#sometimes a reread reveals more answers than we think

[ablogofloveandtrash]

Why was Diana so Reluctant to Open Up and Tell the Truth?

Returning from a previous post I had sent on this blog, I had theorized that Diana may have potentially gone through some experience in the past that has prevented her from being able to properly open up. I was rewatching the trial from chapter 1 and from what I could find on rewatch, is that Diana seemed to be particularly concerned about how others around her would react. And from three different lines of dialogue that I could find, is that Diana seems to be afraid of not being heard out or invalidated. Considering her bio states that she was in the popular crowds before the events of the game, it seems like Diana's fear came from the draw backs of being in the popular crowd. And in being part of the crowd, she would become much of the subject of conversation. She got so much attention on her, which may have caused her to become alienated or isolated in an emotional manner. In the screenshots I have provided, Diana has mentioned things like how others could twist her words around. Suggesting that she may have attempted to dispel or disprove untrue rumours about her. Which resulted in the aftermath not going her way and ultimately nothing was solved. The first screenshot details this aspect of her.

And because Diana must have failed to stop these rumours, this may explain why she often blames herself for not doing the 'right' thing or perceives herself as powerless. Because, Diana was caught up in an unfair situation. The rumours may have gotten so out of hand that Diana may have been cornered and forced herself to remain quiet. Complicit that these misconstrued words were true. She has likely accepted that at the time she couldn't change what others thought about her, and as much as Diana didn't like these rumours, she must have chosen to stop saying anything.

And this may have resulted in potential self isolation or some emotional blockage. As a means to avoid getting hurt by the people she cared about. For her own reasons, Diana seems to feel like telling the truth things would 'just get worse' in the following screen shot, the next sentence may allude to the case. But it does seem to be telling of what she feels about her self worth. She doesn't seem like her input is anything good. And that she would be better off staying quiet. Because she may have blamed herself for the rumours that occurred or worsened, because of her attempts to intervene.

It is possible that Diana could tell Damon about this particular issue in the story in Daily Life or from the Free Time Events, since Damon still needed to persuade Diana to explain her case. With some empathy, Damon may have used the right words to help Diana feel at ease to tell the truth. Assuring that he would listen and hear her out. Which may have not been something, Diana herself couldn't have had before the free time events or the trial. It's a stark contrast compared to the second free time event. Where he made his accusation of her being suspicious and making Diana uncomfortable with opening up. Though between the free time events and in the story, no one really truly knows why Diana is so afraid to open up, and be fully honest with others around her. In relation to a character like Damon, he is someone who is used to biting his tongue when others don't trust him or have something that would antagonize him. He doesn't open up to anyone because he percieves his vulnerabilities as an exploit. Yet in a similar vein, Diana too, cannot be vulnerable around others, out of fear that she would not be listened to. Potentially invalidated, unwanted or even abandoned. Possibly out of these fears she can't bring it in herself to lose her 'friends' again, and validates her helplessness by the end of the trial. The way Diana and Damon seem to handle their experiences past and present couldn't be anymore different from one another, yet they share an underlying similarity that sets up an interesting character dynamic. Damon acts more empathetic in response to her emotional distress. And in response to Damon's empathy, Diana was able to properly open up and have her voice heard in the court room. From this interaction it maybe possible that while tension between Diana and Damon will persist, ie: "I will follow in Wolfgang's Footsteps" (this maybe the source of Damon's anger in the end, not Diana's speech, exactly as many cut him out to be), it may fall on them growing closer that may allow them to become the better versions of each other. By helping each other out and setting their differences aside, for a greater common goal.

[blrecs]

12/50: second draft (marukido maki, "pornographer" series)

Before falling back into bl fandom (thanks for nothing, June!), I was watching a lot of videos about conscious consumerism and booktok fandom. For a while, despite being hobby-less, I found myself contemplating how more and more modern hobbies have more and more become about consuming, buying, purchasing, collecting ever more things. Even reading has become a hobby about consumption rather than contemplation or meditation. In the loudest, most obvious corners of "reading as fandom," if reading is that, the hobby is defined by book hauls, buying new releases, subscription boxes, exclusive editions—the hallmarks of buying as a hobby rather than doing.

How do we make reading a hobby that isn't about spending money, and how, specifically, do we do this in the context of bl manga? I think it feels even more potent in bl manga because we the readers feel it is our obligation to support it, and more importantly, that our support allows the hobby to continue and proliferate. For example, we believe (and I am not saying we are wrong to do so) that if we buy more licensed bl and support reading/buying bl on their official platforms, the companies will keep licensing new series and even bring us the specific series we want. Too, as the hobby becomes more normalized, we encounter new and different (and, sometimes, bad) ways of doing fandom, like sharing screenshots of scanlations while tagging the authors. Faced with bad behaviors and bad actors, we try to rehabilitate our image, convince people that we are serious, we are a force to be reckoned with, that we matter. And how do we do that in this current world, if not through money?

But I bring these questions to you not to answer them, but to disregard them. As a consumer, as a reader, as a hobbyist, I don't have the responsibility, and certainly not the ability or the know-how, to fix the problems with the industry. I think of myself instead like an ancient wine priestess: mystic and superfluous, responsible not for portents or prescriptions, but rather for doling out the simple pleasures of the present. Others may come with solutions; I, for one, prefer to spend my time talking about bl delusions.

This is of course why I feel so strongly about writing about bl, and doing so in a serious way. It keeps the hobby fresh, forces me to revisit the things I have already bought, and to bring them alive in a way that isn't about buying more things. Rereading, sometimes over a period of years, coming back to stories as a changed person and discovering new reasons to love them—these are ways that I already interact with non-bl anime and manga, that feel normal and even laudatory as I've gotten older. I want to make that a way of interacting with bl too, that the bl stories we read are capable of having the same kind of lasting power, the same kind of emotion.

And so, this week, I want to talk about Marukido Maki's "Pornographer" series, a story about writing that I have read and reread many times.

In 2020 I got a Futekiya sub simply so I could read "Pornographer" and even wrote a little blurb about it. Normally, this would mean that I would consider this series off limits for another long post. After all, what more can I say that I haven't said already? I stand behind every word of my first pass. Kijima is a deliciously bad man who seems designed by Marukido specifically to torture Kuzumi, an innocent himbo with a very rich inner life. That Kijima manages to snag Kuzumi and keep him through the end of "Pornographer" speaks not to Kijima's virtues but rather to the suspension bridge effect of it all. Caught up in Kijima's elaborate lies and then very dramatic reveal of his lies, then strung along for two years while Kijima tries to find himself and a way out of his writer's block, Kuzumi really had only two options: strangle Kijima himself or fall in love with him, and the genre isn't called "boys' ligature."

If there is one fault with "Pornographer" and "Playback," it is that Kuzumi's interiority is not as well-developed as Kijima's, despite being the POV voice in "Pornographer." But perhaps that is because Kuzumi is so normal. It is normal to fall for the seductive, flirtatious older person who talks to you about your erection, it is normal to be upset that he lied to you for months and then ran away after a night of impassioned sex and seven orgasms, it is extremely normal to be furious when he then tries to recreate your meet-cute with another man. What is less obvious, maybe, is what keeps Kuzumi in love with Kijima. This time, in 2025, as I reread the series and especially "Playback," I think what he was drawn to was Kijima's natural loneliness. Kuzumi himself wasn't able to articulate this until chapter 3 of "Playback," when, passed out and lightly concussed from falling down a flight of stairs, he remembers the moment he started falling in love with Kijima. He had been washing Kijima's hair and talking about his parents eventually replacing a beloved family pet who had died of old age. Kijima implies that Kuzumi's family had gotten a new dog because Kuzumi had moved to Tokyo. "If I were your parents, I'd probably be sad too. I'm sure their home without you there was very quiet and lonely."

Kuzumi may not realize it, but in that concussed montage of the moment he began falling in love with Kijima, thinking of Kijima talking about loneliness, Kuzumi has finally seen Kijima as a writer. Writers are inherently lonely people. To write, or at least to want to write, is to be separated in some way from the normal flow of life, to be an observer even in your own life. Like all sentimental writers (myself included), Kijima has a bad habit of being nostalgic for something he has not yet lost. He is unable to be in the moment and enjoy Kuzumi washing his hair without thinking of himself becoming Kuzumi's parents, eventually left with a quiet and lonely home, having allowed Kuzumi to walk out of his life. Perhaps he thought of himself like Kuzumi's dog: helpless, fading, able to enjoy Kuzumi's kind ministrations only because it is temporary. Even at the very end of the series, when in "Spring Life Part 2" Kijima agrees to move in with Kuzumi, Kijima is unable to do so without thinking of endings. "Don't get sick of me and toss me out on the streets," he says, to a man who has had more than enough reasons to do just that and has resisted the impulse each time.

At this height of happiness, about to cohabitate with a man who loves him so much, Kijima remains tortured by happiness as a phase that will pass, of happiness that speaks to the possibility of future loneliness. And this is what inspires him to get out of bed, a bed he is sharing with a man who loves him so, so much, so that he can write. There is no panel that speaks more purely to Kijima's nature than the last page of "Spring Life Part 2." He sits, solitary, at the dining table in the dead of night, smoking. He is separated from the man who loves him by a door, a door that man has shut on purpose. It is because that man loves Kijima so, so much that he has closed the door, so that he does not interrupt Kijima's writing. In that moment, Kuzumi does not call Kijima by any of his names. He says, instead, from a tender but melancholy distance, "goodnight, sensei."

This distance between Kuzumi and Kijima is what brings me back to the "Pornographer" series time and time again. Younger me wrote that this series was "an ode to the idea that love is not the end of two people's identities as individuals, that a relationship is not about two halves becoming a whole, but rather a space for two people to be whole together, to be together while being apart." And I do love that and agree, but now I wonder if all that is only true because it is reflective of how Kijima—and maybe Marukido herself—thinks about writing. Perhaps to Kijima, the defining characteristic of a writer is some inherent badness. Or the other way around, that writing makes a person bad, hence why he, and Gamouda, and Kido all are "bad people." This "badness" means for Kijima that he feels forever quarantined from his friends and family and most of all from Kuzumi, who is bright and wholesome and untouched by writing of any sort. The only person Kijima feels no shame in holding onto is Kido. Kido can never reject him, because Kido at least was once a bad person—that is, a writer.

There's an uncanny parallel between Chapter 4 of "Playback" and Chapter 6 of "Mood Indigo." In both, there's a sense of leave-taking, that Kijima and Kido are nominally putting their relationship to bed, while secretly keeping silent about their own lingering feelings. In "Playback," Kijima is firm in his verdict that he and Kido would have never worked in a relationship, and Kido seems to agree. But I think there's a reason Marukido doesn't show you Kido's face in that moment. Because I think in that moment, Kido is not being a good friend, or a good editor, or a good person. I think in that moment Kido is relapsing. He is remembering that he was once a bad person, and that as a writer his heart can violate the laws of time and physics, letting go of a thing he never had in the first place. The awful truth is that writing made Kijima and Kido into twin flames. That doesn't mean they can be together, but it means they'll always share something Kijima and Kuzumi can never share. Perhaps that is why throughout the entirety of the series, Kijima never "reads" Kuzumi in to the events of "Mood Indigo." He'll share the secret of "Spring Life" and Gamouda, but not this. Well, perhaps that is the role of the editor, that fate that Kido eventually surrenders to: to transform a bad story into a good one, and to show the writer—Kijima—in the best light possible.

You can read the Pornographer series on Manga Planet (formerly Futekiya). One day we will get it in print. I believe it.

[the-new-ribbon]

Baby, We're Fireproof

synopsis: After Gwyn's toaster catches fire, she never expected to fall for the hot firefighter who saves her. 

word count: 2118

read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54961258/chapters/139663018

or below the cut!

Azriel

Azriel: I can’t wait to see you tonight.

Gwyn: I can’t wait to see you.

