the second hand emotions

MBTI Stereotypes VS the Types in Real Life

Stereotype ENTJ: Dominant. Efficient. Strategic and ideal leaders.

Real ENTJ: One of the few people able to actually physically frown, don’t understand how they’re “scary”

Stereotype INTJ: Evil masterminds. Smarter than you. Are the superior beings.

Real INTJ: Misplaces anything that isn’t physically attached to them, no longer able to recognize when they’re being sarcastic or serious

Stereotype ENTP: Quickest thinkers you’ll ever meet. Witty. Intellectual masters of debate.

Real ENTP: Used memes so much that they became one and are accepting of this fact, catchphrase is some version of “Well, actually–”

Stereotype INTP: In possession of more knowledge than the Internet. Reclusive geniuses. Know all, are humble.

Real INTP: Sexually attracted to science, volunteer plethora of useless facts every hour, zero spatial and social awareness

Stereotype ENFJ: Kind. Loving. Hearts of gold and wills of steel.

Real ENFJ: Will replace your mother and be okay with that, judge being judgemental of judging judgemental judgments

Stereotype INFJ: Mysterious and tricky to get to know. More unique than anyone you’ve ever met.

Real INFJ: One way or another, embarrass themselves every single day, somehow, consistently

Stereotype ENFP: Full of life and love. Passionate lover. Always fighting for a cause.

Real ENFP: Blink abnormally fast and probably should not drink coffee ever, have to make conscious effort to not smile, should take more things more seriously

Stereotype INFP: Gifted with emotional intelligence. Spiritual and believes in the soul, the natural course of the world, and love.

Real INFP: Really good at laughing at themselves which is necessary because they f*ck up constantly

Stereotype ESTJ: Intelligent. Dependable. Productive and competent. Forward-thinkers.

Real ESTJ: Remind teachers about homework distribution and collection every single day of the week, get off on educational videos

Stereotype ISTJ: Rule-followers. Responsible. Duty drives their perfection.

Real ISTJ: Sometimes sleep over 12 cumulative hours in a day

Stereotype ESTP: Daredevil. Live life on the edge. Famous and popular.

Real ESTP: 100% of decision-making is weighing the pros, ignoring the cons, and shrugging, then doing whatever stupid thing they got dared to do

Stereotype ISTP: Cool as hell. Detached and indifferent. Smart tinkerers.

Real ISTP: Won “Most Stubborn and Silent” for Senior Superlative page in high school yearbook

Stereotype ESFJ: Genuine and affectionate. Would take care of a sick stranger if needed. Make friends everywhere they go.

Real ESFJ: Value self-worth based on quality of and feedback for homemade baked goods, the holiday season is their life source

Stereotype ISFJ: Sweet. Innocent. Fragile and caring hearts who love their friends.

Real ISFJ: Hate conflict so much that they get second-hand anxiety from watching cliché emotional plot twist movies

Stereotype ESFP: Epitome of style and fashion. Impossibly cool. At every party and loved by everyone.

Real ESFP: Physically CANNOT stop making noises and fidgeting, all storage on their phones is taken up by hundreds of selfies in various poses

Stereotype ISFP: Exceptional artists. Emotionally deep. Humanitarians and always helping the planet.

Real ISFP: Just want to become trees, don’t get why people can’t just love one another, f*cking hippies


are u sure marco? his hands are all sweaty now


Deaf!Dean Drabble 3

Thanks to @wanderingcas for all the help with this one! *blows a kiss*

Dean’s been in a mood all week. It started when a pop-up ad showed up on Sam’s laptop for the new Star Wars trailer. Dean and Cas had talked about going to see it together. But that was five months ago. Before the accident.

Despite the fact that he said he was fine, Cas could see the way that Dean was getting more and more upset as the week went on.

First Dean forgot to text, and instead dialed with the phone to his ear before he remembered–he sent everyone in his contact list a very inappropriate word.

Later in the week, when he’d walked up behind Dean and startled him, he’d pulled a gun on Cas.

And, when Cas finally suggests they go out to eat with Eileen and Sam, Dean actually sits down in a chair and sulks.

They were all little things. But, Cas knows that they are also big things to Dean.

