#Also writing in second perspective was getting limiting

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

miss oranje's faves: self-recs edition

i'm not used to praising myself bc i am my biggest hater, not my biggest fan, but i was tagged by the lovely @gothcsz to participate in @jolapeno 's 'tootathon' challenge, and i originally was going to pass up the opportunity butttt i suppose i'll *try* to say nice things about myself but i love the people in this fandom so i always enjoy participating in the fun, particularly something that promotes positivity when fandoms can be so toxic sometimes. honestly, i might need to steal this idea and make a positivity challenge for the resident evil fandom (which is what i primarily write for) because we are in need of good vibes…

*because my blog is multi-fandom, my masterlist is getting big overall, so i'm going to link my javi fics and my joel fics (along with my liztober '24 because there are a couple other pedro character fics on there)

i haven't been a part of the pedro pascal fandom for long, so my work here is limited, but i will share a few things:

it's never over (javi p x reader) - a two part fic (part one is from javi's perspective, part two is from reader's)

I really liked the concept for this fic and it was something that I wrote bits and pieces of for a while. I tried to change it to a single pov because i think i’m not someone who does well with pov switches like this, but it never captured the full scope of the story i wanted to tell when i tried to make it only javi’s or only reader’s. Ultimately, while i’d like to add onto this fic because i would like to expand upon reader’s pov, i like the story that i told in the end (i love angst). Maybe there will be a part 3…

2. and for dessert? (javi p x reader) - a short, mildly smutty story about javi and a housekeeper at a hotel

i hated this fic for a while because i got caught up in the numbers but i reread it last night and i was like, ‘okay, the concept is incredibly silly, but i guess in some way, that’s the point’. Anyway, when i looked back and stopped focusing on the numbers, i realized that i actually really like this fic, and probably wouldn’t change anything about it.

3. anniversary antics (joel x reader) - joel and his wife getting it on ... heavy breeding kink here

i wrote this in an hour or so. it just came to me. straight from the smutty brain (which is rare). this is one of the few fics of mine that i re-read and actually think 'oh this is hot'!

4. everything's bigger in texas (joel x reader) - for my liztober celebration! reader loses her virginity to joel and it's a sweet and short smut.

this is my second most popular tumblr post of all time (so it doesn’t need promo here), which is very funny because i almost didn't post this at all. i thought the size kink might be too basic and overdone but i also really wanted to write an 'older' reader as i have a tendency to write younger readers (which is partially because i am 24 and have never been older than 24 vs i have been 21 etc.) and i wanted to get away from the typical innocent virgin thing.

and also, we're gonna get personal here... i'm pretty sure i have vaginismus and so it's really really difficult to have sex. i've been shamed or questioned rather than reassured during situations where i struggle or am entirely unable to. reader in this fic was not specified to have vaginismus because i was trying to keep it light and smutty, flipping it around into a size kink, but it was a bit healing to write tbh. 

I’m pretty sure everyone has already been tagged but i’ll tag some of my mutuals just in case:

@clawdee @evolnoomym @baronessvonglitter @the-mandawhor1an

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[simp4konig]

König jealous of your dog headcannons

Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: Definitely more than 2😎 🗿Honest to God i have no idea whay the word count is 🤦🏼‍♀️These were mewnt to be short headcannons yet as PER USUAL i got carried away 🤡🤡not abt to copynpaste every single paragraph individually into a word counter

*Slow burn

*Established relationship with König

*⚠️Google Translate German!!⚠️ (sorry guys ...💔)

*Not requested 😋😋 just something that's been on my mind.

*Pls dont worru about rqs guys!!😨 Writing two of tjem atm but I jus wanted to post this first (so my profile isnt as barren as the Sahara desert🏜️while i work at a pace that is slower than that of a turtle 🐢)! :)

*Also how tf do people make their bullet points look so good??? is it a formatting thing or sum cuz im ACTUALLT crippled 😰😰

...

König really didn't want to be jealous of your dog. He didn't.

He hadn't anticipated he would ever feel that way, especially towards a dog, of all things.

Despite not being the type to be jealous — at least, not from his perspective; he was only looking out for his darling! — his eyes would narrow whenever a soldier would approach you, being far too handsy with a stranger. His partner. It made his blood boil.

Sure, König would always stare down whoever made the mistake of flirting with you or introducing themselves with playful banter while behind you. Clearing his throat, a tense hand was placed gently yet firmly on your shoulder.

"Hör auf, mit meinem Schatz zu reden, sonst breche ich dir das Genick."

Not understanding a word of what he said, they would cower in fear nonetheless, getting the message with how he'd had spat that sentence and the venom in his voice. Glancing at their wrist despite wearing no watch, they'd insist that they were running out of time and literally run away.

When you'd look up at him in confusion, König looked back down at you innocently, paraphrasing that he had simply said you were taken.

A facepalm from you. "God, König..." you'd groan, unable to stop the silly smirk from stretching itself on your face. "You nearly made that guy shit himself. Please don't do that again."

König would likewise always straighten himself to his full height and cast a menacing shadow at the dummkopf who dared speak poorly of you.

Once they'd mumble rushed apologies and speed-walk away, you'd see him glowing with an adoring expression in his eyes, a complete 180° to the death stare he shot at the recruit and the hand gesture he made at his throat seconds before.

König would always rest a large hand on your lower back to guide you in crowds, keeping you close beside him to further drive in the point that you were strictly off limits.

Really though, he wasn't jealous. Not in the slightest!

He rationalised his behaviour as looking out for you. In no way was he being overbearing or overly territorial; if anything, people were pushing your already established boundaries and he was reminding people of them! He wasn't jealous at all, no.

Behind closed doors, however, he'd be quieter than usual and have a vulnerable look in his eyes, desperate for your reassurance and to hear you say that you loved him.

Deep down, he was insecure.

That good-looking man didn't make you swoon, did he? Why were you laughing so hard at his joke? He wanted to have made you laugh like that. You still loved him, though, didn't you? You wouldn't want to be with anyone else, right? Right?

It wasn't that König didn't trust you. Although this Colonel looked fierce in front of his collegues and used his booming voice to command others with a harsh tone he found it difficult to project at a large crowd, he had always been sensitive in secret. Being bullied in childhood could certainly do that to a person.

You were the only one he trusted to see his insecurities, and would always shower him with love and affection in private, reassuring him that yes, he was still your sweet and handsome König, and yes, of course you still loved him — that guy that got a laugh out of you was only one out of pity, as he gave you the ick anyways.

One afternoon while you two were eating dinner, König had out of the blue been the one to suggest the idea of a pet; a strong, big, intimidating dog that would protect you while he himself couldn't.

In all actuality, he had been thinking this over since the day you two started dating.

After all, as much as he'd had liked to clone himself and have one part of him fighting when duty called while the other part stayed with you to protect you at home, obviously that wasn't achievable. That afternoon seemed most appropriate to bring it up, as he was assigned for a mission in two weeks' time and was already worried sick over you despite still yet to be around you at all times for twelve more days.

You laughed, surprised by his sudden suggestion. In a way, you had already had a guard dog all along, you told him, yet König shook his head vehemently, insistent. "Nein! Was ist, wenn du verletzt bist? What if you get hurt while I am away? I won't allow it!"

Shaking your head in defeat as an amused smile was tugging at your lips, you couldn't really blame your boyfriend for being so paranoid. In a sense, he was justified in thinking so, and you couldn't fault him, him being a soldier — a Colonel — and all.

König himself came to the conclusion that you should have a German-Shepherd — "A big, strong, and intelligent dog" — smiling proudly as he said so. Laughing at his need to prove himself to you and his evident enthusiasm that proved he was deadly serious, you shook your head again with a sincere smile on your face and gave his forehead a kiss. Really, his concern over you was endearing, and you loved him so much.

On the day before the mission of his, he surprised you by leading in a fully-grown German Shepherd into your shared home as he carried a large dufflebag over his shoulder. Although you had wanted to have a puppy, König insisted a trained canine used in the police force and military operations would keep you safe, and he was firm, not budging even when you mustered the best puppy-dog eyes you could. He knew best, and he needed to relieve the anxiety that plagued him when you weren't around immediately. Finally having use for the connections he had made in his position, he was able to bring home on of Kortac's own German-Shepherds.

Standing with a self-assured manner, the dog didn't hesistate in showering you with love once the lead came off, lapping and licking at your face in excitement at seeing his new owner's face.

You laughed out loud when you saw a tactical dog collar around his neck, the same khaki colour that matched König's cargo pants. Another piece of König to remind you of him.

Still standing, König watched with his arms crossed and a huge smile across his face as he saw how happy you were. He was beginning to breathe easy with the knowledge that nothing would come to harm you while he was away.

Tongue out while panting, the dog waited expectantly under you for an order.

You looked up at König, eyes sparkling in child-like excitement. "Can he do tricks?"

Smiling, König's eyes crinkled in his love for you. "Schatz, it can do more than just tricks. It can protect you. And it will."

You looked down at the giant yet sweet dog, and raised your voice slightly.

"Sit." He did so without hesitation.

"Handshake," you prompted, and he offered his paw to you obediently.

"Stay..." you began, a finger in front of his snout, "stay..."

"Good boy!" you squealed, and fed him a dog treat from the one of the XXL bags König had bought for the occasion, along with a mountain of dog toys, and even a bed.

"What are clever boy you are, aren't you? Yes you are! You are!"

König crouched, and pet the top of the dog's head a couple of times, his eyes on you. "What do you want to call it, meine Liebe?"

Pausing, all at once it occured to you. With joyful satisfaction, you exclaimed: "Prince!" You giggled, barely able to contain your happiness. "Our Prince to my sweet, handsome King," you cooed, not failing to notice the way König looked away, his cheeks under the eye holes of his hood reddening at your comment.

While away from you for weeks, even months at a time, he could rest easier knowing that you weren't all alone at home. Although he still worried for you excessively, biting his nails when in his room as he thought over how you could be doing and what you were doing at any given time, at least he wouldn't toss and turn at night thinking over what could happen to you. He'd smile in satisfaction, pleased that his presence would still linger even when he wasn't physically there, finding comfort in the fact that a part of him still remained with you when he was hundreds of miles away.

You, on the other hand, were so happy! Obviously you were overwhelmed with the responsibility — quite frankly, you had never had a dog before, much less one this big — so you struggled to take care of it in the beginning. Knowing what food to feed it, how to keep it entertained, going so often outside you'd flop on a chair in exhaustion was physically and mentally demanding, as you wanted your canine companion to love you unconditionally and not be a bad owner to it at all.

However, it all quickly became routine to you: walking your guard dog as his ears were perked up in alertness, head darting around from side to side; playing with it in the park, and spoiling it with treats when you'd get home; and grooming his soft, dark fur and taking him to vet checkups almost made you wonder how you had managed to live this long without ever owning a pet.

Whenever you'd make yourself some food, you filled his bowl with dog food too. Whenever you had just stepped out of the shower, it would be your dog's turn to be cleaned in the bathtub. Whenever you would lazily lay on the sofa or sprawl yourself on the bed, your dog was cuddled up to you.

It was all fun and games, though, until he'd damn near suffocate you with his sheer mass and make you sneeze from the fur that tickled your nostrils, but you slowly grew used to it, using your German Shepherd as a weighted blanket and hugging it like it was your own child.

Somehow, this furry friend filled a void that König would leave behind, and you practically were both attached by the hip — well, by the ankle and hind leg, actually, but that's beside the point. You two were inseparable, and if König knew that then he'd be surely overjoyed.

When König finally had some precious minutes to himself, the first thing he'd do was call you, wanting to hear your voice and make sure you were alright. He'd nearly trip over his own two feet as he scrambled for his phone to dial your number, nearly knocking over a lamp and falling over some furniture in the process.

You'd pick up on the second ring and would nearly go deaf upon hearing the loud accented voice on the receiver. "Liebling! How are you, my sweet? I have been missing you!"

You two would exchange these sorts of questions and proclamations of love back and forth, so lovey-dovey that some of the more daring operators in König's faction made gagging noises on the other side of the door, while the more serious operators scolded them and reminded them that they were yet to feel the touch of another man/woman.

As König would listen to your ramblings about how happy you were and your lovely German Shepard, however, his ears perked up and he listened more closely.

"Prince is so lovely! He's my sweet baby and I love him so so so much! He's definitely my best friend right now, 100%. Everyone back home is getting pissy with me when I don't answer their calls because I spend more time with him than I do with them but can you really blame me when I have this beautiful prince? I mean, he's so sweet! Whenever I don't wake up at the same time in the morning he's jumping into bed and licking my face and oh my God I cannot cope with this cuteness! He's such a good boy! The very best boy! The best boy of all the boys!"

Meanwhile, König stood there, his mouth agape.

...What did you mean he was your sweet baby? Your beautiful prince? Your good boy?

Why would you call him the — not the best, but the very best — boy, the best of all boys? You couldn't have been serious.

It was just a dog. Why were you so attached to it?

It wasn't like König didn't grasp the concept of strong bonds between humans and animals — in fact, he had always been a strong believer of the "dogs being a man's best friend" common knowledge — but... this? You were coddling the thing, for God's sake! It was supposed to be fierce and threatening, not cute and cuddly. How was it supposed to protect you when all you'd do was hug it and give it compliments?

He felt his jaws tighten when you panned the camera down to show the dog peacefully laying beside you on the bed, you stroking his ears. On. The. Bed. On his and your bed. The bed the two of you would sleep on.

König couldn't believe this; he, a grown man, a disciplined soldier that moved up the ranks to be a Colonel, a 6'10 brutal killing machine who l... wanted you to be calling him those things, wanted you to run your fingers through his hair like that. Not some mutt. You were giving it star treatment and pampering it way too much than you should have.

He laughed at himself for thinking so irrationally and for being so immature. I mean, it was a dog. There was no competition to be won, nothing to prove — his rational thought repeated to him that you still loved him regardless — yet the ultimate prize would be you and your attention.

He chuckled disingenuously as you rambled on about something, and the smile under his hood didn't quite reach his eyes.

When he finally returned after grueling months away from you, those pale blue eyes still crinkled up in happiness whenever they saw you, still picked you up and spun you in the air as you'd shriek like a banshee while your legs kicked freely, still gave you a loving kiss on your lips before showering your face with wet kisses. He'd pull away, a boyish grin on his face, his face flushed, your eyes locked with his in an intimate moment...

...And then his mood would sour as your dog leaped up towards you, not wanting to be left out in the reunion.

You'd fail to notice his hands clenched into fists as your dog took the oh so comfortable spot on your lap, where he should have been laying, how below his mask a scowl was aimed at the dog you'd shower with kisses that should have been for him, how the dog would slobber your face and leave it dripping in drool, almost as if it was proving some point to him and being totally smug about it.

Of course, he didn't seem the least bit bothered to you — he wouldn't let his behaviour show. This was utter childishness, completely ridiculous, and absolutely absurd, yet somehow König couldn't control the jealousy that would stew inside of him hours after you'd fall asleep, glaring at the dog laying in between you when all he had wanted all day was to cuddle up to you and hold you close.

Somehow, his plan to keep you safe backfired, because the dog took his job as your body guard too seriously and would not let him be affectionate with you. He was beginning to despise the creature.

When you'd be walking the dog together and shower it with praise, König's hands clenched into tight fists. When you'd stroke the dog's head gently, running your fingers through his thick fur as his front paws were tucked neatly underneath him, König's nails dug into his biceps as he kept his arms firmly crossed, hating what he was seeing through his peripheral vision. When you'd glance at him as your dog was nestled between your legs, he'd turn his head, hiding the furrowed eyebrows and the clear pout on his face of an annoyed child, behaving like an annoyed child.

• In conclusion: give your König a hug. :( A kiss right on the lips and tell him that he's your sweet baby! Your beautiful prince! Your good boy! Your favourite person in the entire world and the best of the best!

• Reserve that precious spot on your lap *just* for him, and allow him to be putty in your hands!

• Run your fingers through his hair just like you would with your dog, and scratch that sensitive spot on his scalp with your fingernails!

• Don't make him regret ever getting the dog for you :'( As time goes on, it will eventually become the "father that didn't want the pet is now best friends with it and the pet is most affectionate with him" kind of dynamic.

• Just because muscular men and army-hardened soldiers like König were disciplined to be stoic and strong, sometimes they want nothing more than affection and words of affirmation from their lover from time to time. <3

So, you'd now lounge on the couch, content with your two guard dogs on either side of you; your Prince laying to your right, and your King in between your thighs, stroking the top of his head as his chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm.

...

Note: Gonna kms 🤡🔫 i have ro to go back to school tmr fucjing WHY i hate everyoje there 😭So yeah less frequent updates sorry guys 💔💔still going to be writing my long-ass fanfictions but itll take more time and ill probs have like 10 mentsl breakfowns daily 🤪 literallt cannot wait 🥰

My writing process is so incomprehensible tho 😭i jump from the first fic im writing to the second one im writing WAYY too often 🗿but ig its good because in a way im not TECHNICALLY procrastinating and beinf productive with 2 projects at once,, tho idk i guess tbats just a major cope if im beinf honest🤷🏼‍♀️

THANKS FOR 1000+ LIKES AND NEARLY 80 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🎉🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💕💕💕💕 LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF U AND WISH YOU NOTHING BUT HAPPINESS IN LIFE 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 8

That's it. That's my (late) intro this week.

But in all seriousness, although I was somewhat prepared because of the additional previews that dropped for this episode, I don't think it's really possible to be fully prepared for how something might hit you until you actually see it. And parts of it didn't hit great, lads.

Just know that I'm using the term 'favorite' from a mostly acting perspective for this week and probably next week too.

For my own sanity I'm starting off with Mahasamut's fond husband smile. Mostly because I can and I want to but also because we got see a lot of it this episode. The sweetness that I noted last week is still very present.

I was also very glad to see that Mahasamut has forged a very affectionate bond with Meena.

Mira, Viviana, you've got no business looking disappointed that your plans aren't working out the way you want them to and lamenting about it in voiceover when you keep playing these games with my girly. Things will progress if you're clear!

The sweetneeeessssssss.

Vivi makes the best faces when she's watching Tongrak and Mahasamut be sweet. She can't see the writing on her own wall but she can see it on theirs.

Viviana! It's not a competition! It's not a race! Where's P'Kit someone go get him and make him have a come to jesus with Vivi. She's even got Tongrak telling her that fiction ain't reality and that she needs to use her words.

Tongrak, you are gone for this man.

"Nonsense!" he says. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt anymore, is it, Harry? I do love the sibling energy these two have. They're the Spider-Man meme except they're both clowns calling each other out for not expressing their feelings.

It's Mahasamut sleeping peacefully like the angel he is while Tongrak wrestles with the fact that Vivi is right for me.

I expected a lot more smugness and vitriol from Prin given that she's scheming to destroy Tongrak and has done it with such gusto up until now but it says a lot that even she looks disgusted with what she's doing. She won't even let Jak touch her. Turns out even a hell witch has her limits.

But this man? No such luck.

He's making this face after being asked to destroy his child. Prin offered him five million (and possibly more) to hurt Rak and he looks happy about it. Giddy even. That's sheer malice. Absolutely beyond fucked up.

When your adorable teenage niece roasts you for not having any friends and coming to her for advice.

If "Bet." was a facial expression.

Who's the cat and who's the canary now, Khun Tongrak?

Mahasamut's got cartoon hearts floating around his head and baby girl is so done with him.

