, if they can properly articulate the situation and work it to their advantage (Xander was a great example of this, JD showed us the opposite lol). Overall it feels like a pretty flawed twist and needs reworking

No Shelter Building Focus: not a huge con, but I did miss the focus on shelter building. Through the conversation & act of shelter building we as a viewer usually get to see who is a leader, who might be confrontational, who is a team player, etc. But more so we’re reminded of the actual survival element of the show, which production seems to be putting less focus on

No Intro: not the first season to do away with the intro sequence but I would have liked to see it return

Production Challenge Errors: some of the recent staffing changes with CBS must have been on the Challenge Production team because there were some glaring problems with that first challenge. Firstly, Yase’s yellow oar completely blended in to the yellow rope, they had a distinct disadvantage. I know some people will say if they couldn’t notice the other two tribes grabbing their oar from that location it’s their fault, but that’s a crappy excuse, it should be completely level & fair entering a challenge. Also what was with the double anchors on the boats? Perhaps it was left on the cutting room floor but I don’t recall Jeff mentioning prior to the challenge beginning that the boats had two anchors. Now I’m certainly no expert when it comes to nautical knowledge but as far as my life experience I‘be only ever seen or heard one anchor being referenced on use in a boat. Clearly all of the Luvu tribe thought the same as they only unhooked their front anchor. Jeff however later in the challenge yells to the Ua tribe and reminds them to unhook both anchors. Luvu was further away having had a lead so they very likely couldn’t hear Jeff when he said that. It’s like Ua was given an extra advantage. It also was unclear what the objective with the boat was, I was surprised to all of a sudden see Ua paddling in the opposite direction back towards the ship. Production should have had them race in a circle instead of a straight “there and back”

Game Within the Game: I’m sorry, this is the lamest addition they’ve ever added. Really? A standard rebus puzzle? They don’t take up enough time/focus during an episode to actually have any impact, and the puzzles themselves have so far been extremely simple. Jeff says this is “for the kids”, but any child young enough to find that puzzle challenging certainly doesn’t have the attention span to sit through an entire episode and find the puzzle in the first place. For any adult wanting to play this game as well the answer will be online within minutes of it airing… what’s the point? Pure fluff that has nothing to do with the game

Within Episode Flashback: I certainly hope this doesn’t become a habit, but during JD’s confessional when he talks about building fire they actually flashback to him just minutes ago having built the fire. Seriously!? We literally just saw it, why waste screen time showing it again? That was a poor call from some editor and I hope this doesn’t become a storytelling pattern

And finally, the “Guys” debate: so much has already been said on this. Personal feelings aside from the use of the phrase, this is a discussion that should have been had off camera, and came off feeling way to pandering. Jeff literally says at the beginning of the episode “we are all going through what’s most likely the biggest world incident we will ever experience”, but yet we spend more screen time talking about the word “guys” than the pandemic and all the emotional trauma that may have caused? I know Survivor likes to be sensitive, but this was not the way to go about it. It doesn’t ruin the show for me, it’s just a phrase I know I can “survive” without it, but I hope this isn’t the first step in many changes like this down the line. I’m all for being inclusive, but the method in which the show decides to go about change can actually alienate their existing fan base, so I hope they make better decisions on how to implement change moving forward

[chalcid]

2: The Birth Of A Friendship (Disappear)

Monday morning, I hauled myself out of bed early in the morning and packed up for school. Mom and Tilly were still asleep, heck, even the babies were silent, but Dad, unfortunately, was up.

He stepped in front of the refrigerator.

"Aren't you going to say good morning to your father," he asked.

I screeched incoherently at him in reply. Morning-me is not articulate.

He shook his head in disapproval but allowed me to retrieve my leftover burger and fries from the fridge.

I bounced on my heels as my food heated in the microwave as my dad, no doubt, was trying to summon every bit of 'How to make polite conversation with your teenager' he half-heartedly learned at some point.

"So... I heard you had a bit of trouble on your dive," he said awkwardly.

I didn't look away from my leftovers.

"You know, it's always good to be at your full magical capacity before you enter a dangerous situation."

I snorted. The microwave beeped, and I retrieved my food.

"Good chat, Merika," he told me "Have a good day at school."

I glanced at him, mouth full of burger. He grimaced.

Tilly opened the door to her bedroom, fuzzy pink bathrobe trailing behind her like a cape. "Have a good day at work, sweetie," she told my dad, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you," he told her, sighing like he was a man that actually did something tiring.

...

"Hey, good morning," Trite said brightly.

Poseikion scooted over to make a space for me on the bench.

I plopped down on the bench and swung my bag onto my lap "Remember the Unit 3 Test half-a-vase?"