Cas sighs, sitting down next to his husband, trying to find the words to say, the things to do to fix this. He knows Dean is hurting. And, he knows he is asking a lot for him to go out in public. Because, even if Dean doesn’t admit it, he gets easily embarrassed.

Cas pulls over one of the many notebooks they keep the bunker stocked with.

We don’t have to go, he writes. I just wanted to suggest something to help.

He puts the pen down and reaches over to grab Dean’s hand, but is met with air when it’s pulled away. His hand freezes, hurt painting his expression.

Dean grabs the pen, and writes forcefully: Do whatever the hell you want.

He stands, knocking over a chair in the process but doesn’t bother to fix it as he walks to his room.

Cas follows, vaguely aware of the fact that Sam and Eileen are in pursuit. He stops in Dean’s doorway, only to find Dean throwing a led Zeppelin tape onto the bed with a crestfallen look, headphones tumbling off to the side.

Cas’s chest hurt. It always hurts when Dean forgets.

Cas can see Eileen staring at him from the corner of his eye. It’s not the first time Dean’s gotten upset like this. Cas and Sam don’t have the heart to say very much. Usually Eileen doesn’t either. But, the second Cas’s eyes connect with Eileen’s, he can tell she has a lot she wants to say right now.

Suddenly, Cas feels a small hand press against his chest, nudging him back into the hallway.

Ok, out, she signs to Cas. I need to talk to Dean alone.

Cas’s mouth falls open a little in protest, but he’s met with a door shut in his face. He stares at it, eyes wide, completely taken by surprise.

Now Cas stares at the door to Dean’s room wondering what they’re saying on the other side of it.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Cas asks Sam.

Sam shrugs. “Boys?” he says with a mischievous grin.

Cas bites back a smile, sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, waiting for the door to open. He fiddles with his wedding ring, thinking about the man he married, feeling his heart expand.

He wonders if Dean feels things have changed between them since the accident. He wonders if he’ll know how to help and be there for him now. And, sometimes, deep down and secretly, he has fears about losing Dean.

Cas twists his wedding ring harder, watching the skin on his finger pull a little with the friction.

I love you now. I love you forever—he recites the secret vows they said to each other on their wedding night since Dean didn’t want to say them in front of any of the other hunters that showed up to the ceremony.

I love you now. I love you forever, he thinks to the door.

Sam sits next to him, sending Cas a comforting look while they wait.

“It will be ok,” Sam says in sign language, comfortingly. Cas smiles at how much better Sam is at signing than Dean—His sweet, grumpy, beautiful, deaf husband who gets frustrated because he’s still in the re-learning stages of communication.

And Cas tries to mean it when he says “I know.”

The door opens and Eileen has a smug look on her face as Dean lets her shove his arms into a jacket.

“Let’s go,” she says to Sam and they walk to the car, Cas and Dean trailing after.

Before they go out to the garage, though, Dean grabs Cas’s hand, pulling him back to a stop, then kisses him lightly on the lips.

Cas furrows his eyebrows, grabbing a notebook and writes: What exactly did Eileen say to you?

Dean puts his hands in the air, then looks up at the ceiling as if trying to find the words to sign, then sighs, grabbing the notebook from Cas.

She called me an idiot, He writes. Said I needed to get my ass into gear and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Cas’s eyes widen in amusement before Dean starts writing again:

But then she told me you all loved me. Said it’s ok to be upset, but I shouldn’t stop living my life. And, Dean’s hands freeze for a second, a little emotion showing on his face before he finishes with: she reminded me of how lucky I am to have you.

Outside, the horn on the impala honks impatiently for Cas’s sake, but he ignores it.

Dean shuffles his foot against the floor sheepishly, before looking up again.

I am he writes, then pauses. I’m lucky to have you.

Cas smiles.

Me too, he signs to Dean, feeling relief flood through him.

They stare at each other until the horn goes off again, bringing Cas back to the present.

He leans forward and can see Eileen from the back seat of the impala, smiling in encouragement.

Cas tugs at Dean’s notebook, then writes: Want to go get some food?

Dean nods enthusiastically. Hell yeah, he writes. I’m starving.

