#if you saw my last post one of the photos might be familiar~

[rasberry-rabbit]

I wish that I could tell you the truth

[cimmanonrowl]

Hi, I saw that you’re taking dbf requests for Hotch! Could I request a fic with dbf!Hotch where he finally makes a move on reader during a party being hosted by her dad? Also, I love your fics sm!!

Dress

It was your father’s appointment party as Chief Justice when lawyers and businessmen overtly offer their sons as your marriage prospects. All while Aaron Hotchner listened quietly beside you, you can tell that he’s not too happy about it.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Theme: spicy hotshot

Contents: age gap, making out, angry confession.

The decorous garden of your home residence was filled with a crowd of guests long before the party officially started. Prominent people of different names and titles— some of your father’s business partners and colleagues in the Supreme Court, and some family friends you barely recognize— draped in their finest garments and overtly high status in society.

Pleasantries and polite conversations were exchanged; and as your father greeted each one of his dear friends, you had no other choice but to stay beside him all the time and be on your best behavior.

“You have a very nice house here, Chief Justice,” Emilia Kane— one of your father’s business partners as you recalled— said with a dainty smile.

You mirrored her small nod when she glanced at you, smiling politely at the woman and the other two beside her. “Good evening, Ma’am.”

“Good evening, dear. You look absolutely gorgeous…” She took a sip of her champagne and raked your outfit subtly, a kind smile on her face. “What year are you in University now?”

“She just graduated a month ago, Emilia. She’s entering Harvard Law this fall, haven’t I told you yet?” Your father intercepted proudly, making you purse your lips as you initially intended to answer the question.

The woman beamed in amazement as she glanced at you. “Oh my, congratulations! I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

“She graduated top of her class.”

You sighed lightly, glancing at your father. “Dad…”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the photos, Emilia. I posted everything on my social accounts...” Father dear went on, still smiling widely.

“Dad, please.”

“Oh, did you?” The woman said in awe, alternating her amused gaze between you and your father. “And did he get you a new car, dear? An apartment? What did he get you for your graduation?”

“I wanted to give her all thos—”

“No, dad…” You shook your head, chuckling.

“Well, I rented an entire villa in Mykonos for her and her friends. She just got back from Greece yesterday.”

“Dad!” Heat crept in your cheeks as he continued. This conversation is making you sound like a hopeless case of a spoiled brat when it wasn’t entirely true. You might appear spoiled for other people at times but not on a hopeless— certainly not on a spoiled brat level.

“Oh, dear, you’re fine…” The other woman chuckled sympathetically. “I bought my son a new Porsche just because he didn’t get himself kicked out of University. I’m sure your father’s just proud.”

You shyly darted your gaze at your dad as you felt his palm on your linked arms. “Why won’t I be? She’s my only daughter...”

The light conversation continued and was only interrupted when a couple of new guests approached your father. Several familiar faces of lawyers and judges; some from your father’s law firm and some from the Supreme Court. Over the past years, you got to know most of them, making you fix your posture and remind yourself to smile more pleasantly.

So you stood there prettily in silence, smiling, as you accepted their handshakes.

“You look beautiful, hija…”

You beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, attorney. Good evening.”

“Have you seen Marcus around? He told me he’d look for you.”

“Marcus?” You perked your eyebrows in curiosity. “Is he home already?”

The innocent question made your father chuckle a bit. “Yes, sweetie. I told you I played golf with them last week, remember?”

A bashful smile tugged at your lips as you looked at Attorney Jensen. They’re one of your closest family friends. His son, Marcus, is one of the kids you grew up hanging around with at law firm parties and at weekend golf clubs. He’s a nice kid... but everything turned weird when everyone started pairing you both as teenagers.

Your father must’ve told you about Marcus’ arrival but you’re sure you didn’t care enough the first time that you missed the entire story when he called.

“Well, I’m sure he’s just around...” You said with a sweet smile.

Minutes dragged by and their conversations continued. You stood beside your father in silence, occasionally engaging in the small talk. Some of the men asked about your education, your plan after law school, and your love life— all of which you answered as briefly and politely as possible.

“Sir, it’s time to prepare for your opening speech—” You turned in the organizer’s direction when you heard her voice.

You stared at your father expectantly. Well, it’s not like he would need your help in preparing for his speech. He’s a Chief Justice for heaven’s sake, surely he can do that alone. You just hope he’s not thinking of leaving you alone with these men.

“Thank you, Laura…” Your father turned to glance down at you. “Honey, would you mind staying here for a whi— never mind— Aaron!”