"Not strongly," Poseikion responded.

"I think I found the other half yesterday," I informed him "The color doesn't exactly match, but it's about the right shape and a similar pattern."

"How exciting," Trite said absently "Where's Pacifinos?"

"Probably having trouble finding a shirt that matches the cute skirt she got this weekend," Poseikion sighed "She's going to miss the bus. I'll go talk to her."

"Tell her to go with something black or white," I suggested.

"I will," Poseikion replied, with a dramatic flourish of his coat as he slipped back inside the house.

"So," Trite said awkwardly.

"What?" I replied.

"After school, do you want to head down to the beach and throw chips at the seagulls," Trite asked.

"When have I not wanted to throw chips at seagulls?" I cackled. "Maybe we can train them to be our spies. Or adopt one and keep it as a pet."

"Love your line of thinking, but there's no way my parents would go for that," Trite beamed.

"Ugh, parents," I sighed dramatically "They're the worst."

"I thought your parents kind of just let you do whatever you wanted?" Trite asked.

"They do," I said, too quickly. Trite did not look convinced. "I mean, they still do. But Tilly just moved in and with the divorces and my new half and step-siblings...it feels weird. I dunno, the family used to be a small part of my life but now it's trying to take up more space."

"Well, you can't expect too much from your loser parents," Trite sighed.

"Of course," I agreed.

Poseikion and Pacifinos hopped out the door. I could hear the bus pulling up.

"Wow, love the skirt, where'd you find it?" I said brightly.

Pacifinos twirled "The community garage sale. They've got some good stuff there if you know where to look."

"Neat, very neat," I said, just as the bus pulled up.

Pacifinos and Trite began to tell some story, but I was still thinking about my family. And then, unprompted, my brain decided to remind me that "The demons are calling the sharks to their capital in the west"

I shuddered.

Avoiding home was always a good plan, but avoiding the western bays might be an even better one. ...

It was difficult to get through my morning with so much on my mind, but the math problems, as ridiculous and pointless as they may be, helped distract me.

That didn't mean I didn't eagerly await lunch.

At long last, the bell rang, and I dashed down the halls to the smelly cafeteria. Edonia was already there, absently picking at her sandwich as she stared at her book, brow furrowed.

"Reading anything good?" I asked her.

She looked up from her book "Oh, just another romanticized 'founding of Ilcodeux' stories," she told me "Only this author is apparently convinced that Madeline Haddock and Lord Elias were in love. I mean, it's pretty obvious looking at records from the time that she and Daphne were basically married."

"Ugh, that's the worst," I said supportively. The triplets sat down next to us. "Hey, you know a lot about magic, right? Would it be possible for demons to call a bunch of sharks? Like, magically?"

"Mm... maybe," Edonia said, pulling another book out of her backpack "You could check with an actual demon, though. Don't you have art class this afternoon with Deyanira?"

"Yeah, but like?" I said "I don't know her? And the magic capabilities of demons is a weird topic for a first conversation. So could I maybe have some recommended reading instead-"

"Hey!"

I turned around, momentarily terrified, before realizing it was Casey. "Oh hey," I turned to my friends and smiled. "This is the girl who pulled me out of the ocean yesterday."

Casey cringed "Um... I'm actually... not a girl," she said "She/her non-binary. I'm not really out to my family, so..."

"Oh, of course," I said "My apologies. This is Casey, the person who pulled me out of the ocean yesterday."

Pacifinos grinned "I love your hair," she told Casey.

"Oh, thank you," she said "My cousin cut it."

Awkward silence.

"Oh, shoot, if you want your flannel back, I don't have it with me," I informed her "But I could run by your place this evening and drop it off. I washed it. Is that okay?"

"Oh, that's so nice of you," Casey said. "I actually came over here to ask... well, uh.. this is going to sound kind of awkward, but I didn't catch your name?"

"Merika," I said dramatically "Merika Saltwaters."

Casey's face lit up "Like Prince Edociel Saltwaters?"

"He's my great great great grandad," I said. "I get asked that a lot. Anyways, do you want me to drop off your sweater later today? Is there a good time for you?"

"Sometime around five should be good," Casey told me "My house is 207 Ghost River. As the name suggests, there are ghosts, and they do come out at night."

"Are they friendly?" I blurted.

"Yes," Casey replied "They'll probably tell you all about the history of Ghost River if you asked."

"Hm. I'll have to add that of my list of things to do," I said. "Well, it was lovely talking to you, Casey."

"You too," she grinned at me. She had a lot of teeth.

She skipped off and I returned to my sandwich.

"You made a friend," Trite commented.

