#get analyzed idiot

[autism-connoisseur]

what's your take on karkat now that you know his big secret?

genuinely amazing how his whole personality is a defense mechanism.... this guy cares he cares so much but his whole life hes had to push people away lest they Find Out.... living in constant alert ever since he had consciousness of how Different he was and how dangerous that was for him, knowing that everyone around him would cull him on the spot if they found out about It.... if im not mistaken trolls' tears are the color of their blood so he also had to repress himself to Not Cry. and for a person as emotional as karkat thats such a challenge!! not even out of sadness, or grief, but people also cry out of happiness, nostalgia, frustration, anger... those two especially i can see happening to karkat. and hed hate it.

he can be so Mean sometimes, perpetually angry... sure, it might be part of his personality, he is definitely easily irritated and prone to heat-of-the-moment decisions (like when he ran sollux's code and promptly exploded his computer and cast a curse on himself & his friends) but like i said, he's lived his entire life having to be Alert, not being able to let his guard down, because he would die if he did!! and at the same time he needs to prove himself, prove that despite being Wrong and Different he can do things!! he can be useful!!! maybe if he makes himself useful enough someone will even see him as a person and not just a mutant... thats why he is so dead set on being the leader. much like dave he has lived his whole life Needing To Be In Control Of Things (rose too, but shes more like she needs to Understand People, if she can read people correctly then she can avoid them flipping on her (no she cant that is not how it works babe)), but whereas dave is content with letting june be the leader (even if he wants to surpass her, hes very much doing his own thing anyways) karkat NEEDS to be the leader because that way he will prove that hes capable (to his friends in particular but to society as a whole, they are basically a mini representation of society anyways with each of them representing each caste).

but also he blames himself, he blames himself so much whenever anything goes slightly wrong and that feeling just gets amplified since he ran sollux's virus. it's a vicious circle for him since he needs to be in control and call the shots to feel like hes useful (defense mechanism, you wouldn't get rid of an useful pest even if he was a pest now would you?), but whenever something goes wrong under his command he freaks out (maybe relating it to his blood color? like he is Bad so this happened. also we know he takes sollux's virus's curse very seriously), he takes it as proof that He Personally Is Wrong and obviously everyone knows this, but since he doesnt want to be seen as that and he wants society to accept him without ever realizing there was a reason they shouldnt (see: also why he wanted to join the military or some part of it at the very least) he doubles on his efforts on Controlling everything.

and when he realizes they created our universe, it finally gives him a chance to be above someone. to be the powerful and not the powerless, the respected and not the shunned. its why he treats the beta kids as stupid, inferior beings, and why he constantly points out that he is their god even though he isnt (well he technically is but you get it). it mimicks the way some highbloods treat lowbloods, but where the highbloods are like that because society told them it's their natural right that they were born with, karkat does it to forget what that same society told him: that he was somehow intrinsically worse than anyone else. so bad, in fact, that he'd be better of dead. actually, he'd be so better off dead that they want him dead, that they will kill him as soon as they find him. so of course he takes the chance to not feel like that! of course he wants to feel superior! he needs to be the one above for once, he needs that control over someone instead of feeling like he needs to watch out for everything and anything. he sees a chance to not be the lowest link in the chain, and he takes it. sure, he may be a mutant, but theyre human... and not just any humans. the very same humans that doomed their session, the session karkat threw himself into because not only did it grant him escape from a planet that hated his existence (as much as he also idealized, trying to fit in, trying to not be seen as Abnormal even though all the beta trolls are Abnormal & don't fit in), it also gave him the chance to, like i said, prove himself.