* * *

If you want to read my other Deaf!dean fics, the masterlist is Here (x)

A New Friend

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader
Requested: Yes
Warnings: this revolves around Y/N having social anxiety, there’s a panic attack, and light cursing
A/N: I personally do not have social anxiety, so I’m basing this off of what I’ve read and heard from my friends. If I got this wrong I’m very sorry, but I hope you enjoy it!
Word count: 1642


“Hey, Bellamy, is that group back from the hunting trip yet?” You hear one of the delinquents ask. You already know the answer. No, they’re not. If they were, your best friend Alex would have already run up to you to tell you all about the adventures he had while venturing past the almost finished walls.

You’d been friends with him since you were both children on the ark. The two of you had been neighbors. It’s always been hard for you to talk to people and put yourself out there, but with Alex everything just seemed to naturally flow between the two of you. Alex was great at making conversation, but could also enjoy the silence you two shared when you just didn’t know what to say. He understood how hard it could be for you to talk sometimes. At one point your social inefficiency worried your parents so much they took you to see Dr. Griffin. She came to the conclusion you had social anxiety. She wanted to give you medication, but couldn’t due to the fact that it wasn’t a life threatening disease. You would just have to deal with it.

So that’s how your life proceeded on the Ark. You kept to yourself during the day at class, but when you got back to your room you finally came out of your shell around Alex. He was, and still is, your anchor. Everybody thought you were weird, treated you like an outcast really, because of how difficult it was to talk to them. You have no idea how you would have gotten through everything life has thrown at you without him. He’s been there for you through it all– your mom getting sick, you getting arrested after you tried to steal medicine for her, her dying, and he even got himself arrested so you wouldn’t be in the Sky Box by yourself.

Then it all seems to come crashing down around you, as you stop reminiscing. They weren’t back yet. They’d been gone since morning, and right now the sun was on the verge of setting. This wasn’t good. Something must have went wrong, but what? Did they get lost in unknown territory by accident? Did grounders attack them? Your mind was racing, heart beating so fast you thought it was going to burst out of your chest.

You leave your job of sorting food, walking toward the drop ship. Once you’re inside you find a corner, and proceed to let the panic attack you’re having consume you. Your back is pressed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest, and arms hugging yourself as tight as you can. Deep breaths in and out, you think. That’s what Alex would always tell you when you got like this. It was no use, everything seemed to be spiraling out of control in your head. Tears started to roll down your cheeks, oh god, what would you do without him? He’s been your only friend for years, the only person who knew that you could be loud, funny, and even sarcastic. There’s something, or someone, making noise but you can’t focus on it. You feel yourself floating, no longer having your anchor to tie you down. Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder.

Murphy’s voice wafts through the air into your
ears, “Are you okay?”

That was weird. Murphy never gave a shit how other people were feeling. He was always yelling at people to get back to work, no matter what injury or illness they had acquired. For a second you wonder if you should say yes, but then he’s going to make you go back to work and you can’t in the condition you’re in. You shake your head side to side signaling no.

“I’ve been trying to ask you what’s wrong,” he says, still crouching next to you, with a hand on your shoulder. He must have been standing there for awhile, that’s the murmurs you pushed to the back of your mind. You keep expecting him to raise his voice at you, or spew derogatory comments your way. He doesn’t. Instead his voice is gentle, fingers drawing light, calming patterns where his hand is.

“A-Alex,” is the only world you’re able to get out of your mouth. Your breathing is still erratic, it’s calmed down since Murphy has given you something to think about other than your dark thoughts.

“Oh, the dude you’re always with. He’s on the hunting trip, right?” The first sentence he says sounds, disappointed? That can’t be right, why would Murphy, of all people, be disappointed you were worrying about your best friend.

“T-they’ve b-been gone, for a really lo-long time,” you stutter through the sentence, tears slowly stop falling from your eyes.

“That’s what you’re freaking out about? Y/N sometimes hunting trips take longer than half a day. Besides, they’re probably on their way back now with a huge amount of game,” he lowers himself next to you. His arm makes its way around your shoulders, so he’s pulling you into his side.

“You think so?” You whisper, looking up at him.