"I did," I said "Well, I think she's my friend. A fellow lover of topics adults find morbid, at the very least."

"Does she want to be a mortician or something," Poseikion said, scrunching his nose.

"No," I replied, "An explorer."

"What is there to explore," Trite asked.

"The Beyond," A couple of us whispered.

"Ah," Trite said "My mistake."

The bell rang. I stuffed the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and swung my bag over my shoulder "Bye guys," I said incoherently.

"See you in art class," Pacifinos said quietly.

...

I knocked on the door to 207 Ghost River. Ghosts in old-fashioned clothing danced to fiddle music. Down the river, little children were playing with an alligator. That didn't seem safe but who am I to judge?

Distant thumping from inside the house as someone raced down the stairs. Casey threw the door open, winded.

"Here's your flannel, washed and dried as promised," I presented the flannel to Casey.

"Oh, thank you," she said. "Wait, did you mend that rip?"

"My step-mom probably did that. Is that a problem?"

"Oh, no, I was just surprised," Casey said, pulling the flannel on.

"I'll thank her for you," I said politely.

"Would you like some pie," Casey blurted.

"Sure," I said.

Casey gestured for me to enter the house.

"Shoes on or off?" I asked politely.

"On is fine," Casey said absently. Three adorable little floofy dogs ran up to us and began to pant with delight. Casey tossed them some dog treats.

"Who's a good doggy," I whispered "It's you. All of you are top-notch doggos."

Casey led the way to the kitchen.

"Casey," her mom yelled, "No pie before dinner."

"It's not for me," she defended "I figured Merika would like a slice."

"Merika?" her dad asked.

"She means Decimus's kid," Casey's mom answered.

"Oh, her," he replied.

Casey handed me the plate. "What do you think?"

"It's excellent," I said. "Peach?"

"Yes," Casey's mom replied.

"Yum. Thank you."

"It's no problem, sweetheart," Casey's mom said. "I make too many deserts for the seven of us anyway. Casey, why don't you show your friend your work?"

"She'd probably think it's boring," Casey mumbled.

"Depends on what it's on," I said truthfully.

"Well, okay," Casey said. "Upstairs."

I followed her upstairs, the trio of floofballs following us. A fourth one greeted us at the top of the stairs. It was smaller than the others, and light grey.

"Good dogs, all of you," I whispered.

"I'm trying to build a boat," Casey informed me.

"Very cool," I remarked. She opened the door to her room.

There were two beds, so presumably, she only occupied half the room. One wall was plastered with boat designs, mathematical calculations, fish sketches, and to-do lists.

"Oh, wow," I said, "You have been through a lot of designs, haven't you?"

"Yep," Casey said dejectedly "Nothing works. I actually got to the point of building a full-sized model last month but it sank."

"Wow," I said "You know, you can check out old boat blueprints from the library. I've got a whole list of books about boats that might help."

"Oh," Casey said, "Um, thanks."

I admired her boat drawings for a moment longer. If that sketch was pulled off the page and onto the water, there's no chance it would float, but it was made with such love.

"Well, thanks for the pie and the boat discussion, but I should head back," I said politely "See you around?"

"Yeah," Casey agreed.

We really had no idea.

[collegesthatrequiresatessay312]

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[the-energon-hole]

Anon Asked: Hey! Can I request Rescue Bots Boulder, Heatwave, Salvage, and possibly High Tide comforting a human s/o who's terrified of storms during one? Hurricane Irma is passing over rn and the wind is so loud it's scaring me half to death, I could use some big bots being soft and sweet. Thank you so much!

((I am so sorry you are dealing with the hurricane. Please stay safe!))

Boulder

Storms are a pretty common thing on Cybertron, the only difference is that the rain isn’t water and is mostly fire and hot winds. It’s still a very noisy and disruptive thing, but Boulder has adapted to not let the noise and the images bother him- but he can understand why this scary force of nature bothers you so heavily.

Nature can be both beautiful and cruel; he has learned that lesson the hard way. His coping mechanism is to surround himself with things that make him happy, which is why he gently whisked you away to below the firehouse to his private space. He made sure to have plenty of potted plants lining the room, with classical soft music playing in the background of calming ambiance, and he also had a stack of books he thought you might like him to read to you.

It was such a sweet show of affection that it almost moved you to tears, and you relaxed a little on his chest as he sat with you wrapped in a warm fluffy blanket on his chest as he read to you some of his all-time favorite adventure books. The music wasn’t enough to drown out the full volume of the storm, so when a loud crack or a particularly violent gust of wind could be heard, his immediate response was to place his servo around you and gently rev his warm engine to let you know that he was right there, and that you were safe, and that he won’t let anything bad ever happen to his beloved little human.