he trusts his friends, he does, and he said he'd tell them his blood color eventually. but he needed to be ready and that's why both jack noir & terezi, or at least their reactions, are so important to him. neither of them shuns him, they don't attack him, they don't make fun of him of call him aberrant or do anything that most trolls would. fair, jack noir isn't a troll, and he doesn't even understand why karkat is freaking out. but when he shows him his own blood, the same color, karkat is suddenly not alone. even if red blood doesn't mean anything special to jack, to karkat it means the world to see that he is not some abomination, that the universe didn't signal him out to be different than the rest forever and always. and terezi, terezi is what really does it for him. shes somewhat high in the hemospectrum, she is someone that karkat likes (and apparently kissed! good for him because God knows the kid didn't let anyone in out of fear of being found out), she is a troll. and she doesn't mind. she even calls him adorable in the same log! the beta trolls are outcasts of the alternian society; and they are karkat's friends. that's why he was willing to tell them eventually: it was his secret to keep and his secret to share. and even if terezi found out when he wasn't ready yet, her reaction was absolutely positive. again, these kids are the furthest away from troll society as they can be, almost its opposite, which is why karkat thought about telling them, is willing to tell them. he knows hes safe with them.

ive seen people point out how his handle (carcinoGeneticist) references his sign (carcinogenesis is the process by which an organism gains cancer) and both these things represent how hes considered an anomaly & something to be rid of, something sick; i also think it's. ironic that he's the knight of blood, but i don't know enough about classpects yet to analyze that. it must have felt like a cruel joke to him, though, being told that his literal title was someone who fights for the same thing he's ostracized for. it would certainly piss me off that's for sure.

[doomedlemur]

Thoughts on the character motivations of secret relationships in AU fanfics...

I've been reading a lot of fanfiction, a lot of AU fanfiction, and something I've seen a few times now is Aziraphale wanting to keep his relationship with Crowley secret because it could potentially jeopardize his career if people knew. (Usually he's in the closet, but maybe there's something about Crowley specifically that makes it scandalous (or both).) This invariably leads to angst until Aziraphale decides to come out after all, and then they live out and proud together, happily ever after. Which, great! But—

I've just realized why this trope kind of bothers me: It isn't true to Aziraphale's character.

Because wanting to stay in heaven's good books isn't his primary motivation for keeping his friendship with Crowley a secret. I mean sure, obviously he doesn't want them to know, but his bigger worry has always been for Crowley and his safety. What if his side found out?

Look at him in the Globe scene, looking at Crowley with such fear: "If Hell finds out...they'll destroy you."

That the secrecy is all just to keep his own public persona clean? No, it doesn't fit.

I have my quibbles with Shotgun Wedding, but this is something it got right, that the relationship is a danger to both their careers, and more to Crowley's than Aziraphale's.

Tangentially, another fic I was reading got me thinking about Crowley's role in this setup. Usually there's strife due to Crowley not being okay with being Aziraphale's dirty secret (which tbf is a legit understandable stance, and a great catalyst for Aziraphale's journey to self-acceptance), but in this one, while Aziraphale had the thing thinking that being with Crowley would ruin his career, Crowley's role was subverted. Instead of Crowley stepping away, Aziraphale pushed him away, assuming Crowley wouldn't want to be his secret, that it wouldn't be fair to him. Until eventually, Crowley snaps, calls him an idiot, and that he doesn't care if Aziraphale is in the closet or not! That he's okay with being Aziraphale's secret. (I hesitate to name the fic because this is a spoiler for the climactic revelations in it, but it is on my fanfic master rec list and if you like I'll tell you in DM.)

That blew my mind. It was so opposite to the other characterizations and yet felt so right for Crowley. He never cared that he had to see Aziraphale on the DL, so long as he got to see him, and he wouldn't dream of trying to make Aziraphale compromise his standing for his sake. "I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"

Anyway, all this to say that while I understand the plot setup and why it's used, looking past the surface level, it doesn't actually fit for either of these characters.

[utnewfoundfamily]

Is this version of Asriel into video games like his Deltarune counterpart seems to be? And, now that he's got his SOUL back, has he tried his hand (or I guess paw) at romance? Or is he aroace like some people in our universe speculate?