“I know so. So, stop worrying about your boyfriend, everything’s going to be okay.” His hand tightened the tiniest bit when the word boyfriend left his lips.

“Alex isn’t my boyfriend,” you tell him, glancing at him with a confused expression across your face.

“Okay, then what do you two call what you’ve got going on? You’re always with each other, and you only talk to him. It’s obvious you two have something going on behind closed doors,” Murphy explains as his signature smirk crosses his lips. You nudge him lightly, in a joking manner, with your shoulder.

“He’s my best friend, and I talk to only him because I’m bad with people. I want to have more friends but, I can’t. I freeze up when I talk to people,” your voice gradually gets quiter as you speak. You’ve been wanting to tell people that for years. You want them to know you’re not judgemental, just scared.

“Well, you’re talking to me. Actually, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard your voice. Ya know, for awhile I thought you were just a bitch that thought she was too good to talk to us.”


“Yeah, it’s because you were raised on alpha station. Your dad was a doctor, and your mom had a good chance of becoming chancellor in the future. There was no reason to dig deeper. Why would someone who’s always had it all want to associate with the good for nothing kids who’d committed crimes?” Murphy leaned his head back against the wall, eyes aimed at the ceiling. You saw his jaw clenching, he had hated you, you realize. The anger in this boy was monumental, the pain he held was just as large, but hidden.

“I don’t think that.” He looks over at you, your eyes lock. “That you’re good for nothing, or that I’m better than you. I kind of envy you actually. You can talk to people. Yeah sure, you mostly insult them, but I can’t even get a measly ‘hi’ out most of the time. Plus, some of you are here for the same reason I am, trying to help someone you love. And that’s not a crime.” Your speech comes to an end, and Murphy has gotten closer to you. His expression was calculating: watching the way your face moved as you talked, listening to the conviction in your tone, being aware of how close your bodies really were.

“Wow, that’s bullshit,” you can’t help but deflate a bit at his words. “You don’t envy me, just the way I communicate. Trust me, my life isn’t rainbows and butterflies. Also, if you haven’t noticed, you’ve been talking to me just fine for the pas-” Murphy’s sentence gets cut off.

Someone is screaming about how the hunting party is back. Before you can think you’re on your feet ready to run to them. You stop in your tracks, right as you were about to sprint, and turn to Murphy. You look at him for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to go back to the boy you thought you knew before this conversation. That is unnecessarily cruel, but now you know there’s some part of him that cares about others. Sure it might manifest in, unusual ways, but none the less it was still there. You take a chance, you hold out your hand offering to help him up.

“Well, are you coming?” You ask shooting him a small smile. He looks shocked for a second before concealing his emotions. He takes your hand.

“Don’t think this is going to get you special treatment, Doll,” he says slinging his arm around your shoulder before steering you two out of the drop ship.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” your voice is quiet, only he can hear your words. You don’t want to draw attention to the two of you, knowing what they’ll say. All caution is thrown into the wind when you see Alex. You run to him, engulfing him in a giant hug.

“Don’t ever leave me like that again,” you mumble, your face pressed into his shoulder.

“I won’t, I won’t. Now, what was that about?” Alex asks, head motioning over to the spot where Murphy stands. Once he notices the two of you looking at him, he diverts his gaze to the person next to him.

“We just talked,” you say with a smile.

“You? Talked? With someone besides me? And Murphy no less?” Your best friend continues to rattle off questions. All you can do is answer them one at a time while thinking about what this might mean, have you added a new friend to your list? Hopefully, you think.


Pairing: Ninth Doctor x reader

Requested by: Anon “Hey darling I absolutely loveeee your blog and your writing. Thank you for taking the time to write and share, your stories are wonderful and well thought out. Not to mention the headcannons are on point! If it’s no hassle love, may I please request a soulmate au for Nine? I don’t mind plot or type of au at all xxxxx thank you darling 😊”

For this soulmate!AU it’s all about emotions.

When you were little you were told everyone had a soulmate. You didn’t doubt it. You see, everyone felt their soulmates emotions after they began period. What you didn’t expect was to be hit over the head with grief the second you did feel your soulmates emotions. It was a deep soul wrenching grief and it tore at you in all the wrong ways.