*holds on to this moment for a second longer*

I throw roses at Peat's feet every week for how fantastic his face acting is but don't think for a moment that Fort doesn't deserve them too because he absolutely does.

Mut's face was all warmth and smiles when he was alone with Meena, then it became more guarded and cautious when they were approached, then we landed at this when Meena confirmed that the trash in front of them was her grandfather.

Fort's face is naturally very sweet and soft. He's got the opposite of resting bitch face but the fact that he can affect one so well when it's so far removed from what comes naturally to him is all in the eyes.

Look at his gaze. His eyes are normally very sparkly but here they look flat and cold and you can barely see his pupils. These are the dead calculating eyes of a shark and they reveal more hatred than words ever could and that takes TALENT.

I have to give An props for that too because he's also very good at the shark eyes but he's using them in a different way than Fort is.

Look at this screenshot and tell me it doesn't feel like Jak is looking through Mahasamut instead of at him. I can't quite describe how his face emotes but doesn't show actually genuine emotion, it's very impressive and unsettling.

The only time it felt like Jak was actually feeling something was when he looked happy about fucking with Tongrak's life.

Save me, adoring smile. Adoring smile, save me.

VIVIANA! I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST LET KAIMOOK LEAVE YOUR APARTMENT WITHOUT CHASING AFTER HER TO MAKE SURE SHE KNEW YOU KISSED HER AS YOURSELF!

LOOK AT HER FACE. QUIT FUCKING WITH MY KID AND MAKE YOUR FEELINGS CLEAR.

Microseconds were all it took to shift from the gentle loving look Mahasamut was giving a sleeping Tongrak to silent rage as he recalled the encounter with Jak. Microseconds.

Incredulous disgust. I'd lay bets that we all looked like this when we heard Jak say he wanted to fulfill his role as Tongrak's father.

PEAT HAS MADE THIS EXACT FACE AND I HATE IT. NINA MY BABY YOU'RE SO TALENTED AND IN THIS MOMENT I HATE IT. THEIR EYES ARE EVEN A SIMILAR COLOR AND CATCH THE LIGHT THE SAME WAY.

IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit my tiny baby princess this is the look of someone so much older than you IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit

Gone. Besotted. Utterly enamored.

How could anyone look like this

when their child is looking at them like this?

I hate how much Jak is enjoying this and there is absolutely no doubt that he is, it's vile.

It took me a very long time to get Chris Chiu's scream out of my head when I watched Unknown and it's going to take even longer for me to be able to look at An Oliver Poupart without feeling my skin crawl.

To end this on a high note, I'm going to point out that Mahasamut's shirt isn't just a solid color.

It's TEXTURED.

The straits may be dire but if nothing else, at least it looks like I'm clowning in the right direction. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in these weekly writeups!

[lovelessrage]

Loveless Characters: A Starter Guide and FAQ

[PT: Loveless Characters: A Starter Guide and FAQ]

Sometimes I feel like those Youtubers that only upload twice a year. Anyway, onto some disclaimers.

I am one person. Please assure you are gathering from multiple sources when writing ANY character from a perspective you’re not familiar with. Even if you’re confident, everybody has blind spots, and that’s okay, it’s just a fact. Second, I am not a proofreader by trade or by hobby; I can answer questions, I can go over scenarios, but I cannot go through your manuscript or Google Doc. I live with chronic fatigue and pain, so it’s just not feasible; I’ll do my best but you have to give me some leniency here. Seek out other loveless folks for that, and make sure you pay them. Third, I can’t cover everything; there will be stuff I miss that other people will point out, hence why you shouldn’t ever look to exactly one source.

With that out of the way, let’s get the ball rolling. We’ll start with definitions, plural, and explain these various experiences briefly.

Loveless has been commonly defined, although not limited to, one of four major definitions; we can label these with these shorthands.

Unloving (entirely or partially)

Disconnected

Rejection

Politically/Socially

There’s nuances between all four and beyond them, but I feel these categories are easiest for our explanation - we’ll get into some of those nuances below.

The Unloving (entirely or partial)

[PT: The Unloving (entirely or partial)]

This person uses the label because they, wholly or partially, do not feel love. While identifying as loveless because you don’t feel love seems straightforward, why do so if it’s partial? There’s a few primary reasons I tend to see. Sometimes, the attractions someone does not feel love in are more significant to their identity or experiences than the ones they do feel love in. This can be because of societal pressures, such as not feeling romantic love alienating someone due to its prevalence, or someone who does not feel familial love seeking to reclaim and find pride in the absence of that feeling. Regardless of how little love someone feels, from only one spectrum to all of them, anyone using it because of a literal lack of love falls in this category. Individuals who are riding the partiality line may also use the label loveless-spec, or use spec- labels alongside the loveless umbrella.

Disconnected

[PT: Disconnected]

This person uses the label because they either feel disconnected from love due to societal pressure, indifference to the emotion, or because of a mental disorder/illness or other disability. Disconnection that is societally caused can, for example, be a loveless asexual disconnected from the idea of love due to having it be so heavily associated with sex that they no longer feel attached to it. Indifference is self-explanatory, but also has its own nuances; someone can be indifferent because it has never mattered to them, or because experience has shaped their opinion in the present, such as not finding much enjoyment in being loving, or having mixed feelings after a toxic relationship.

Mental illness and disability is its own can of worms, due to how many there are, as well as the limitations that come with not being able to discuss every comorbidity. I can only speak from certain angles, but overall, if you do not have the disorders you are trying to represent and/or aren’t loveless yourself, if you plan to go this route, proofreading is not a luxury, it is a must. Get that second opinion before moving further.

Rejection

[PT: Rejection]

This person uses the label because they are rejecting love, or feel rejected by love. There are plenty of reasons that someone may reject love as a concept, many of which overlap with reasons for disconnect. The expectation can be too heavy, the societal implications can be unsavoury, or someone is radically indifferent and wants nothing to do with it. Rejection by love is immensely common, especially within various marginalised communities. Several groups, such as the disabled, people of colour, trans and GNC individuals, and aspec individuals have their unique love experiences devalued, othered, or otherwise made out to be less than and evil for not fitting into eurocentric, white, ablebodied, cis, etc. ideals of what love is. Because of this, rejecting the complex of love, especially one used specifically to villainise things you cannot change or communities you are a part of, can lead someone to use this label.

Politically/Socially

[PT: Politically/Socially]

What is being politically loveless? What’s that mean? It’s much more simple than it can seem, and many people will agree with these principles, even if they don’t choose to use the label to identify those are their stances. The people that use this label do see identifying with this label as a declaration of their political opinions and goals. These goals include love neutrality, which refers to making love as an emotion completely neutral and not necessarily a force of good, and decentering of love in society, meaning removing it as a necessity for all and dismantling the idea that it is what makes us human.

While I’m on this topic, I should say that if you are representing characters coming from this perspective, you should do actual readings on the kind of discussions around these topics and various loveless perspectives on these ideas. If you’re going to write about a political movement, read about those politics; ask people their opinions if they’re willing to give them.

Now that we’ve defined lovelessness in a basic sense, there’s even more variation in between all of these because of the fact that people often identify as loveless (something). This does not only have to be loveless aro, and can extend to loveless aces, apls, afams, asensuals, aqps, loveless allos (this one gets passed over a lot, unfortunately), and many, many more. Of course, there are also people that identify solely as loveless in the same way someone who is non-SAM would. All of these are important experiences and deserve their time in your writing or artwork.

Common Questions and Hypotheticals

[PT: Common Questions and Hypotheticals]

Q: How do I write a loveless character without making a manifesto’s worth of explanations?

[PT: Q: How do I write a loveless character without making a manifesto’s worth of explanations?]

You should write a person first is the simple answer! Your character has opinions, experiences, and a way of speaking I can’t predict for the purposes of this post. How they interact with the world and their unique perspective will influence how they describe their own identity, or how little they talk about it in general. Although, I can throw a bit of a bone, and bring up two of my own loveless characters for examples of what this can look like:

X Goldfinch is a teenager, someone who is relatively online, and due to their angel status has the language to describe their experiences.They are a person who identifies as loveless because they do not feel any love whatsoever. They would directly call themself a loveless aroace, and describe this as an emotion they’re just never experienced or felt. It is very direct, succinct, and uses modern language to do this.

O’Leary is an alien that is entirely emotionless, with no attachments whatsoever and no concept of human standards of emotions or their identity labels. Due to this, he would describe himself simply as detached, as this is what most species would view him as. He would not give further information, nor would he use the labels a person would recognise, but the experience is identifiable through similarity.

These are two different experiences within the same realm (not feeling any love at all), with two different ways of describing or identifying with those feelings. These are some of the considerations to keep in mind. As for how to describe it in a narrative sense, simple!

Trust your audience gets it. You can explain, simply, why this character is loveless if you like, or simply mention they are loveless as part of a character introduction. Cut the justification, just let it be and explain as much as is narratively cohesive. Sometimes, that is just saying the word and reinforcing it later. Other times, it’s a first person exploration that can go on for a few paragraphs. It’s situational, but I promise, cutting the fat of needing to assure your audience understands this doesn’t make them a hideous monster (if it isn’t plot relevant) will make for much less to chew on.

Q: What about social connections for my characters? What can I use?

[PT: Q: What about social connections for my characters? What can I use?]

Anything. Everything. Social tolerance and relationship tolerance varies immensely. However, do want to note this is not an excuse to see this question as ignorable. Think about what your character would prefer, and remember a solitary lifestyle is not necessarily a tragic one. We don’t tolerate discrediting any loveless experience as “too loving to count”, but we also don’t tolerate using this as an excuse to avoid writing social repulsion. Nuance, nuance.

Q: Writing a loveless person in a relationship is okay, sure, but how do I actually do that respectfully? What about a loveless parent?

[PT: Q: Writing a loveless person in a relationship is okay, sure, but how do I actually do that respectfully? What about a loveless parent?]

I include this because I have been asked in the past about what a loveless parent would do for a child, and the simple answer is to kill the idea in your head that lack of love necessitates a worse relationship. There are plenty of reasons someone may enter or exit a relationship, loving that person or otherwise. Overall, keep in mind that love is not the only emotion a person can feel, and neither is care. You may feel positively toward someone or simply want to keep them around because you enjoy them. You may have just always wanted a partner, and have found one that is accepting of your love being one sided, or potentially have a loveless partner that is interested in a loveless relationship of some kind (we need more of these, honestly). While most people can get behind this concept from other aspec dynamics, there is still the question of the major sticking point: parenthood.

While not easy to answer, I see it as this: love is taught. It, as a concept, is not innate. The emotion is, the feeling is, but not love as a word, as an expectation. If you teach a child love is their value solely to deprive them of it, that is abject cruelty. However, assuming a loveless parent would introduce love simply to take it away from their child is anti-loveless rhetoric. It’s assuming an immediate abuse situation where there does not need to be one. The simple fact is, if you want a healthy child as a loveless person, you simply raise them that they have more value outside of being loved, that you are invested in their wellbeing, hobbies, and feelings, and that you will be there for them regardless. Love discussions can come when the child is older, but there is no harm in being a no love household if that child is aware they are safe, supported, and able to rely on you as any child should be able to.

Simple answer, you can work around love pretty easily, it’s just that most people have no interest in teaching this to you, especially for innate loves. There’s pathways through all of this that are, again, just fine. However, this isn’t to say you can only write a character that has it all figured out. A loveless parent struggling at first with their plan of action for a new baby or adopted family member, or a loveless partner trying to express their feelings without setting off their love repulsion, are all interesting facets to explore. The solution is not sanitization, but thoughtfulness and sincerity, as well as not demonising this confusion or testing period.

Q: What about nonhuman characters, I hear a lot of people are tired of those?

[PT: Q: What about nonhuman characters, I hear a lot of people are tired of those?]

Some, yes! I, personally, relate most to nonhuman characters, mostly because someone is always trying to force love normativity onto them and if that isn’t my day to day life, I don’t know what is. Is it okay to do, as in, is it morally right to only make human loveless characters? Personally, as long as you are conscious, getting second opinions along the way, and watching your bias (as well as not making all your loveless characters nonhumans), I don’t see an issue with the concept itself. It is often the execution, with the undercurrent that these other species are backwards, limited, or never measuring up to humans due to their lovelessness (see: every tragic robot character ever) that will create controversy at your door. If you are solely focused on the nonhuman part, and not the messaging, you’re missing the point by a mile.

Q: What should I not do? What should be avoided?

[PT: Q: What should I not do? What should be avoided?]

The least easy to answer question, which is why I have dedicated an entire section to tired tropes, salvageable stereotypes, and the impact of a limited scope. Of course, all of this is subject to debate, and you are unlikely to get the same answer twice when asking opinions on some of these things. Personally, I think you should ask anyway. Not to get the answer you like best, but to understand why opinion varies so much. If you understand the roots, you can form a consensus much easier than tallying your responses for yes and no.

Let’s get into the divisive section!

The Stereotype Shuffle: Reoccuring Cast Members and Their Issues

[PT: The Stereotype Shuffle: Reoccuring Cast Members and Their Issues]

#1: The Mean Hermit

The hermit is so pissed off by society and all their snuggling, cuddling, loving, and singing, he has decided to isolate himself from the world at large, and retreat to his barren cave, wooden cabin, or otherwise sullen hovel to bask in his hate and misery for all eternity. The love grinch, as one could call him, is a staple of the friendship is magic or love triumph all storyline, where he either must be remedied and healed from what has broken him so he may love again, or be defeated and driven away further. He may serve to steer the protagonist wrong, or make him question his beliefs and their foundations.

Do I have a soft spot for this blatant stereotype? Perhaps. It does not diffuse the harm it is capable of, however. While I think the idea of a loveless character living alone in a swamp is conceptually awesome, what follows is a discussion of the politics surrounding the lonely hermit. He is often billed as broken, or a figure that should not be listened to; he is a corruptor, an agent of doubt and tragedy. If you plan on making your loveless character as detached as he is, there’s a few ways to go about tackling this.

Is he angry because he is annoyed, or because of some innate jealousy and hatred of joy? It’s not necessarily bad to indulge in the hater lifestyle, but as a loving writer, you should question why your thoughts lead you to a loveless person existing to create misery and discord for others. Why must he be an agitator, or one that needs to be so heavily silenced? What critiques could he actually be making beyond hating ponies and cupcakes and birthday hats? If you plan to write a plain, hateful guy, he better not be the only representation in your story, and the other representation better not be looking to the camera to say “hey, at least I’m not like this guy!”. Using the mean hermit to push how your other characters are more normal or acceptable because they are more accepting of the status quo is lazy at best and anti-loveless at worst. Let a guy hate, or make him into an actual important character beyond the test of faith; after all, if he’s testing faith, does that faith happen to be love normative?

There is also the Occam’s Razor of simply having a character be happy to be alone, or exploring the nuance between jealousy and what a person can and cannot have. Personally, I would never recommend the latter for your first outing. Loving people too often ride the line and fall on the side of a trope I will get into later. There’s a difference between a loveless person writing from experience of their shame journey, and a loving person doing so because it is the only way they can think of making a character sympathetic.

#2: The Villain, or Big Bad

She’s evil, she’s a terror, and she’s a loveless aplatonic! Shock and terror course over the crowd as they slowly realise she is childless, partnerless, and prefers a nonfriending lifestyle! But, what’s this on the horizon? It is the writer, coming with an editorial note, specifying her lovelessness is separate from her awesome, evil abilities! All good then, right?

Well, maybe! It depends on your narrative and your placement of loveless characters overall. Even if it has nothing to do with her villainy at hand, perhaps she is seeking to destroy all apples or something because she cannot stand them, for example, is her villainy still rooted in loveless antagonism? Is her heart of coal listed as a reason she cannot be redeemed, her separation from the world a sign of her wickedness? Or, does this make up a regular facet of her life that the heroes don’t really have an interest in? Perhaps the main characters are loveless as well, or part of their adventuring crew is. Perhaps, she is a commentary on how society drives the loveless to anger and then recoils when they lash out, representing a loveless person embracing the monster they are made into. Perhaps, she is as redeemable as any other villain, with her lovelessness not impeding this process. Perhaps you are writing a comedy, and her loveless life comes up in a side gag about her continuing to live while she waits for the arrival of the hero at her castle.

Overall, the loveless villain is overplayed, yes, but I don’t think it’s doomed to be a dud when put in the right hands. With this particular situation, I would recommend asking plenty of questions, assuring you understand your narratives and themes, and watching for undercurrents that can shape your intentions. Take any advice or criticism you get in stride; while some may be perfectly fine with this setup, many other loveless people are bracing for the worst, or may not trust you to execute. Go forward with this in mind.

#3: The Sympathy Vehicle, aka the Loveless Pain Parade

God, this one. I hate this one. There’s your bias disclaimer; there is nothing I hate more, no trope I detest seeing more in the manuscript of a loveless person, than the disaster that is the sopping pile of wet loveless antagonism within the Sympathy Vehicle.

This character is sad. This character is really, really sad. They hate being loveless, they hate themself, and they want you to know this every time the topic is brought up. They exist to be a repentant figure, something for loving characters to feel good about saving, or inspiration porn for the loving consumer about how even the loveless can beat the odds.

This is, unfortunately, one of the most common, unintentionally bigoted takes I see all the time from well-meaning loving creators who think they are doing us a favour with this being their only representation. To clarify, this experience of heartbreak is real, it should be represented, but it should also be done respectfully, delicately, and with a loveless person on board. None of this is present in the Sympathy Vehicle. They exist to be saved from themself, to cry to the audience about how horrid being loveless is, and to act as an unrelenting expression of loveless pain only solvable by a doting, loving character. The Sympathy Vehicle does not find community, go on a journey of self acceptance, or even truly get through their crisis. All of it relies on a loving society counting them as an exception, as fitting within the loving mould, and all so a loving audience can feel better at the end. None of this is done in the service of catharsis for a loveless audience, or truly exploring what causes these experiences in the first place. In fact, the Sympathy vehicle often exists in settings, dynamics, or societies where other nuances of love are completely acceptable or normalised, even encouraged to explore. So, here is my question.

Why does your fictional society hate loveless people? Why does your fictional small circle, your fictional small neighbourhood, your fictional forum or internet community? Who is teaching the Sympathy Vehicle they are wrong or monstrous, and why is nobody challenging this in your accepting circle? Why does nobody discuss it? Why are they left to wallow alone and forgotten? Why, in your utopic scenarios, must the loveless still suffer? Why was your first thought writing a loveless character to put them in a world that has taught them only hatred, rejection, and malice, when all your other characters can find peace?

There’s a reason I solely trust loveless people to write about this, or to draw from their own experiences. Sorry if you don’t like this take, but it’s where I lie on it after seeing dozens after dozens of loveless headcanons, original characters, and narratives solely centred on selling lovelessness to be gawked at and never comforted.

#4: The Apathetic/The Snarker

Ah, the gay best friend of the aspec community, it’s good to see you again. Hopefully I do not need to explain why making your loveless character a sidekick to subject the main romance or friendship to while solely making quippy remarks or giving relationship advice is a bad idea. Ultimately, having a snarky, sassy loveless character is not the issue, but reducing them to essentially be a windup doll for the loving cast is. We’re more than a punchline or cutaway gag to do your “get a load of them!” bits with.