Gwyn: I’m so excited ☺️

Azriel hasn’t been this excited for something in a long time. A week ago he saved the copper-haired, teal-eyed beauty from a small toaster fire. He hasn’t stopped thinking about it all week. Cassian has noticed too. The way Azriel reacts to the way his phone vibrates on the table. The smile on Azriel’s face whenever Gwyn texts him. Sometimes it’s a meme or a funny video that makes Azriel laugh so hard his cheeks hurt, sometimes it’s her reactions to the book he pointed out that day, or it’s a picture of her. Those are his favorite texts from Gwyn. The romance she’s reading lies on her chest or covering her smile, though he can tell she’s smiling from the way her skin wrinkles at her eyes and the pink blush creeping out from beneath the book. 

The day passes slowly as he rereads the book in case it comes up in conversation, he wants to be prepared to talk about it with Gwyn. 

Soon enough, it’s time to get ready.

Azriel changes into his classic black button-up, rolling the sleeves up to reveal the swirls of black ink on his forearms, matching the black slacks on his legs. The silver bands on his fingers shine under the fluorescent lights of his bathroom. Night-chilled mist and cedar fills the bathroom as he sprays his cologne.

He’s able to get through starting dinner – seasoning the chicken and leaving it in the hot pan to begin cooking, fresh cut green beans and the cut and washed potatoes are placed in the water-filled pots to begin cooking – before there’s a knock on his front door.

Azriel’s ringed fingers brush through his hair and he wipes his palms on his pants before pulling the door open to reveal Gwyn.  

“Hi!”

“Hey, Gwyn.” Azriel says, nerves wracking through his body. “You look really nice.” Nice? That’s the worst word he could have used to describe her. “I mean beautiful, you look beautiful.” ethereal would be an even better word, just like the books. But beautiful will suffice. 

Gwyn is dressed in an emerald dress that fell right below her knees. The sleeves cover most of her arms but leave some of her forearms and wrists exposed. The green contrasts perfectly against her copper hair, which is tied half up with a write ribbon. It was styled that way too, the day they met for the first time.

“Thank you. May I come in?” Gwyn points to the foyer of his house.

“Oh yes, of course, obviously.” he quotes what she said the day they met with a ridiculously cheesy, flirty smile.

“Quoting me I see. I must have had a good impression on you.” she teases. 

In his head, Azriel knows that this girl is his dream girl. Now he has to prove it.

“Setting a toaster on fire is a good way of doing that.” he teases back.

This banter is what Azriel has always looked for. He’s never found it with anyone, but now with Gwyn, he doesn’t think anyone could ever come close.  

“You have a piano? Do you play?” Gwyn immediately runs out of the kitchen and across the living room to where the piano rests in the corner, the last rays of the sunset flood through the windows onto the piano.

“Sometimes. My mother plays more often when she’s over. Do you?” Azriel reaches her as she takes a seat in front of the piano. He leans on his elbows as he watches her. There’s a glimmer in her eyes as she presses her delicate fingers so softly on the keys that no notes play. 

“I do. My sister and I used to play when we were little. She grew out of it – she was more wild and adventurous than I was – but I love to sing and play the piano. Now I play to remember and honor her memory.”

Azriel notices something shift within Gwyn. The use of was made him assume something happened to her sister, but he doesn’t push her to answer. After all, they’ve only been texting and known each other for a week.

“Do you mind if I play?” Gwyn asks. Then clarifies, “just for a few moments?”

“Not at all, I’m going to check on dinner. I’ll be right back.” Azriel leans off the piano and smiles at Gwyn before he’s off to the kitchen. If only it was appropriate to kiss her cheek. 

The soft melodies of Moonlight Sonata fill his house and suddenly it feels like more of a home than ever before. 

He may have stayed in the kitchen far longer than he thought because the fifteen minutes of Moonlight Sonata have passed and his house is quiet once again, only the soft scuffs of Gwyn’s shoes and the scraping of the pots and pans as he begins to plate dinner.

 “That was beautiful, Gwyn.” Az confesses, leaning against the counter and Gwyn slides onto one of his barstools at the counter, though she doesn’t stay there longer than a few seconds. 

“Thank you, it’s one of my favorite pieces to play. Especially at night. Maybe you should play for me.” she suggests, stepping so close to Azriel that she can reach out and hold onto the collar of his shirt.

His heart beats against his chest as she begins to slide her other hand up and over his chest. This boldness she’s portraying, it’s Azriel’s favorite thing. Sure, they have flirted over text, but this is completely different. 

He wants more of it.

“Maybe I will. Now,” His hand slides across her waist to hold her. There’s a slight tense up but then she relaxes into his hold. He changes the conversation, “Are you okay?”

“Yes; I just haven’t been on a date in years, I’m not very used to this. But I like it.” There’s a confirming smile on her face as her hands connect behind Azriel’s neck.

“Good, but please let me know if you aren’t comfortable or if there’s something I can do.”

“I will. Now please tell me what you were going to say before.”

“Why’d you call me Shadowsinger?”

“You were humming under your breath when you were at my house and there’s something mysterious about you that I want to get to know.” Gwyn says sweetly, playing with his hair on the back of his head. There’s a smile on her face that Azriel wants to paint into his mind forever.

“Well, I hope you liked it.” Az laughs.

“I did, it was beautiful. Do you sing?”

“Sometimes, though I don’t believe it is as beautiful as yours.”

There’s a blush on her cheeks again, highlighting the constellations of freckles on her cheeks. 

“We should sing together sometime, then I can see if you’re telling the truth or not.”

He clears his throat, “Will you help me set the table? Dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, yes.”

Hesitantly, Azriel lets go of Gywn and she steps away. Azriel lays the bowl of freshly made mashed potatoes on the table. Gwyn asks, “Is there anything I can do to help? You made such a nice dinner and I haven’t helped yet.”

“I didn’t mind at all, Gwyn. But you could find something to drink if you’d like. The alcohol is in that cabinet and any other drinks I have – water, lemonade, stuff like that – are in the fridge.” 

She sticks to something non-alcoholic and somehow he has the ingredients to make a Shirley Temple. He really listened to what she said on the 

They stick to simple, first date conversation for a while until something hits Gwyn and she asks, “Is it appropriate to ask what happened to your hands?” Gwyn asks softly, looking up at him quickly before looking back down at her plate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It isn’t any of my business and we don’t know each other that well.”

Azriel reaches out and places his scarred hand on top of Gwyn’s. “Gwyn, this is a date, a chance to get to know each other.”

It’s almost like a movie or one of her books. Whatever is going on between them, it’s something Gwyn thought was possible in the worlds that lived inside her head. Ruby red flushes on her cheeks at the touch of Azriel’s hand and at his words. She rotates her hand and laces her fingers with Azriel.

“When I was young, my mother and I were in an accident. Our house caught on fire and while my mother ran outside, I ran back in to grab something. The fire picked up and I almost got trapped. Luckily the fire department was already there and saved me. I was bullied for most of school because of my hands, so I isolated myself but I always wanted to help people, to save people. When I graduated high school, I never really wanted to go to college so I went to the fire academy. I have my paramedic certification as well.” Azriel nods and reaches for his glass of whiskey, a way to protect himself from potentially doing something stupid.

Gwyn drops her fork and holds his hand with both her hands. “Azriel,” she whispers, lifting his hand to her lips. Her lips softly brush against the healed scars. 

To outsiders, it might not seem like a big deal. But to Azriel, it means everything.

After many feelings about leaving dishes in the sink long after dinner, the dirty dishes rest in the sink until after their date is over, Gwyneth and Az sit outside on his patio. For a house in the suburbs, his back patio is large. It’s decorated with minimal patio furniture, mostly a darker gray, and there’s a firepit in the center of the patio.

“Have a seat, I’m going to start a fire.”

The fire crackles, crickets chirp in the distance, and the two of them cuddle in silence. Both of Gwyn’s hands are holding one of Az’s and his other arm is wrapped around her shoulders.

“It’s beautiful here.”

With her eyes on the stars, Azriel takes the time to admire how beautiful she is; how right her hand feels in his; how perfectly her meshes into the Azriel’s side. The constellations of stars in the sky can’t compare to the freckles on her face, dotted across her neck, and even her chest and shoulders. If he were to open a dictionary to the word beautiful, Gwyn’s picture would be there, front and center.

“It is,” he says softly, his eyes never leaving Gwyn. 

“I think I take how beautiful Velaris is for granted. After tonight, I won’t anymore.” There’s something in her voice that makes it seem like there’s a story to that, but as she leans closer into Azriel and rests her head on his shoulder, he drops his head onto hers.

It’s almost midnight when they stand up and head towards the front door, hand-in-hand of course.

“I had a wonderful time, Azriel.” Gwyn leans against the door frame as she holds his hand in both of hers. Az’s other hand is against the hinge, above her head.

“So did I; would you like to do it again sometime?” 

With a smile on her face, Gwyn pushes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to Azriel’s cheek. “I’d love to.”

As Gwyn lowers from her tiptoes, Azriel never breaks eye contact and there’s something beautiful that sparks in his chest. 

Letting go of her hands, Azriel moves to hold her cheeks. “Would it be okay if I kissed you, Gwyn.”

Gwyn nods softly, but the look in her eyes tells Azriel that it’s something she wants more than anything. 

This kiss picks up and Gwyn’s arms are back around his neck. It’s wonderful, magical, and neither of them don’t want it to stop. 

But it does moments later.

His thumb runs across his now swollen bottom lip, and Gwyn is breathless as she begins to step outside. But she stops, wrapping her hand around the door hinge and turns over her shoulder, “Call me, Shadowsinger. You owe me a song, and I’d love to do that again.” her finger runs across her smirked mouth.

“Good night, Gwyn.”

As he watches Gwyn walk towards her car, all he can think about is how lucky he is that Gwyneth Berdara wants to see him again.

A line I couldn’t fit in because of how the story proceeded, but would love to include: “I want to kiss each and every one of your scars and tell you how beautiful they are.”

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-04-29

back from the work conference.

Listening: Podcast entry here, I am just into the part where I think The Magnus Archives starts getting good, around the late 80's when we start getting some answers for why the Institute is like that.

I have often been a person who complains when a monster-of-the-week story stops being monster-of-the-week to pursue drawn out plotlines, so it's nice that there's the regular supply of statements that occasionally intersect with the main plot.

Reading: Didn't feel like taking Piranesi on the work trip so it's been on hold, instead got through the back half of the Harrow reread. She's so broken up over Gideon she drives me insane. I'll get to Nona at some point. Once again it really is a different book when you have all the facts in your head ahead of time.

I do desperately want to see extended versions of some of the dream river bubble AU's that show up when she unfucks her brain. I know some of them have names you can search on AO3 I just can't remember what they are now.

Watching: Rewatched Titane (2021) because sometimes you need some distressing body horror. Truly one of the gender movies of all time.

Titane has me constantly yelling at the screen going "what is your plan here. what is your next move. why are you doing this."

Playing: A couple coworkers brought interesting card games to the conference and I hung out for a couple hours playing them on the last night.

6 nimmt! is a really clever compact card game that takes the form of a modified game of Reverse Nim with closed hands and multiple stacks. Supports a very large number of players efficiently.

Spot it! which is a game I've seen around but never played, a kind of hyper-snap. There's a deck of 55 cards with 57 symbols laid out so that every card has one and only one symbol in common with any of the other cards. Reveals how astoundingly hard it can be to pattern-match on two large sets of complex images.

Making: More progress on the lua ws2812 driver, running into memory issues that I need to understand rather than just winging it. As always I could utterly trivialize this by just using an application processor but it feels like overkill.

Tools and Equipment: If you use a terminal on a computer I have to recommend bitmap fonts. Conventional vector fonts look nice and smooth and they work well when you don't know what size text will be displayed but being able to do perfect pixel alignment on all your characters makes them both bold and compact, allowing for crisp neat edges and high contrast.