Your heart almost burst into ashes with the sudden cry of your father. You quickly followed his line of sight— immediately being greeted by the sight of your father’s dear best friend since University days.

Aaron Hotchner.

He’s in a well-polished suit. His dark hair was clean cut and even from afar, you can see the light stubble on his jaw. And Jesus Christ, how can someone look that good?

“Chief Justice,” He greeted your father with an equally wide yet endearing smile, deftly shaking hands while your father chuckled heartily.

Aaron turned to you with a timid smile, opening his arms as a little invitation. You noticed the hint of hesitation on his face with that. Yet still, you accepted the hug before placing a quick and delicate kiss on his cheek, your hands shaking as you perched both your palms on his arm.

“I’ll excuse myself for a while. Will you look after her, Aaron?” You heard your father say as you scrambled to step away from Aaron’s embrace.

He wetted his lower lip before nodding, not even daring to look at you. “Yeah, sure.”

Embarrassment licked your skin as you watched your unsuspecting father walk away. The moment he was completely out of sight, you felt Aaron’s gentle hand snaking at the low of your back, securing you from the waist— as if preventing you from running away from him.

Effortlessly, he engaged in conversations as he settled beside you. And just like earlier, you fell silent as everyone else was busy in their own conversations.

“How about you, are you planning to get married soon after graduating from Harvard Law?”

You smiled lightly as a couple of guests whirled their attention back to you. “I’m afraid I’ll have to look for a boyfriend first, attorney.”

Aaron’s thumb started rubbing soft strokes at your waist. He seemed to be doing that unconsciously because when you glanced at him, he was talking to another group of guests standing at his side.

“So you’re currently looking for a boyfriend?”

“Not really, no...” You chuckled awkwardly. “But if I meet a good one, why not?”

The older man took a huge swig of his brandy. “I have a son. He’s in DC. Surgeon.”

You nodded with an unsure smile. What do you even do with that kind of information?

“That’s impressive...” You said instead.

“He’s also looking for a girlfriend. I can hook you up if you like. I mean, he also graduated from Harvard—”

“That’s kind of you, attorney, but as I said I’m not really looking…”

“My son’s an architect. I believe your father mentioned you’re into art, is that correct?” Another man interrupted, taking an interest in the conversation.

“Yes, attorney…” You gave him a small smile.

Although this night wasn’t meant for you in any way, you’re aware that you are your father’s reflection to these people. You know how crucial it is that you remain polite as much as possible.

“Just a few dates, what do you say?” He offered with a humorous smile. “Come on, maybe we can merge our firms one day. You know, I don’t have any successor of my own. My son’s an architect.”

“It’s not her fault your son chose architecture,” Attorney Jensen cut off before you can reply for yourself. “Besides, my son has been courting her since they were young. He went home this year just to ask her out officially.”

Your breath hitched as you felt Aaron’s grip on your waist tighten. You glanced up at him in confusion, only to see that his usually kind eyes turned piercing, his eyebrows pulled into a tight frown. He seemed mad— furious. He looked furious at the incredulity he was hearing.

You glanced away, not sure what to make of that.

“I believe we need to go to our tables now...” Aaron said formally, his voice deep and serious. His eyes were pointed at his old colleagues and other businessmen.

You smiled at the waiting guests. “I believe I still want to hear what they’re saying...”

Aaron turned to you in disbelief, his scowl deepened.

“About?”

“About their sons.”

You watched Aaron with an innocent look, tilting your head a little, calming the rapid beating of your heart as you saw him let out a sigh of frustration.

Attorney Jensen chuckled at the sight. “Oh, come on now, Aaron. She’s a grown woman, plus it’s just a few dates. It won’t hurt surely.”

“Surely...” You nodded along, glancing at the other men. “It won’t hurt to try.”

You bit your lower lip as Aaron leaned into your ear. His hot breath fanned over your skin, his deep voice sending chills to trickle down your spine.

“Continue this conversation, young lady, and let’s see what will happen.”

The horrified look on your face drew laughter from the guests. They must’ve thought Aaron was threatening to tell this to your father. So you turned away, your smile dropping as you looked around apologetically.

Your father’s voice from the make-shift stage snatched everyone’s attention from you and the conversation. Some marshalls started ushering people to their seats to prepare for the opening speech of the Chief Justice. With small nods and smiles, they all marched toward their respective tables and left you on the spot with Aaron.

“Come with me.”

You staggered sidewards, looking around in slight panic. “The party’s starting.”

“We have to talk.”