#5: The ‘Stereotype Defier’

Annoying, but brief, this character solely exists to be the counterbalance. They have no character outside of being perfect, acceptable, and enjoyable. Palatable is the Defier’s middle name, albeit one of many, the others being “don’t cancel me, I made a good one”. If you see the advice to not limit your loveless characters to stereotypes, and your first response is to make this guy, scrap the whole thing/ You’ve severely misunderstood. The problem is not the presence, but the standard. Making a character solely so you won’t get a callout post does not make you accepting, it just shows you took away the wrong message and did not understand what you were taking in. Please, please write a character to be a character, not “another one” to stand around do-gooding.

#6: The Under-researched Cultural Experience

This one will upset certain people, but I’m here to tell you this with no frills: why are all your loveless characters so American, specifically white American? This character has only ever looked at it from a USAmerican perspective, all of their experiences line up with those norms, but the written character is from a country or culture where these norms are entirely different or just nonexistent. What gives?

Well, in my opinion anyway, at least coming from a Canadian, you tend to notice that aspecs from regions such as SWANA, Latin America, South Asia, and even from certain communities in the US, such as diaspora and African American communities, entirely have their necks stepped on. There is plenty you can find on experiences with romance, family and friendship normativity, how the expectations change, and how culture will impact those experiences online. I, personally, can't speak on them; it’s not my story to tell. It’s my task for you to seek out alternative voices so you actually write accurate characters. Do your research before you slap on broad strokes.

Loveless POC and loveless people from around the globe deserve good representation that actually takes cultural considerations in mind.

#7: The Serial Abuser

I’m not entertaining this one. Not happening.

If you make this, do not expect people to take your word or hear you out. If your story is actually a tragic tale of the cycle of abuse, I honestly do not care. This should never be your first outing, and even past this, loving people, do not use this trope. Not for headcanons, not for OCs; there is a level of trust going on, and an expectation of good faith that comes with allowing certain stereotypes to be used. This, however, no matter how smothered in nuance, disclaimers, and loveless pride hashtags, will end poorly. I am not going anti-nuance, or anti-loveless villain, but I am anti-”blatantly bad idea”. Avoid. Do not attempt.

Whuff. Over the controversy hill, onto bigger and better, right? Well, we’re at least into the part that is more discussion-oriented, going over concepts to keep in mind, the main debates around loveless character creation, and why it causes such hesitation.

A Loveless Life: Reality into Fiction

[PT: A Loveless Life: Reality into Fiction]

So, past all the other discussion, really… What IS it like to be loveless? This is not easy to answer succinctly, let alone entirely. While I can lend my own experiences and observations, I cannot speak on behalf of others. There will always be someone who agrees, someone who disagrees, and someone in the middle. However, for the benefit of this post, I will share some personal thoughts, as much as I am comfortable with, anyway.

Lovelessness is often, although not always, living a double life, online and offline. You do not always know who you can trust, who will or who will not judge, and what they will do if they discover this about you. I have known people who have lost friends, had relationships dissolve, or otherwise seen the negative impacts of an unaccepting society meeting a non-conforming individual. However, I have also seen endless grace, patience, and willingness to learn. I have seen people come together as a community to support each other, protect and uplift our own, and speak up for each other. I have seen allies hold the line and refuse to leave us behind in their conversations. For every antagonistic anon, every anti-loveless post, every argument over the status of your identity, and every lost relationship, there is opportunity for growth, betterment, and change.

Loveless life is complicated. In current society, no matter where you go or who you talk to, it will not be easy. There are expectations everywhere, and the world wide web makes people especially vulnerable to attacks they cannot defend or insulate from. Many loveless people from a young age are learning to be defensive first and foremost, or to stay in the closet from their peers. At the same time, many more people are finding the label and their peace with it. Many are willing to fight for that acceptance.

With all this in mind, do I necessarily want this to be emulated in media? Not really. Handling it accurately would be a treat for sure, but at the same time, it is upsetting how in settings for escapist fantasies, the loveless cannot escape these standards. I would like a mix of both, with both accepting situations and the realities of loveless life. This necessitates creating more loveless stories overall, which I am all for. I hope someday I will be able to point every loveless person to a book or TV show with their experience or label in it, proud and happy, even if circumstances are not.

Changing The Narrative: Who’s the Real Inflexible One?

[PT: Changing the Narrative: Who's the Real Inflexible One?]

I think to myself, or talk about it with others pretty often, why are loveless characters so hard to write for loving people? However, it’s my recent thought that this question is flawed, because of one principle component carried with it: the onus is put on the loveless identity for its difficulty. Realising this, I proposed to myself a new question: why do loving people have such a hard time adapting? Why do loving writers and artists struggle to understand so often?

Again, Occam's razor: loveless antagonism, anti-loveless rhetoric, and all other names it goes by, is everywhere. Including, and almost especially, in the aspec community, as well as the loveless community itself. These principle beliefs of what it is to be human, what is normal, what is just and moral, are so ingrained and tied to love, they aren’t even questioned or thought of as ideology. It’s almost as innate as breathing. So, the question of how not to be loveless antagonistic is proposed, seemingly simple and straightforward, but oftentimes never shared in detail. People will reblog posts about spreading kindness, not hate, or appreciating loveless voices, but rarely will they actually take the steps towards not being anti-loveless. So, how do you become flexible? How do you become the solution? I can give you my answer, based on what I would like to see, but there is endless possibility in this question. Recognition of the issue is only step one.

What I would like to see is further reading of loveless perspectives, ideas, theories, and broader acceptance and discussion of these principles. If you want to sit at the adult table, you need to leave your cutlery at the kid’s table. You can’t pick and choose what parts of loveless antagonism still suit you just fine, such as platonormativity, and then agree the rest of it should go. You need to fully let go and embrace that you can be wrong, and you can change. You are not beholden to old opinions, even if they are “community consensus”. This includes, even if it is important to you, recognising love is not necessary, love is not inherently moral, loveless people are all around you, and loveless people are complete as is. And, for all that is holy, stop remixing the question of “what makes us human?” unless it’s for your anthropology final; it’s a silly question, no, it is not love, and trying to find this grand singular answer will lead you in circles. If I hear it one more time the next instance is getting met with a punch.

As well, accept loveless people as peers, not zoo animals. We are not your research project or knowledge dispensary. We are people with lives, and people who get tired. While answering questions isn’t bad, and neither is asking them, respect you are not owed an answer or the time of strangers. We do not need to explain ourselves to you, and if we do, it is a favour. Do not force yourself on people, do not request personal details, do not become one of those people who tags vent posts as “writing reference”.

Overall, show respect, open your ears and eyes, prepare to be wrong. Prepare to screw up and get corrected. Prepare to try again anyways. Prepare for research and put yourself out there. Prepare to let go of the anti-loveless safety blankets.

A Final Disclaimer: “Care” and the Acceptability Crisis

[PT: A Final Disclaimer: "Care" and the Acceptability Crisis]

Care does not equal love.

You’ve likely heard this line a million times, and while it is true, it’s important to remember care isn’t an inherent human trait either, and it should not be treated as a redeeming catalyst for your feel-good twist. Care, just like anything else, is simply an emotion, a way of relating to people. You do not have to care to do good, to be good, or make a positive impact. You do not need anything in you but the want to do a good thing, for whatever reason, to do a good thing.

Breaking the barriers of what makes people inherently worthy, human, and moral, includes removing all emotions as an inherent human qualifier or moral superiority mound, and recognising them as impulses and reactions like anything else. Care is not necessary. Don’t come into my notes with it, last time I’ll talk on it, putting it on the table. Up to you to internalise.

Loveless people need no disclaimers, no frills, no appeasement compromises for loving comfort.

So, What Next?

[PT: So, What's Next?]

I’d recommend reading a few things before you go. It’s a short list, I promise. First off is the principle writing on lovelessness, I Am Not Voldemort by K.A. Cook. You’ll see this essay cited 6 times over for good reason; it's the blueprint of loveless writing. As well, you can check out this post by @loveless-arobee on the same topic as this post for a second opinion discussing a few things I did not cover here/did not go in depth on. As well, check out blogs like his for loveless discussions and thoughts. There's always learning opportunities and ongoing discussions to be found when you look to loveless bloggers.

With all that said, write. Draw. create. Find a passion and use it, and recognise care and love do not make or break an individual. What makes an individual is them being on this Earth, or on your fictional little planet, making their impacts as they go along in life.

What makes humans human? I don’t care.

Thanks for reading!

[adelrambles]

Tips on Writing Bishop

I've been asked a couple times for advice on how to write a good (03-style) Bishop, and I'm well-aware he can be a bit tough to get a grasp on. As someone who's studied him specifically to learn how to write him as accurately as possible, I figured I'd compile some thoughts in case it'd be helpful to anyone else. I know a lot of Rise takes on him are basing off the 03 version, so maybe this could help generate ideas, too. SO!

Big Overall Points!

At the core of EVERYTHING Bishop does are two primary motivations. The first: the protection of the earth. What this means to him can get tricky, because it doesn't necessarily mean protecting the people, at least not all of them. But it will be better understood alongside the other:

The second: The protection of his sense of safety. Bishop has been deeply traumatized, and everything he does is born of a want to avoid that pain ever again. In his mind, earth is a safe area, a controllable factor, and anything outside it is a danger that must be eliminated. This is why he will still be willing to put himself and other people on the line in service of this; any sacrifice is worth the greater goal. (It's worth noting, Bishop will claim the first as his motivation freely, but is likely not consciously aware of the second.)

Bishop deals in Big Picture ONLY. Another reason Bishop will willingly throw away anything, including the lives of the people he claims to protect, is that he seems incapable of understanding things on a small, individual basis.

Bishop is a cold personality. He does not have strong displays of emotion. He does emote, but for the most part it's muted, so I recommend using emotional bursts very sparingly. (In my own writing, as an example, I try to limit my use of exclamation marks in his dialogue as much as possible.)

At his core, Bishop is afraid, and his response to fear is aggression. This also makes it particularly difficult to talk him down, if he's put in an emotional state. His response to not being in control is often violent retaliation.

With those basic tenants understood, let's move next to some major personality traits:

Bishop is a controlling personality. This is a direct result of his trauma response. Things that can be controlled are safe, therefore he must control everything. If something cannot be controlled, it's a threat that must be eliminated. If he doesn't know why something happened, he becomes angry (including even when it benefits him.)

Bishop is very low-empathy. When writing him, I try to keep in mind that he cannot put himself in the perspective of others. (Or if he can, he doesn't care to.)

Bishop is a sadist. He gets personal enjoyment from hurting others.

Bishop likes fighting, but only when he's winning. He will quickly leave if he can't see a guaranteed victory.

Bishop is paranoid. This is probably self-evident, but it's the reason he's often so well-prepared even when things don't go to plan.

Bishop genuinely seems to enjoy science. He's shown to be far more lenient with scientist characters than anyone else, and he seems to involve himself in his scientists' projects to a degree. Enough to, at the very least, understand their work. (Given he was the one set to dissect the turtles, it might also be argued he has some medical or biology background, himself.)

Bishop is an opportunist and scavenger. He can roll with failures as long as he can find something to get out of it. If he's presented with an opportunity to stab someone in the back, and he has something to gain? He'll take it without a second thought.

Bishop is deeply self-blind. For all his perceptiveness and strategic prowess, Bishop is not very self-aware in the slightest. He is completely blind to his own hypocrisies, and thoroughly confident in his own righteousness.

Bishop adapts fast. He accepts situations for what they are and acts (Though he may still be angry about them, or what have you.) This is likely a skill developed via longevity; the world around him has changed rapidly, but he doesn't feel out of place at all.

Bishop will take extreme risks and thinks wildly outside the box. Also self-evident, if you're familiar with the plans he enacts throughout the show. He'll put a lot on the line if he thinks the reward is worth enough, and he's willing to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants, even if his plans would be considered crazy by normal standards.

Bishop is persistent. If he wants something, he won't stop until he gets it. If he fails, he'll retreat, make a new plan, and try again. It is very difficult to convince him to back down (and certainly not on moral grounds.)

Habits and triggers I've noted:

Being restrained of any sort puts Bishop in a panic. He is more likely to have an emotional response in these scenarios, and seems to have (an albeit muted) desperation to escape. (See: Leatherhead restraining him in the first encounter; His reaction to being trapped on the surgical table in Head of State.)

When being duplicitous or suppressing a reaction, Bishop will go to adjust his tie. This could possibly be considered his tell.

Bishop seems to have a particular fear of aliens blending in as humans. His slayer project was built around the assumption that this is a common threat. (Worth noting: This makes The Shredder the model of the exact threat Bishop is afraid of. Technically, Bishop himself may also fit the description of a threat shaped like a human.)

Writing considerations:

In 03's narrative, Bishop is EPF and EPF is Bishop. Narratively speaking, any organization Bishop is head of acts as if it is an extension of his will and character.

Bishop is shown to strike fear and/or discomfort into most characters he interacts with. Anything beyond this is an outlier, and will draw a reader's attention.

Dialogue-wise, Bishop is generally succinct and blunt. He does dabble in gloating, though, and especially likes to upset others. If he's given a chance to be mean, he'll usually take it. It can help to consider he has a Mission Mode and a Normal Mode. When it comes to Mission Mode, he gets straight to the point and hates unnecessary talking. Otherwise, he's still not very talkative, but will take the time to make pointed jabs or talk through a plan. A lot of his sense of humor seems to be rooted in how He's Better Than You (And You're Going To Die Painfully.)

It's a common pitfall that Bishop is depicted as seeking out the turtles. In 03, once he gets their DNA, he's done with them. Any encounters after that are incidental. Bishop does not care about anything that won't effect his greater goal. If he's targeting another character, it should have to do with a greater plan.

Bishop is an extremely competent combatant, shown to be able to handle up to 7 opponents at once. For a breakdown on his fighting style check out my other post on that!

Bishop is hard to kill, and oftentimes he accidentally contributes to his own defeat. (The hook from Bishop's Gambit is an example I get a LOT of mileage out of, as a perfect symbol of his self-defeating prophecies.)

We almost only ever see Bishop in the context of his work. While it could be construed that he depersonalizes himself, it's much more clear that the narrative depersonalizes him. As far as we, the audience know, Bishop's work is all that he is.

It's unclear if Bishop was released from his abduction or escaped. Depending on which you ascribe to, this can have ramifications for his mindset on how to deal with the alien threat. (Personally, because so much of his inability to cope hinges on a feeling of helplessness, I believe he was released. If he escaped on his own power, that undercuts it, somewhat.)

Thematically-speaking, Bishop parallels both his own torturers and his own victims at the same time. He has perpetuated the cycle that traumatized him in the first place by trying to fight fire with fire. (In that vein, I don't think he's capable of understanding that, not seeing aliens as people in the first place, just dangers. Considering how deeply ingrained his trauma is in his worldview and actions, it would probably ruin him, if he were ever able to actually grasp it.)

Bishop and EPF are likely a commentary on the military of the time 03 was coming out. This can be something worth keeping in mind, when figuring out his greater themes in your story, though it can just as well be discarded if it doesn't fit.

Adding to that, Bishop has an extensive american military background. His skills and knowledge will reflect that.

Bishop also plays on and references a number of real-life alien conspiracies. It can be worth digging through conspiracy history to drum up ideas and themes, too.

The ethical and philosophical quandaries of Bishop's body-hopping and humanity tend to not hold too much weight, because Bishop, himself, doesn't seem to care.

If I think of more I'll certainly be adding on to the reblogs of this post! Or, if you have more thoughts, please feel free to add! If you're in the mood for more Bishop ramblings, that's practically most of this blog atm, but this post is a particular favorite. If you're interested in Fast Forward!Bishop, specifically, consider this post! (also read Taking Pawns. slipped in that self-promo, nice.)

[liillyliilly]

His Diary

akaashi keiji x reader words; 10082 synopsis; For Akaashi Keiji, love meant letting someone know him better than he knew himself. It also meant being okay with letting her read his diary.

She decided that this was her new favorite book. It had all the right amounts of everything in it, drama, romance, depression, self-loathing. The journal she found was likely never written to be read. The journal he lost, the journal that Akaashi Keiji misplaced on a train going home from his editing job, he never expected to become a crux in his journey to love.

In all honesty, she didn’t even know it was a journal. It just seemed to be an episodic novel with a unique font, something along the vein of The Perks of Being A Wallflower. She only ever knew the leather-bound pages as a novel with no name. The author used a first-person perspective when writing and told the story of a young volleyball player who wanted desperately to find a passion, so he surrounded himself with others who had passion. What he seemed to enjoy more than playing the sport was writing though.

The author of the untitled book loved to read because the way he wrote made everything else she had read pale in comparison to the inky brilliance. He had captured teenager-dom with such sleight of hand that she believed his writing was made of magic and fairy dust. The story made her cry, made her groan, and made her feel second-hand embarrassment to an extreme she thought wasn’t possible.

When she read the first chapter, she realized she ought to pace her reading, because there were only so many entries. And she had no way of contacting or looking up the author, there was no information of who the author was on the back of the book. There was a Fukurodani Sticker, a school she remembers from her own time at a high school nearby, they were known for their volleyball skills and prowess, so she assumed maybe the author had some lived experience when it came to volleyball. Maybe that was a hobby aside from being a writer of such compelling stories.

She carried it everywhere from the day she picked it up on the floor of the train, it was always in her backpack, purse, and suitcase. She never left it alone, it had become a part of her. She felt like somehow this author reached into her heart and left fingerprints of his making into permanent fixtures of her anatomical structure. DATE: XX-XX-2013 TITLE: Alethiology; The Study of Truth

Today I realized that maybe I am all that I will be. My capacity has limits in comparison to others. A friend of a friend told me that their volleyball captain made a speech once, not to the whole team, just talking with buddies. His speech, or at least the parts I remember from it, was devastating. He said something like guys like Atsumu and all those geniuses, do things on a scale of 1-20, whereas normal guys like me do things on a scale of 1-10. Or maybe they have a denser more compact 1-10. And if 1-20 doesn’t work out, they try things from A to Z.

I’ve never thought of things like that. There’s always been a straightforward path for me, whereas, in comparison to Bokuto, he seems to have a much longer and more complex route ahead of him. Am I all that I will be? Is there a way for the normal guy to switch from 1-10 and try 1-20?

We have another game soon, maybe I can control more than I expect. Is flight into this world of geniuses possible? I can only control myself and my thoughts, but maybe there are external factors that contribute to my role on this team. My role in life as well.

Bokuto is asking for me, I need to go. Hope I can write again soon, but with all the games we’ll be playing I’m doubtful I can write with actual thoughts and not just tallies and plays from the games.

- A.K.

“I mean, who thinks of things like that Miwa?” She sits in the styling chair, getting a refresher on her hair. Miwa snips away lightly, inspecting each strand with duty and consideration for the entire look.

“Your author crush does.” Miwa brushes away some hair from Y/N’s shoulders, tidying up the apron wrapped around her.

She just rolls her eyes at Miwa’s comment. Flipping to the page in the book, tracing a finger over the deep black gel pen markings. Numbers and dashes and names of high schools against Fukurodani tell the story of the adventure at Tokyo’s national volleyball tournament from way back in 2013. She had barely started her second year of middle school in 2013, ripely being 14 years old.

Miwa and her sip some freshly made smoothies of Miwa’s creation, sitting at a table in the window of the entrance to the salon. Miwa bounces her foot that’s crossed over her leg and she pours over the entry once again. It was becoming addicting to choose one entry to re-read until she ingrained the stylistic choices into a deep long-term memory.

At that same moment, Bokuto Koutarou and his best friend Akaashi Keiji walk past Miwa’s Salon, attempting to plan a group hangout to celebrate Bokuto joining the MSBY Black Jackals team.