Heatwave

Storms on earth were more disruptive and annoying than anything, but this particular storm was predicted to be destructive. Most of the people have already fled and found safer shelter, but he and the rest of the family were going to wait it out in their house- after all they were the only 911 response unit on the island, they can’t exactly leave.

His idea was to just ignore it, and to continue with life as if nothing was actually happening, though that changed quickly when he noticed you were having a hard time coping with the storm.

He knew you weren’t as brave as you let on, and he was most definitely not going to gloat about it later, but for now he feels like it’s his obligation to make sure you are going to be ok. Though he is not great with all that mushy lovey stuff, he knows when to take a situation like this with a gentle servo.

He isn’t great with making comforting noises, and he isn’t great with articulation of words all the time, he is great for letting you bunker down in his alt mode as you wait out the particularly loud storm. You appreciated what he was trying to do, and it made you feel safe to be able to lay down in his fire truck mode while you just tried to pass the time with conversations and word games.

Salvage

Wow, this storm sure is causing a lot of havoc out there, he was glad that you guys were all sheltered away from the raging winds and harsh rainfall. He feels guilty for saying it is a kind of beautiful sight to see weather patterns become extreme like this on earth. It happened all the time on Cybertron, and it was kind of comforting to him to know that the planets were more similar than they were different.

Speaking of comfort.

You were huddling over in the corner there, looking more afraid than a static hound that was caught in a hunter’s trap. He might be new to this human thing, and he might be new to this relationship thing- but he knew what it was like to be afraid, to be afraid and without any friends around to let you know that everything will be ok.

He was here though, so here comes the comfort truck.

Close proximity was a good way to make sure someone was ok, so get ready for him to hold you close and tell you that everything will be ok as long as he is there. How about you pass the time by listening to him talk about how he can jury rig a space bridge if he really wanted to! Between the nice grip of Salvage’s hand and his constant chatter, the storm raging outside was just about forgotten as you couldn’t help but smile at all the things he had to say.

He might not be “good” at this relationship thing, but he will always be a good friend. In the end, that was all you could really ask for.

High Tide

Being on the rusted sea on Cybertron has caused this old salty dog to not be afraid of all these noisy and windy storms. At least on earth it was water and not hellish fire! Now that would be sight for these humans to see, fire raining down from the heavens in concentrated bursts! He won’t say that he missed it, but he just missed Cybertron in general, firestorms in all.

You were afraid of this storm though, and High Tide wouldn’t go to land to allow for evacuation of his ship- “we can ride it out; this old thing can handle anything!” Maybe he was starting to regret his decision- not because he couldn’t handle the weather that the earth was throwing at him, but because he can see how terrified you were huddled around your bunk like some kind of scared animal. Maybe he should listen to you a little more than he does, which he will apologize for later he supposes.

For now- nothing like a good war story and a warm cup of whatever it is that you humans drink- Tea! That’s it.

He would sit you down either next to him or on him, as he recalls his time on Cybertron and his fight between the Autobots and the Decepticons- his valiant efforts to single-handedly destroy the evil forces that threatened his way of life. You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to comfort you as you sipped on your warm drink, you are most definitely going to squeeze an apology out of him later, but for now you relax as you listen to his over embellished stories of his old glory days.

[bonearenaofmyskull]

Re: pure empathy: when does Will realize that Hannibal is in love with him?

He asks Bedelia about it at the beginning of 312, “The Number of the Beast is 666.” 

There have been a number of discussions over time about why it wouldn’t have occurred to him earlier, or if it did, but he didn’t articulate it to himself in those terms…or if he just was in denial…or if he had considered it but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it until then…or whether there’s some significant difference between “love” and “IN love” in this particular scenario…or some combination of any of these. 

The evidence in the show is that Will clearly understands Hannibal’s fascination with him as love in 209, “Shiizakana,” with his dream about tying Hannibal to the tree and tightening the rope around him until he bursts. 

No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.