[theycallmebun]

people of the same passion

asahi azumane x gn!reader

w/c: 716

genre: fluff(meetcute)

warnings: none!

summary: y/n and asahi learn more about each other at the local cafe!

a/n: i think this might be a pt1 

you don’t know how the two of you haven’t met sooner. i mean, for so long, you were right in front of each other. literally, sitting at tables across from each other at your local cafe. both having claimed seats to sit in every friday and saturday evening. you don’t know if asahi– you learned that was his name when the barista called him up for his drink– frequented the cafe more than you, though. 

of course you noticed him whenever you were there, how couldn’t you? that brown hair tied back loosely, revealing his chiseled jaw and muscular neck– you’re getting carried away. he was nice to look at but you never worked it up to introduce yourself and get to know him. and, you had other things to do anyway.

the creativity that buzzes through your head needs to be written. so many beautiful thoughts and ideas turned into lovely little stories and poems for you to reread on a bad day. turning your thoughts into interpretive art is your favorite activity. you often catch yourself daydreaming about anyone and anything, transforming that into some crazy tale blown way out of proportion. 

you never approached asahi because, by the looks of it, he had other things do, too. whenever you glanced at him, he’d have his bulky headphones on, writing something down on a pad while bopping his head. 

the both of you were just so busy, caught up in your own worlds. 

until one faithful day, the new barista at the cafe, bless her soul, calls out, “jasmine tea, hot,” and leaves it on the counter. 

you thought it was weird that she didn’t call out a name like how they normally do, but you stand up to get your drink. asahi stands up, too. you don’t question it, though, what if he just needs some napkins or something? it’s awkward when the two of you fall in step together and it’s even more awkward when you both grab the drink simultaneously. then, in turn, flinching away from the drink simultaneously. 

“sorry, we must’ve ordered the same thing. go ahead and take that one, i’ll wait for the next one,” you take charge of the situation. 

“oh, i was about to insist on you taking this one. i don’t mind waiting,” he responds politely. for how large he is, he’s pretty timid. 

you laugh softly, he’s cute, you think.

before you can say anything, the new hire goes, “jasmine tea, hot,” again. 

you grab the cooler one, hoping asahi appreciates the fact that you gave him the hotter and fresher tea. 

before you walk away, asahi says, “would you like to sit with me? i understand if you can’t, you look pretty busy sometimes.”

“i would love to!” you gleam at his offer. 

you introduce yourself on the short walk back to his table, and he does the same. when you’re seated, you ask about the cafe. 

“so what do you like to get done when you’re here?”

“i like to write lyrics for some songs i’ve been working on. when i come in, i normally have the music all done but i just need the words to add,” he answers. “what about yourself?”

“i like to write some stories and poems. nothing too serious, just a creative and emotional outlet for myself, you know?” you reply. 

“oh, that’s crazy. we’re like basically doing the same thing,” asahi points out. 

you both laugh because it’s true. 

“we’re people of the same passion,” you say. “that’s actually really good, let me write that down.”

asahi thinks you’re cute, too. 

you grab your laptop from your table and quickly open your notes. 

“sorry, i just have to write my ideas down as soon as possible, or else i’ll forget,” you excuse your abruptness. 

“don’t worry about it. i’ve got some ideas of my own that i need to write down, too.” 

and just like that, you and asahi fall into a productive silence while you write your racing thoughts down. 

“we should do this again,” you bring up. “it was really nice doing that with someone else around.”

“yeah, i couldn’t agree more. i think that was one of my best writing sessions,” asahi confesses. 

“i’m glad. i’ll see you around then?”

“absolutely,” he says. 

[quaranmine]

How do you go about writing mysteries? Like how your firewatch one has its slow drip of discoveries and backstories and stuff. I keep getting totally lost, cuz I already know my endings, and keep forgetting the audience doesnt and shouldnt know the same. Mysteries are fun. They are also the hardest thing ive ever tried to write.

Honestly, mysteries are SO hard. I don't really know how to write them well either. And your ask honestly surprised me some, because up until this point I have never really considered my AU to succeed as a mystery. There is some legitimate mystery in the story (as to where Mumbo is) but, as it becomes clear in chapter 10 I think, most of the things about the Forest Service, Grian's conspiratorial thinking, and finding someone to blame are just set dressing. Or, to give myself more credit, more character study than reality. Something I've had written in the outline since day one is "Is this a mystery, or is Grian just convinced it's a mystery?" Half of the mystery in the story is finding out what actually happened, and half of the mystery is actually just a character study on Grian's grief and thought processes.

I going to put the rest under a cut, it gets kind of long. I can probably talk about my AU forever honestly. And if anyone reading this isn't caught up to at least chapter 10 this will spoil things:

But anyway. I think the best advice I have is to work backwards. You say you already know your ending so it seems like you're doing that already. I knew from the moment I started working on the story how it was going to end, so working backwards from that is a matter of arranging things to be in the places you want them. Having a complete outline also helps because that's what helped me create that "slow drip of discoveries and backstories" because I wanted to reveal things at a relatively steady pace. As for forgetting that your audience doesn't know things...idk I just try to focus super hard on what has/hasn't been revealed and where everybody's povs are. I think that just becomes a learned thing. I don't just know more than the audience, I know more than all the characters too, and I have to make sure they all operate on exactly what they currently know. I think rereading your already-done work as you go helps to refresh you on this.

Another hard thing about mysteries is like....trusting the audience to make connections. I think that I often overplay my hand and spell things out because I am inexperienced in knowing where to draw the line. For this AU, I didn't really intend it to have any big twist ending. I wanted the truth to be telegraphed as the audience uses their own logic to realize that Grian's POV is biased. And even though I haven't released chapter 11 and 12 yet, I....think I succeeded? Based on the difference in comments from chapter 1 to chapter 10, I think most of my readers are where I want them to be. But I didn't know that until I actually released the chapters. Anyway, I think the surprise is less about what the answer is and more about how it all goes down.

In terms of backstories, Firewatch AU has an almost parallel "before" section. There is never a "flashback" to before Mumbo disappeared. The first scene of the story is the ground zero and we never go before that. So the timeline of the story is always "contained" despite skipping around sometimes? Over the course of the fic I slowly introduce scenes that eventually lead us into exactly how Grian got here in the present-day plot. Pretty much all the "before" sections emphasize one way or another that Grian has been struggling.

I guess I can summarize my intentions with the chapters? There's a specific structure to them and their purpose (if I could help it.) Sometimes I feel like I have this story structured within an inch of its life, which is one reason that I have been able to post as I go without needing to make any retroactive changes to already done chapters.

Chapter one: establishes the central problem in the story, introduces the main characters to each other, and introduces Grian's goals. Honestly, I think this is a great first chapter since it introduces everything it needs to. It swaps time periods more than any other one but that is because I specifically modeled it to reflect the intro of the game Firewatch.

Chapter two: introduces fire as a major plot element, and serves as character development and relationship development between Scar and Grian. Also introduces more of Grian's grief, his thoughts about search and rescue, and specifically (vitally, to the plot) allows Scar see just a glimpse of what's happening with Grian that Grian isn't telling him.

Chapter three: mostly vital character development (especially for Scar) and relationship development; I've got to set them up as becoming friends before the big stuff kicks in. also, fire lookout knowledge!

Chapter four: first big clue (found by chance, not by Grian, which sort of emphasizes the idea of things being out of anyone's control that comes up in the narrative a lot.) Bigger spotlight on Grian's emotions (understatement of the year.) Scar gets officially looped into the Real Story. From this point on the plot progresses relatively regularly.

Chapter five: more character development, and another backstory hint about Scar. also, now that Scar is looped in, he gets to contribute information to the plot by bringing the newest clue (that builds off the information revealed in chapter four) (hey grian, it turns out when you communicate to people they can assist you)

Chapter six: this chapter is mostly a flashback section, which i wanted to avoid in chapters but IIRC it was simply too long to include with chapter five. This section with Pearl serves to emphasize a few different self-destructive tendencies Grian has (isolation, his living space, his financial situation, etc.) And finally, more information Scar gives him since he has contacts from working there so long. Also, from here on out Grian's conspiratorial thinking grows.

-> side note, one part of this story being a mystery that was difficult was that like. without internet research being available in the 80s, most "detective" actions would naturally involve talking to people, interviewing, looking at documents, etc. but since grian is Alone, in the middle of the Wilderness, he has none of that. it's, uh, difficult to introduce clues when the main character has little ability to find them. I had to sit down and be like, realistically HOW can he solve this without just wandering around in the woods endlessly? It's not a fun story if all he does is hike around the forest. In the game Firewatch, that sort of worked, but that's because you're controlling Henry. It doesn't translate well to reading. But with Grian entirely on his own, exploring the forest is the only "tool" he has. So Scar is a useful addition since he actually knows people to talk to that Grian doesn't and can move things forward by bringing more information to the table. But I have to proceed carefully to ensure he isn't just a deus ex machina for any hard parts of the plot. Scar talking to someone off-screen can't solve every problem in the story or else it's a bad story.

Chapter seven: some conflict/roadblocks introduced, because Scar cannot just endlessly poke around and find information without repercussions. also, the govt loooooves to make information available only to specific people. you can and will get slapped on the wrist if you consistently overstep the boundaries of your job. also, i need Grian to contribue his own piece to solving the mystery without Scar, so with his boots-on-the ground he finds the trail Mumbo took to get to from point A to point B. He gets a dangerous idea that will later escalate the plot closer to the climax, since we're officially in the second half of the story. There's a flashback that is purposefully the first part of the story so far to have someone outright state they think Mumbo is dead (and of course it's Jimmy.) Ends with more character development for Scar.

Chapter eight: WOOOO SCAR CHAPTER! but not before some egregiously obvious foreshadowing and a distinct reminder that this is a story about fire. i break from my deep character pov for the first time just to give the readers some scientific and historical background. we finally learn more about Scar, which should in theory retroactively piece together why he specifically wants to help Grian so much: because he sees his own experiences reflected in what Grian is living through now. also, since so much of this story is Grian isolating himself and pushing help away, it is vital for him to be shown someone else Does understand him

Chapter nine: beginning of the end pt 1 of 3. we re-center fire as a risk in the story again. grian commits a few crimes, because his main motivation this whole time has been information. and he simply can't get that information sitting in a tower by himself in the woods. he is desperate to find puzzle pieces to slot together so that everything makes sense. this is also the height of his conspiratorial thinking and there's a big disconnect between how he views other people, and their actual actions. I initially didn't want the story to "leave" its main setting, I wanted it to be a bottle. But that just didn't work in practice when plotting this out.

Chapter ten: beginning of the end pt 2 of 3, and we bring the flashback scenes full circle by including grian's decision to become a lookout in the same chapter we learns he gets fired. a somewhat anti-climactic reveal of there not being all that much conspirarcy to Mumbo's disappearance, in a way that hopefully is not disappointing since hopefully everyone reading realizes Why grian was convinced of this and Why he's wrong. woooo fire again! the return of the mystical bike location that was introduced early in the plot! grian finally being forced to reckon with things he's been avoiding thinking about all story! a fallout between our beloved main characters at the 11th hour!

Chapter eleven and twelve: ???? coming soon but you can guarantee they'll deal with the loose ends here since this story is standalone in its plot

So, idk if that type of analytical breakdown is useful to you. But you can kind of see how my plot was guided by the constraints on my narrative--a lot of my choices involved either needing different characters to help grian, or needing grian to go somewhere else. but i constantly wanted to make sure that it made sense for Scar to help Grian, that Scar never overstepped his place in the narrative by being "all-knowing", and that all of Grian's decisions are driven, even to the point of Problems, by his grief. Also, to kickstart the plot, I needed at least one major shake-up to happen (in this story, finding the bike) or else Grian probably would have been just as doomed as everyone else to look in the wrong places. Since it's more or less a cold case, a breakthrough needed to happen to move things forward. So I suppose what I needed was: first, to know the ending I needed to get to; second, to know where I was starting; and third, to provide at least one major clue to give the characters an opportunity to unravel the rest.