“I’ll need to make sure Konoha comes, and that he brings that cute friend of his for you,” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows repeatedly, and Akaashi shoves him lightly on the shoulder.

“Konoha is dating that cute girl he brings around.” Akaashi clarifies. Bokuto looks stunned, but then he remembers them making out on his couch during movie night that one time.

Akaashi looks around the street for a moment, peeking into the windows and observing the various occupants. When he sees his journal, the one that’s been missing for a little over a year, he just has to get it back.

When Akaashi pulls Bokuto into the hair salon, and barely below a scream says, “You stole my journal!” pointing at the girl who was indeed holding his journal from high school, Bokuto feels like his head was put through a blender. There were three very distinct things occurring at that moment. A pretty girl was shoving a book into her bag looking very defensive, Akaashi was trying to take the aforementioned girl’s bag from her, and a girl who he assumed was the pretty girl’s friend had a pair of scissors pointing at Bokuto by the throat.

Akaashi was still trying to pull the bag away, the pretty girl was looking extremely scared, and the scissors girl had opened and closed them one too many times for Bokuto’s comfort.

“Listen, I think we should all just take a moment to pause.” Bokuto held his hands up, shuffling to outturn his pockets in a show of lack of violent intentions. The black-haired girl puts the scissors back into her half apron that’s around her waist and then folds her arms.

Bokuto then pries Akaashi away from the pretty girl who was now clutching her bag against her chest and sniffling a little. Akaashi did feel bad that he made such a bad first impression, but he swore she had his journal. His embarrassing high school journal, the same journal that had cataloged many things he wished he never had recorded down on paper.

Bokuto pushes Akaashi’s head down, forcing him into a deep bow. Bokuto follows suit and also bows.

“I’m sorry for, uh, trying to steal your bag. But I think you may have a book, that isn’t a book at all, but rather my journal.” Akaashi is now sitting at the table in the window, Bokuto, the black-haired girl, and the pretty girl also sitting with him.

Outside the evening had quickly set in, with the orange and pink colors racing to get to the skyline. The blue began to fade into a deep dark navy color. And the lights on the streets began to flicker on. The lights on the outside of the salon began to twinkle from the setting they had been placed on, fairy lights luring those with a need for a haircut into the salon.

Bokuto had his head on his hand, staring intensely at the girl who had taken Akaashi’s journal, sighing slightly at the way her lips pouted and shined from her lip gloss. The girl with the scissors had brought out two more glasses of thick smoothie.

She pulled out the journal from her Doughnut Macaroon-style crossbody bag and slid it over to Akaashi. Akaashi flipped through the pages, immediately recognizing it as his. His face goes red and he readjusts his glasses, and she realizes that this must be his journal. He even goes straight to the back cover and smiles at the sticker she had grown to love to trace with her pinkie when reading.

“I’m not done with it yet, so, I really do hate to say this, but you can’t have it back until I finish it.” She takes the book back and tucks it into her bag again. Akaashi looks dumbfounded, eyebrows raised and lips pursed into a line.

“You’re just going to keep private property? Even though you know it’s mine?” What a dauntless woman she was, to show what Akaashi considered to be audacity with the whole journal situation.

Bokuto chimes in at this point, “Akaashi, I think we should just let the pretty girl keep your little diary.” Bokuto then starts nodding his head up and down to try and get agreement from Akaashi. Akaashi scoffs.

“Okay, so it’s settled, my cutie of a best friend will keep the journal until she finishes it, we’ll get your numbers and she can contact y’all when she finishes the journal, and I get to cut both of y’all’s hair because honestly, it’s atrocious.” Leave it to Miwa to consolidate a plan in a matter of moments.

Miwa touched the spiky salt and pepper hair that Bokuto had, and Miwa’s expression turned sour when she felt the amount of gel on top of his head, then Miwa pulled out a photo of Yuki Ishikawa in a two-block cut and explained what color of black dye Miwa will use for Bokuto. For Akaashi, Miwa just did a trim and tidied up his sides to bring them slightly tighter into his face.

While annoyed, Akaashi does give her his number, along with his name, and Bokuto does the same with much more enthusiasm. After the haircuts are finished, Akaashi tries to pull Bokuto away from the salon, but Bokuto keeps doing the ‘call me later’ signal with his hand and blowing a kiss to her wistfully. She just waves to the both of them while Miwa giggles behind her dye-stained glove. DATE: XX-XX-13 TITLE: Meraki; Putting A Piece of Yourself Into Your Passion

I am the protagonist of the world. We lost but I am still alive, we lost but I loved the game. I came to the realization that it doesn’t matter if you are the best character, the most complex, or the most ‘genius’ of them all. It doesn’t matter because I am the protagonist. I can be the hero of my own story without ever having won first place in a big-name tournament.

Bokuto is graduating, and I’ll still be here, which is disappointing. He’s my best friend I think. Even if he’s the most annoying ass I’ve ever met, he’s still my best friend and I would never trade him for any other person in the entire world. Together we are the protagonists of the world.

Second place is just as accoladed as first place. If I wasn’t who I am, then maybe I would’ve gotten mad. The first-place winner is a rich school, they’ve been a powerhouse for decades at this point, and this win is just another notch on the belt. If I wasn’t who I am, especially after this tournament, maybe I would’ve gotten frustrated at myself for not doing enough. For not being a setter like Kageyama. Or a setter like Oikawa. That doesn’t matter though, I am a setter. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. But a human mind will always wonder why. And sometimes it's just because you’re unlucky.

Kenma told me about his loss to Karasuno, his sweaty hands made the ball slip in the final point. He laughed about it, he said that that was the best game of volleyball he’s ever played. When Kenma told Kuroo thanks for teaching him volleyball, I cried, but not as much as Kuroo did. They remind me of why I went to Fukurodani. I saw Bokuto’s passion for the sport. His passion encouraged mine, and look where we got to. We because the victors at the end of the war.

Mom made katsu chicken for dinner, I did some homework, and I had to put away my volleyball uniform for next year. I practiced in my backyard, alternating between overhead and underhand passes, seeing how long I could go without dropping the ball. Dad called me into the house for ice cream after thirty minutes elapsed.

I called Bokuto tonight before I went to bed. Told him that he’s my best friend and that I love volleyball. Bokuto agreed.

- A.K.

She was crying, and so she held the book out in front of her, resting it on her blanket. She finally had some faces to match with the words she was reading, and it all felt much too real. Bokuto did seem like the type of person to adopt and bring a person like Akaashi into his fold. But the way that Akaashi genuinely admired and appreciated his best friend was unparalleled and she felt like he would understand the exact way she felt about her best friend, Miwa.

Miwa and her met when she was fresh out of college. She hadn’t an idea of what to do in her life, while Miwa seemed to have her passion set out in front of her with her hair and makeup salon. When she got a haircut from Miwa and started ranting about her life, Miwa just told her to slow everything down. Take a gap year from life and just be a human. So, she picked up shifts at Miwa’s salon and moved in with her.

The best friends slowly became business partners as well, and an expansion to the salon was added, a small specialty bookshop that she ran, while Miwa continued to do hairstyling. Their customers were dedicated and loved to support their business. Branding remained solely under Miwa’s name, but she became everything else to the brand as well, the little addition that made the salon extra special.

When she started to cough a little from the way her heart was beating erratically from crying about Akaashi’s diary, she had to get out of bed and get a glass of water. Akaashi’s number was resting on her kitchen table. Miwa was watching some rom-com in the living room of their shared apartment. She brushed pasted the kitchen and sat next to Miwa.

“A good chapter?” Miwa threw a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“He’s devastating. Who writes like they feel every emotion entirely?” She started crying again and Miwa laughed a little before rubbing her best friend’s back.

“You could always call him and tell him he’s a good writer if you need to talk about it. Sure it’s unconventional, but maybe he has more insights that you can cry to.” She grabbed a pillow and started hitting Miwa with it.

She did take Akaashi’s number into her room on her way back to bed though. Leaving the series of digits on her bedside table, she re-read the passage and cried again. She thinks she knows him better than most, but they aren’t even friends.

Since realizing he’s a person, and that Akaashi lived this story in the book. The story of his life recorded in his journal, she starts to wonder about what happened to him after he stopped writing in the diary. But she hasn’t finished the story yet, so she’ll have to see what happens next. Again, trying to pace herself, she puts the book away until tomorrow when she can read a little more.

Akaashi sits in his office, he’s still there and it’s much later than the clock would like to admit. The clock wondered if Akaashi would ever go home. But there he was, reviewing the different styles of manga serializations Udai Tenma wanted to try out for his next series. His haircut makes him feel a little colder because now the air can hit right behind his ear instead of being covered with his hair. He puts on a beanie to fight the chill.

When it gets too late at night, his mind tends to wander slightly. Just barely drifting out of his control, like the way a lily pad will drift to the center of a pond when the stem at the base of the connection is severed. He can’t dive into the pond to bring his thoughts back into his hands.

He thinks about her. The girl with his journal. The journal was a cheap 2,500 yen book, but he liked the paper, it was a cold press thicker GSM than most other paper forms. Gel inks went on smoothly to the paper, letting him get more words across by the second than if he was writing with a ballpoint. He remembers that from when he used to write in the journal in high school.

Throwing himself into the back of his seat, he rubs his face, his glasses almost falling off from how he runs his hands up from his chin to his forehead. Setting the glasses on his desk, he spins his chair a little. The clock screams at him, he takes the message from his dedicated clock and grabs his messenger bag.

On the train, he thinks about her again. Instead of getting irritated at how Bokuto essentially gave his journal away to a stranger again, he wonders what her thoughts are. Was his writing any good to warrant such a committed reader? Did she like his journal only because it was funny to read what his dramatic high school self wrote about?

He cringes thinking about all the potential things he wrote down. There’s no direct recollection of what he wrote down exactly, but he knows vaguely what was on his mind when he was writing. His ego, his insecurities, his favorite things. Lots about volleyball, Bokuto, and books. Once he wrote about his thoughts on sex, which is embarrassing for him that a grown woman is reading his teenage idealizations of intimacy.

It could be considered something unique to read. Akaashi settled into the belief that she was merely reading his journal because it was something different than typical books that were being published. Although, why she was reading his journal instead of a Haruki Murakami book was beyond him. Nothing beats his favorite literary giant.

Setting his bag on the coat hanger stand, and shrugging out of his long pea coat. He heats some stovetop ramen while listening to Bokuto talk over the phone, he was ranting about the same girl that Akaashi had had on his mind.

“Oh and those eyes of hers. Did you see them?” Of course, Akaashi saw them, they were big, bright, and astute. Akaashi hums in response, and Bokuto continues barreling through his late-night thoughts.

“I think we should invite her to my party. You know, the one to celebrate my big accomplishment.” In a different apartment, Bokuto spins a volleyball on his finger, but he keeps dropping it so he ends up just repeatedly tossing it into the air so he can satiate the desire to feel his fingers on the ball.

“Yeah, how about no.”

Bokuto asks why not, almost in a whining tone.

“Did you forget she has my journal still?” Akaashi put his bowl in the sink, putting on rubber gloves as he started to wash out the dish and then put it on the drying rack. He decided to finish all his dishes right now anyway since he still had the gloves on.

“Your diary can’t be that juicy, you didn’t do anything too dramatic in high school. Plus I know you wanna see her again too. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a piqued interest. Also, did I use piqued right?”

“You used it right, yes.”

He eventually agreed to let Bokuto invite her to the small get-together. Akaashi didn’t know why Bokuto kept referring to it as a party.

A week later, Akaashi realized that maybe Bokuto kept calling it a party because it had shifted from a friends-only gathering to a huge party at the park. Some other Fukurodani alumni helped to set up decorations in the central gazebo and make banners to hang all over the pavilion. Akaashi was mixing the punch at a table, while Konoha asked what he had been up to lately.

Kuroo and Kenma brought huge gifts for Bokuto, a PlayStation from Kenma, and a packet of potential sponsorship deals from Kuroo.

When she finally made her way to the pavilion with a small brown package, Akaashi couldn't care less about the party. She was wearing a tight-fitting black shirt with a tiered white and gold skirt, and her shoes were a pair of sneakers, but the whole outfit made Akaashi concede to Bokuto’s claim of her being “drool-worthy”. He had to remember that this was the same woman who had his diary. The whole conflict between physical attraction and mental frustration made for an entirely convoluted reaction to her presence.

She bows politely to Bokuto when he goes over to her, offering the gift with both hands, only then did Akaashi wonder how old she must have been. Bokuto had been talking to her more than him, and Bokuto had mentioned that she was a second-year middle schooler when Bokuto was in his third year. Akaashi did some mental math and realized that he, himself, must have been around three to four years older than her.

Akaashi forced himself to ignore the idea of a cute younger girlfriend that started to pester him in the back of his mind. He wanted his journal back, and that’s all this relationship was to him, a mutual exchange of her reading and then him eventually getting back his property. But with the way she had done her hair, Akaashi had a hard time focusing solely on wanting his diary returned.

She was glad that Bokuto appreciated the gift, she hadn’t known him longer than a week or so, and she had gone with a safe gift based on what she knew about him and why this party was even being thrown. She got him a wearable jump monitor that her dad had bought a month ago but never used, she was grateful for having a father who never threw things away. She also included some stickers that she had bought from a small sticker shop online, and some that she had made using Miwa’s craft supplies.

When the excitement of her being at the park died down, she made her way to a table, with a small plate of desserts. She observed how everyone interacted with each other, almost as if they had been friends since the dawn of time, and she believed that that very well might have been the case.

Akaashi stalked her from afar. He appreciated that she was similar to him in a way that mattered to him, she was a watcher. She would assess what was going on, who would talk to who, and how they would nonverbally communicate as well. He got so engrossed in watching her that he neglected to observe the others as well.

Specifically, Konoha, Washio, and Komi had grabbed a water cooler and had the full intention of dumping the water on Akaashi. It was payback for declining their invitations to various other parties from the last year. So there he was, not only soaked through with water but revealed from his vantage point unmistakably indicating to her that he must have been watching her. She laughed a little at the antics but then brought over a small cloth she had in her crossbody bag.

His white shirt was completely transparent, and his brown slacks had turned from a regular light brown into a dark musty brown. The only way to resolve the issue in her mind was to start dabbing at his chest with her handkerchief.

“I see that your friends have a peculiar method of exacting humor.” Her handkerchief eventually was too soaked through that she was just touching his chest with a cloth that had performed osmosis and was now at equilibrium with the water on his shirt.

“Yep.”

“Look, there’s a hoodie in my car, I know we aren’t too close, but it’s probably better to wear my oversized hoodie than to have your whole torso on display for the rest of the night.” She shoves her thumb in the direction of her car.

After making their way to her car, she digs through the trunk and pulls out a grey hoodie with the words ‘Miwa’s Salon’ embroidered on the back. He tugs at the back of his shirt to take it off and she widens her eyes before turning around. The hoodie is comfortable, with a soft fleece on the inside, and it smelt like lychee, vanilla, and surprisingly chocolate marshmallows. It smells like her and he wonders if he could have the scent bottled and then sprayed all over his house.

Suddenly he’s tugging at the collar of the hoodie and swallowing thickly, looking around at anything but her figure in front of him.

“We should probably get heading back to everyone now that you’ve changed.” She goes to start walking to the gazebo, but Akaashi’s words stop her.

“How well do you know me?” She tilted her head and said something about not following along with what he was saying, so he continued, “Well, you’re reading a part of me, you know with my journal, my internal thoughts and hopes and dreams and all that. So, how well do you know me?”

She timidly bites down on her bottom lip, formulating a response. But Akaashi surmises that she must not really care much for the conversation, so he, unfortunately, starts to run his mouth and the words just spiral out.

“You know, it doesn’t matter, to you, it’s just a story about a teenage boy who played volleyball. It’s silly to assume you’d try and actually-”

She cuts in, “I know you’re a considerate person. And it's not just about the volleyball stuff, it's about you, finding yourself to some degree. I know you are polite. I know you’re allergic to beating around the bush, you’re direct and blunt. I know that you can overthink too much.”

Akaashi repeatedly adjusted his glasses, and she stepped just a little bit closer to him, folding her hands behind her back and leaning in slightly so she didn’t have to talk as loudly.

“You also have a bad habit of thinking you can control more than you can, one of the interesting things in your journal is how you jump back and forth between knowing what you can control and then inflating from stress and thinking you can micromanage the entire world. You said you can control the court, but in reality, that’s your worldview. You conclude you can control the entire world sometimes.”

He regrets starting the conversation because this revelation of how much she knew about him exposes him. Akaashi didn’t know how to continue with the gap in knowledge between the two of them.

He only knew she was younger than him, she was incredibly perceptive, and she smelled so freaking good he just wanted to shove her into the backseat of her car and kiss her. Akaashi’s thoughts could not have been his own at this point, he was going crazy. He must have gotten sick from the cold water being dumped on him he speculates.

When they get back to the gazebo, Akaashi thanks Bokuto for the party and heads home. She stays at the party, talking to a select few people and wondering what exactly she said that scared Akaashi off so quickly.

Sitting in the tub, Akaashi rests his head against the shower wall and lets the hot water filter his congestion that didn’t exist. His hand twitched over to his phone, which was on the toilet seat playing some piano music that he hoped would alleviate all his bad habits. He wonders if she will text him soon. If she would text him ever. He felt like he was younger, it was ridiculous that one person would have such an effect on him to this degree.

After the party, she sits with Miwa, disclosing everything that happened at the party.

“And then he just ran off?” She nods at Miwa repeating what she just said. “Girlie, you gave him an in-depth review of his personality and you’re shocked that he ran away? Sometimes you can be too judicious for your own good.”

“Should I text him an apology?”

“Are you sorry for anything?” Miwa rolled her eyes, hating when she got like this. Miwa never allowed her to apologize for things that didn’t need to be apologized for.

“No.” She rubs her arm and chews the inside of her cheek.

“I think you think he’s hot, I mean, you understand this man on a deeper level that he now grasps, and you said he had the chest and torso of some kind of slutty librarian/gym rat agglomeration.” Miwa takes a bobby pin out of her hair and runs a hand through her bob cut, “If it was me, I would send him a picture of the journal and ask for nudes, or else the book gets it.”

She hits Miwa with a pillow, and Miwa realizes she really should throw the pillows away or else getting hit with them would be a very painful recurrence.

Miwa goes to sleep, but she stays up just a little later. Eyeing Akaashi’s number that lay painfully glaring at her. She decides to read more of his diary instead of texting him. DATE: XX-XX-13 TITLE: Weltschmerz; Sadness When The World Isn’t As It Should Be

Summer sucks. Bokuto has a training thing for some team he wants to be a part of in the future. All my friends that were third years are essentially gone, actually out and living life, and I’m stuck here. At least there’s only one more year left of high school. And then I can go and work for a literary magazine.

I miss people. Despite their failings, I do need people in my life.

You can only play so much volleyball in a day by yourself before your motivation is gone by the third week of playing alone.

It’s times like these that make me think about the future. I don’t spend much time with girls per se, but they are pretty and nice. Our manager is a girl, but she has a boyfriend. She’s chill.

Sometimes, when I feel like something is wrong, I turn to the idea of love. I’ll admit that I love a few things in life, but that’s only because I think love is something truly special that you can’t just fling around. I ‘like’ things more often than I ‘love’ them. Volleyball, my best friend, my family, books, and writing.