I think that’s in some contradiction to Hugh saying,

He’s never thought of Hannibal as being capable of love. ‘Cause like most of us he probably had love put off on a kind of pedestal, as an idea, a more perfect thing, as he made the awful realization ‘Oh crap, maybe this thing I’m feeling is like love’. It’s so dirty and awful and… you know… I don’t know. I’m basically making this up on the spot, but that would be my answer for why he might not have arrived at or realized that thought. Because look at Hannibal and you could be like… nice suits, great kitchen, great conversations, nice hair, you know, but you wouldn’t go anything like… ‘Wow, what a loving guy’. (x)

and

I think Will has probably in some way never conceived the possibility that Hannibal could be in love. I mean he’s got such a black heart. The awareness that they have this connection is something that Will knows and is probably in some way profoundly ashamed of, and is also, you know, he keeps coming back to and actually… kinda…. fills him with joy, as well. But I don’t think he’d ever give it the name love, ‘cause I don’t think he’d ever associate love with Hannibal. (x)

Hugh’s statements are not really carving out a semantic difference between “love’ and “in love.” Maybe Hugh is just overstating things with “I don’t think he’d ever associate love with Hannibal,” but as others have pointed out (ETA: found it here!), Will was able to conceive of love as something twisted and dark all the way back in the very first episode, with Hobbs’s love for Abigail, and by association, with all the other girls he killed. Will is able to grasp the concept.

My take on it has always been, and continues to be, that Will understood on some level–though he perhaps did not allow himself to fully grapple with the concept to the point of “in love”–that Hannibal loved him at least as far back as “Shiizakana.” He clearly felt toyed with at the end of “Savoureux” (”You were just curious” and “Wind him up and watch him go”), and it took him some calming down and listening to the way Hannibal spoke to him afterwards to get to that point, plus the experience of watching Hannibal shed the Chesapeake Ripper for the sake of getting him out of jail. But past that point, it’s mentioned so often, both directly and indirectly, that he can’t be just unaware.

I can accept that Will could talk himself into and out of the idea repetitively over the next four years given that Will could talk himself into and out of anything. Avoidance, denial, resentment, jealousy, heteronormativity, and fear could all play a part in that.So I don’t think that Hugh’s comments should be dismissed in terms of the sentiment or the psychology, even if it’s hard for his words to work perfectly literally. Will follows a similar pattern in “Primavera” when he talks himself into and out of accepting Hannibal’s love in the offering of his broken heart: 

He left us his broken heart.

How did he know we were here?

He didn’t. But he knew we would come.

He misses us.

Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any. One of the trains is always for his own amusement.

He’s playing with us.

Always. Still want to go with him?

Yes.

Hannibal may be able to follow several trains of thought without distraction from any, but Will is distracted by all those trains of Hannibal’s thought, and it works him over a good deal. 

One thing that EVERYONE agrees on in this discussion is that Hannibal is a dick, and that surely affects Will’s feelings about it all. XD

And finally, this. 

[lillotte17]

Prompt: Fenris as a toddler

I choose to believe this was also a drawing prompt. >_>

Uthvir belongs to @feynites

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the first word Fenris manages to master is no.

This is followed in quick succession by other such gems; stop, don’t, and down, to name a few. While his progress may still be slower than he would like, he can at least understand most of what people are saying to him, even if he cannot actually get his mouth to form the proper words to reply without butchering them horribly. He might not be winning any awards for poetry any time in the near future, but Fenris can at least take some satisfaction in finally being able to articulate something.

“Ah-lee,” he grumbles out one day while they are getting ready to go on a picnic in one of the little gardens outside of June’s tower, and she is fussing with the buttoning of his little cardigan. She has him perched up on the dresser in her bedroom, which, even after all these months of habitation, is still only sparsely furnished. She sighs at his discontent and pauses long enough to tussle his hair. He scowls in retaliation, pushing her hand away, but she only laughs.

“You’re my baby,” she says with a thin, curling smile, “And babies don’t call their mothers by their name, you know. You say Mamae.”

“Ah-lee,” Fenris insists.

“I know you’ve heard Nanae call me that, but…” she tries.

“Oot-veer,” Fenris counters mulishly.

“Fine,” Aili huffs, giving up the ghost in favor of making another try at the tiny stubborn buttons on her son’s sweater, “Have it your way, you tenacious little creature.”

Fenris pats at her hand consolingly. He is still coming to terms with the unpleasant realization that his body now projects his emotions, and finds that he is not quite able to conceal the hint of pleasure at his victory. Unbidden, the corner of his mouth twitches upwards.

“Is that a smile I see?” Aili beams at him, leaning in perilously close to kissing range.

“No,” Fenris asserts, hastily reforming his features into a frown.

“I think it is,” Aili singsongs with an expression of insufferable triumph, creeping her hands forward and tickling him lightly beneath his chin.

Fenris wriggles, trying to escape, and makes a wholly undignified sound. That is…not entirely born of displeasure. Some strange mix of a shriek and a giggle. Aili relents quickly enough, as she always does, and while he is still caught up in being mortified over the discovery of this new weakness, he looks down and sees that his thrashing has knocked a few of her personal items onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he says, with just the slightest hint of a lisp, pointing down at the displaced objects so she will know what he is apologizing for. And that, he realizes, is a word he seems to be using frequently as well. Because he is sorry, even if some part of him knows that his reactions are not entirely his fault. He is sorry to be here. Sorry that he cannot adjust to things as quickly as he would wish. Sorry to be a burden on what seems to be a generally nice group of people who are trying to include him in their family. Not that he ever seems to be held accountable for his transgressions.