Of course he’s into video games! It’s a great past time, but he does have other priorities to focus on. So gaming is at a minimum for Asriel, sadly. And on that note of his SOUL, the romance scene has never crossed his mind. I don’t think it’s for any other reason other than it’s just not what he wants or seeks. Rather than that, I think what he seeks is relationships that are more on the platonic side.

For example, the relationship Asriel has with Frisk. This one being built both before and after he had his own SOUL. Here’s the fun part though. There’s a type of action that takes place with SOULs and that’s called a “SOUL Dance.” Where two or more SOULs will dance and swirl together in harmony. Mind you, this is an action that is natural and not forced upon. The main component of this starts off by having a soul, obviously, yet the other is by having a strong bond with another person or persons that are mutual to one another. All bonds can be an array of things so not one person is excluded.

To monsters it’s a common thing, but to see it with a human is very fascinating. And colorful! The sensation is like being given a warm blanket or feeling a warming loving embrace. And the looks are what I’ve described previously. SOULs swirling & dancing around in harmony. Asriel has experienced this and it’s the best. Cause even if Frisk or any other person he’s danced with are gone, the feelings are still strong as if they were here with them. Here’s an example of how it looks like for Frisk an Azzy!:

Admittedly, his bond is a lot stronger with Frisk’s cause they did give a piece of themselves to him. So he may or may not be emotional about it. It’s a good emotional though. Does involve a little tears, but to feel is good. Makes you alive. And what is said here for Asriel could be repeated with Chara and Aster. What with sharing a piece of their SOUL and whatnot!

[unhelpfulfemme]

'But I have a plan to present you, between now and your wedding, with seven hounds with chains of silver and a golden apple between them — do I ever get them to you alive — so that when you race through the woods and fell your deer and see him undone and brittled there, you will bethink you of O'LiamRoe.' The words were wry, but the tone, with whatever effort, was one of lightest amusement. Her mood opened to him suddenly, the white brow patterned with fine, dry lines which had not been there before, and her eyes searching his. 'I have had dogs enough, O'LiamRoe; and lovers enough.' 'You have no friends,' he said, 'man or dog. I had thought to be a small bit of both.'

Queen's Play by Dorothy Dunnett

ROMANCE IS NOT DEAD (or at least it wasn't in the 16th century)

[blackstaff-blast]

It's happening. The first chapter of my Loghain/Inquisitor multichapter fic. I have so much to say about them ok.

Oh there will be fluff alright.

For registered users only, for now! We'll see where it goes :)

[mainfaggot]

guys i think I found something that makes me want to kill myself LESS oh my god

[caterpillarinacave]

I'm suspicious of people who don't like Thomastair. Like why do you hate hope, man, why do you hate joy

Fr, fr, why do you hate happiness. Are you so afraid you’ll never experience that happiness. Are you so afraid you’ll be swept away by a wave while looking for a conch shell of happiness that you won’t go to the beach? Are you so afraid you’ll never feel see that elusive sparkle of love peaking out from behind a cloud that you shake your fist at the suns rays and run for the closure of your bitterness when the sky starts to darken?

[noritaro]

I wanna start reading books again

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

organizing BB notes to prep for this drafting session and I CANNOT wait for the dialogue where jeremiah's talking to harrison and goes "what's wrong with you???"

[autism-connoisseur]

oh thats. thats vriska trying to evoke some kind of anger in aradia. thats vriska trying to get her friend back. thats vriska wishing aradia would get angry because thats what started this whole thing in the first place, the revenge after revenge after revenge and now it doesnt even feel like its her and at the same time aradia not getting angry and plotting revenge means she stopped the cycle which vriska claimed she would do and then didnt....... and also vriska is being the Emotional one here which is Weird!!! hhhh going crazy a little

[hirokiyuu]

thinking abt seichan after that post and honestly. while i do want to throttle him. most of the time he does just make me incredibly sad like......... bro............ you fucked up everything so fucking bad you couldve been genuinely and deeply happy w/someone who loves you for like years nad years and instead. instead. instead. instead. instead.