Will I know when I’ve found the love of my life? My parents said they knew they loved each other from the first moment they met. Will I feel like that too? Will I know it’s love? How can a feeling be recognized as a specific feeling? How do I know what anger feels like, besides that heat and pressure and red hot sun? How do I know what sadness feels like, besides water, coldness, and finishing a run? Would love have those distinct colors and associations? Or would love just become the person I love?

I don’t believe in soulmates. Definitely not. I think people are infinitely compatible, and it all depends on our ability to communicate and agree to grow with a person for the rest of our lives. I believe we make our own soulmates, through sharing experiences and agreeing to be ourselves no matter what. I told my mom this and she just smiled at me like I still had a lot of life left to live.

But don’t I have enough experience to know what I want? Or at least to formulate my own opinions and beliefs? I may be 17 but I am not an idiot.

Or did my mom’s look of a wistful future just mean that when I fall in love I’ll know it and I’ll look back to these words and think I’m completely ridiculous?

Dad made spaghetti for dinner. It was gross so we ended up having to order udon from the place I like instead.

We watched a movie Mom wanted to show me, the title was something like Wildly Wealthy Westerners or something. It was just about rich people from America and Canada, plus a subplot of romance between a basic guy and this rich heiress girl who just couldn’t be together because of rich people's reasons. It was silly but the music was good. The ending kiss scene was hot, he shoved her into the backseat of his jeep and I swear I heard Mom sigh.

- A.K.

She didn’t expect him to text her on Monday of the following week, asking if they could meet for tea at a place near his work during his lunch break. She surprised herself by agreeing to it, and then by cheekily calling it a date.

Akaashi shoved his phone into Udai’s face, “What does this mean?”

Udai pushed his bangs back and inspected the text messages on Akaashi’s phone. “I think it means she agreed to go on the date you asked her on?”

“But I didn’t ask her on a date?”

“Oh, but you definitely did. Oh and tea? What dork takes a girl for tea on a first date?” Udai pushed Akaashi’s phone away and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Then Udai’s face breaks into a blinding grin, “Is this your little diary thief? And the one who gave you the sweater at Bo’s party? Oh, it is isn’t it, do you have a picture of her?”

Akaashi briefly flashed a photo Bokuto had taken with her in Udai’s direction.

“DAMN! I need me my own diary thief,” Udai raised his eyebrows and started laughing a little, and then he ruffled his hair and used his fingers to zoom into her face, slowly, he started moving down the picture to her body. Akaashi pulled his phone back before Udai got too far down.

The clock on Akaashi’s desk wanted him to leave for an early lunch and by an early lunch, an hour early. So there he sat at the small cafe on the corner by his office building, rubbing his sweaty hands against the legs of his pants, waiting for her. She was five minutes early and was surprised to see him already at a table, so she decided to have a little fun.

Since his back was turned, she went up to him and tapped his shoulder, when he turned around she let out a small “Boo!” and put her hands up into an imitation of claws, trying her best to seem scary. He just thought she was adorable. He motioned for her to sit down.

Resting her crossbody bag against the back of the chair, she took a seat. Akaashi was able to wave down a waiter, who gave them a single menu to look over.

“What kind of tea do you like?” She asked, using her pointer finger to scan through the options the cafe had available.

“I like black tea, and sometimes chamomile tea.” He asked her for her favorite type, and she told him. He tried to commit her favorite to memory as quickly as possible.

Eventually, they had their tea, and the silence started to set in. Between sips, Akaashi would try to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. But he thought it was all too bold. So he told her a little about his life, his work, and his friends and she did the same, returning statements in a unique fashion about her life. Her word choice was special, calculated even. She was like him in another way that mattered, a calculated, intentional way of speaking.

She could always make him yearn to be a little more considerate of his words. Until she managed to pry them out of him.

“So why am I here?” She stirs a little more sugar into her tea, then pauses from drinking her tea to take a sip of her water.

“I want one of your journals.”

She laughs before realizing he’s entirely serious, “How do you even know that I have any journals to lend to you? For all you know, I could be living a journal-less life.” She waves her small stirring spoon around, before putting it into her mouth.

“I can’t explain it, but I know you have journals. Only someone with a journal of their own would be so obsessed with another’s.” Akaashi takes the spoon from her mouth and uses it to stir some sugar into his tea. Her mouth gapes for a moment while he smirks, looking right into her intelligent eyes.

The next day they have tea again, and she gives him one of her journals from high school.

“Don’t read it all in one go.” She pauses, “I don’t write nearly as well as you do, so don’t scrutinize my words the way you do all your mangakas’ words.”

Akaashi nods.

He read it all in one night. He calls her in the middle of said night.

“Who the hell is this Ito kid? When did you and he start talking? Just outta nowhere he pops up at the end of your last entry. Where’s the careful recollection of all your interactions with him?” Akaashi is exasperated, running his hand through his hair. He disagreed with what she said about her writing.

She was compelling and interesting, and she most definitely had his heart. Her high school experience had been so different from his, and she seemed to be much more optimistic about life than he was. Despite her calling him a realist, he believed that in comparison to her, he was a total pessimist.

She explained to him about Ito, and that he was a short-lived crush she had had at the end of her second year in high school. Akaashi was glad when she said she didn’t even talk to him anymore. Based on the way she had written about him, Akaashi thought that Ito would be the love of her life, and Akaashi was slowly realizing maybe his heart was in the process of making her the love of his life.

“When do I get the next journal?” Akaashi wanted to keep talking to her despite the lateness of the hour.

“You don’t. I told you to pace yourself, I only have one of yours so you’re only getting one of mine.” She was lying on her stomach on her bed, slightly kicking her feet while talking to Akaashi.

Akaashi groans but tells her he’ll return the journal next week when he can have another long lunch break. She says she’ll be there.

Akaashi recalls when he remembered his diary was lost.

It had been a long day at work, and he wanted nothing more than to go home. His mom hadn’t remembered his apartment address, so she sent one of his old journals to his work office. He put it into his satchel and made his way home.

On the train, there had been a slight jostling. And Akaashi hadn’t noticed the journal falling out of his bag and under his seat.

When he exited the train, she had gotten onto it. She sat down in the same seat he had. Right when Akaashi started walking to the stairs to exit the station, she reached down under the seat to stow away her bag, only to be met with a rough material. And for a moment, if they had just turned around, their eyes would’ve met right as the train pulled away.

When he finally got home, he unpacked his bag, looking to put away his journal safely into a box with other memorabilia from high school. When he dumped his bag upside down, shaking everything out, he just couldn’t find his journal. When going home from work the next day, he had asked all the employees if they had seen a leatherbound notebook. None turned up.

If there ever was a moment that could’ve changed the future, that was what it would’ve been. If the train hadn’t jostled. If Akaashi Keiji hadn’t been tired from work and forgot to check for the journal on his way out of the station. If she hadn’t sat right where he had been sitting, and most definitely, if she didn’t love a good book, then it all would’ve turned out differently.

But that’s not the story that’s being told. The story being told is of Akaashi Keiji realizing that to love someone, you have to accept that they may know you better than you know yourself.

It had been six months, and she was close to finishing the journal. Somedays she didn’t read at all, others she read three entries and wanted to binge the rest of the diary.

They went for tea every single week. Sometimes twice. Then other times, he would take her around Tokyo to go exploring. They went to every museum, every library, every cafe that specialized in tea. He figured that they ought to be on an even playing field when it came to how well they knew each other, so instead of getting more journals from her, they traded lists of their top one hundred favorite books.

She had put three Haruki Murakami books on her list and Akaashi wanted to hold her face in his hands and kiss her.

But they were just friends. Friends who knew each other better than Akaashi was comfortable with. She knew what he would order before he said it, and he knew what she was going to comment before she stated it. When she asked him about his experience with failure, he knew that she had gotten in too deep.

She knew more about him than he expected her to, she knew all about the silly things that rattled around in his brain, and although it had been a journal from high school, he knew that people stayed pretty similar throughout life. So when she looked at him, she didn’t just see professional editor Akaashi Keiji, she saw a teenager who wondered what place he had in the world as well. She saw him as acne-ridden and languid with life. He wanted to control her perspective of him and he couldn’t do that now, because she had the key to his past and the map of his future.

So he tried to put some space between them. Just in case. Maybe it was a horrible tendency to overthink, no, he knew it was his horrible overthinking tendency. There were so many ways their relationship could go. He could completely crush her, to be completely crushed himself in turn.

Walking the edge of a knife with her. Balancing on the blade of friendship, if he fell onto one side, with no cuts, then they could have a happy relationship. If he cut himself on that blade, then the worst-case scenario would be that she realizes she doesn’t like him back and then there’s just someone who knows him too well out in the world.

When he hadn’t texted her in four weeks and her messages were left on read, she decided to finish the journal and be done with it. Their time as friends was short-lived she thought. She thought there may have been something more for the pair of them. And suddenly all the depressing love songs became about him. Which made her resentful, because who ruins ‘Iris’ by The Goo Goo Dolls like that for someone? DATE: XX-XX-14 TITLE: Quatervois; A Crossroads

I graduated today. I went through that book of fancy words Mom gave me and stumbled across this one. Quatervois, a crossroads. Does this count as a crossroads?

The magazine I want to work for said I could have an internship while I attend college. An internship in the manga editing department. Was I not good enough for the literature department? Is it because of my age? I think my essay and grades were good enough to at least qualify me for a chance to interview in that department. But they only let me interview for the editing department.

Does that make me a career failure? I like the magazine, but I’m not sold on the department they want me to go into.

Washio called me to congratulate me, he said that I was finally crossing over into the real world. I’m pretty sure I’ve been living in the real world for as long as I’ve been alive, but Washio made it seem like things would be so different for me. I digress.

When nothing seems straightforward, and you come to a fork in the road and you have two options that you can’t see down, how do you choose which road to go down? The one lined with flowers, or the one with a dirt path that could eventually have something more alluring at the end.

- A.K.

On the penultimate page of the journal was a glued-down picture of Akaashi wearing his graduation suit, and holding his graduation scroll, his parents stood on either side of him grinning proudly at their only child. Maybe she should’ve checked the book from the last page and then started reading the front. But she didn’t want spoilers, that’s why she never checked the second to last page.

She texted Akaashi and said she finished the journal and was ready to return it. When he didn’t respond, but had read the message, she texted Bokuto asking for some clarification. She asked if Akaashi had said anything about her that would’ve indicated why he was mad. Bokuto just said that Akaashi wasn’t mad at all. So now she was confused. If he wasn’t upset, then why was he ignoring her?

Instead of going to their tea place, she goes to his office during lunch. She scans the buttons, looking for his department.

“Hey diary thief, whatcha doing here?” A shorter guy with shaggy black hair and a hoodie with a denim jacket over it comes around to her and presses the elevator button.

“Are you going to the Manga Editing Department?” She checked before entering the elevator with the shaggy-haired guy, who had introduced himself as Udai Tenma, but she could just call him Tenma. He confirms and then doubly checks her identity as the same person Akaashi had been talking about and spending all his lunch breaks with.

“It’s funny that you know about the journal, I came here to return it finally. Probably much to Akaashi’s delight.” She adjusts her bag across her shoulders, giving a short sigh.

“No, Akaashi loves that you have his journal. At first, he was a little annoyed, but now it’s kinda like you have a little piece of him all the time. I told him just to get you a necklace with his name on it, but noooooo Udai I can’t do that because I’d essentially be confessing if I did something like that.” Udai did a brilliant imitation of Akaashi, even going as far as to push his shoulders back to make him seem taller and with a broader build.

Udai turned slowly to face her, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “Please pretend I don’t exist, I never said anything about Akaashi’s undying love,” He froze, “Also ignore what I just said.”

Udai got out of the elevator on the floor below the editing department. She could hear him start to criticize himself and say he owes Akaashi so many more favors and solids now.

She walked through the office, lightly admiring all the manga panels, all the stories that had come out of this building astounded her, it had been a while since she last read a manga, so she considered picking one up on her way out. Maybe she’d read the one written by Udai.

Then she sees him. Akaashi, with a pencil in one hand and an eraser in the other. His head is moving slightly, due to the music playing through his headphones she assumes. He fidgets in his chair, wiggling the seat around. Despite being angry at him, he was still adorable when he was engrossed in his work.

“You’re being childish.” She handed Akaashi the journal. Akaashi had to take off his headphones when he saw that his journal was being thrust into his face, he dropped his pencil and turned around only to be met with her. Even though she seemed to be upset with him, she still looked beautiful.

Akaashi looked confused, so she clarified, “Ghosting? Really? You could have just said you didn’t want to be friends.” Her tone is sharp and penetrating.

It wasn’t the being friends part, it was the part where he wanted her to be entirely his. An overwhelming desire to attach her to him in all senses. He swallows and takes the journal back. He wants to ask what her thoughts were, and what she came to understand about him. Yet, he knew she was upset with him. He would be upset with her too if she did what he had done.

He had completely blown his chance, hadn’t he? The one woman who had read the teenage journal and still wanted to be friends. Maybe her knowing more about him wouldn’t be too bad at all, maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

“I don’t want to be friends.” She starts to sniffle, she quickly runs the sleeve of her shirt onto her eyes. Akaashi rushed the next part out, “I can’t be just friends with you I’m afraid. I think I want more.”

She blinks rapidly before regaining composure and putting her hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to sort out your feelings. Because if you really wanted more, you wouldn’t have treated me like I was disposable. You wouldn’t have ignored me. So, figure it out, and let me know what the result is. You know where to find me.”

She rubs her thumb on his cheek in a parting gesture. He remembers when she did that for the first time, around three months ago. They were at a library he had found in a far corner of Tokyo, and he was talking about a book that Udai hadn’t understood at all, which made him irate that Udai could skim over such an important story. They were in their little section, with dim lights and a stack of books they wanted to talk about.

As he was waving his hands around, trying to show her the pages and lines he was referencing in the book, when she reached over and brushed her thumb against his cheek, the rest of her fingers resting along his jaw and lower cheek. Her palm barely contacts his chin.

“You had a little mark there. But I think it’s just a cute little freckle, it won’t wipe off.” She brushes against his skin again, and when the mark doesn’t disappear, she leans back into her chair, waiting for Akaashi to begin again. When he starts talking again about the book, he keeps stumbling and stuttering over his words.

She gave a small wave before leaving his office space. Akaashi's co-workers just turned their heads to watch her exit, heads sticking out of cubicles, and then in a blink, they all turned to face Akaashi with disappointed faces, shaking their heads and clicking their tongues. Then, they went back to work and Akaashi was sitting at his desk with his journal brazenly staring at him.

He had one chance to make it right. So he set aside Udai’s manga draft, knowing he could go through it in less than an hour, and he picked up his pencil, writing one more entry in his journal.

He can only wait a week before giving it to her when he shows up to her apartment unannounced. Miwa opens the door and rolls her eyes, but letting him in.

“I gotta run and get some new specialty scissors. I’m not afraid to use them in an unintended use if I get back and she’s crying.” Miwa motions her fingers from her eyes to his. Akaashi gives her a thumbs up.

When she comes out of her room, she inspects him on the couch, he’s holding his journal.

“Read the last page for me. It’s an extended edition.” He jokes somewhat. She sits next to him and reads his ‘extended edition’. DATE: XX-XX-XX TITLE: Micawber; An Eternal Optimist

I was stupid. Believe me, I know I was a whole idiot and a half.

Here’s to giving up realism and embracing optimism.

You knew who I was before I knew you. I was scared that you would know too much. That’s hilarious, right? I wanted you to know me, and yet there I was completely afraid to let you get too close, but you were already close. It’s not just what words were contained here, although I re-read my journal and there are definitely some things I should’ve self-censored.

You were what made the entire difference. Your ability to perceive me as a whole rather than a sum of my parts was the distinction that was made.

With you, I truly am a protagonist. Not a side character anymore, but the main character who shares the limelight with his love interest. Although, I have a distinct feeling that you may be more of a main character than me. But, I know you’d say you digress.

In your journal, you mentioned once how you believed that a good story can compel you to be changed. How characters drive a real tangible change in a person. Did I do that for you? At least a little bit? I know I was changed when I read your story, I realized that maybe I liked you a little more than just liking you.

Please don’t think I am mean. I was cruel, rude, and inconsiderate to you. Ghosting for more than a month because I was worried is likely going down in my personal history as the worst thing I’ve ever done to you. But I’m dedicated to never doing anything bad to you ever again. I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll never lie.

I’m optimistic that you like me a little. Maybe even a little more than like.

So, tell me why I still feel worried. Is this feeling even worried? Or is this what love feels like? The desperation to not hurt you in any way. The pang of knowing that I am myself with you. And, yes, the physical magnetism that makes me feel just a little more like a teenager when I am with you.

I think this feeling is love. I just think it’s so overwhelming that I ended up making it into a negative emotion instead of what it is.

I’m sorry. Forgive me or I really won’t know what to do with all these feelings that flit around in my heart for you.

I love you.

- Yours, Akaashi Keiji

She knew he was watching her. She had her nose in his journal, reading what he had written for her.

“Can you get me a tissue?” Akaashi handed her one. He was ready to say his goodbyes.

When she closes the journal, he looks at her with curious eyes. She smiles.

“Best book ever.”

He grabs her by the back of her head and kisses her. She held his face in her hands, tilting her head slightly and he hummed into her mouth. His nose was cold on her face, but the warmth of his mouth contrasted with the frostiness. His other hand grips her hip, trying to pull her closer to him. Despite them being already so close, he wanted her to envelop him.

Then he was pressing her down onto her couch, both hands on her hips. When she wrapped a leg around his waist he thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Her head was on the arm of the couch, and he had moved from her mouth to the side of her face to her neck, to right above her bra, leaving a trail of his making. He was glad she was wearing a low-cut top because it made it easier for him to pull the shirt down so he could reach more of her skin.

In contrast to him, she felt soft and pliable. She also felt wholly his in this moment.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling the strands in a mellow methodology, not wanting to hurt him almost. She wanted his hair just a little longer, but the short hair tickled her neck, so she was happy with the length it was currently.

The top of her chest was creamy and supple. He let his tongue brush out once, twice, before going back up to kiss her again. He licked at her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth just enough for him to run his tongue into it for a moment, before biting at her bottom lip in thanks.

“You taste like sugar.” He was hot in the face and had some hair sticking to his forehead. She pushed his bangs back tenderly, his chest was still rapidly moving up and down trying to catch his breath. He went in for another kiss, still short of breath, so she had to intervene.

“Slow down loverboy, you need to breathe, or else you can’t keep going.” She laughs a little and he can feel the way her body carries the laugh from her chest to her stomach. She moves in close to his ear, “And that would be a zero-sum game for us both.”

He nods, and she draws his head down to rest on her chest.

“Is this better or worse than that fantasy you had about making out with a girl in the backseat of a car?” She recalls one of his entries from his journal.

He rubs his face against her, inhaling deeply. “This is way better. But we’re still gonna kiss in the back of my jeep, and soon at that.”

She hums a little in response.

The next year, Akaashi and her moved in together, Miwa was glad because now she could finally walk around her apartment without clothes on (despite her doing that when they were roommates anyway). Bokuto was glad to see that Akaashi finally had someone to read his confusing books and that he didn’t have to read another one ever again. Udai would occasionally make a joke about if it didn’t work out with Akaashi she had a place in his awaiting arms. Akaashi threatened to work for another manga magazine and Udai would be stuck using only Grammarly. That usually shut Udai up pretty quickly.

They both kept detailed journals. And when they finished them, they would let the other read them. Akaashi let her read all his past journals as well, and she let him read her diaries.