This time is no different, as his adopted mother simply lifts him from the dresser and sets him carefully down on her bed. She smiles at him and smooths his hair down a little before turning around and picking up the things he had knocked to the floor. He thinks the air around her is a little sad, though. If he is reading that correctly. He generally tries not to, as it feels strangely invasive, but he supposes it is a skill he will need to acquire in order to thrive in this strange place.

“No harm done,” Aili assures him in a gentle tone, coming back over to sit next to him with what seems to be some sort of headband in her hand, “It was just an accident. Mama is sorry, too. I know you don’t like to be tickled very much.”

“S’okay,” he returns, slightly uncomfortable at this shift in tone. He reaches over and pats her arm reassuringly once or twice. Touching people to console them is another uncharted territory for him, but it always seems to work wonders with his primary caregivers, Aili especially, so he does his best to at least make an effort.

“You’re my good, sweet baby,” she continues, “And I love you very much. Even when you get upset. Mama and Nanae would never hurt you, even if things get broken sometimes.”

Fenris swallows thickly. Something suspiciously like embarrassment prickles up the back of his neck. Possibly tinged with a softer inclination as well. He shifts his weight a little, glancing about for a quick change of topic.

“Pretty,” he declares, gesturing at the object still in Aili’s hand without even really looking at it.

“You like it?” she wonders, holding it out for him to inspect, “Nanae got it for me. They said it was some sort of belated housewarming gift. I told them it was silly, since we both moved in at the same time, and they could hardly get me a better gift than you, but… Well. They’re always doing things like that. Giving things to people. It makes them happy.”

Fenris looks over the thin circlet with a critical eye. It is a somewhat simple design, some swirling organic pattern carved into a pale blonde wood very similar to Aili’s hair. It is sturdy though, and the craftsmanship is obviously very good, from what little he knows of such things. There is no way this was something Uthvir just bought off a shelf in a moment of random generosity. Clearly it is meant to be something…more. It’s no wonder she seems pleased with it.

And yet he’s almost certain he’s never seen Aili actually wearing it. He doubts that she will have thought of the significance of that. But he is certain Uthvir has.

Fenris huffs.

These two.

“You. On,” he demands, extending it back towards her in one pudgy fist. If he is going to be cooed over, he might as well do something useful with it.

“It’s awfully dressy for a picnic,” she smiles, taking it back from him.

“Pretty,” Fenris insists. Aili laughs.

“Alright,” she concedes, “If you think we should have a fancy day out, then I’ll wear it.”

It takes her a little while to get it just right. She pulls her hair free of its usual ponytail, braids part of it back out of her face, and then settles the circlet onto her head. The piece is open at the front, the twining pieces lifting up just slightly, like a set of horns, and framing the bronze markings on her forehead just so. The overall effect seems to be one of softness, with just a hint of some wild, fey creature.

It suits her.

“Pretty,” Fenris commends.

“Thank you, baby,” Aili grins, leaning over and placing a tiny flower pin in his hair, “Now we’re both fancy.”

Fenris sighs in reluctant acceptance, supposing that he more or less asked for that. Aili seems nearly buoyant when she gathers him up in her arms and grabs their basket of supplies as they head out the door, though. So, he figures it is probably worth it.

Uthvir is taking care of some of their duties for the General, but had promised to meet them for their lunch out on the grass as soon as they were done. Fenris does not like being taken out into the city very much, as none of the elves seem to be able to contain themselves in his presence. If he was physically capable, he is certain that he would have broken some of their fingers by now.

But he can also concede, that he would probably lose his mind if he only saw the inside of their rooms until he was big enough to get around on his own again.

Luckily, his parents are sensitive to his needs and, he suspects, neither of them are all that comfortable with being swarmed by an adoring mob themselves. So, the garden they end up in is relatively small, and almost entirely abandoned. Fenris is not sure why. There are quite a few very ugly statues in it, so perhaps it offends some of the other elves of Arlathan’s delicate sensibilities, or some other such ridiculous thing. He’s not about to complain.

Aili sets up the blanket and sets Fenris up with his bottle. She does not eat herself, possibly waiting for their missing family member to arrive. And, since nothing else of import is likely to happen until they get here, he decides that he should practice his other new trick.

Fenris is finally getting the hang of walking again.