[one-true-houselight]

Me, hugging my cats: I promise not to give you to an ATM machine

[iovealexivs]

that was a pretty decent last episode.

the ones before it were just so hhhh

[cerisereids]

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader

w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)

summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.

warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope

a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.

hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.

you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.

it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.

after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.

“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.

your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?

“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.

“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.

“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.

“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.

you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.

j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.

if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.

you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.

“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.

“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.

his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.

“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.

“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”

you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”

you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.

paperwork it is.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.

you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.

“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.

you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.

you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.

“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.

“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.

your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.

“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.

“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”

“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.

“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.

you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.

“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.

“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”

you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”

just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.

“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.

“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”

before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.

as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,

“she brought penelope?”

had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.

“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.

“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.

you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.

“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.

“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”

time stops.

“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.

“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”

your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.

he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.

you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.

you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?

“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”

your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.

“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.

“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.

“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.

his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.

“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.

as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.

“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.

“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.

it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.

spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.

“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.

the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.

“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.

“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.

“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.

[kitsuneoftheorganization]

i would like to hear all your thoughts about ai hrgfkfjdk he is such the character ever. his whole character arc and that last duel with yusaku absolutely devastated me :')

HHHHJAKSKSJSK okay number one I absolutely love characters who at first seem not so bright, but are way smarter than they appear, yet at the same time are still dorks. and he is the embodiment of that. I love his goofiness. The fact that he annoys the hell out of Yusaku and tries to get reactions out of him is hilarious.

overall he doesn't feel, imo, like a character, his personality and their interactions feel very real, and this is actually something in general I like about vrains and the characters and their interactions

what really hit me hard though was him trying to play the part of a villain at the end and trying to hide his real reasons, even though you could see the fact that he really does care a lot for everyone. Man has the villain fashion down tho 👏

as for his human form, paired with his personality he had me like WOOF WOOF 🐕

it was on a more serious note so interesting to see how he pictures himself as a human, his body language, etc, and the fact that he's still just as much of a dork (excluding, y'know, the trauma of losing his family he's dealing with, poor guy :[ ) but just imagining being there as a human and seeing this ai have feelings and free will and depth and be so human would be crazy to witness much less befriend him and have a bond with him like Yusaku, it reminds me of DBH where Hank sees the development of Connor and they become so attached to each other

but then the final duel absolutely destroyed me, him getting nostalgic but still trying to be jokey about it and pretend he doesn't care, then finally giving up the act and telling Yusaku that in every simulation he sacrificed himself to keep Ai alive, and seeing how devastated Ai was, was devastating. him asking if he was a good partner had me CRYING

i'd love to see just everything turning out great, yusaku finding him, him getting a body back, just living domestically with yusaku and all his friends and seeing how he would navigate the world. I want to think the other ignis are somewhere out there as well and that somehow possibly they could be brought back and coexist :) yes I'm being hopeful but poor Ai being the last ignis, realizing that other AI programs just weren't able to be the same as the ignis are, the weight of being literally the last thing like yourself and knowing a good amount of humans are distrustful of you is a lot to shoulder

I could go on and on but in general he's just the most lil creacher ever and I wanna squeeze his cheeks. im so happy he survived but he rlly needs a hug

[lovebugism]

could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3

hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie can’t stop staring at you.

It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.

It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.

You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.

He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.

The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.

He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.

He doesn’t know how he got you. 

But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.

The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.

Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.

“I can feel you staring, you know?” 

Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.

Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.

You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.

“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.

The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.

“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”

Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.

Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.

“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”

“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.

“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”

You know he’s lying.

And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 

You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.

Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.

“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”

“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.

He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.

He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.

“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”

Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”

You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”

He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  

And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.

“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.

“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”

He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”

“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”

“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”

The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.

Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.

“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.

Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.

A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.

“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.

He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.

“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”

He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.

He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.

He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.

“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.

“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”

The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”

“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”

“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.

“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”

“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”

A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.

You meet it with a grin of your own. 

“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.

His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.

“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”