Maybe love isn’t what you expected at first, maybe it's not even a feeling you want to feel at that moment, or for that person. But love works out for the best in the end. Whether that’s with a best friend, a lover, a child, or even a book.

For Akaashi Keiji, love meant letting someone know him better than he knew himself. It also meant being okay with letting her read his diary.

[changbunnies]

Crave, Part 2 (18+)

♡ Pairing: Romantic Demon!Hyunjin x Human Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: supernatural au, demon au, age gap relationship typical in monster fucker fics, coworkers to lovers and love triangle vibes :')

♡ Word Count: 6.5k

♡ Summary: "The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. In which Hyunjin, a demon from the nine circles of hell, finds himself impossibly infatuated with the very human he once set upon himself to destroy.

♡ Warnings: this is a part 2! read part 1 here, more immoral behavior and thoughts + ideas from hyunjin ofc, supernatural abilities, themes of possesiveness and jealousy, more talks of sinful acts / feelings from the perspective of a demon, reader's age is not specified but it is implied to be at least mid twenties.

♡ Notes: sorry ya'll it took longer for this to come out than i intended, i wasn't feeling well so i was resting ;v; and tbh i still don't feel well but i really wanted to keep writing so i powered thru to get this done!! this part is story focused but dw, explicit smut is coming next <3 the focus here is building up their relationship so that the smut feels like a natural development and they aren't just instantly in love lol i hope you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

How do you make a human fall in love? A question that is perhaps simple in theory, but Hyunjin hasn't wooed a human in centuries, and much has changed since he last blended in with society. In the modern age of technology, sin is at the most rampant it's ever been. The common man can access all manner of sin from the palm of his hand with a single device, and it has made the act of integrating into human society an unnecessary practice for demons. 

There's a plethora of human sin to feed from at any given moment, and obsolete is the need for a demon to blend in with the humans that walk the earth, no longer required to be a snake in the community garden just waiting for their moment to strike and consume. Though an outdated method to obtain their wants, integration with humans can still be done, if only the demon in question wishes to do so- and as Hyunjin has come to realize, he does if he wants to win over the object of his desire. 

Despite how long it's been since Hyunjin walked among them, he wasn't ignorant of modern human culture; he still had to be well-informed if he wanted to be effective and efficient in sowing the seeds of sin in feeble minds, after all- his work in the second circle required such knowledge, and it was also a benefit when it came to deciding which soul he would drink from to sustain himself. 

He knew perfectly well how to use most modern technology, knew how to dress in a manner that was unique to his own tastes but suited the trends of the era, and whatever "pop culture" knowledge he lacked, as it was called by humans, he could blame it on things such as "preferring to stay off social media," or "not watching much tv or playing much games," and most would take it as a fair, reasonable enough excuse, even if the person asking questions of him could not relate to his answer. 

In the last century especially, most of Hyunjin's public outings were limited to a few hours at most, spending that entire time scoping out who'd sustain his cravings the most. Nightclubs in particular were an easy place for Hyunjin to get a quick fix of the lust he needed, sustaining him well enough when his preferred love-drenched lust was still being built to its peak. 

Despite all his experience in human matters, there was something that posed a problem for him initially. Since moving into your lavish suite, you worked from home- a luxury Hyunjin assumes you have from a high ranking position within whatever company you work for (especially if this is the kind of place you can afford to live in on a single salary.) But if you only ever left the house long enough to run errands, how was he supposed to meet you organically? And further still, how does he meet you in such a way that makes contact with you consistent, that makes you want to talk with him and be in his presence? 

He could, theoretically, stage a meeting, pretend to be a neighbor entering the building at the same time or "accidentally" bump into you while shopping for something he has absolutely no use for, only to then charm you the moment your eyes lock with his. The problem with that approach is that charming you defeats the purpose of what he wants; for you to have genuine, real love for him, and only him. And asking you out after meeting you just once, in a situation where you have no reason to connect with him further, could be uncomfortable or off-putting in the eyes of women. What woman likes to be hit on by a stranger while she's grocery shopping? 

Hyunjin's human form is attractive, sure, but looks can only carry him so far when it comes to making a woman fall for him. His appearance is useful for one night stands, but he needs to show you more substance than that if he wants you to desire him beyond the physical- and he was sure based on his observations of your character that you weren't vain or superficial enough to fall for him based on looks alone. 

Thankfully, he didn't have to ponder on these questions for much longer, because only a few short days after you finished all your unpacking and decorated your apartment to your liking, you returned to work. He could tell easily enough what your destination was when your routine suddenly deviated; for the first time since moving in, you had turned on a repeating alarm for 6 A.M, and your choice of business casual clothing and subtle, office appropriate makeup told him all he needed to know. 

Hyunjin followed you there, naturally; presence hidden, lingering in the shadows with the intent to best establish how to infiltrate your work environment. As he expected, you held a high ranking position inside a corporate office- head of human resources for one of the many subsidiaries of some conglomerate Hyunjin had never heard of, as typically there is no need or reason for him to be well versed in human's business dealings. 

Becoming someone you work with directly would be the best route, he was sure. Whether on equal ground or as someone answering to you on a team, it was the option that gave him the most opportunity to create a connection with you, and maybe be the start of one of those sappy office romances that humans seem to enjoy in their media. 

It was fine if there were no employment openings- it'd be simple for Hyunjin to create one by exerting his influence over a human's mind. He'd pick out whomever you liked the least, someone who bothered you either overtly or simply by being an inefficient worker, and he'd take their place. He could plant the idea of a career change, a desire to move across the country, or simply get them fired should the gentler, subtle approach be deemed too time consuming for Hyunjin's taste. 

Of course, Hyunjin knew jack fucking shit about how your job truly works or what would be required of him if he was on your team, but that was fine too- it would be easy for him to fake his performance when necessary, and charm any who questioned his work abilities. He wouldn't enjoy lying to you directly if there was ever a need for it but, well.. The ends justify the means, don't they? And while he wouldn't charm you for love, certainly it wouldn't hurt to do so to make him appear a better worker than what he would be in reality, right? 

No matter what his hypocritical justifications were, he’d do anything necessary to make you his, even if it meant having to lie at times. It was a foreign feeling, being conflicted about lying when typically lying came second nature to a demon, but he supposed his infatuation for you is what makes it feel different. Is that why truth was considered a godly virtue? It was the first time in his life that just the thought of lying, before it could even be an act done in the first place, felt.. wrong.

Maybe because on some subconscious level he recognized that love woven from lies isn’t true, no matter how much he’d wish it to be. Even if you fell sincerely in love with him, would it still satisfy him to have gotten there based on tricks and lies? When he determined that the answer to that question was a firm “no,” he vowed he would do his best to keep lies far from his lips when it came to you, even if that made his goal more difficult to achieve. Strange, how this was easily the most human he’d ever felt. 

In a way, it is almost natural to feel this way, to be met with internal conflict for the first time in ages; most demons are born directly from human sin, after all. What is he, if not the physical manifestation of a human who has fallen from perfection? More powerful than a mere human though he was, his proverbial soul still held an innate inclination towards sin, the struggle with temptation and decadence inherent to his very being, as hypocrisy and corruption went hand in hand with sin, hand in hand with the very human condition he would oft wrongfully deny he felt.

And that wasn’t the only human emotion that came to him when he watched you at work for the first time. Most of the morning was spent rather uneventfully, Hyunjin’s time dedicated entirely to scoping out the environment and determining where he’d best fit within your corporate world. He observed the people on your team, who was designated where and what their duties were, keeping track of what feelings and opinions you had for whom, looking out for who he would be able to effectively replace.

Without warning, he sensed it, felt it, tasted it- love, seeping out of your pores, heart suddenly alight and a smile that should be reserved for him lingering on your lips. Jealousy pricked Hyunjin’s skin before he could even fully process the scene before him, a deep fondness in your eyes as a man that Hyunjin could only assume was from another department approached you with a smile of his own.

Shit. It was expected that he would find out who you loved eventually, but he didn’t anticipate that it would be here, in the very environment he was setting up to be the stage for your romance with him. The man asked you questions and talked in ways you’d expect to hear between friends or coworkers- “how’d the move go?”, “are you settling in well?”, and “you should invite me over sometime!”

It was the last statement that made Hyunjin’s eye twitch with suppressed anger, not much liking the idea of the person you’re in love with being alone with you in your apartment. Every time you giggled at something he said or blushed when the man held your gaze, it nearly made him sick with envy. Fuck him, he didn’t deserve you, Hyunjin thought, I'm better than him in every conceivable way, that should be me.

This man didn’t love you the way you loved him; Hyunjin could tell, could feel the platonic affection that radiated from him. And instead of being happy about the implication that Hyunjin would have no rival for your affection when he pursued you in earnest, it almost made him more pissed off. This guy didn’t even know how fucking perfect you were, didn’t seem to notice the way your eyes sparkled with affection, how your heart raced when he hugged you, or the bashful smile that lingered when he invited you to share your lunch hour with him.

He’s a complete fucking idiot for not being head over hells for you- you, who’s only sin is lust, who is beautiful, intelligent, humble, and positively radiant in presence without even realizing just how much value she truly has. It’s okay, he has to remind himself, it’s a good thing his one-sided rival doesn’t share your sentiment; because when Hyunjin shows you how beautiful you are, treats you with the reverence you deserve, your heart would surely shift to beat for him instead. He’ll make sure of it.

You let out a sigh as you comb through the next resume that found its way to your desk, exhausted from the amount of interviews you've conducted today. This was probably your least favorite aspect of your job if you were being honest; being the head of human resources put you in charge of all recruiting efforts, scanning through countless applications to determine who was the best fit for the company, but you never enjoyed doing it. 

It always makes you feel guilty to determine someone else's worth based on a flimsy piece of paper and interview first impressions, where nerves are almost always at their peak as the person sitting across from you makes their best conscious effort to impress you. It is also not a job you can delegate to someone else on your team, unfortunately; your place at the top of the HR department made all hiring decisions entirely up to your own discretion. And apart from the guilt of knowing you couldn't hire everyone that walked through your door, it was so tiring to go over the same questions multiple times a day with a myriad of strangers. 

Hwang Hyunjin was the name of the last person you'd be interviewing today (much to your relief) and you hoped he'd be the person to wow you in the end, as you have lukewarm feelings to who you've met thus far. Despite the impressive credentials on most resumes you reviewed, none of the people you'd met seemed to be a good long term fit for the company; some of them would likely only be good as temps, needing to be let go unless they showed substantial improvement in the areas they were lacking in. 

It was a terrible thing to judge someone based on whether or not they were able to calm their nerves or had enough charisma, but when working for corporate conglomerates you can't afford to be meek. It was okay to be shy and reserved in your personal life, many people in the office were, but for the sake of professionalism you're required to have the ability to put meek tendencies aside. If the interviewee couldn't speak with confidence, then you had reason to believe they'd crack under the daily pressures of speaking with representatives of other departments or when handling sensitive negotiations. 

Unfortunately, you don't typically have the luxury of giving applicants the benefit of the doubt or the ability to give them the opportunity to change your first impression of them. You take a glance at the clock hanging above the door to your office, opposite of your desk; it's just a few short minutes until you meet your last applicant, and you pray he'll be the person you've been looking for. Despite how desperate you are to fill the hole in your team after Mina's extremely abrupt resignation and move out of the country, you still don't want to hire just to fill the gap she left- you want someone capable and confident on your team. 

You take one last passing glance at the man's resume, making sure you're familiar with his education and work history, not wanting to be mistaken on any of the details listed. A short succession of knocks are heard on your door a few moments later, and you look up from the resume you're rereading to see Nayeon opening the door just enough for her head to come into view. "M-Ma'am, H-Hwang Hyunjin, uh- he's here for his interview," she speaks in a timid voice, face flushed the brightest pink you'd ever seen on her. 

Your brows furrow ever so slightly in wonder and concern at her out of character demeanor; Nayeon is among the most confident and well spoken employees on your team, and you've never known her to stutter or appear so off kilter. "..Right, send him in," you say after a moment, wondering if her attitude shift is due to the stranger you'd be meeting shortly; if that is the case, you'll have to talk to her about it once the interview is over- you wouldn't want to hire someone the people on your team are uncomfortable around. 

She nods and opens the door further, the silhouette of the taller man coming into view just slightly behind her. "Right in here," she mutters, stepping to the side and motioning for Hyunjin to enter your office. It becomes immediately apparent what the reason for Nayeon's abnormal behavior is; Hwang Hyunjin is easily one of the most beautiful men you've ever seen in your entire life. 

Black hair that just begins to touch his shoulders tucked neatly behind his ears, a few strands left untouched to frame his face, accompanied by wide circle glasses that seem to further enhance his beauty. He's dressed well, his suit modern and sleek but not overly formal for the setting, his accessories tasteful and understated, as they should be in an office environment- just a simple, long chain necklace and small, almost dainty hoops on his pierced ears. 

The reason that a man this gorgeous would even be applying to work here when he could easily make a fortune being a model is beyond you. You're quick to correct the initial surprise on your face, hoping that the man you'll be interviewing didn't notice how struck by his beauty you were when he stepped in. And how could you even know that he did notice you had a reaction to him- and not because of any overtly obvious expression of attraction, but because he could hear the beating of your heart with his inhuman ears, its steady rhythm taking a sudden, erratic jump the very moment he first stepped through the door. 

Nayeon is quick to close the door behind Hyunjin once he has stepped fully inside your office, leaving you in privacy for what will likely be the most difficult interview you have ever conducted, and not for the reasons you would've otherwise expected. "Have a seat," you speak clearly, as if your heart wasn't stuttering just mere moments ago, motioning for Hyunjin to take one of the chairs sitting opposite of your desk. "Pleasure to meet you, Hyunjin," you say after he's taken a seat, politely holding out your hand to shake his.

"Likewise, ma'am. I'm grateful to be considered for this position," he responds with a smile so effortlessly charming that you have to once again remind yourself that this is a professional setting and you shouldn't be thinking about how handsome the potential new addition to your team is. If you were a worse woman with lesser morals, you'd hire him on appearance alone- his flawless skin, plush, soft, almost inviting lips, and the little mole that sits daintily under his left eye are all positively bewitching to look at. 

You collect yourself after a brief mental scolding, deciding to get straight into the most pertinent questions you have once he's settled in his seat, opting to waste no time in getting straight to the point. While this approach does make the interview more tense for the applicant, you find it best to go about it this way to make sure they're truly ready for the sort of discussions that will be expected of them should they get hired. You don't expect perfection, but more accurately determination- if they can maintain a confident air about them under pressure, that's typically a good indicator to you they'll be a good fit for your team. 

Equally, you don't mind if they stumble over their words a few times throughout the course of the interview as long as they show the ability to bounce back from any slip ups. Error is expected at some point, as we are all human- you just want to assess their ability to come back from a mistake when speaking, and to see if they are able to maintain their composure in situations that may not be the most ideal or comfortable. 

The ease at which Hyunjin answers your questions has you convinced that he's perfect. He speaks confidently, coming across as self-assured and charismatic, not at all stuttering or faltering when you ask him to speak candidly with his own words. You appreciate a well rehearsed answer of course, but you like to ascertain whether or not the person you're considering for the job is able to maintain confidence when not using an internal script or reciting their memorized resume. 

Some struggle to do so, losing confidence in themselves the moment they are expected to go off the cuff, while others find it to be a trick question of sorts, as if you're baiting them to say a flaw that would place them out of consideration for the position they're applying for. What you value most on your team is adaptability- it's okay to falter for a brief moment, as long as they are able to collect themselves quickly and continue where they left off. And Hyunjin's ability to do just that is utterly astounding. 

He has an almost effortless sort of confidence and charisma about him; something unique and special that you don't often see, a state of being that isn't learned, but rather is innate to who he is. Even when he briefly pauses or lets out a small "hmm" as he thinks about his answer to your question, it never feels like he's struggling to find his answer- more accurately, it seems that he already knows what his answer is, and is just pondering on the best way to phrase it before speaking. 

It seemed that even his unrehearsed, unfiltered answers were nearly perfect, his ability to speak leaving you almost in awe. Truly, in the year and a half it's been since you were promoted to head of human resources, you'd never conducted an interview where the person you were speaking to seemed this effortlessly natural and comfortable in what is otherwise a tense situation. Honestly, you'd be a fool not to hire him right on the spot- his ability speaks for itself, and you're confident that any weaknesses he has can be corrected quickly and easily with more experience in the work environment. 

So you congratulate him, smiling as you once again hold out your hand and welcome him as part of your team. And Hyunjin smiles too as he takes your hand in his, knowing that this is just the start of what is his grand plan to make you his.

In the months it’s been since you first hired Hyunjin, he’s come to learn so much more about you than he did just lingering around in your apartment, and with that has come an even deeper appreciation and desire to have you. Your good nature, which he knew you had from little interactions at shops and cafes, was now able to be fully seen by him- from the way you cared about your team, treated them like equals despite the fact that you were their superior in rank, and how you encouraged and fostered true friendships between everyone on your team. 

You held so much sincere care for everyone around you, and you lead with compassion and kindness at the forefront. If someone was sick, having an off day due to mental health, or simply felt the pressures of life weighing them down, you always met them with compassion, encouraged them to get better, and never made them feel bad about themselves for any small slip ups that occurred while they were struggling with something. 

Of course, in this line of work it’s vital that they show up always ready to do their utmost best and show others the best versions of themselves, but you weren’t some militant manager that expected people to always be at 100%. It’s unrealistic, and hypocritical to expect perfection, so instead you always did your best to accommodate them when they were low, and that consideration resulted in your coworkers and employees having a great deal of respect for you, and caused them to always put in their best effort. 

By extension, your care for your team resulted in equal care towards you, and it seemed they greatly missed you when you were absent due to your move. They had fine enough leadership while you were gone, sure, but it wasn’t the same without you- the one who made them feel comfortable, secure, and made them want to perform well at their jobs. What Hyunjin felt watching you was something akin to pride- and it was strange, as he had never felt pride for someone else before, usually not even for himself. 

He just liked seeing you succeed, if he had to guess; he liked knowing the woman he desired was not only beautiful in body but also in soul, just as he suspected her to be when he first came to put aside his anger and truly know her for who she is. What a happy accident it was, that he happened to be gone when you finalized your move to suite 13; because otherwise how would he ever have known what it was like to care about someone other than himself? To understand what it is that makes a human God’s greatest creation? 

He gets it now, he thinks- why God prioritized humanity, why he loves them despite how flawed and drenched with sin they are. And again, it occurs to Hyunjin how hypocritical he was before, and continues to be even now, how foolish it is for him, the very embodiment of sin, a being who is supposed to uphold depravity and ruin, to be infatuated with you, who is the very image of benevolence.

Hyunjin got to see so many new sides of you, sides that didn’t make themselves known within the 4 walls of your apartment, sides that made him fall for you more and more. A demon can’t experience love the way a human does, but he thinks this is the closest to love a creature like him will ever have. Obsession, longing, desire.. Isn’t that all a manifestation of love? Perhaps one does not need a true heart and soul to experience what love is, maybe all that one really requires is feeling. 

Most sins are a feeling- lust, pride, envy; all are an emotion you feel strongly within your gut, a natural reaction that cannot be prevented from pricking your skin or making your stomach twist. It’s innate, woven into the DNA of every creature with higher understanding. With all that mind, who is to say a demon can’t love? Maybe it won’t be felt in the same way a human feels it, but if love is a feeling, and sins are a feeling, then what truly prevents him from knowing love? 