Also, this is less about mysteries and more about characterization, but when writing Grian I put Mumbo at the highest priority in all situations. This means he is willing to tank his financial situation, his jobs, his relationships with his friends, and even commit crimes for Mumbo. He consistently does not consider his own future when making decisions. He's reactive and more than willing to take things to the extreme, which I think makes him honestly more fun to write about. I think his Drive pushes the story even when there's just dialogue sitting in a fire tower. One thing I never wanted to do in this story was soften characters' emotions or actions into something "easier."

anyway, this is a story about trying to find logic in places where there is none, coping badly and learning to cope, accepting support from others, grief, and finding closure <333 thank you for your ask it was very sweet to be asked for advice and hopefully SOMETHING in this essay helps <333

[dashielldeveron]

Is there any hints on who the next characters will be for your soulmate series if you write more? If it’s a secret or you don’t want to answer then do not feel pressured to reveal it. I love your soulmate series it is always the highlight of my entire week and I reread it so much, your writing is beautiful.

oh!! i forget that ao3 sometimes gets info tumblr doesn't: at the end notes on ao3, i usually say who's next. the info about routes and other upcoming projects are also here on tumblr in my navigation, which i update after posting something.

short answer: shigaraki's next.

a bit more: i only have definite plans for shigaraki and [secret character] routes. in the original plan for this fic about a year ago, i only had plans up to shinsou. around aizawa's route, dabi's route came to me through the scene at the cafe in which we look at ourselves. i've already written more routes than i intended.

and since i've said it on ao3 but not here: [secret character] isn't meant to be secret as in the connecting mystery throughout all routes (or, if you're into otome, he isn't the true route), or anything like that. i just........i think if i announced who it was, it'd colour his existing scenes in a sour way, and i don't want that to happen yet. i think if i were a reader of this fic and knew this character, i'd get sad when i see him in other routes. so. that's all.

i am entertaining the ideas of routes for other characters, but i don't have anything solid and will therefore make no promises. burdened with ideas. but i stay silly :3

and thaaaaaaaaaaaank you dearly for telling me you like my silly stuff enough to reread it; holy shit. this was absolutely lovely to come back to after my exams!!! you're very sweet!!!! xx.

[liangxinn]

hi, i don’t know if you check your tumblr anymore, but i just wanted to drop by and say that i absolutely adore your writing and i think you have a really magical way with words. i loved on-two, and i quite literally could not get sonagi out of my head for weeks (i’ve reread both too many times to count). thank you for sharing these works with us and bringing us invaluable pockets of joy and comfort; i hope you find as much happiness in writing these fics as i do reading them. i hope you’re doing well and that life is treating you wonderfully, or at least alright, because sometimes that is all we can ask for <3

as a side note, i was also just wondering if you have plans for posting your jock!jww and nerd!kmg au in the future? i don’t mean to place any pressure on you, i am truly simply curious - as a writer myself, i know how inspiration for ideas come and go and how our feelings towards our drafts can evolve over time, so it’s more than okay if the answer is no. the reason i’m asking is because i came across snippets of it on your twitter and fell in love with the au idea and the direction you took it, but really, no worries at all if it’s something that’s more in the past! i loved seeing the little scenes we got for wip wednesday here and there nonetheless :)

Hi!! Very sorry for my months-late response (my TMI in the totally mundane sense, I just finished my degree) but I have indeed been well ^^ I hope that you've also been able to find moments of happiness in your life ♡

It's been so long since I posted that it was a really interesting experience to look back at a few of my fics, and I'm super happy to hear that you liked them enough to reread :") Maybe it's recency bias -- if you can still call it 'recent' after a year -- but I'm quite fond of 소나기 especially. Actually, I still have half-written fic notes in my Tumblr drafts since I didn't see it through to the ending I'd envisioned. I remember it being pretty far out of my comfort zone. Even though the process was insanely long (the initial idea came to me in October 2021 LOL), I enjoyed every bit of it. I'd always intended for it to be a simple story with a gentle and warm atmosphere, just like kissing your lover while the rain strikes the roof above you... maybe that part 2 is back on the cards after all 💭

Jock!WW x nerd!MG...! What a blast from the past, omg, one of my VERY first Minwon WIPs :") I never even revealed the title! I got stuck about halfway through at the main point of conflict and... never picked it up after that 😅 I've on-and-off entertained the idea of just posting everything I'd written, but it's also in a weird sort of space where I find my old writing style to be a little juvenile, hahaha. I do think it would be a shame for it to never see the light of day after I put so much work into it back then, but it would need a decent amount of cleaning up before I could deem it readable. I also have the full plot outline lying around somewhere, so that could be a possibility too!

Thank you for stopping by, and for the opportunity to yap a little about my silly fics ♡

[semimedieval]

some addendums

"Rim! But that's actually a fake name, a code name if you like. Cause names have power so you don't just want go and give your name away to everybody" wait i did not fuuuucking know this line that rim says in 2.0 is fucking attributable back to 1.0 and to moopy. wow.

2. THE BOYS ARE FIGHTINGGGG

WOLFLOVER21: (Hey guys hard to say this but I don't think I can keep up with this fast pace!) SCRATCHLOVER999: I can hardly keep up too. TOESOCKSQUEEN: It only takes like 5 minutes to reread things. :) RASSBERRYCALLING: Hey my caras practically the main one right now and even the pace is so fast, I ain't top dog any more.

everyone is showing themselves excellently here. my own comments, if any existed, have been lost to scratch 2.0 update selective deletion. jack wins "scariest" - his 12 year old self's "i'm going to put a smiley face at the end of something kinda mean" strats scare me to this day. rp structure precludes "main characters", the word augustine is looking for is "plot driver", but we appreciate his diplomacy in reaching out to the other team. the katia jack and augustine school of friend group beef: "when you guys are being mean to virginia it is for petty and ridiculous reasons and you should apologize right now. when i am being mean to virginia my rage is holy and righteous and it is the only reasonable thing to be doing." so it continued for like two whole years.

3. rim asking monoceros "did you burn down goatville and if so why" was deeply embarrassing to me even at the time because my ass did NOT have a good answer for him

4. monoceros says he "used a fire extranei" to set fire to goatville, a fact that never reoccurs and is worth considering as an alternate plot for adventure 3.3 but i'm on the fence

5. captain pathetic perking up when he hears vague reaffirmations that his girlfriend has not dumped him yet (she has expressed no intention of doing so)

Chuji turned her attention away from James and quietly walked across the room. "Quartz honestly.. You torture my obsidian to much." she giggled. Obsidian perked up slightly and smiled at Chuji.

Also: this follows a completely insipid argument between obsidian and quartz that (if you adjust for Bad Writing Behaviors) reveals sad and real things about Quartz being very afraid of anything bad happening, from death to mild inconvenience, to the only family she has left. And also: "tozi stared at the wall, wanting them to shut up." omg the boys are fightinggggg what will happen????

6. as a final note before i start reading this summary of contributions: checking in with the quartz and spark show.

"Are you okay?" She placed the back of her hand on Quartz's forehead. "Nope. Not a fever." "Nothing like that," she muttered. "Just a bad mood..." "What is it? You can tell me. We're best friends remember?" She grinned. "Of course. But don't tell anyone." Quartz looked down. "I acted like a bit of an idiot in the morning today, sort of overreacted." she began. "But it gets the message across.. I'm worried about Obsidian. He's the only family I have left, and I love him more than anyone on earth." "He used to be so happy, but now....It's Chuji isn't it?" "Maybe," she replied, kicking moodily at a stone. "Tozi, that is. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's back,but... Well, Obsidian had always reacted to Tozi in strange ways. Ever since he came." Spark looked at the ground. She loved Tozi, but knew it would never work out. He loved Chuji and that was the way things were. Quartz glanced sideways at her. "We're wallowing in self-pity, Spark," she laughed. "BACON!" Spark giggled. Love wasn't everything, she still had a great best friend.

Then they yell a bunch of other ~omgeh so random X3~ words like "biscuits" and "totoro" because sometimes they are mild to moderate self inserts of how jack and katia see themselves at age 12. and within that context, it's quite sweet. the end <3 next time on the ill advised aote reread: the infamous poppyworth scene, and then OMG! LUPUS AND KY BROKE UP LAST NIGHT

[lightcreators]

also what umineko? Is it a show?

Oh well.

I did a short reply decades ago for a similiar question, though, I might ramble longer that time around for bring all explanations :)

It's a anime, yes. There is an 2009 anime I discovered back in 2010, where I truly fall in love with Daisuke Ono here *cough*, that I sometimes rewatch as a guitly pleasure, who summarizing the four Questions Arcs of the game. That anime have quality, nevertheless, it turned into an Battler vs Beato fight ... where it bigger than that. At the origin, Umineko no naku koro ni is an visual novel. A very LONG Visual Novel. As LONG could be to play Fate/Stay Night minus there is no options to pick, no dead end, nah, a river visual novel. There are two parts. One part is the Questions Arc with Legend, Turn, Banquet & Alliance of the Golden Witch. Second part is the Answers Arc with End, Dawn, Requiem & Twilight of the Golden Witch. The four ones show Beatrice at her greatness, and the last four EXPLAIN TO YOU who is Beatrice. Reveal itself is spoilers.

For personal story, I already knew what was 07th Expansion for have watched decades ago Higurashi no naku koro ni ... but Umineko GET ME. It spoke to me personally as it never does before, and since decades I had been rereading the VN. I started learning English for understand the VN back in 2010. I passed so many times reading forums about Umineko for understand. It became part of me. Hence, I am exploring everything. The whole When They Cry universe. Still want to explore the world of Umineko with discussed topics.

The content is pretty much simple : the Ushiromiya family go inside their usual conference in October 1986, but something happened, and an message bottle is found about what could have happened. A witch is put in blame. We are following Battler's perspective for a while discovering the world of witches, and facets about what happened, slowly going deeper and deeper inside the guts, as more supernatural creatures and more witches appear in the tale. The anime and the four arcs are mostly introduction to everything °-° It's showing an physical evidence of what happened, meanwhile an spiritual approach is brought to the Answers Arcs. For summazire it --- Umineko is an masterpiece Visual Novel. It's deeper than the form. It's made on various layers of meta. It's more of what you will think at the first approach. It's a life lesson, it's advice, it's an particular Divine Comedy between Purgatory & Heaven, it's the power of love and how imagination can have many consequences, it's also the weight of the stories and how characters can write their own. Also, it's available on Steam.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

I've noticed something very interesting about the structure of The Locked Tomb series recently, in that it is a series that is immeasurably more than the sum of its parts. Not that that's an uncommon thing for serialized media, it's literally the point of the format to tell a deeper story as a whole than is told in any one installment, but I think tlt is a particularly extreme example.

Like, gtn is the only book in the series that works at all as a standalone story. In most series, if you skip a book, you'll be confused about specifics and backstories and what have you, but you'll probably be able to follow along and get the gist of the theming, even if you miss some details and subtleties.

With this series, though, the subsequent books (especially HtN but also NtN) are essentially incomprehensible if you've skipped the previous books. They don't follow a predictable trajectory from the previous books that can be back-extrapolated from their stand alone contents. Like, genuinely try to imagine what you would think the previous books must have been about if you just read Nona. Imagine what you'd think the themes were. It's completely out of wack.

This is because each new book in the series isn't just a continuation of the previous books - it is in dialogue with the previous books. Each new book is a commentary on what came before, a reinterpretation that forces you to rethink or even reread the previous books with a different perspective that draws more layers of meaning to the surface. It makes the series feel like a knot that you're slowly unpicking - each new thread that is revealed to you changes how you perceive the weave of the previous threads.