You learned to deal with your soulmates emotions, fast. You could distance yourself from your emotions and experience your own soon enough. Your soulmate seemed to realize you were there because one day you woke up in the middle of the night, crying from happiness. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hi!! i love love love ur works n what u do and as someone who is also intending to start writing lengthy stuff like that soon, i wanted to ask what do u recommend to not do when writing smut?? if there anything u often read that makes u cringe or feel unrealistic?? (i kno smut is usuallg unrealistically perfect but like things that genuinely wouldnt happen or havent in ur experiences). this is an ask from a virgin n whilst i have good knowledge i wanted to ask from someone skilled lmao xx

This ended up being a novel with a lot of ranting about second hand experiences and inaccuracies in smut so I’m just gonna put a break and spare people’s dashes.

Keep reading

digifangirl97  asked:

Amethyst for the character headcanon thing

1: sexuality headcanon

i’ve always thought that amethyst is bi, and i’m not entirely sure why (hey, that rhymed

2: otp

gamethyst B)

3: brotp

steven or peridot

4: notp

pearl x( that ship makes me uncomfortable, tbh

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

she’s genderfluid!!! i’ve always loved that headcanon

6: one way in which I relate to this character

i bottle up my emotions

7: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

i can’t really think of anything..

8: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?


thewittyphantom  asked:

Do you think Joey has a father-figure role to Serenity like Seto does to Mokuba?

Yes and no.

Seto and Joey are wonderful foils in a lot of ways because they have the same life experience but ended up with different tools to make their way toward the future. Joey had to grow up the moment his parents started talking divorce, likely before then because someone had to look out for Serenity. Someone had to make sure that aside from being physically clean and clothed, she was hanging in there emotionally.

When something scared her and Mom and Dad were neck deep in a fight three months old, it was Joey who pulled the covers up to her chin and sat at the end of the bed telling stories.

When she couldn’t reach the middle button on the back of her dress, it was Joey who told her to spin like a princess and shook a magic wand as he fastened it.

When their father threw bottles and their mother, exasperated and overworked, lashed out physically in return, it was Joey who carried his barefoot sister past the spray of broken glass, pretending the floor was lava.

When her bedroom door eased open late at night to the sound of her tears, she stammered, “You’re gonna get bu-urned,” while he pointed a triumphant finger down to the blanket he’d shuffled in on and said:

“I made a river to you.”

One of the things it’s very hard for media to articulate is the formation of habit outside of a schedule. Routine isn’t always physical: waking up at the same time, wearing the same socks, pouring the same tea. Sometimes the routine of an abusive household, from a mental perspective, is a lot of nuance.

The slight shift in their mother’s voice that says it’s time to close the doors. The time between staggering steps that says it’s time to lock them.

The volume of the TV an indication of veiled aggression, the distant thud of empty beer cans a siren of sheer panic.

Don’t say anything.

Don’t listen to them.

It’s okay, just look at me, what was your doll doing? Remember, she was teaching your bear how to subtract his numbers.

Those things don’t ever fully leave.

Joey couldn’t be “Dad” like Seto could because he was never in a position to shield Serenity from their father’s abuse. There was a lot of emotional, second-hand trauma like listening to him abuse their mother. Not to say that, that’s “less” but that it was something he couldn’t make disappear. She knew it happened. It shaped her. Joey didn’t have the option of saying, “Forget him, I’ll be your father now.” Because that would have invalidated Serenity’s trauma and hurt their relationship. Joey had to be the big brother she could call when it started happening again in other environments, and he had to be the person to stop everything he was doing and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you through this.”

When a short-tempered teacher refused to help her learn biology, she called Joey. When the shouting unnerved her and she started to tearfully explain it was better to drop the class, he talked her down.

“If he doesn’t want to help you, don’t ask him anymore. Let me see what I can do. Let’s check which other professors in the department stay after school.”

They did, and he bent over a biology textbook after scraping by three years earlier with a C-, tryng to supplement as much information as he could.

Think about her mother falling back on old habits and telling Serenity everything is her fault. Bill paid late? Your fault. House is messy? You never help me.