There is a lot of falling down involved in the process thus far, but he can almost make it half way across the sitting room by himself now, so long as he can grab onto passing furniture. Aili hovers, naturally, offering guiding hands, but not so much that he feels smothered. And for that he is grateful. Even to the point where he generally allows her to kiss him when he bumps into something.

He is two thirds of the way through his third assisted crossing of the blanket, with only four falls, when a large hawk descends from the sky and lands in front of him.

Fenris is so shocked, that he sits down rather suddenly on the blanket with a soft oof.

“Uthvir,” Aili chides, “What have I said about divebombing people?”

“I am sorry,” the hawk apologizes with Uthvir’s voice, “I have not eaten since very early this morning and it took me longer than expected to find you.”

“What about Fenris?” Aili asks, real concern seeping into her tone, “He’s still getting used to the idea that magic isn’t bad, you know. What if you frightened him?”

At this, they both turn their full attention back to him and simultaneously realize that not only does their son not seem to be scared, but he has pulled himself onto his hands and knees and crawled his way over to them.

Fenris stretches out his little hand, waiting. And after a moment of confusion, Uthvir leans their head forward, allowing themselves to patted gently. Tiny fingers moving in very careful strokes over sleek brown feathers.

Fenris does not know what it means. Or if it means anything. But it almost seems like too much to be a coincidence. To be flung through time and space and somehow find himself in the care of yet another hawk.

He does not know what to make of it.

“Hok,” he burbles out after a few minutes, and it is only then that he realizes that at some point he has started crying. Not like his usual outbursts of rage or frustration, but fat silent tears of nothing more than grief. “Hok.”

“What is a hok?” Uthvir asks Aili, sounding vaguely horrified, frozen stiff in uncertainty.

“I don’t know, but change back, quick,” Aili instructs, scooping Fenris up into her arms and cooing at him to distract him while Uthvir shifts back into their normal shape.

“All done,” they inform her a moment later.

“There, see?” Aili asks, turning back around and passing Fenris into their arms, “It’s just Nanae. Nanae isn’t scary, are they?”

Fenris sniffs, in reluctant agreement, feeling a bit foolish as he begins to calm back down.

“I am sorry to have scared you, little one,” Uthvir adds for good measure. Fenris pats their chest as a sign of forgiveness, and a bid to be set down again.

“Crisis averted,” Aili grins at them, handing them a meat pie from out of the basket as Uthvir settles Fenris back onto the blanket.

“But only just,” they sigh. They stare at her for half a minute, the food half way to their mouth as something seems to dawn on them. “You… You are wearing the gift I got you.”

“Oh,” she exclaims, as if only just now remembering herself, her cheeks flushing slightly, “Well. I mean, I know it is really too nice for this sort of thing, but Fenris insisted that we dress for the occasion.”

“Pretty,” Fenris notes, giving Uthvir a rather pointed stare.

“I agree,” Uthvir replies, a large smile spreading out across their face, “You look very nice.”

“I have your excellent taste to thank for that, I’m sure,” Aili laughs, sounding a little embarrassed and twisting her fingers in her hair.

“We should go visit the artist who made it sometime,” they continue, “You would like him, I think. They have a son not too much older than Fenris, and he seemed eager to see how the piece would look on you.”

“You mean, you actually had this commissioned for me?” Aili gapes.

“Well…of course I did,” Uthvir says, sounding uncertain again.

“I’ll…make sure I get you something, too,” she fumbles, “For a housewarming present, I mean. It… It might take me awhile, but-”

“You don’t have to do that,” Uthvir insists.

“Kisses!” Fenris suggests loudly. He had honestly never thought that anyone could possibly top Aveline and her copper marigolds when it came to romantic awkwardness, but dammit all if these two weren’t making his old friend seem suave by comparison. It is almost painful to watch.

Aili leans over and obligingly kisses him on the cheek and he groans.

“No.” ​

[souichipresents]

Lotsa Ito/blog thoughts...

I’ve just read through your reviews, and I’m grateful for the insight, humor, and exposure to Ito’s work you’ve provided, and I’ve been able to articulate some of my own opinions now.

1. Tomie. I never really had any appreciation for the stories before, and I still find it odd how…episodic the stories are. Surely the world should be overrun by now, but the tales never really amount to anything. However, the abuse metaphor gives me a newfound interest in the series. One thing I picked up on is the “methods” side of it; namely that old adage. Violence is not the answer. Killing Tomie just makes the problem worse (she heals and replicates), but so does passivity (she still replicates). Leaving her alone allows the problem to grow naturally just as allowing an abusive situation to continue gives the abuser more power, so there’s really two “wrong ways to deal with abuse/Tomie” presented. 