“Aaron,” You sighed, eyeing the stage. “My father’s giving his speech…”

That only made him frown deeper. “You proofread that speech for him, you won’t miss anything.”

“So what if I did? I still want to listen.”

He wandered his gaze around the venue before guiding you away from the crowd. It was seldom that Aaron visited your home residence. When he and your father hang out, they usually visit bars, golf clubs, or shooting ranges. But he does know the basic layout of your house. And you know that he’s leading you inside your home this time.

Deep down, you feel like you know exactly where he wants to talk.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” He blurted out angrily the moment you stepped inside your room.

You whirled around to face him, crossing your arms across your chest as you heaved a tired sigh.

“What, Aaron?”

He took a step forward. “Is that your way of getting back at me?”

You shrugged, still confused about the point he was making. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You perfectly know what I’m talking about.”

A beat of silence.

Then realization dawned, making you smile in pure resignation.

Two months ago, you made up your mind and finally confessed to Aaron Hotchner. You’re already graduating from University. You will enter a Law School soon. What’s there to lose? Aaron had been showing the subtlest of signs that he likes you back: the way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel cared for and safe, the way— you mistook everything for a reciprocated love.

He cared for you, yes.

Simply because you are your father’s extension.

So what’s this? Why bother now?

“It was clear you didn’t like me,” You whispered quietly. “Which is fine, Aaron, really. I understand— I mean, I was hurt obviously. But… but I understand. I’ll just have to move on, right?”

“You’ve no idea what you’re saying…” He mumbled hoarsely, still piercing you with his darkened gaze. With quick steps, he bridged the gap between you and cupped your cheeks on both his hands.

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Aaron…”

“How can I let you move on when that thought alone is killing me?”

Your breath hitched at his words. “W-what?”

“Fuck this,” He spat angrily before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “You’re driving me mad, sweetheart.”

The sound of muffled laughter, distant conversations, and clinking glasses filtered in through the partially open window. You can barely hear a word of what your father was saying in his speech. All you are aware of is how Aaron desperately chased your lips with hungry and deep kisses, and how the weight of his body was forcing you to blindly take several steps back.

You melted into his sinful lips, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling him closer. You felt his hands move down to your waist, gripping tightly the thin fabric of your satin dress. The sound of ragged breathing mingled in the air as he walked you backward, backward until your back finally hit the wall.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and leaving a wet trail of heat in your wake.

You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. “Aaron…”

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. His big, calloused hands roamed over your body, exploring, familiarizing you.

“Aaron, what are you—” You rasped weakly as he broke another kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t do that again…” He whispered back, breathing heavily as he closed his eyes. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll think of something, I’ll do something just don’t—”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

“You’ve no idea what you were saying. Your confession— how can you think that I don’t like you?”

“Well…” You blushed, still catching your breath. “You didn’t say anything after, then you sent me home. You didn’t attend my graduation. You didn’t reply to my texts or even congratulate me.”

“You told me I don’t have to say anything…”

“Well, technically, if you didn’t say anything then you don’t like me.”

“You really have no idea what you’re saying, darling.”

You shivered at his whispered words, feeling a surge of boldness. Your hands found the button of his shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin. You clumsily tugged on his tie and ripped his clothes off of him, tossing them aside.

Aaron Hotchner could only watch in anticipation as you let the strap of your dress fall on the soft curve of your shoulders... until all your clothes quickly became a forgotten pile on the floor, your moans intertwining like ropes in the party-stained air.

As always, any thoughts and reactions are highly appreciated. Plus, to anon who requested this, YOU ARE AN ANGEL. I loved crafting this with this plot, and hopefully, you liked it as much as I do! See you all on the next ones, we have a few other good requests!

[outsideratheart]

Time Has No Concept (Ingrid Engen x reader)

It may not have officially been winter but that didn’t stop the -5 degrees feel any warmer. You always said you liked the cold weather or at least you weren’t bothered by it. Today was a true test of that. 

Walking out for the pitch inspection you only have one thing on your mind or more specifically one person. 

“It hasn’t even been a week” Keira tries to tease you but fails because you don’t bite. 

“I don’t care. I spend every day with her in Barcelona so when we’re apart a day is like a week.” 

It was true. It didn’t take much for you to miss Ingrid. You moved to Barcelona after the euros and quickly became friends with Ingrid. It stayed like that way until you won the Champions league. It was a night to be remember for more reason than one. 

Lucy and Keira agreed to go with you to Ingrid as she was with Caro and Ada. 

“Tell me why you, a Norwegian native, are wearing more layers than me?” 