I fucking love this. It makes the series incredibly rereadable, and it rewards spending a lot of time contemplating and theorizing about what you've read, which is excellent because the books are written in such a way that they invite you to ask questions without giving you answers. It make you feel ecstatic when you achieve a new level of understanding of a story you had thought you already understood.

There's a drawback to this, though, in that it makes the first read-through of a new book in the series the worst read-through. Again, HtN is infamous for this, verging on incomprehensible on a first pass but bristling with rich meaning and evocative prose on a second, but it's a trait that applies to all three books released so far. On a first read, lacking the context of the later series, GtN's story feels straightforward, sometimes juvenile, full of relatively simple but evocative characters, and burdened with what seems to be needlessly obtuse and obscure worldbuilding that only exists to slow down the reader's attempts to solve the murder mystery and to act as a backdrop to be cut through by Gideon's harshly modern and irreverent quips. (Sidenote, but as much as that is a thing that a lot of the fandom really enjoys, I know a few people who found that choice extremely jarring and unpleasant. It is a polarizing structural choice, it just doesn't seem like it because people who don't like it don't often stick with the series long enough to get invested in the deeper themes and plot of the series).

NtN too follows this format, although we don't yet have the added context of it's sequel, so a lot of what it has to say remains maddeningly out of reach. It certainly enriches rereads of the previous books, though; a lot of people have gone into great detail about how Nona's perspective on Kiriona reframes our perception of Gideon as a narrator. And John's accounting of the end of the world and the Resurrection adds so many more layers to all the interactions we witness in HtN.

It's just a very unique way to build a story, to start with something fairly simple and self-contained and then spend the next two books layering more and more meaning on those events. For me, it's not the characters (much as I love them) but the structure of the series that keeps me so fucking obsessed with these books.

[jumpscaregoose]

What are your thoughts on the character writing in Shaman King? I think it's pretty interesting since it doesn't always spell out everything for the reader.

sorry for leaving this for like 87 years I was deliberating my opinions and then I forgot

pinkie promise to not ignore more asks for this long please give me more things to drabble on about

this triggered an unskippable cutscene so I'm adding a read more but if you don't wanna be here for years me complaining is still above the cut (though I recommend being a nerd with me I have a graph)

anyways I have a running bit with myself whenever I'm googling something mankin related (like when capitalism was invented or the average altitude in hokkaido or something about lsd for the fiftieth time) that I do more research than takei did originally writing the damn thing. the exact words I say are usually "I should stop expecting takei to be good at his job when I do this" because takei does suck at his job sometimes. directing you towards him using the entirety of pre-colonial mesoamerica as a grab bag of random traits that results in hell for me googling stuff because ohmygod

I think the character writing is where this happens the least (though there was one point during my flowers reread where I had to step away from my computer because I forgot he did a thing and it was the SINGLE WORST THING HE COULD HAVE WRITTEN for those characters with that plot element but I digress that is a whole other thing that I am not qualified for)

the writing of our main characters (specifically pacing) is funny though one second I have a graph

these lines display (roughly) the points in the story where we're introduced to our five main characters and also the points where we get full backstory reveals

as you can see

takei what the actual fuck why is it so imbalanced

I think it's a cool funny haha but sir did you forget that one of your most important characters didn't have a full backstory for like four years

not much else to say about pacing except the manga is already really zoomy and when you don't give them enough episodes to adapt it you get an any% speedrun wr 19 hours 50 minutes whateverI'mnotdoingmoremath seconds also look at this typo I made writing this it's very important

ok right where we we

actually answering the ask sounds like a good idea now

overall I really like the characters in the shaman king manga, reboot anime, and what I've seen of the 2001 anime. I've already written an entire post about how much I love yoh and hao's writing. hana and alumi are neat and red crimson is an excellent manga but we're no here for sequels

also it's important to note that I have been staring at shaman king for like two years straight, I have no sense of what's obvious knowledge and what's obscure nolifer wisdom ( no idea where I fall on that spectrum basically)

recently I've been in a real x laws appreciation phase, I think lyserg's arc specifically is a neat and complex take on justice and healing. it feels like something that could realistically happen to a person, minus all the supernatural stuff of course

ever since I first watched the 2021 anime the summer it started airing I've also really liked ren. he's got the zuko type redemption arc thing going on, and while that's an age old trope something about the way he was written always gets me. watching 2021 episode 27 for the first time the day it came out (as the first episode I watched weekly btw, rip osorezan arc you're beautiful but the first time I watched you I was so preoccupied) was one of the most memorable media experiences I've ever had. 😲 face the entire time

horo's another fave writing wise, again mostly because I think the ridiculous pacing of his arc is Hilarious, but if you interpret it as takei being good at his job (possible but unlikely) his introduction scene is fantastic at establishing a character without letting you know you're missing something. I for one didn't notice until the narrative pointed it out at which point I freaked out a bit because oh no I ignored my son by accident. the wisdom kings fight still makes me lose it every time I watch it scene of all time as well (voice performance has to be my favourite part of that I don't think it would go half as hard animated without that)

those three are my favourite characters writing wise. I also think jeanne is cool but her entire arc is very similar to both lyserg's and ren's so I shan't elaborate. I will however tell you about the time I was sitting in math class when my teacher mentioned joan d'arc, I had what can only be described as a eureka moment, and spent five minutes frantically googling things until I zoned back in to him talking about the time he almost drowned in quicksand on mont saint michel

there's also some neat stuff with plant and flower symbolism that I haven't looked into in months but is pretty neat (I like the part where weed shows up because I am so very mature)

don't even get me started on the musical leitmotifs and themes (no seriously don't I have no real musical knowledge and no one to fact check my bs) but I did write another post about some of it if you haven't read it

uh in conclusion I don't think takei knows what he's doing sometimes, character writing in shaman king pretty good sometimes me likey, I will make graphs on a whim for basically no reason

here have another one I did in two minutes to explain ren and jeanne's parallel character arcs once

giveb me more mankin asks if you have any I have so many OPINIONS and TANGENTS I wish to be PROMPTED

[tulsa-trash]

Book Swap

Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice

WARNING(S): N/A

You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.

Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.

It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.

Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.

Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?

You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.

Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.

Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.

Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.

Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.

Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???

Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.

Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.

With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.

"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.

In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.

"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.

His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.

"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.

"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."

"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.

You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.

"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.

"Have you read it before?" He asked.

You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."

"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.

You snickered, "Must be really great."

"What ya got there?"

You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.

"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"

"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."

"Well what's it about?" He asked.

You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.

You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.

"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.

"That sucks." He said disappointedly.

You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.

"Hey, Pone?"

He hummed in response.

"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"

"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.

You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.

-

Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.

The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.

After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.

It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.

There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.

"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.

You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.

"You like him, huh?" He asked you.

You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.

"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."

"Does he know?"

"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."

"Why not?"

"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.

"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.

"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.

It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.

"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.

Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'

"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.

"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.

"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."

You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.

"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.

"Oh I don't think, I know."

You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.

"I like him too." You admitted.

Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Well... what should I do?"

"Tell him." Two replied.

"I agree." Johnny piped up.

Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.

"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.

"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"

"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."

-

Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?

Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?

Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.

Ponyboy: It's alright.

Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?

Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin

But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...

Ponyboy: Well... Go on then

Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it

I like you

like a lot

Ponyboy: As a friend or?

Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...

Ponyboy: Wait actually?

Y/N: Yes Pony

Ponyboy: Seriously??

Y/N: OMG YES!!

I LIKE YOU A LOT!

... im sorry if it weirds you out

Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.

SORRY

... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.

But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.

Y/N: Are you sure?

Ponyboy: Positive doll

Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?

Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?

Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)

Y/N: Well I would love to :)

[skzsauce01]

Cutie Pie

Synopsis: Who’s your secret admirer? Guess you’ll have to unmask him at your academy’s end-of-term ball.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Bang Chan, best friends Sana and Nayeon

Saturday was the most anticipated day of the week. The academy only allowed mail to be collected on Saturdays, so Jihyo, the unofficial resident adviser, would head down to the mailroom early in the morning and collect all the packages and letters for everyone in the hall. She didn’t need to do such a thing when everyone had access to the mailroom, but it was a passed down ritual from the opening of the girls’ dorm. There would always be a few girls in the common room, waiting for their deliveries of skin products and 3 AM impulse buys. You would know; you were a sucker for a sale, no matter how much money your parents made.

However, this particular Saturday, every single girl was awake at seven o’clock and impatiently waiting for Jihyo to appear. Even you, who had pulled an all-nighter on Thursday to cram study, had let your excited roommate and friend Sana drag you into the common room with no complaints. Despite how exhausted you felt, you wanted to know what the theme of the end-of-term ball was as well.

You yawned and huddled closer to Sana on the plush velvet couch. You wished she would have let you grab your thick comforter before you left. The usually lit fireplace — though more for decoration than actual function — held nothing but ashes, and the big, drafty room was colder than usual. You shivered and mumbled a few choice words to your roommate, who was in too good of a mood to retort back. Luckily, Nayeon, who was on Sana’s other side, threw a section of her own comforter to you, and you gratefully snuggled under it.

“Thank you,” you said, nose already buried by fluffy white fur.

Sana poked your arm. “What do you think the theme is this year?”

You shrugged. You were always bad at guessing. “Winter Wonderland?”

“That’s what we did two years ago!” she shook her head. “Hey, Nayeon. What about you?”

However, before Nayeon could reply, Jihyo entered the room with an armful of boxes. “Mail!” she cheerfully announced.

Normally, girls would descend upon her like a murder of crows to pick up their packages, but everyone stayed still and stared at the rolled up poster at the top of the mail pile. They all watched as she slowly set down the boxes in the middle of the room and eagerly waited for her to say the theme. But Jihyo only grinned and teasingly asked why no one wanted their orders.

“Jihyo! Tell us already!” Momo whined. She raised the pillow she was previously hugging, threatening to throw it at the older girl.

“Okay, okay,” Jihyo smiled. Agonizingly slow, she unrolled the theme announcement poster. “This year’s end-of-term ball is… Midnight Masquerade!”

A wave of gasps and whispers rippled across the room. This was something no one was expecting; more often than not, themes were recycled from the ones twenty years ago. Thrilled by the prospects of daring new outfits and dancing with a boy, the murmurs evolved into full length conversations. You slunk low into your seat while half listening to Sana and Nayeon decide what color to wear. A masquerade, huh? Not only were there now dresses and shoes to discuss, but also masks. Since everyone would be less noticeable wearing them, then maybe…

“Maybe your secret admirer will ask you to the ball!” Sana suddenly said out loud.

“Shh!” you hissed. You quickly scanned the room to make sure no one heard. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own worlds.

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t know about him at this point? He bought all your leftover apple pies during the Fall Festival.”

“Who could forget?” you said, remembering how fifty apple pies were bought in a single purchase.

You paced the tiny area inside the booth. It was the last day of Fall Fest, and there were still boxes of unbought apple pies. If you didn’t sell them all in an hour, the club would lose money. Not that it really mattered, you thought to yourself, as JYP was a private academy that received exorbitant amounts in donations and tuitions anyway. Surely the student council would allocate some funds for the Astronomy Club. However, the club’s reputation would be hurt, and selling apple pies had been your idea. Being president sucked sometimes.

Seungmin, another board member of the club, soon returned from his break, and you guiltily dumped the task on him. You promised to come back ten minutes before Fall Fest ended, and he merely waved you off. You spent the rest of the time doing your best to steal customers from other food booths, but no one seemed to want gourmet apple pie when there was a lobster food truck around.

When your time was up, you headed back to the booth with a frown and a posture that would have been deemed unacceptable by your mother. To your confusion and delight, there were no more pies left. Seungmin explained that someone purchased all of them on behalf of his employer. He also offhandedly mentioned that the man muttered, “What is that boy going to do with all this?” while handing him the money.

You prodded Seungmin for more answers, but that was all he knew.

“And he sent you that cute card after, too!” Nayeon chimed in.