2. I know you haven’t gotten to her yet, but I wanted to share my thoughts on Fuchi. What I like about her (besides the fact that she’s a monster-woman) is that she’s very humanlike. She’s off-human in appearance, and her behavior is human, if not unpleasant. She’s got some sense of humor, and she enjoys nature. She’s just very petty and jealous. The danger with her comes not from her morality, but from her means of solving problems. She’s not outright evil, but she’s easy to piss off and that’s the end of you, even in a dream universe. I think that’s an interesting idea for a monster, and I’d sorta like to see what her life is like in the modeling business. Also, why does her height fluctuate. Souichi (in Rumors, not the dream stories) sees her as about ten to eleven feet, but Fashion Model has her at about 7 or 8?

3. Uzumaki is amazing and thank you for finally getting me to take a look. I love the symbolism of the spiral, a constantly moving force that moves out and draws in, and the protagonists are nice. Also, Azami’s transformation is probably the scariest Ito thing I’ve seen. It’s not gory, just supremely unsettling, and deterioration is scarier to me than anything else. I’d like to see a more faithful new adaptation of the story. 

4. You’ve also helped me figure out what I don’t like of Ito’s work. Hellstar Remina just feels very…underwhelming to me, and a couple of the one-shots are not that great.

5. Are you going to look at the tales of the Bizarre Hizikuri Siblings? It’s something I found genuinely difficult to read due to all of the beyond-dysfunctional cruelty, and I know that’s not your thing. 

4. Less importantly, when did you switch romanizations to include the “u” in “Souichi?”

Thank you for this blog- I was looking for something just like this, and I’m glad you delivered.

Ahhh gosh, this is a real sweet message! I appreciate that this blog picked up your interest. <3 I also apoloize that the update schedule has become so shaky, but things go how they go. And I still plan to keep this up as long as I am able! 

A well thought out submission certainly deserves answers. 

1- I’ve actually been thinking about this! And I come to think, well, what if we imagine that every Tomie story isn’t being told to us in a chronological order? Instead, maybe everything after the ‘origin’ story, each chapter like that, is happening at the same time? So while she torments the photographer here, she’s also in the snowy mountains there… that could certainly make an interesting narrative. Mind, it’s also totally spoiled by the events i the last story, but…. woof. We’ll get to that one. 

And I do agree. There’s no solution to Tomie, in some ways I think, because the problem was never her. She is not the greatest evil; rather the teacher who originally abused her; he is the nexus of this. What it means that her ‘pattern’ seems to re-create him over and over….? It’s hard to say. But there’s a melancholy tint to it all somewhere. 

2. Ahhh, Fuchi! The beautiful model~ Truth be told, I’m rather fond of her, because she just… shows up sometimes, without any real rhyme or reason. To me, she feels the most like… yes she’s certainly going by some other set of rules then ours, doesn’t she~? As for her height… I honestly figure it’s because Souichi’s a kid. To him, she might as well be 30 feet tall. Or maybe she’s as tall as she wants to be. 

3. Ahhhh, I’m so glad that you gave it a look! Uzumaki will always and forever be a classic to me… there’s so much nuance, so much variation. Seeing the threads of apparently disparate unnatural events wound slowly together… gorgeous, just gorgeous. I think to me after all this time, the ‘ridiculousness’ of the horror, coupled with the genuinely TRAGIC nature of it’s effects… just lovely. 

I always think it could make a really gorgeous anime. Especially one with experimental animation… it could happen, right? There’s a new sailor moon after all… 

4. Yep- sometime’s he’s hit or miss. It’s interesting because it’s not like it’s as simple as ‘oh when there’s unlikable characters’. Nobody in, say, all time favorite ‘Secondhand Record’ is LIKABLE. 

I think the difference is when his usual sense of…sympathy, I think. Even when the characters aren’t nice people, a lot of time, you can feel that sense. Its not the same as kindness, and it’s not ‘empathy’. It’s just a sense of caring. 

I think ‘Dying Young’ might have the strongest of that sense, as well as Uzumaki. The narrative is sunk deep into what matters to these characters, and whats happening to them. It’s harder to be scared if you don’t care. 

5. You nailed it right on the head- as creative as they are, they’re also really the kind of Itou story I can’t stomach. I’ll likely just give a general overview of them as a series. 

4. There’s a gap in the time I was making these! I did I think a few when I first had this idea… and then a year, year and a half later, I had decided I needed a way to force myself to keep writing, and came back to this blog! I think it’s sometime in there I noticed that most people translated it as ‘Souichi’. I switched over because it seemed widely accepted, and reads out easier in english to me. I seem to drift wildly between ‘Ito’ and ‘Itou’, however.