As equally as he learned about you and himself, he also learned about the man you had developed feelings for- Yunho. According to Nayeon, who was apparently a wealth of information when it came to the subject, you met Yunho in college and have been friends with him since. You grew quite close in your time studying the same major, and as fate would have it, you both ended up working for the same conglomerate after college. 

While you ended up here, promoted to head of the department when the opening became available, Yunho worked for a different subsidiary within the same building; so while you technically worked for different companies, you shared the same CEO, and had ample opportunity to meet and talk during the company lunch hour and maintain the friendship you had in college. 

Well, he imagines you would’ve still been friends with Yunho regardless of where the two of you ended up in life after graduation, but still seeing him daily certainly didn’t help you get over the college crush you had on the man. And you had tried to move on- you’re not stupid, you know Yunho doesn’t feel the same way as you, but your relationships never worked out as you’d hoped, and you’d always be left still battling your unrequited love for your best friend. 

Though you are always professional, it was obvious, at least to the other women in the office, that you had deep feelings for Yunho. They could always tell in the way your face changed when he was near, displaying a timid smile that only ever showed up for him, the flush on your face subtle but recognizable to those who knew you well.  

And by extension, it became increasingly obvious to the rest of the office that Hyunjin was down bad for you, and hated seeing you with Yunho. His face too always changed when Yunho arrived, though in an entirely different way from you- Hyunjin would be positively seething with jealousy, always failing to mask the frown of disapproval when Yunho stepped into your office to talk and invite you out for lunch outside the building. 

And Hyunjin, who was always a gentleman anyways, was even more so when it came to you- holding open doors for you when walking somewhere together, carrying stacks upon stacks of heavy paperwork so you wouldn’t have to do it, memorizing the way you liked your coffee so he could get it for you and you could focus instead on your work. The only time Hyunjin ever wasn’t smiling, it was when you were giving your affection to Yunho, and it was painfully obvious how bad he wanted you. 

If Hyunjin was trying to keep his feelings a secret, well.. He failed to do so at every turn. Everyone in the office could tell how he felt, and while they would never admit it, most were just waiting for the day he’d ask you out, as it seemed to be more and more inevitable that he would. Some who had been your coworkers since long before you were even promoted and knew of your unrequited feelings, hoped that Hyunjin could be the person to finally give you the happiness you deserve. 

Even you yourself began to suspect that Hyunjin liked you as more than a friend or coworker, because why else would he go so out of his way for you? Why else would his face change whenever he saw Yunho? You can still remember the way his smile dropped when Yunho stepped into the room when you were having lunch with your team, how Hyunjin subtly clenched his teeth and tightened his fists, how he’d practically glare at the man before replacing his expression with the most forced smile you’d ever seen him have for the sake of professionalism. 

Were you being delusional? To say Hyunjin is fucking gorgeous is an understatement- he’s practically ethereal. And while you wanted to move on from your stupid school girl crush on Yunho that continued to grip you all these years later, wasn’t it too much to fantasize about Hyunjin being the person to finally make you happy? He could have anyone, and you couldn’t understand why he’d want you of all people when he could easily bag someone more impressive than you. 

You did well for yourself, but you didn’t consider yourself particularly desirable.. Maybe years of unrequited love and failed relationships made your confidence tank more than you realized, at least when it came to love and romance. And while there were other couples in the office, you worried it’d be unprofessional of you to date someone who you are technically the boss of.. Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the power dynamic instead of worrying about whether or not you were desirable enough for Hyunjin to want you? 

God, you really needed to get your priorities straight before you did something stupid; and certainly you were just reading too far into things. But still, while your feelings for Yunho didn’t go away, you still couldn’t deny that your heart would race whenever Hyunjin smiled at you, couldn’t ignore how goosebumps would erupt on your skin when his hand lingered on yours as he handed you a perfectly made cup of coffee, couldn’t help but linger on the the thought of what a perfect lover he must be.

As if sensing you were thinking of him, you hear a knock on your door, breaking you out of your thoughts and seeing Hyunjin crack open the door. “May I?” he asks, and you smile politely with a nod, motioning for him to enter your office. “Hey Hyunjin, what’s up? Need something?” you ask and he shakes his head, sitting on the chair in front of you. “Nothing work related, though I do want to ask you something,” he replies, and immediately your mind wanders to delusional territory again, though you quickly try to shut it down. 

“What is it?” you ask, trying your best not to fill your brain with the thought of Hyunjin making a move on you. Be professional for God’s sake. “I was wondering,” he starts, looking at you with that charming smile that is so natural to him and you always have to stop yourself from folding over, “If you don’t have any prior obligations today, would you like to have lunch with me?” 

Oh no. He’s adding fuel to your delusional fire. “Just us?” you ask, trying to mask your hope or the way your heart is picking up speed. You really want to be chill about the invite, but you really can’t help but hope the invitation means something more. He’s perfect, how could you not? You’re only human, after all. Isn’t it natural to want someone this fucking beautiful to want you? 

“Yes, just us. You don’t have to consider it a date, but.. I would be happy if you did,” he smiles, head tilting to the side in an almost playful display, and your heart jolts. He’s not just playing with you, right? He wouldn’t, would he? But you have to ask, “You make it sound as if you want me to consider it a date. Are you saying you like me?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, ma’am,” he replies without hesitation, confidence fully on display. It’s as if the possibility of you saying “no” has never crossed his mind. Well, you’d probably be confident too if you looked anything like him; you don’t imagine he’s been rejected often. And well, you certainly won’t be the person to hit him with his first rejection either; you’ll have to ask a third party to handle the necessary paperwork if things go well between you and Hyunjin, as the head of the department can’t approve and oversee her own consensual relationship agreement, but it’ll be worth it, you think. 

After all, if someone this beautiful and seemingly perfect wants you, why deny yourself the opportunity? Even if it doesn’t work out, maybe he’ll be the person to finally help you get over your stupid crush on your best friend that’s been going nowhere for years. Apart from his beauty, he’s always been chivalrous and attentive towards you, a true gentleman in every sense of the word. And even if it's only for a brief time, you think he can make you feel happy, desired, truly cared for.

You’re about to tell him you’d love to, when your door unexpectedly clicks open, your eyes moving past Hyunjin to see Yunho standing in the doorway. Hyunjin immediately scowls, having half a mind to rip him apart once the day is over, though he does his best to temper his aggravation. Can’t let himself lose face in front of the one he loves after all; he’s not sure you’d still be up for a date with him if he displayed his jealous, possessive tendencies this early on (not that he did a very good job of hiding them to begin with.)

“Shit, sorry- am I interrupting a meeting?” Yunho asks, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning his gaze back to you instead. “No, nothing like that,” you answer, shifting your gaze back to Hyunjin, who for the first time looks concerned that you’ll turn him down. It’s subtle, but his eyes are softer, nearly pleading, though he tries his best to not display the desperation that lies underneath- the desperation for you to affirm that you like him too, that you want to go on a date with him, that you want to give him a chance. 

“Oh, good,” Yunho sighs in relief, knowing that sometimes your work bleeds over into the lunch hour. He glances at Hyunjin, a slight frown forming on his face. He’s never spoken to the guy, but Yunho would have to blind to not notice that Hyunjin hates him for seemingly no reason. “Well, uh- I’ll let you get back to whatever talk you’re having. I’ll see you for lunch when it's over?” Yunho asks, and you can see Hyunjin swallow, hands tensing as he waits for your reply. 

Please don’t reject me, his body practically screams, and you almost can’t believe that the confident man that you know is looking this nervous over potential rejection because of you. “Thanks, but I’m actually having lunch with Hyunjin today. Maybe next time?” you answer, smiling at Hyunjin to reassure him that yes, you are going on a date. No, you won’t be picking Yunho over him, despite the history that lies there.  

Relief instantly spreads through Hyunjin, and he returns your smile, his confidence returning as if it’d never left in the first place. “Oh,” Yunho blinks in surprise; that’s.. unexpected. You’ve never prioritized someone else over him before. Huh. He feels.. strange. Jealous..? No, that can’t be right. Why would he be jealous? Hyunjin stands, offering his hand to you, which you accept before you stand yourself. 

“Are you ready, ma’am? I know this cafe you’ll just love, but we have to hurry if we wan’t to make it back before the hour is over,” Hyunjin smiles, turning away to face the door, and subsequently, an almost bewildered looking Yunho. You miss the way Hyunjin shoots your best friend a smug, almost triumphant smirk; a smirk that says I’ve won, she’s mine. And even as Yunho watches the pair of you walk towards the elevator, hears you tell Hyunjin he can call you by your name when it’s “just the two of us,” suddenly he feels incredibly stupid. 

Even as he’s left standing there, watching the elevator doors close with just the two of you inside, he can feel his gut twist as Hyunjin shoots him one last smirk, one that affirms something Yunho is just now realizing- there was a reason Hyunjin hated him. All this time, Yunho was a rival for love, and he just lost the race without ever having actually participated. 

He scoffs, laughing at himself in near disbelief. What an idiot he’s been, and what a moment to realize it. He knew you had a crush on him, but what did he expect? That you’ll always be there, just waiting for the day he’d finally miraculously return your feelings after all these years? Of course you’d move on eventually; and maybe Yunho didn’t want to admit he found your infatuation with him to be a comfortable ego boost, now hit with the epiphany that his newfound jealousy over the loss of your affection is ugly and twisted. 

And truly, Hyunjin had him beat. Somehow, he knew that this was the end of your feelings for him. How ironic it is to lose due to his own complacency, his expectation that you’d always be there no matter what relationships you found yourselves in. How arrogant and selfish he’d been, assured that no matter whom he slept with or pursued, you’d be there just waiting for the day he’d finally ask you out. And now Hyunjin has you, and he’s certain he’ll never let you go.

[etherfabric]

How to Foster Peace + Lyrics

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

3 of Wands, 10 of Wands

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You have to broaden your perspective on what help can look like. You are clinging to superficial indicators that not everyone can authentically hold, and remain overwhelmed by your burdens because of it. You might have a favorite outcome and are so hyperfocused on it that you don't even consider a lot of second best opportunities. Those could relieve you bit by bit instead of one big miracle. Stop seeing certain things as "beneath you", swallow your pride and admit to your very normal human need of support in general. Let the helpers have a little more say in what that might look like and don't argue against every minute detail. They probably offer what they can give best, and you don't know the effect this can have on you until you fully let it in and be the receiver for once.

Lyrics: "Rockland County" by Regina Spektor

Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look out for a moment Condescending down the stairs I'm condescending down the stairs I look down at the bottles

I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all I just know I got something coming If I got anything coming at all

Pile 2

9 of Wands, 5 of Pentacles

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You need to find an outlet for your frustrations to foster more peace in your life. To you, that seems like a contradiction; give in to the aggressive voice inside my head for peace? Well, it depends on how you go about it. To not hurt anyone in this cathartic process, choose a time of privacy and maybe an object to express yourself with. Punch a pile of laundry, rip old newspaper to shreds, cry into a pillow, write the word "fuck" 500 times in your journal, let yourself have violent daydreams, scream at God herself - the possibilities are endless. But you have to face this side of you. The steam is buildung up pressure in the container that is you, and believe me, you want to let it out on your own terms. Otherwise you risk something outside of your influence pushing you over the edge in an inappropriate setting. This could harm you and others way more than it has to. Surpression is a short term coping mechanism, and you have reached the limit.

Lyrics: "A Cannon" by Regina Spektor

I write you a letter, I hope you feel better I hope you forgive the transgressions I've given you love and I've given you anger as well And I meant them both

Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water Somebody's got to tell all the people to be like the water

I would if I could, but I can't, so I don't My heart breaks too easy, my words get all jumbled And when I wear lipstick Then no one understands me at all...

Pile 3

5 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles

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You have some serious intergration to do. I feel you going "Another thing?? I am already doing so much! I can't do any more!" No, but that's the thing. You are doing so much to get away from the "bad" feelings that need integration. The pain, the sadness, the grief, the despair, the hopelessness. The goal isn't to build a life without any of these things. The goal is to grasp opportunities for authentic self expression whenever they arise, observe what blockages still hold you back, and explore how they came about. The goal is to become whole again; to incorporate those aspects of yourself you weren't safe to express before.

Every human has the capacity for darkness and a need to be authentic in that regard. The question is whether we accept and embrace it in our conscious approaches, or wear ourselves down fighting ourselves. As soon as you let yourself fall apart and let nature take its course, you will see you didn't need to hold it together that tightly anyway. It will feel like being stuck forever in this pit, but just for a couple of moments. Sooner or later, everything fades. What goes down, must come up again.

The next time you feel the darkness creeping up, walk intentionally towards it instead of running in the other direction. You will survive, I promise. This darkness holds a truth about your past that wants to be heard and felt like it deserves.

Lyrics: "Just Like The Movies" by Regina Spektor

You are mistaken cause I do not bite Over the Williamsburg bridge on a bike And if he loves me then why does he leave? And if he loves me then why does he lea— Lea-ee-ee-ooh-dee-no Aah-de-da-de-da-aaaah Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might return Don't say goodbye like you're burying him Cause the world is round and he might re—

Pile 4

The Moon, 9 of Swords

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I see a crisis of faith in one or all aspects of your life. Doubts are creeping up, and they feel awfully truthful. The places where you used to turn to for confirmation are suddenly empty and lifeless, and you feel abandoned by a higher power.

If God doesn't send you signs, selfmade is fine. Become your own God for a moment. How can you give yourself a little faith back again? Maybe it's affirmations written on your mirror, or a ritual you designed yourself whenever you need that extra reassurance. Maybe it's that one friend who sometimes can be annoying with their constant positivity; now might be a time where you can benefit from their perspective.

Whatever it is, practice believing something intentionally. It will feel a little icky at first, like a conscious self-gaslight. Just remind yourself that this isn't a lie, you are reintroducing the truth to a part of yourself that has no emotional access to all the small and big miracles you already experienced. Let them see it with their own eyes. Start from the beginning. Make an event out of it. Like a second spring in your spirituality. This part probably saw you thriving in your faith, and now feels comfortable revealing itself to hopefully join the party.

Lyrics: "December" by Regina Spektor

We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We are not evacuating this house, We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew. We don't believe in you and your wrecking crew We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you We don't believe in you, We don't believe in you... We don't believe in you

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Hopefully this was of some use to you. I love getting feedback on my readings, so don't hesitate to leave a comment if you feel called to do that.

[merrycrisis-if]

So I just want to say that I'm definitely not a suspicious person sending you a suspicious link - suspicious people wouldn't say that outright, right? I just tried to send an ask, hit the character limit, then tried to send a message, and uh, hit the character limit again. Haha. Anyway, here's what Qiu has done to me: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1hcQ_-WQ635cSrgWtEWX1gz7Xv9GbzopT_A5MpvRZA64/edit?usp=sharing

THIS MESSAGE IS THE BOMB!!! I love that you created a google doc just to gush about / psychoanalyse Qiu because of Tumblr asks's character limit, that's so hilarious and amazing!!

OK, now to reply to the message :D

[Re: Qiu] ...They're NOT EVEN AN ADULT YET. It's easy to say "just give up on the only structure you've known all your life because it's toxic" but reality is not always kind; even ignoring any kind of emotional support (which we unfortunately don't really get to see one way or another. Maybe Qiu would have been better off just running off and taking a leap of faith and relying on MC but it's not wrong to feel that the unknown is far more terrifying than the known and there was no way for them to know that choosing MC would have been better. The love of her parents - in whatever form, whether or not it's actually love, is what Qiu has known for most of their life - is a constant as long as they meet expectations.

Exactly, this!! Like, we first meet Qiu when they're still very much finding themselves / figuring out what they want in life. It's definitely a 'coming-of-age' story for them — as much as it is for MC. So their relationship with MC takes place at a point where, like you mentioned, they are still a teen(!) and their parents' expectations and (conditional) love is all that they know. It's never easy to distinguish between what one's own desires, dreams etc. are, and what's simply fed to us by society, by the people we trust/care about (in Qiu's case, it's their parents).

So I think one of the greatest joys of writing Qiu (and their relationship with MC) is acknowledging the imperfection, the growth, and their initial failure to 'do right' by each other back in high school (and the potential to re-visit that and make different choices the second time around).

There are probably bits of “it would be entirely way too selfish of me to ask MC to give up on their opportunity and stay”, among other things, but I’d like to think that feelings of “I don’t deserve to ask this of MC” are also there... Asking or hoping for Qiu to ask them to stay - I get it, I really do, but there’s also a part of me that feels like god DAMN if that isn’t fair, putting the choice on Qiu... Just as Qiu could have stood up for MC, could have shouted their love for MC from the rooftops, could have asked MC to stay; MC could have CHOSEN to stay, could have CHOSEN to prioritize their relationship with Qiu. Could have written emails, snail mail, video calls, flew back for visits, could have given long distance a shot. Maybe it was just the wrong time, wrong place. Maybe back then, neither of them could have made those choices, said those things.

And you bring this up beautifully here, where I think I was really interested in portraying MC's hurt (from MC's perspective) regarding the way Qiu never fought for them, even when they were so ready to throw it all away for Qiu — but then also slowly unpeel the layers of Qiu's perspective as well, i.e. that MC expected grand gestures from Qiu, but truth is, reality was tugging them in opposite directions, and perhaps Qiu did fail to jump off a cliff the way MC wanted them to, but they both failed to try to figure out a more mundane, less grandiose way of keeping in touch, staying in each other's lives etc.

MC back then had been seeing things in a very 'black and white', 'you do or you die' kind of way (as most 'first love' stories go), but I think now that they've had years to mature / grow, there's space for both MC and Qiu to appreciate the nuances of what had happened between them, how things fell apart etc. and acknowledge that in some ways, they were each incapable of doing the things they needed from each other, but nobody was truly at fault.

Again, thanks for the lovely message <3

[runawaymun]

It's something that I want to do a full write-up on after I finish more more quests (most especially Baizhu's) but I just want to put it out there that I am constantly amazed, as a chronic-illness haver myself, how many characters in Genshin Impact have chronic illnesses, how visible they are, and how well represented they are.

Like, it's extremely difficult to find even one character in a piece of fiction that has a chronic illness (let alone one where it isn't played for laughs, OR otherwise it completely destroys their life and they're fucking miserable, OR it's magically cured).

But Genshin? Dude you trip over a character with a chronic illness every five seconds, it feels like, and I fucking love that. Off the top of my head there's:

Anna (Mondstat), who visibly suffers from her illness and we know her brother struggles to pay for her medicine. But the traveler, through a series of quests, helps them get ahold of an affordable medication to manage (MANAGE, not cure) the illness and to return her quality of life to her.

Little Hongdou (Liyue) - who has an unspecified chronic illness. And she just does. But she's out and about and seems very happy.

Collei (Sumeru, playable) - and sure her illness is fixed by the end of the Sumeru quest, but I don't even care because of how well it's represented. She has hopes, ambitions, dreams. She participates in her work as a forest ranger even though we get visible confirmation that her illness is progressing. The people around her care and are compassionate, and do their best to make sure she takes care of herself, but she is also allowed to just...go out? and do things?? This shouldn't be such a tall order but chronic illness-havers with friends and family members who understand that, hey there are good days and there are bad days -- that's rare in fiction (and IRL for that matter).

Dunyarzad (Sumeru) - her chronic illness is a major plot-driver in an entire fucking archon quest. She has a huge amount of influence on the people around her, and her chronic illness is actually part of the whole reason we even are able to help Nahida in the first place. Her chronic illness is what makes her instrumental to the plot, but it also isn't the only thing about her, and I love that.