You received the card the next Saturday after the festival. When you went to check if you got any mail, there was a horde of girls surrounding the coffee table. Momo had an envelope in her hand, and you assumed it was another letter for her from her long distance boyfriend, but to your surprise, Momo herself presented it to you with a flourish. The fancy white envelope had your name inked across the center in rose gold.

“Who is it from?” Dahyun asked, standing on her tiptoes behind you, trying to read over your shoulder.

You carefully opened it and immediately felt heat rushing to your face when you read the simple message on the creamy paper: “I think you’re a cutie pie” followed by a line drawing of an apple pie.

Dahyun had read it out loud, and news that you had a secret admirer spread throughout the academy like a wildfire. Even after a month, no one could even mention pie without a teasing glance in your direction.

“What if he reveals himself to you at the ball?” Jeongyeon stage-whispered. Evidently, no one wanted to talk about dresses anymore when a mysterious boy was involved. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Too flustered by being the center of attention, you didn’t respond. You had to admit, Jeongyeon was right. Six-year-old you would have swooned at the current situation, and bold thirteen-year-old you would have pestered anyone and everyone for more information. Fall Fest you simply kept the note hidden in your desk drawer and secretly reread it. Sana caught you once, and it was embarrassing to say the least.

“Y/N, are you busy then?”

Sana’s words snapped you out of your haze. You looked at her. “Hm?”

“Shopping next Sunday!” she brightly answered. “Nayeon said she’ll drive us!”

So, it was set. You and Sana would meet Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 to check out the new boutique downtown. However, you already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and were starting to draw the design in your head. You made a mental note to call up your favorite fashion house to place an order. You would go shopping for shoes, but the dress and its matching mask was a done deal.

Sana and Nayeon had similar ideas, and the three of you made a promise to each other and yourselves to only focus on accessories though you were sure that pact would be broken the moment you all stepped foot into downtown.

The rest of the week flew by quickly. Amidst doing homework and studying, you chatted with the other students about the masquerade, which was only a month away. Some of the boys started asking girls to the ball with elaborate bouquets, self-composed songs, and in one case, a choreographed dance number. Sana and Nayeon crossed names off their “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list with each asking. By Friday night, their list was tacked onto the bulletin board in the common room so other girls could contribute. You stationed yourself on a nearby couch, pretending to be busy typing an essay on your laptop. You were too curious to actually write anything, so instead you watched like a hawk whenever someone even came close to the bulletin board.

“... and Ok Taecyeon,” Dahyun read aloud. “So, it’s not them. How about…” She closed her eyes and jabbed her finger to a random spot. “The wall?”

“Definitely not the wall,” you giggled.

“He’s kind of cute though. Dark blue paint, random fliers.”

You laughed at her as she began cooing at the wall, telling how dashing it looked in dark blue. Dahyun was always trying to make you feel better about the situation. She was the last person to come by for the night, and you begrudgingly headed back to your dorm to go to bed an hour after Dahyun left.

Saturday afternoon you went to check your mail after waking up. The winter coat you ordered arrived on Wednesday, and you desperately needed it now that temperatures were starting to drop. To your surprise, the common room was nearly full, and the commotion turned into silence as you came into view.

“Hey,” you cautiously said. “Did something happen?”

“You got a letter,” was the simple answer.

Like people passing each other buckets of water to put out a fire, the girls passed down the letter to you. You didn’t miss the sly looks that were exchanged. Once the thick envelope was in your hand, a sense of deja vu washed over you. When you glanced down, your name was written in rose gold, in the same loopy calligraphy from the Fall Festival. Your heart fluttered, and you knew why, but the lump of anxiety in your stomach you didn’t understand. Maybe it was because you wanted privacy for such a momentous moment. Maybe it was because you had fifteen pairs of eyes on you.

“What does it say?” Jeongyeon asked, graciously not saying what everyone wanted to know — “Who is it from?”

You might as well get it over with, you reasoned, since everyone would badger you with questions anyway. You lifted the flap, breaking the red wax. You noted that the family coat of arms featured two floppy-eared dogs and branches with rounded leaves. The last letter didn’t have a seal, you remembered. The same cream-colored stationery as before greeted your eyes, and you opened the card with gentle fingers, taking care not to crease it.

Meeting you would be grand. I’ll be waiting with a red rose in hand.

A pressed rose petal decorated the bottom half of the note, and you absentmindedly touched it while trying to slow your racing heart. Your eyes were glued to the message, rereading it over and over again. This was it, your chance to finally meet him. A hint of a smile started to show on your face, and Mina, observant as always, pointed it out.

“Is it something good?” she said, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, hiding your visibly flustered face with the envelope. Cheers erupted throughout the room, Sana being the loudest one of them.

“So, who is it?” Nayeon asked. “Is it BamBam? He’s been acting suspicious lately.”

“Jeongin? He always asks you for help,” Chaeyoung suggested.

You reread the card, searching for a signature, an inside joke, something to indicate the sender. Unfortunately, all you had was the seal, but you recognized none of the elements that would help you narrow down your search.

You showed everyone the broken wax. “Anyone know whose family seal this is?” You handed the envelope to the closest girl, who glanced at it and passed it to the next person.

When it reached Sana, she brought it centimeters away from her eyes, scrutinizing every little detail she could pick out. “It looks familiar, but I don’t know,” she finally said out loud. “I’ll ask around. Okay if I take a picture, Y/N?”

“Please.” You wanted to know who this mystery boy was more than anyone.

The envelope came back to you, and you carefully tucked the card inside. The crowd started to thin out as girls started to head back to their rooms or out of the dorms. So did you.

Once inside your room, the package that held your much needed winter coat was left discarded at the foot of your bed. With shaky hands, you reopened both the cards you had received from your secret admirer. You traced the words with a trembling finger, feeling the imprints made by the fountain pen, marvelling at how elegant his handwriting was. It was written by someone with a firm hand and a delicate touch, you imagined. Someone who was deliberate and kind and…

You shook your head. There was no sense in projecting your hopes of him on him, especially since you didn’t even know who he was.

Yet with only a slight feeling of embarrassment and some guilt, you lifted the stationery to your nose in a poor attempt to sniff out his cologne. All you smelled was expensive paper, and your whole body heated up when you realized how shameless you were a mere two seconds ago. Thank goodness Sana was busy and had no chance of bursting in.

You hid both letters inside your desk and opened your package, pretending that the past five minutes didn’t happen. The whole day was like that, pretending that you were cool, calm, collected when you really had the energy equivalent of five cups of black coffee coursing through your veins.

Sana came back with no new answers. At night, you drifted in and out of sleep, wondering who he was and how he would reveal himself to you.

As decided, you and Sana met up with Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 the following day. You yawned, regretting not taking any melatonin before you went to bed; you were tired from hours of unrestful sleep. Luckily, Nayeon, the driver, was in a much better state than you.

“I asked BamBam yesterday,” she said as she pulled out of the parking lot, “and he says it’s not him. I asked about his seal, and his is completely different.”

“He could be lying. What if he used someone else’s seal to trick Y/N?” Sana gasped.

“But why would he even do that? There wasn’t any seal on the first letter I got,” you replied. “It’s probably just a hint.”

“Ah! So he wants you to know who he is but is too shy to say it outright!” Sana declared. “But someone has to know. Is it too much if I post an ad in JYPaper?”

“Yes.” The school newspaper had many readers, and you didn’t want to be known as The Girl with the Secret Admirer again. “I don’t think they even allow things like that. We have at least three weeks to figure out who he is anyway.”

“Killjoy,” Sana pouted.

Soon, the three of you arrived in front of the boutique. As expected, the promise to buy only accessories for the masquerade was broken when Nayeon spotted an emerald green dress with lace details.

“Maybe I’ll wear this instead,” she wondered out loud. Before any of you could stop her, she grabbed it off the rack and brought it to the register, not even bothering to check the size.

You and Sana shared looks before heading over to the display of shoes. A cursory glance told you that none of them would match your dress the way you wanted. Despite that, you tried on a silver heel bedazzled with possibly real diamonds as Sana selected a black velvet pump. Nayeon returned with a brand new bag with the boutique’s name emblazoned on the front.

It was a similar experience at the other stores the three of you later visited. At least one of you would buy an unneeded item, while the main purpose of buying shoes for the masquerade was forgotten. The topic of your secret admirer, however, was not as lucky. At the end of the day, you had learned far too much about the Hwang family’s supposed seal, and Nayeon’s trunk was filled with shopping bags of various sizes and multicolored tissue paper. No progress was made.

“Y/N,” Sana started, her voice in an uncharacteristic lilt that typically meant she was going to ask for a favor, “can you take my bags too? Chan says he’s free now, and I want to ask him about the seal.”

“Can’t you just do it over text? I bet Chan wouldn’t mind,” you said. You threaded the handles of as many bags as you could through your arms. “You bought so many things.”

“If I do it in person, I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“He’s on the student council,” Nayeon pointed out. “We voted for him because he’s honest and trustworthy.”

“Please? He’s my friend, and I haven’t talked to him in ages,” she tried. For some strange reason, you couldn’t help but feel that it was a flimsy excuse for her not to take her fifteen bags back to the dorms.

“I’m your friend too,” you huffed. Despite your show of annoyance, you grabbed one of her bags as well. The last time she and Chan spoke face-to-face was two weeks ago, which was ‘ages’ since they usually had dinner together at least twice a week. “Fine. But he better know something useful.”

Sana lit up and eagerly waved goodbye. You called after her, “You’re treating me to dinner tomorrow!”

Nayeon added, “Me too!” as she picked up a black bag with gold ribbons for handles.

After three trips back and forth, Nayeon’s car was finally empty. Sana still had not returned, so the two of you went to the dining hall for a late night snack. Nayeon checked the “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list and read off the names still not crossed off.

(Apparently, Jeongyeon had created a spreadsheet and shared it with all the girls, so the list could be updated in real time. You were both surprised and not surprised at this news.)

“What about Felix?” she suggested. She flashed her phone screen at you, and Lee Felix had no strikethrough. “He’s a new transfer, so maybe that’s why no one recognizes the seal. Or maybe he doesn’t have a seal.”

You shrugged, more focused on the cheese platter on a nearby table. “Maybe,” you said, loading your plate with delicious morsels.

Nayeon mumbled something about your disinterest when food was in front of you, but she did the same. Chaeyoung, seated in a booth near a window with her own plate of cheese and crackers, waved you over.

“Rumor has it that your secret admirer is Lee Felix,” she said, forgoing a greeting.

Right beside you, Nayeon hissed, “See! I was right!”

“Someone saw him with some red roses last week, and your card did have a rose petal on it,” she continued. She nibbled on a small block of cheese as she looked for your reaction.

You chewed on your bottom lip. Was it really him? Was Lee Felix your secret admirer? You only knew him by a string of associations — Chan’s friend. Sana’s friend’s friend. He was pretty cute, you admitted.

“Maybe,” you replied, already thinking about his sharp jawline and the dusting of freckles across cheeks. “But only three more weeks until I find out.”

Sana had been acting strangely recently. She had started asking lots of specific questions about things you liked in guys. While you would have normally brushed this aside as Sana being Sana, she would follow up with questions like, “What do you think of this quality in a boyfriend?” Your answers were noncommittal, but she always smiled far too innocently and typed it on her phone. When your star-embroidered dress and its matching mask for the ball had arrived, a hint of a grin had appeared on her face. Then she had squealed, “He’ll love it!” and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, like she had just told a huge secret. During the latest shopping trip with her and Nayeon — where you finally found a pair of heels you liked — Sana had smirked when the three of you unexpectedly ran into Chan and Felix, also shopping for the ball.

“Is it Lee Felix?” you asked moments after the boys were out of earshot.

She pretended not to hear you. “Hey, Nayeon, what do you think of that dress over there?”

You frowned, debating whether this meant it was Felix was not Felix. But it was clear that she knew something.

Weeks passed, and there was no new information about who your admirer could be. Much to your disappointment, Sana kept her lips sealed and tactfully changed topics whenever the masquerade was brought up.