People in abusive households often form abusive habits without realizing it, and Joey had to be the neutral, mutually invested party she could call and vent to. He had to be the safe space she could go to and say: “I need a break for a while.”

Though Joey wasn’t with Serenity every day, it says a lot that it was his comfort she wanted before an operation, that it was his dream she wanted to watch unfold even though hers were newly in reach with her eyesight corrected.
Joey and Serenity were in their fight together, even if it took some time for Joey to feel comfortable confiding in her mutually, and even if some things still had to be softened for the sake of being age appropriate.

Just because Serenity moved out didn’t mean Joey could let his guard down for her. It didn’t mean he got his innocence back.

But, to some degree, that goes both ways.

When Joey’s lacking confidence shows, Serenity knows it’s from years of being told he’s inadequate and is ready to lift him up again any way she knows how. She knows the terrible memories attaching themselves to his every waking thought, and she’s stared them down enough that they’re able to wade through them together.

Everyone needs a hand when the water they’re treading is too high, and I think one of the major differences in how well adjusted Joey is compared to Seto, is how much he could lean on someone who went through the same things, despite wishing every day that he could take the pain and the fear and the trauma from her.

Joey had to grow up for Serenity and he’s definitely a paternal older brother, but their relationship is a lot different than Seto and Mokuba’s.

Joey did things their father should have done for both of them.

Joey had a fatherly role in a lot of ways because there was no one else to fill it. The same goes for the ways his mother fell short maternally. 

At the end of the day, Serenity’s not financially dependent on Joey like Mokua is Seto. Facing demons is more of a joint effort because they share some of them, and despite that hardship that’s meant for both of them, it’s infinitely important to who they are.

Thank you for the ask!

My therapist has just started training me with EMDR(Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing) and I absolutely love it. This has worked better for me than any other kind of psychotherapy treatment.

anonymous asked:


Thank you for asking!

1: sexuality headcanon


2: otp


3: brotp


4: notp

Laurent isn’t really shipped with anyone else so

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Giggles when Damen kisses his waist and that laugh is how unicorns and fairies are born

6: favorite line from this character

There are many many lines but let’s go with

“I don’t know how this interrogation found its way into my bed. May I ask where I can expect it to travel next?”

7: one way in which I relate to this character

Hard to open up and not very good with emotions and affection

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

Comes from having his neck kissed. Pull yourself together

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Cinnamon roll hidden behind a problematic fave

Send me a character and I’ll answer these

anonymous asked:

Ayano Aishi? {Yandere Simulator}

Ayano Aishi:

1: sexuality headcanon: pan

2: otp: AyanoxBudo

3: brotp: Ayano and Osana (*cough* best girl *cough*)

4: notp: Ayano and Senpai (senpai is a little bitch)

5: first headcanon that pops into my head: I can’t think of any because anything she would do is basically canon

6: favorite line from this character: when she mocked Osana in the rap

7: one way in which I relate to this character: wears lots of black and has emotional issues

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character: her obsession with Senpai

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? Problematic fave

Waiting for Niall’s response is like waiting for the building aftershock of a big, emotional Nouis earthquake. You felt the first massive quake of Louis’ lovely tweet, and you’re just sitting with your head in your hands, taking shelter and waiting for the second-wave of an emotional earthquake you know Niall’s gonna come back hard with. But the worst part is waiting and anticipating….you know it’s not over, and is bound to only shake you up more, but you can’t tell when. So you stay on red-alert. 😬

Affect? What the hell is that?

Anytime anyone is talking about “feels,” they’re talking about affect. Now, if you know anything about “feels,” you know they’re not limited to “happiness,” “sadness,” “anger,” “love,” but they can expand to “second-hand embarrassment,” or the aptly named “squick,” things that aren’t exactly emotions. Further, sensation doesn’t quite cover affect either, because we ike to think of sensations in relation to our senses, touch, taste, scent, hearing, sight; but this leaves out the “sense of not fitting in,” which is something we talk about with the word “sense,” but it doesn’t have anything with our “five senses.” So, pretty much affects are those things that we “sense” or “feel,” but not limited to our body or our emotions. You see why this can get difficult?