Dulphy (Fontaine) - an actress from Furina's story quest. What really struck me about Dulphy is how the people around her interact with her. I was half in tears by the end of the quest -- not even for Furina reasons (yes, that too), but because I was so touched by the fact that a game gave us a character who was unable to follow through with something she said she was going to do (finish her closing performance as the lead actress in a musical), and that was okay. Like, yeah, the people around her were upset -- but they were upset because she hadn't taken great care of herself and had pushed herself past her spoon limit! Nobody (including the narrative itself) treated it as a great failure when she had to call it quits on her performance. Rather, that was treated as a good thing, and they went so far as to explicitly state that her performance up to that point mattered, and that it was a meaningful contribution, even though she couldn't finish. And that just fucking got me, man. Also - again, this is a character where it is explicitly stated "this is a chronic illness. It has good days and bad days and it can only be managed, not cured. And if she pushes herself too hard then she'll need several days to recover." And that's just...part of who she is.

And, of course, Baizhu. (Liyue, playable) My beloved, my blorbo. His chronic illness(es) is an extremely visible part of his character - referenced in his voicelines, his idles, his interactions in quests, the imaginarium theater, and even your teapot house, and his emojis. Hell, he even coughs if you sprint too much with him. Nevertheless, he's arguably one of the strongest healer units in the game from a meta perspective, and from a story perspective he is immensely successful, insanely compassionate, and while he isn't necessarily super kind to himself about it, the people around him are. His chronic illness is part of him, but he is still allowed to inhabit a story where he's the most renowned and beloved doctor in his entire country & just...is an awesome, active person in general, and that means so much to me.

Just. God. I legitimately can't think of another piece of fiction where I have seen myself represented over and over and over again everywhere I look, let alone so kindly. It's genuinely so moving to have so many characters be so visibly chronically ill, and for that to just be part of their character. A neutral thing about them. And to have it be okay when they can't finish things -- even though they said they would, okay when they need to rest, okay when they have to take a break or extra care with themselves. And not just one but so many. I'm sure I'm forgetting some to boot.

(Honorable mention: Qiqi. Like sure she's a zombie but hear me out: visible chronic joint and memory issues, which is something I also deal with and it's just so refreshing to see a character who deals with them, too -- and who has so many people around her who are so kind about it).

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello,

I’ve found myself entangled in a bit of a situation, and I’m hoping you can help me make a decision.

I am what is known as a boroboroton. I am, specifically, a twin sized pale coral futon, of quality make with silk innards, if you can believe it. I’m not a full set, I’m ashamed to say- lost my mattress - but I get by. I manifested some fifty years ago (roundabout the time of my mattress’s loss) and since then have changed owners a handful of times.

I like to learn new places thoroughly so I don’t often smother my sleepers right off, but I was getting bored and there was a shop down the street that did second hand and my owner was getting on in age, you know how these things go.

Anyway! Once I was in the shop I was purchased by a young man from the United States. It’s been quite the exciting move, to be honest- I don’t get slept on nearly as much as I used to save for the family cat, but I do get used for television and games, so I’ve come up to date on all sorts of media, and I’ve even gone outside for a picnic! It was lovely.

None of that’s why I’m writing, though. My new sleeper is, as I said, a young man. He was in Japan for a religious trip, a- a mission. He was a missionary, from- I believe they’re called Mormons? And to each his own and all that you have to take a long view of things when you’re half a sentient futon with a bent for murder, but I don’t think it’s good for him.

See, he keeps looking up information about leaving, and then deleting the searches. There’s another person who messages him often and I think it might be his lover. His lover’s name is Steven, which I am certain that these Mormons- and more importantly his parents- would not approve of. They keep making noise about sacred duties and marriage and temple sealing and someone named- Crystabeth? Crystal Meth? I can’t quite tell, I learned English rather on the fly.

It would of course be much easier for my sleeper to leave a religion that no longer fulfills him if his parents were out of the way and it wouldn’t be hard, just a nights’ work. I might be sold again or put in an attic but I have my ways and I’m an adventurous sort. Only I’d hate to interrupt all the researching he’s doing.

I could smother him, then he wouldn’t need to worry about what might happen if he left, but where would that leave Steven? Steven sends the loveliest late night texts.

Is it any of my business? Do I just let it lie? He’s been a good sleeper, brought me across a whole ocean AND looked up the best way to keep me clean! I hate that he’s so miserable.

For what it's worth, I think you're quite right in your assertion that your owner would be better off out from the clutches of people who are stifling his sexuality and pushing him to place duty to their church over his own freedom.

There is a reason many people consider Mormons to be a cult. They are a high-control group which expects – and enforces – an unhealthy degree of power over their members, using the threat of ostracisation and punishment to curtail their liberty. I'm not at all sure I would apply the otherwise admirable sentiment of “to each their own” to such a group.

With that said, I'm afraid I can't agree that leaving the church would necessarily be easier for your owner if his parents were to suffer some kind of tragic, nocturnal “accident”. Rather, I worry such an emotional blow would in fact leave him more vulnerable, and give others in the church leverage to use against him – the phrase “it's what they would have wanted” looms darkly upon the horizon.

Your suggestion of smothering your owner himself is also rather wanting in nuance. The goal here is to support him to make his own choices, not to remove the question of choice altogether. I can't help but wonder if your perspective might be a little limited by your form. To a man with a hammer, everything's a nail. To a sentient murder futon, everything's a potential futon murder.

Fortunately, it sounds as if he might be well on the way to making this difficult decision for himself – which is, after all, the only way this change can come about. If he's already doing his own research about leaving the church, and developing a support network separate from his church contacts, then it seems only a matter of time before he takes the plunge and leaves for good.

I'm afraid there's not much you can do right now to help him come to that point any faster. He needs to find his own path, and to find it in his own time. The best thing you can do for him right now is offer him just what you've always offered – a safe, supportive place where he can take a breath, research his options, and relax. The rest – so to speak – is up to him.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[greenerteacups]

Hey GT, glad to see you're back! I'm still halfway thru Lionheart (just read the world cup chapter, what a delight) and your notes got me wondering.

I'm sure you've probably answered this before but how do you manage to make the world feel so rich? I'm not that into the fandom so I don't know If there are some things fanon agreed upon or if it is your own musings about the magic world. Like Draco explaining to Hermione about portkeys or how many languages Krum speaks.

How do you decide what's important enough to get a mention? Where do you go when you need answers and Canon is not enough to provide it?

Thanks for the kind words, and for the question! It's a matter of personal taste, like anything. Some writers prefer an athletic, streamlined plot, with only as much worldbuilding as you absolutely need (how does Panem run a command economy of 4.5 million people primarily on fossil fuels when its coal district has a population of less than 10,000? fuck off! who cares! they're Y/A dystopias about a TV show where teens beat each other to death!). Some writers, on the other hand, won't bother to start the story until they know the pH of the soil in every region of the world they're writing about. I'm somewhere on the second half of the scale, in that I'll give details that aren't strictly necessary to the plot, just because I like to feel like I'm writing about a world where real, extraneous things can happen. Some details are foreshadowing; some details are Special Mouseketools that will Help Us Later; and sometimes, you just get to know a cool fact about portkeys.

I guess part of the fun of building out a world is getting to think about Everything, which is what my brain normally does. I have a pretty broad body of literature as a starting gate, so there's plenty of room to play. E.g., when I started writing Krum, I thought about how he's not super fluent in English in canon, and that naturally made me ask why, because he clearly has taken English, so either he only started lessons recently or it hasn't been a priority for him; and then I went "wait, what's his first language? Bulgarian, right? But Durmstrang isn't — hang on—" and then I pulled up an actual map of Europe, which led me to realize that he wouldn't likely be speaking his first language at Durmstrang, which means he already had to become bilingual just to start his wizarding education, and that explains part of why he doesn't have a ton of time/effort to spare for a third language, plus he'd probably have a translator available whenever he traveled with a team because he's a B.F.D. — etc., etc. And then you keep thinking about that until you remember that you're supposed to be writing a fic, and you scramble to get back to doing that. Only now, you have worldbuilding! Congrats.

To try for an even halfway useful answer to your question: worldbuilding becomes most important when it creates limitations, because limitations define your characters and give them chances to develop/reveal themselves. So the details of portkeys become important because they explain the limitations of magical travel, which is a big nebulous ??? in the original series, since the introduction of teleportation via Apparating means that all other forms of transportation become inefficient by comparison. It also means the limitations introduced by travel — that is, not all characters can be in all places at once — also go away, because anyone can be anywhere immediately. From a narrative perspective, this sucks massive horse ass. Hence: I dumped a shit ton of limitations on Apparation (i.e., (1) it requires a ton of energy, (2) it's really fucking hard, (3) it's really fucking dangerous, (4) it's more of both the farther away you're going, (5) it's more of both the more people you take with you, (6) you can't Apparate without a clear destination in mind which means (7) you need to have been there already, and so (8) some people prefer not to do it). Hence, I also put limitations on portkeys (i.e., they have to be set up well in advance, you need to identify out both destinations precisely beforehand, and the calculations are difficult to do). Those limitations, and the Watsonian explanations you create for them, are your worldbuilding. They're what make the world feel real, because they give it grit and character. They give you a more complete sense of what you can and cannot do.

The rest of it is taste and preference, really; it's what interests you, and what parts of the world you want to explore. That's going to be unique to every author, and that's the beauty of worldbuilding — it reflects the parts of the world that you like to think about.

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Time Skips

From @ravennova7: How to you handle time skips in stories? I can write out scenes happening in real time, but narrative summarising isn’t something I’m good at. I just can’t seem to write exposition properly. "

And so, this post will be dedicated to how to write time skips!

A) Introduction

It's important to properly weave time skips into the story. Without the proper set-up for time progression, the audience can quickly loose their footing. Even if you are trying to write a story where the audience gets thrown of their feet, the readers need some type of directioning.

In order to incorperate time skips into the story, you need to soften the edges between here and now.

If you are writing a time skip in one chapter, you could use an expository phrase such as "three months passed...", "one day morphed into the next and suddenly...", "by the time...", and all those other types of phrases.

When you are writing the time skip across different chapters, in my opinion, it's easier to write a skip in time due to the fact that's more weaved into the formatting of the story.

You could change the perspective to a new character or return the perspective to the original holder.

One example of a time skip I really liked was when a character was trapped in time. From their perspective, we see them walking up to and shattering a hourglass. When we meet up with another character, we learn that some time has passed.

It felt jarring but not as jarring as it could have been if that scene wasn't in there.

Overall use section breaks to establish that the flow of the narrative has changed. I also try to use running themes throughout the time skip as a way of linking these two scenes together. It could be through the same character being the focus of the scene. It could be a "before vs after" type of comparison in which a character tries to do something two different times to show change. Basically, a training montage.

Another example of a time skip that was used effectively was "What Remains Of Edith Finch". Specifically, the ending monologues. The protagonist's ever-present narration guided the audience through the many years that passed. The story keeps the same emotional through line as everything feeds into one another. It feels like a conversation.

B) Limitation And Usage

Time skips are used to skip over detail that isn't providing necessary information. Movies often use montages to communicate that time is passing.

Time skips and montages are necessary tools because readers don't want to sit through weeks of the same character going to the gym.

Time skips, in my opinion, should be used sparingly and only when necessary. It's exceedingly jarring. It can smack down on the emotional threwline. It's messy.

REMEMBER: Don't use time skips to skip out on character growth.

I remember this one f*cking time when the protagonist got injured. Then a second later. He's healed. This would be fine. UNTIL

They had this protagonist undergo MASSIVE character growth WITHOUT ME! This guy wasn't my protagonist. He was suddenly nice! He was confident. He was best friends with everyone now!!?! He was suddenly besties with this guy who was his enemy just two seconds ago!!!!?!

I had to drop the story.

Try to keep character relationships the same through the time skips if you are "going to black". If you are pulling a montage move where you pass through the events of their friendship building then it's fine. If you have a character think about why their relationship changed, fine.

BUT NEVER just randomly have your protagonist suddenly change! Explain the change. I'm in your character's head to see their progression. To be there on their journey, dont make me skip the big action sequence!

Use time skips to skip over the in-between steps. Skip over the characters buying a ticket. Skip over the character's walk up the stairs. Skip over the fight sequence.

But don't skip over important and potentially engaging character development!!!!

C) Selective Conclusion

Remember, narrative isn't real time. Our experience of time isn't real time. Five minutes could be too soon to say everything you need to say or it could be the most agonizing amount of time to hold your breathe.

You probably skip over time naturally. You don't write a character's every errand nor their every thought. The only time the camera touches down on a character is when it's narratively relevant.

To decide when a scene is important, establish what information you need to know in order to fulfill the plot.

If you have a character you want to show as both in love with Girl and bad at school. You can have a character walking out the school, textbooks heavy in hand, who suddenly bumps into Girl.

Then use a transitional sentence to show the audience that we are done. "Well, at least there's one good thing about school".

[noxiatoxia]

Ok, so with all my SDR2 translation talk, I thought about a line of dialogue that's always struck me as odd in the English game. Hinata doesn't feel comfortable showering.

(Sorry for the photo quality, this is taken from my phone on my Vita)

It just sounds odd. I'm a fan of the Hinata being a trans man headcanon - I think it fits with many themes of his character - but headcanons aside, from an actual canonical standpoint, it just seems out of place.

I never checked the shower in the JP version for some reason, so I did so now. (Same bad quality, sorry).

The problem is, I can see where the confusion comes up in the Japanese version, and I'm going to ramble a bit here.

この向こうはシャワールームだ。結構広くて使いやすいけど…気持ちよく汗を流せた試しはない。この状況だもんな…

If you handed me this, I would give one of two translations:

On the other side is the shower room. They're pretty spacious and easy to use, but...there's literally never been a point where I've felt comfortable showering. Ugh, this is so annoying...

Or:

On the other side is the shower room. They're pretty spacious and easy to use, but...there's no way I could feel comfortable showering in this situation...

I'm gonna do my best to explain why both are plausible. I'll pitch it to the room and see what you guys think.

First line can be ignored. It's very simple. On the other side is the shower room.

Second line is where things start getting tricky. Firstly, Hinata in the official translation says it's pretty large and it looks easy to use but "looks easy to use" is not in the sentence at all. It says it is easy to use. But seeing how Hinata has never used this shower before, I have to conclude he is speaking of shower rooms in general, not just this shower room.

Because of context carrying over, that makes the next line - if we go with option 1 - sound like he is speaking on this same broad topic: of shower rooms in general.

He specifically uses 試しはない which is extremely emphatic. Well, the extreme emphatic version is 試しがない, but for the purpose of this they're interchangeable. It means that something has never, ever happened. There is no precedent for it. This makes Hinata's claim that he has "literally never, ever felt comfortable showering" sound...extreme. It's part of what throws me off. That is, I'm unsure why the writers would put that in there. There's also the last part - この状況だもんな. If going with version 1, この (this) here would be used derogatorily, as in "this bastard" or "this guy!" and such. 状況 means state of affairs, and もんな would be used to express annoyance. Basically going, "Ugh, this situation...what a pain..."

Now in option 2...it is predicated on if the last sentence is meant to re-contextualize the first. It's very much an odd way grammatically to write it at least in my opinion, but people do that in real life all the time. "I lost it. My keys, that is." - for example. In this case, Hinata's words about never feeling comfortable showering would be completely dependent on the last sentence. "I can't ever imagine feeling comfortable showering. In this situation, that is."

もんな can be used also to give an explanation. Think of it like "because". Hence the janky official translation - they're trying to word "because it's this situation." and obviously, Hinata would be using この neutrally here and not as a derogatory prefix.

The reason I'm flipping back and forth is because of the following reasons:

Objectively, it makes more sense of Hinata to say he would not be comfortable showering in this situation than to say he's not comfortable showering at all. Like, ever.

The sudden break of context - that being all shower rooms - can be explained by the last sentence: him rewriting perspective retroactively by saying "in this situation, I mean."

However, in my limited experience with 試しがない, I don't think I've ever heard it about hypotheticals, only actual things. That is to say, Hinata saying he wouldn't feel comfortable is a hypothetical. My brain automatically wants to assume he's talking about an actual event. It's along the same lines of "My son never drinks responsibly" or "she never gets along with new people" - these are statements that imply past events that prove the rule. That's the only way I've seen 試しがない used. This is in part because, again with the would usage, I don't see it being used for future events. Hinata has not bathed in this shower yet. Using 試しがない makes way more sense if he's talking about his past experiences about showering, "I have never (before)..." but again, since he's not used this shower, he cannot be referring to a past experience.

I hope you can see my confusion...I'll be honest, my contact with 試しがない as a phrase has been limited. I feel like if I can find evidence for it being used for hypothetical future events, then I will confidently conclude it's number 2. Until then, it literally goes either way for me.

If you have insight I'd be more than willing to hear it out.

Edit: I want to add a more clear TL;DR.

I feel option 2 makes the most sense from the perspective of being stuck in a killing games. However, the past tense and literal usage of 試しはない makes it impossible for Hinata to be talking about a future hypothetical. Gramatically, with 試しがない meaning that something has never once occured - placing it in the past by default - I find it hard to then fit that with something that Hinata has no past frame of reference to.

[lillyjen]

You joined the crew 6 months ago as a replacement for an elderly mechanic who finally retired after a lifetime of serving on stations the galaxy over.

It was hard to fit in at first; everyone else on the crew has been here since day 1, after all (that's the thing about deep space outposts, they're not exactly easy to get to, so the station & the crew are usually assembled together) but over the last couple of months you've really started to find your niche.

You expected the feeling of being watched to fade over time, as people got used to you & stopped side-eyeing the newcomer (not that you ever saw them doing this, but that's what it felt like was happening). Instead, the closer you get to the rest of the crew, the more the feeling increases. It's a good job you bunk with 3 other crewmates or you don't think you'd ever get any sleep. As it is, you still wake up several times a night in a cold sweat.

You didn't even consider the AI as a possibility until that day in the breakroom when everyone was joking around with it & telling it it was the best AI ever & you realised the AI you knew was completely different to the one everyone else knew. Ingratiating & helpful, yes. But also strangely nosy, like it needed to know highly specific details about your motivation before it would do anything for you. Everyone else says it seems to know what they're thinking without asking. Of course, it was programmed with them in mind. It wasn't programmed for you. You're not Greg. (Not that that should make a difference, but no matter how you look at things apparently it does.)

Last week you tried to get a message out to a pal of yours who's an expert in AI. It wouldn't send. The messages to your family got off just fine. So did the one to your friend in a different department at the same university (you felt a bit guilty about using them to test your theory - after all, you probably would've gone another 5 years without talking if not for the current situation - but it's not like anything you said was a lie, it just wasn't the whole picture).

You don't dare tell anyone on board; they'll either think you're crazy (& you do really need this job - there's always a reason people end up in the deeps), or you'll be putting them under the AI's scrutiny, too, & you can't risk that. Not while none of you can leave.

For now, you'll just have to watch the AI as closely as it's watching you. But carefully. You don't want anyone thinking you're obsessed with it....

Writing Prompt I'm Not Going To Use But You Can If You Want:

Aboard the Space Station, the Station AI is everyone's friend. They're kind, understanding, funny and a good listener.

Except, they're obsessed with you.

They are the Station, so you have no way to get away from them, and their advances are getting more and more unwanted. They do not take no for an answer, and you're pretty sure they're watching you wherever you are.