Now that everyone was getting ready for the masquerade, she was dancing about you, deciding where to best place the decorative pins in your hair. You were fine with the situation earlier since you were waiting for Momo to finish Dahyun’s makeup, but Dahyun had been long gone.

“Here! No, here!” Sana selected a new location, deemed it not perfect, and took out the pin.

Momo, who had been patiently waiting to start on your makeup for a solid five minutes, gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sana, are you close to done yet?” she asked. “We’re going to be even later than we are now.”

“But she has to look perfect! She’s about to meet her secret admirer!”

The few girls present in the common room — where Momo had set up for the night — murmured in agreement.

Sighing, you snatched the handful of pins away from her and stuck them artfully into your curls. Or as artfully as you could in five seconds. It didn’t matter; they were shaped like stars, so they would look nice anyway. “There. Hair, check.”

After makeup was complete, Nayeon carefully tied your masquerade mask back, and Tzuyu held up a mirror for you. With Momo’s handiwork and half of your face covered, you barely recognized yourself. Your heart raced at the discovery; would he recognize you then? The letters he sent rested on your lap, and you absentmindedly touched the broken wax seal.

“All ready to go!” Sana cheerfully said. She pulled you up from your chair and linked arms with you. “Let’s find out who he is.”

Would it be Lee Felix, the top candidate among the girls, or someone who had gone by unnoticed? You gripped your skirts tighter in anticipation, and Sana slapped your wrist away in fear that you would wrinkle the fabric.

Downstairs, the ballroom was packed. Nayeon opened the double doors with bravado, and dozens of eyes looked in your direction. You thought everyone with their masks on looked like great horned owls staring you down, and you self-consciously adjusted yours, to Nayeon’s chagrin.

“What do I do?” you whispered to yourself. All the onlookers had returned to their own business, and you followed your friends through the crowd. “How do I even find him in all this?”

Nayeon had great hearing. “Red rose, remember?” she said. The baroque music nearly drowned out her answer. “He’s waiting with a red rose.”

“We’ll meet you by the punch table!” Sana shouted, already disappearing into the throngs of people. She grabbed Nayeon by the elbow, and you were left alone.

Stricken by the fact that you had no idea what to do and that your friends had basically ditched you, you stood in place. The letters were hidden in the folds of your skirt, and you repeatedly tapped on the sharp corner of the envelope to calm your anxiousness. You had imagined a Cinderella-like reveal, where the crowd would part and your prince would be waiting on the other end of the ballroom. Then he would reveal himself, and the two of you would dance the night away. Though in hindsight, the current situation was much more likely to happen.

You scanned the room, looking for any sign of red. Ties, dresses, masks, but not a single flower. Why was red such a popular color for masquerades?

“Y/N?” you heard to your left.

Eyes wide, you turned in that direction, only to see a boy with a rose in hand talking to a girl with a midnight blue feathered mask. Dahyun, you realized. Dahyun laughed and shook her head before pointing in your direction. Her and her eagle eyes, you gratefully thought.

The next part felt like a dream. Like a princess from a story, you picked up your skirts and walked up to him. It was him who was frozen in place now as you neared him. The background blurred as you focused solely on him, surreptitiously studying the exposed part of his face. His black mask blocked you from seeing his eyes, but the embarrassed smile was familiar.

“Hi,” he breathed, holding out the rose to you.

Heart beating, you took it and replied, “Hi.” After a beat, you blurted out, “Who are you?”

The smile turned into a grin, and you felt your cheeks growing hotter as you realized that his grin was just for you. Oh, he was cute. Or the lower half of his face was at least. “Don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You checked the broken seal on the second letter. Was there a secret message on there that you missed or something? It was still the floppy-eared dogs and what you learned from Jihyo’s research was eucalyptus branches.

“Wow, Sana actually didn’t tell you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought she would have.”

“Sana? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. She’s one of my closest friends too. We’ve known each other for years.”

Then, it all dawned upon you. Sana, who thought the seal looked familiar, who wanted to speak to an old friend in person, who looked like she had been hiding a secret from you during the past three weeks. Sana, who had fussed over your appearance, who left you in the center of the ballroom for no real reason.

“Chan?” you whispered.

“Yeah. Are you disappointed?”

“No! I’m just surprised! I didn’t think that— Everyone thought it would be Felix, so I… kind of believed it…”

“If you want to dance with Felix, then I can get him for you,” he quietly offered, his face falling.

You caught his sleeve before he could turn away, and you didn’t miss his shocked expression when you quickly said, “No! I want to dance with you. Really.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please stay.”

You loosened your own mask and let it hang around your neck. Suddenly you felt shy now that all of your face was showing. You vaguely knew Chan from years of being friends with Sana, but this was a completely new experience and feeling.

“You look really beautiful,” he softly said. “I like the stars on your dress and in your hair.”

“You look handsome too,” you shyly replied. Sensing a possible awkward lull in the conversation, you asked, “So… why did you think Dahyun was me?”

He groaned and looked away. The tips of his ears matched the flower you were holding. “Sana told me your dress was dark blue, and Dahyun’s was blue as well.”

You smiled, remembering Dahyun loudly announcing that the common room wall was her date and that she would be matching with it for the ball.

“Did she tell you that I would be waiting here, too? She and Nayeon ditched me here.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. With a sudden burst of confidence, he stepped forward, his hands hovering around your waist. “She told me a lot of things, but especially about you.”

“Like what?” You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, and he jumped but pulled you closer nonetheless. The two of you began to sway to the music. “That I wake up in the afternoon on the weekends and she hates it because she has to tiptoe around?”

He laughed, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Yes, but other things as well. That you like stars and that you stayed up late to help her study for an exam even though you pulled an all nighter the night before.”

“Oh?” You remembered it, but you didn’t think she told anyone.

“Yeah. She made you sound unreal. I checked out the Astronomy Club booth in Fall Fest to meet you myself, but I got shy. You looked really pretty that day,” he added, making you blush. “And then I heard you and Seungmin talking about how many pies you guys had left, so I decided to help out.”

“By buying all of them.”

“Yeah. Kind of a stupid idea, now that I think about.”

“You definitely got my attention.” You rested your head on his shoulders and felt him sharply inhale. He relaxed soon after, and you continued with, “I couldn’t stop thinking about your card for weeks.”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he quietly replied, earning yet another blush from you.

He leaned closer, and you felt a breath get hitched in your throat until he whispered, “Not to alarm you or anything, but everyone’s watching us.”

A quick peek was all you needed to confirm his words. Dahyun was still lingering around, and Sana miraculously showed up, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Seungmin looked like he was giving Chan overly enthusiastic thumbs-ups.

“Do you wanna still wanna dance?” he mumbled. The music was loud enough that no one would be able to hear, but it was something intimate in a scene where the two of you were being gawked.

“Come with me,” you said.

“To wh— Oh!”

You slithered out of his hold and led him by the wrist through the crowd of onlookers to a more secluded spot near one of the giant windows in the hallway. Groups of people parted for you like the fairy tale scene you had imagined earlier. With your skirts flowing back and a handsome boy behind you, it certainly felt like a fairy tale. Once the two of you were alone, you leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“So, who exactly is the guy beneath the mask?” you ask, pointing at him with the rose. “I wanna know more about him since he already knows so much about me.”

He pushed his mask up to his neatly combed hair and smiled at you, full dimples on display, galaxies in his eyes. “Just someone who thinks you’re a cutie pie.”

~ ad.gray

[tenderlyrenjun]

[9:15 am]

(feat. Mark)

You barge into Renjun’s private study, pushing the classificatory Azure Dragon emblem on the push plate so violently that the doors clammor deafeningly against the walls they hit. The force, even quicker, drives the doors to shut before the head guard, Mark, can follow you in, even with his vampiric speed. Surprisingly, the doors remain intact, likely due to the fiberglass material. But Mark still enters, half a second after you, bowing apologetically to Renjun who reads a sales and revenue report.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, waving a letter with Jaemin’s government seal stamped prominently contrasted against the black-inked characters and tinted white parchment.

Renjun gives you a momentary look until returning to his deep red wine and business report. And neither of you spare a glance at Mark, who immediately assesses the entire room, looking underneath the desk, leaning against the wall to scan the garden outside through the curtains, taking out his ear piece to listen for the slightest of movements, etc. etc. 

“I don’t know,” Renjun answers, eyes glossing over the drop in profit, trying to figure out where it comes from.

Every couple of decades, the two of you obtain successive internships at your various companies, under the guise of nepotism, usually to oversee any errors or the general income. And with Renjun having suggested attending college a few months back, this internship with your tech company seemed to just fit the whole college students persona, particularly your A accompanying that computer class Renjun asked you to take. Plus, he wanted to review why the stocks have been going down, especially since your companies are privately owned and you two, the owners, are well-hidden from the public. The only people, prior to your new reemergence into the 21st century, who saw you were other ancient vampires and the members of your coven - Kun, Aurora, Mark, Jiu, Woosung, in addition to the security detail turned and operated by Mark.

“It’s Jaemin’s signature,” you state obviously, crinkling the parchment louder in the air before pulling it in front of you again to reread the message.

“Mhmm,” Renjun hums, already having gathered that, simultaneous with Mark’s reaction: a whispered Oh.

Both you and Renjun turn to Mark, who finished surveying the area. Your vampire hearings amplified the exclamation, so you two raise matching eyebrows. 

“Sorry,” Mark excuses himself formally, then resumes the composure of a head guard again: shoulders squared, head up, position alert. He stares blankly at the wall but receives challenging stares ordering a real answer. “I just,” he concedes to his founders, “thought it was something more zealous, or, even, outrageous, like an ex-lover or something.”

You eyebrow raises further, and Renjun closes his file, setting his feet firmly on the ground. It is ... entertaining when vampires make passing comments about your intense relationship - even Jaemin mentioned that he had not seen either of you separated in all 700 years that you three have been friends. Scarcely anyone knows about Renjun’s earlier indiscretion, and you would like to keep it this way, especially if the future unfolds as Doyoung’s right hand predicts it to. The thought paints an intense stare on your face that almost scares Mark.

“We’re both two and a half millennia old,” Renjun reveals, something he rarely admits to people and something that Mark largely underestimated, given by the way his eyes widen and body stiffens. Renjun turns to you, smirking. “Do people always assume that we are first loves?” You glare at him, not wanting to answer, especially after the incident Mark unintentionally brought up. Renjun drops the corners of his lips, right, then reclines in his chaise longue, resuming his casual position crossing his ankle over his knee. “Not that it matters, of course, because you are my only love.”

“And you are my last,” you respond equally. 

“What did Jaemin sign?” Mark interjects, not wanting to be caught in yet another lover’s ... to be honest, he cannot describe the intensity; he just knows that he does not want to be in the middle of it again.

“A declaration of war,” you announce, tossing the opened envelope into Renjun’s lap. 

Renjun slowly sits up again, then closes his file and chugs the last of his blood, in case of a surprise attack. Younger vampires ... they tend to be more dramatic, and he would not hold it against them if they waited for this exact moment to make a move and jump all three of you at once. So, he needs the last of the blood to have more than enough strength to fight them off.

“Against who though?” Mark asks, making sure to emphasize his presence. Sometimes, you and Renjun slip into that fabled telepathy supposedly shared by Mates (it is fake; you two just know each other well), and as head guard, he needs the information to make a protection plan for the entire coven.

But to his surprise, you answer, “I don’t know,” and rub your forehead. You walk toward Renjun, rereading the message over his shoulder. “Some faction in North America, I assume, based on all the tensions both politically and economically - what with one Lee clans slaughtering an entire town to occupy it.” You sigh, then realize how callous the sentence sounded and look up at Mark, who shared that surname in his mortal life. “Sorry, Mark.”

“Not a problem,” he amends, “Likely no relation.” He triangulates in front of Renjun to watch your back in case a vampire appears from the large mirror at your blind spot. “Was it one of the newer factions?”