In philosophy, the three people who’re credited with beginning philosophy’s interest in affect are Spinoza, Deleuze, and Guattari. They took affects to be those things that increased or reduced a thing’s ability to act, which works for them especially given their areas of interest. Spinoza, for example, was interested in how people could perfect themselves and get closer to god, so Spinoza connected the “positive affects” to positive feelings, and negative aspects to negative feelings. Pretty much, if you were happy about the right things, this increased your power to act, and made you better able to get closer to god. If you were happy about negative things, you still increased your power to act, but you wouldn’t get as close to god as someone who was happy about the right things.

Also Spinoza is important to mention here because the body is really important to his affect. For Spinoza the affects were in the body, and weren’t just limited to emotions: they could also be things like a fever, which reduced our body’s ability to act, or intoxication which produced “confused thoughts,” which also reduced our bodies’ capacity to act. See, one of the things that you have to understand about Spinoza was that his whole philosophy was about making people more perfect, and by perfect, he meant “closer to god.” He figured that our entire motivation in the world was to become more perfect, more like god, and all of our cultural stuff moved forwards on that basis.

Deleuze and Guattari, in their book A Thousand Plateaus (which is a hard book to read) pick up what Spinoza was trying to do, but they toss out the god talk. For them Affect is… Well I’m just going to quote from the introduction to the book because it’s easier:

AFFECT/AFFECTION. Neither word denotes a personal feeling (sentiment in Deleuze and Guattari). L'affect (Spinoza’s affectus) is an ability to affect and be affected. It is a prepersonal intensity corresponding to the passage from one experiential state of the body to another and implying an augmentation or diminution in that body’s capacity to act. L'affection (Spinoza’s affectio) is each such state considered as an encounter between the affected body and a second, affecting, body (with body taken in its broadest possible sense to include “mental” or ideal bodies).

What this means is that affect is the ability to have feels and cause feels. When they’re saying it’s “prepersonal,” they mean that it’s not really something that comes out of the body, but happens when the body runs into something that gives it feels. For example, when I wince in sympathy when Rafael blows it, yet again, on Jane The Virgin, I’m experiencing an affect because I’m watching Jane The Virgin which gives me particular kinds of feels. Now Deleuze and Guattari keep Spinoza’s talk about being able to act, but they’re pretty much talking about being able to act in certain ways. For example, being nervous about doing something is an affect that keeps us from acting in certain ways, as we’re literally stopped from doing what we intend to do by the feeling.

Further, and this is something that we really need to pay close attention to, bodies includes “ideal” or “mental” bodies. Pretty much what they’re saying is that concepts have feels attached to them. It’s the only way that we can call a plan “ugly” or “messy,” because a plan feels messy when it isn’t organized properly. This is really important when we’re talking about how a concept makes us “feel” something, or how concepts move feelings around. We experience this all the time, especially in discussions about privilege and systemic inequality: when white people, men, straight people, cis people are forced to confront their privilege, they “feel” uncomfortable because the concept that they’re dealing with literally take them out of their safe space of being a “good” person. In fact, this is the whole reason why these conversations are had in “safe spaces,” because grappling with these things can cause such an intense case of the “feels” on both sides that the people in question break down. This is also why there is a need for spaces where underrepresented groups can talk about these things in the absence of the people who’re causing them to feel oppressed.

Okay, this got really heavy really fast. Getting back to history, according to Wikipedia, in the late 2000’s, there was this thing called the “affective turn,” (philosophy has a lot of turns and revolutions) where people started thinking about affect more broadly. What this means is that anything that we can “feel,” in whatever way, began to count as an affect. So that feeling of being “at home” when you’re with your friends? That’s an affect. The warm, cozy feeling that you get with your kitty? That’s an affect too. The feeling of a car being “fast” when you look at it? That’s an affect. Philosophers and thinkers in a variety of disciplines began to seriously consider the way that things have affects associated with them, and that these affects… well… affect what we do in the world.