Still standing, you exhale loudly through your entire chest (to give yourself a pause to think, to remember), then step a bit further from Renjun, mimicking Mark’s protocol: creating a triangle position amongst the three of you. You would honestly love to sit with Renjun, like all those nights lounging on a couch, studying or watching TV, but the both of you need to be as alert as Mark always is, if not more; the responsibility of protecting your newly rebuilt coven weighing heavily. It took centuries after the last war just to be able to trust other vampires into your hours, and even more decades to do extremely thorough background checks on those who live with you now. At the beginning of the war, assassins infiltrated your manor at your weakest point and Renjun had to rescue you from Yeon’s kidnapping and extortion attempt (possibly even murder, if Renjun had been too late). That was when you lost Xiaojun, Mark’s predecessor who was sire bonded to you. Then, more spies, from all sides, from all covens, absolutely decimated your numbers until only you and Renjun remained. Renjun, too, barely managed during the war, to keep you safe. Luckily, his special compulsion ability was able to order vampires away, undermining their sire bonds to defy their traitorous leaders. He currently keeps this gift secret, only using it when necessary (or as a party trick with his closest friends), though it does still come out subconsciously, hence why his first impressions are always so great.

You sigh again. “Newer vampires don’t know just how many of us there are, or how long we have been around. Aurora is barely 35, and prior to joining us, she was not aware of Jaemin or the Laws. So, of course they have to be a new faction. An arrogant new faction, likely affiliated with one of the Italian clans who want ultimate power again and for the capital to return to Volterra [Italy] again.”

“Rumor has it that Jaemin’s Mate even returned to Korea after drifting through North America,” Renjun gossips. You are always surprised to hear about Jaemin’s Mate, because while he has not been off the compound in 90 years, his Mate is scarcely ever with him. It reminds you how horrible that century without Renjun was; you cannot fathom wanting to be separated for more than a few days. “Perhaps there is some benefit to his Mate having been gone; Jaemin might have more to say than what he send.”

“What did Jaemin want?” Mark asks, as the only person in the room who has not read the letter.

“For us to pledge allegiance,” Renjun answers before you do, also recalling that darkest time when you perfected your poison techniques on treasonists. He deadpans and crumples the letter into a ball, feeling your anger rise with Jaemin’s words. You give Renjun a look, Jaemin cannnot be serious, right? But Renjun shakes his head, unsure; Jaemin is a fan of loyalty, even more than you, so neither of you know what this invitation means - you will have to schedule another meeting with him.

“Does he not remember our commitment to neutrality?” you seethe, balling your hands into fists like the ball, shaking your head with Renjun but in disbelief. 

“Does he want to absorb us as well?” Mark asks more realitistcally than you. “Our vampires are highly trained and over half possess special abilities, so -”

“Jaemin is not Doyoung,” you seethe again, interrupting Mark before he can accuse Jaemin of one of the highest crimes (passed into law by Jaemin himself): stalking vampires into a coven. It rose into law after one New Year in the early 19th century when too many newly turned 20-year olds emerged as vampires. Covens grew; entire high school classrooms slaughtered; police stations were at an all time high for corruption as leaders bribed them to turn the other way. The law had been coming for a long time, especially since this is how Doyoung acquired all of his member. Doyoung only recruited leaders with special abilities; hence his left hand atrium, a vampire with subjective precognition born under a chancellor following the Dark Ages, and his right hand (Jeno) atrium, a prince, a former East Palace in the years preceding the Dark Ages, with the ability to recognize any relationship and induce one, though only if he is present. But that holiday was the final deciding factor.

“No,” Renjun agrees, his voice rising to command the room. “But do not forget, love. We wanted Doyoung to rule as well.” You share a lot of qualities with Doyoung, hence why you are old friends, but Jaemin is the current leader and a good one at that too.

“Not at the cost of war.”

“So what do we do?” Mark asks, looking between the two of you for a direction before he creates a plan. “How do we avoid the war?”

Renjun glances at the letter. Jaemin was very firm and strict. So he sighs, resigning in doubt.

“We don’t.”

[slut-for-mothman]

Hell is For Children

Requested: Yes|No

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

A/N: Special thanks to @oliverbrnch for editing this chapter and making it into what is is !!! I hope you all enjoy my first CM fanfiction !!!

Summary: After 13 years of trying to forget the man he was supposed to call his father, Spencer finds his phone riddled with messages from his father trying to catch up on "old times". He's met with criticism and shame when he reveals he has no want to talk to him. Everyone seems to think his father deserves a second chance. Everyone except for him. Aaron Hotchner. Logically it made no sense, Aaron had a kid of his own, would he not sympathize with his father for wanting to have a relationship with his son? Spencer finds comfort in the older man. Everytime his phone buzzes with a notification from William Reid, Aaron is always there to comfort him and distract him from the burning hole in his back pocket.

Chapter warnings: Angst, allusions to physical abuse. descriptions of violence and gore, swearing, and I think that's it.

Chapter One

December 16th, 5:15pm

"Hey son, I haven't seen or heard from you in a while. I hope you're doing okay."

Seeing that message was enough to twist the young doctors stomach in such intricate and painful knots he thought he might become violently ill.

"A while?" Spencer muttered to himself as he reread the message over and over. "it's been thirteen years, that's more than a while-"

A second message interrupted his train of thought.

December 16th, 5:27pm

"Why don't you come over sometime? My wife would love to see you, just something to think about..."

This message made something inside him break, the world shattering as his knees failed him. He swore he felt time stop as he reread those nauseating characters.

Wife? Since when was he remarried?

'Does she even know what he did to my mom, to me?' Spencer wondered, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone.

Does she even know she left a ten-year-old alone with his mentally-ill mother? Did she know what a selfish bastard he was?

Did they have kids?

Were they really that easily replaced?

Spencers mind was spinning, his apartment floor unsteady underfoot as his vision blurred. Tears stung his eyes, threatening to slip down his cheeks if he dared to blink.

His misery was interrupted as his phone buzzed once more in his palm.

Thankfully, it wasn't from the dreaded unsaved number, just Hotch.

December 16th, 7:14pm

"We have a case."

Spencer gathered his things, wiping the tears from his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. He'd never been more grateful to hear those four words in his entire life.

His ride on the metro felt infinitely slower than normal, much to the young doctors dismay. The extra free time gave his mind permission to run away from his as much as it pleased.

His phone vibrated again and again with more messages from the unsaved number, each one more hostile and manipulative than the next when Spencer glanced at the device.

December 16th, 7:23pm

"Will you at least give me an answer? I know I screwed up, but that was a long time ago! I have a right to get to know my son."

December 16th, 7:25pm

"Imagine how I feel, not knowing my son has 3 PhD's and having to find out from my ex-wifes nurse. You're not the only one suffering here kid, remember that."

Spencer snapped his battered phone shut in frustration.

How did he even manage to make himself out to be the victim in this?

He's the one who left me.

'I don't owe him shit, not after what he did to me', Spencer thought furiously to himself, his knuckles white where they gripped his messenger bag.

'Maybe I should give him some kind of answer, let him know where he can stick-'

By the time the sentence popped into his head, his chest aching, he had reached his stop. Although cases weren't particularly a positive thing, anything was better than thinking about the man who had abandoned him and, subsequently, essentially ruined his entire life.

As soon as he stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen, he could feel his co-workers' eyes pierce right through him. It was almost like they could sense something was off with him the moment he entered Quantico.

Of course, while they were profilers, it's not like they were mind-readers.

He fled to the break room and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. He wanted to focus on what was important, which was certainly not the unread messages from a fetid man on his cellphone.

While pouring practically the entire container of sugar into his travel mug, he felt someone's hand touch his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the unexpected touch, and he turned to see Morgan, his eyebrows scrunched together in a confused and worried look.

"Slow down, kid. Have some coffee with your sugar." He said, his voice half-joking as he, presumably, tried to ease the tension practically emitting off of Spencer.

His phone vibrated once more from somewhere in his pockets, and Spencer's face twisted in fervent discomfort.

"Earth to Pretty Boy. You good?"

Spencer realized he was getting absorbed into his thoughts again and tried to brush it off with a quick sip of the sickly-sweet caffeinated concoction in his hand and a quick nod.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." as if Spencer ever stopped thinking in the first place.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything, kid. But for right now, let's go find out about this case." Derek clapped Spencer on the shoulder again, which earned an instinctual flinch.

Instead of dwelling on that, Derek and Spencer strode towards the conference room, where everyone else had already begun piling in ad Garcia and Prentiss introduced them to their present case.

"Three men were found dead on the streets of a Nevada strip mall last night," Garcia began, pulling up the crime scene photos onto the screen.

Spencer flipped through the folder that was handed to him, scanning over the photos while distantly listening to the rather gruesome but ultimately unhelpful details Prentiss and Garcia were describing.

All three men had one of their fingers removed, yet their wedding bands were later found in their stab wounds upon closer investigation. They were all three found in close proximity to different hotels and known "lover's lanes".

The incessant vibrations and noise emitting from the dreaded device in his pocket was enough to make Spencer have a brain aneurysm.

He retrieved the phone from his pocket only to switch it off and shove it into the deep depths of his messenger bag. It wasn't necessary for a plane ride anyway.

His sudden movements earned him a few more concerned glances, but their attention was quickly diverted as Prentiss announced, "Wheels up in 30." effectively dismissing the team to get their things.

Spencer was restless the entire plane ride. It was only thirty minutes into the trip, with an hour and ten minutes left.

Normally, he'd be playing chess or even reading, but neither of those things seemed to tempt him, as all he could think of were the numerous messages probably flooding his discarded phone banished to the bottom of his messenger bag.

The last message he'd read replayed repeatedly in his mind like some awful alarm.

'Imagine how I feel...'

It made fiery anger swirl in his chest.

He could imagine how he felt. Because the pain William Reid inflicted before he finally left was enough to make Spencer understand what it was like to be sent to Hell and back, if such a place existed.

The memory of watching his own father leave his house at age 10 was enough to make him feel nauseous. His father leaving was the final stake through the young man's heart.

The physical pain, he could probably forgive him for. He would never forget, but maybe he could understand.

But leaving your young on to care for his mentally-ill mother? After all the pain he put him through, that kick while Spencer was already down was a new low.

For all Spencer cared, the man could rot. It was almost funny, thirteen years of healing down the drain with just a few text messages.

Once again, Spencer was ripped from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, It was Hotch, with a guarded but concerned look on his face.

"You've been way too quiet; is everything alright?"

'No', Spencer thought to himself. But he couldn't admit he wasn't okay, especially not before a case. More important things needed to be tended for than his own "daddy issues".

"I'll be okay," Spencer settled for. "Just some weird stuff has been happening lately. It's nothing I can't take care of, though."

It didn't dissuade Hotch's concerned look. If anything, it intensified the worry Spencer found there.

"Is it your mother? Is she alright?" He asked, leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows.

"She's okay! I actually just called her the other night," Spencer assured him. He bit his lip and gripped his messenger bag. "It's actually, uh, my dad. He's been messaging me, and I haven't spoken to him in thirteen years."

"Are you okay? Have you messaged him back any?" Hotch asked, releasing the worried lines on his forehead.

"I haven't, yet. I figured I'd wait until the case was over. That way, there's nothing in the way." Spencer explained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his eyes darted around the jet cabin.

Hotch must have picked up the signal to wrap up the conversation, because he gently reminded the young man that he could talk to him whenever he needs to, or just whenever he wants to.

Spencer smiled and inclined his head slightly. "Thanks, Hotch."

"It's not a problem, Reid. Now, let's get back to work."

Spencer flicked through the gruesome photos once more, the swirling anger in his chest dwindling for the first time since his phone at first pinged with that dreaded message.

For once, Spencer was able to completely forget about the slightly outdated phone burning a hole in the bottom of his messenger bag.