Now, there are more advanced ways of thinking about affect and affectivity, and this is where my favorite author, Sara Ahmed comes in. For her, affect moves around like money in an economy. As affect moves around, it sticks to certain things, which is what gives them their particular “feelings.” So the affect isn’t in the object, but is stuck to the object due to the way that the feeling circulates around the group. In fact, Ahmed argues that it is the ability for feelings to stick to things that allows groups to form: you can think about the “plastics” from Mean Girls as having a certain affect about them that sets them apart, but this affect comes out of the history of what the “plastics” have done at the high school.

This connection of history is a really big point: in Mean Girls, everyone knows about the “plastics” and the crappy things that they have done, all of which contribute to the affect that gives the shape of the plastics as a group. Further, there are certain kinds of actions that the plastics do in the social space of the high school that helps circulate the affect (plasticness? I don’t know) associated with the plastics, which helps them draw the boundaries of their group. When Cady starts doing all the actions associated with the plastics, she is drawn into the group of the plastics, which ultimately pushes aside her previous friends…And you see where I’m going with this, right? Basically, affect is really involved with how we perceive people and, based on that perception, how we act towards them in the world.

Alright, I’ve gotten way ahead of myself: Perception? All of these things have something to do with affect. Remember what I said above, that affect is being able to have feels and cause feels? Well in order to have feels, you have to perceive the feels in the first place. To feel warm and cozy with your kitty, you have to be able to perceive the warm and coziness that happens when you’re cuddling with the kitty. The feels you’re having aren’t actually in you so much as they’re happening because you’re cuddling with the kitty. Further, the only reason you see the kitty as something you can cuddle and be warm and cozy with is through your knowledge of the history of cats and all the cultural baggage that comes with cats.

The same thing can be said about our perception of places: if you’ve ever been in a place where you feel uncomfortable, that’s an affect; if you’ve ever been in a place that feels “creepy,” that’s an affect. The happens partially because of the space, and partially because of your knowledge about the history of the space. A woman who isn’t comfortable being alone with a bunch of drunken men is uncomfortable because of her knowledge of what drunken men have done to women when they’re alone, and the actions (potential or otherwise) that the drunken men are doing in that space. So the affect of “danger” sticks to the drunken men due to the history of men (not just drunken ones) doing terrible things to women when they are alone and isolated.

Deleuze, Guattari, and Spinoza aren’t the only ones who talk about affect: Dewey actually does a pretty good job with this when he calls it a “quality.” See, qualities are the result of an organism’s engagement with the environment. Each engagement has a “dramatic structure,” in that it has a beginning, middle, and end, all of which are united by a certain quality which makes it unique. Pretty much, for Dewey, qualities emerge from the way that all the parts of a thing come together: it’s how we can say people are physically attractive in different ways, how we can say that our relationships have different qualities, and how we can tell that anything has any particular quality to it at all.

Basically, whenever someone is talking about “feels” they’re talking about affect. Whenever someone is describing a place that “feels” creepy, they’re talking about affect. Whenever someone is saying something “looks” fast, they’re talking about affect. Affect is pretty much the feeling associated with a thing when we interact with it, and it changes from culture to culture, and object to object.

for @keithrigfire313


1: sexuality headcanon


2: otp

Momoko x Mitsuru

3: brotp


4: notp

Momoko x Kenshirou

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Seitarou made for her that Hajime plushie. 

6: favorite line from this character

“Don’t insult us, brat.”

7: one way in which I relate to this character

People often misread my emotions.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character


9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Dangerous cinnamon roll.


Keep reading

Petals (2/2)

Part 1

Genre: Fluff, Angst | Wedding!AU

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word count: 5582

A/N: Oh so this story turns out to be my longest and how proud I am of it. I have to say I wanted it to finish in angst but I couldn’t. @junghoshigi, I am sorry for not following the song you requested me but I can do that as a drabble soon if you want too. I warn you, you’ll read the word “tears” over and over again in this part and I am really sorry for this. Please enjoy and please leave me feedback :) Tagging @pjiminnie and @jiminniejuseyo as well because I know they wanted to read part 2 as well. 

Originally posted by taehyyungs

And the door cracked open, the face of your father slipping inside, his expression going from calm to thrilled at the sight of your angelic look, dressed in a long puffy white dress, broded with floral lace, dress that reflected your purity in every possible way.

Keep reading