“Because I’m not a human heater” Ingrid opens your arms and makes herself comfy. 

“Hello my love” you look down at her, fully disregarding the company around you. 

“Are you nervous?” Ingrid asks as she sees a crack in your confident persona. 

On game days you were serious, locked in and there was little anybody could do to steer you from this mindset. Ingrid however had the unexplainable ability to see through it and as she stands on the pitch in your arms she sees her girlfriend, not the England captain.

“About the game, of course not” you wink playfully “about what comes after, a little bit. I just want to make a good impression”

“Pull back your shots and maybe you will”

Ingrid knew you would never do as she asked so isn’t surprised when she gets a scoff as her reply. The two of you stay together in each others arms for a few more minutes as you involve yourselves in the conversation between Lucy and Ada. 

It was very well known that you hated wearing base layers but it was advised to put one on gor the game given that it might snow was forecast. That didn’t stop you from removing the thermal layer within the first ten minutes when you saw their goalkeeper go down. At half time most of them put a second base layer on and an extra pair of gloves whereas you opted for a cup of tea instead.

The post match team huddle was one of the quickest in team history and the lap around the pitch that followed matched it. Only one or two England players remained on the pitch to thank the fans, you were one of them. Once the last photo was taken your attention shifted to a different kind of fan.

There she stood talking animatedly with two people who you recognised from the time Ingrid FaceTimed home whilst staying at your apartment.

“Y/N!” The younger boy, Ingrid’s nephew you think, shouts.

“Look at you” Ingrid cannot believe you are standing next to her in the now -8 degrees, maybe even colder, in only shorts and a shirt. No base layers, no gloves, no coat “You’re going to get a cold”

“You forget that I don’t get sick, it’s my superpower. Besides, I’ll have you to keep me warm” you are millimetres away from kissing her when you are interrupted.

“Y/N, please can I have your shirt?” 

“No”

“Yes”

Much to Ingrid’s dismay you give her nephew your shirt. He takes his coat off and quickly puts your shirt on over Ingrid’s. The smile on his face rivals the Cheshire cat’s and you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear that the look on his face makes it worth it. 

Ingrid holds her jacket open and pulls you close as you chat away to her brother about the game, happy with the fact that the two of you get along well and that you will have a familiar face when you meet everybody else a little bit later. It is only when she feels you shivering against her does she politely end the conversation so that you can go inside the stadium.

“Shower, please. No ice baths. We can go on a recovery walk tomorrow” your girlfriend knew your post match routine well at this point but prayed that tonight you would stray without any arguments. 

“Yes ma’am” you salute her before doing as your told. 

Almost two hours later you were pulling up to Ingrid’s parents house. Ingrid seemed confident that her family would like you. The way she grabbed your hand and led you into her childhood home did ease the nerves building inside you. 

Luckily for you, Ingrid’s nephew is the first to see you and pulls you over to show you his Legos. You can’t believe that you are using a child as a shield against her family. 

The protection doesn’t last long because your girlfriend soon calls you over to her parents. You had practiced this speech plenty of times in the mirror. 

Mr and Mrs Engen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. 

Yet when you get within a meters distance of them you freeze. These are two of the most important people in your girlfriend’s life and making a good impression on them is a must. 

They stare at you for what feels like an eternity and you can also feel Ingrid’s eyes on you too. Another thing you notice in the corner of your eye is the smirk that is tugging at her lips. 

“You were right. In person she isn’t anything like she is on the pitch” her father says. 

Still you are frozen. Do you slip the player switch on and play the confidence card? No, that might be too much and they’d know it’s an act. 

“Hyggelig å møte deg” you hold your hand out for both her father and her mother. 

Their eyes widen and you don’t know if it’s in shock or horror. Your girlfriend’s silence didn’t help either. 

“I said nice to meet you, right?” 

Ingrid leans in and kisses your check. 

“Elskling, it was perfect” Ingrid compliments you. 

“She is right. The pronunciation was very good” 

“Ingrid didn’t say you knew Norwegian” her father adds. 

“Our team mate Caroline has been teaching me after training” 

Ingrid knew you had been having lessons with Caro, you had told her that much. She just assumed it was Spanish because of how quickly you picked up the native language of your new club. Never in a million years did she think you’d be learning her language. 

The four of you talk for a little while. You get to know Ingrid’s parents and they ask all sorts of questions. They are mainly football and life in Barcelona related. You don’t get the hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you speech but you suspect they are waiting until you’re alone for that. 

After the introductions you retake your place on the floor with Ingrid’s nephew. His company you found a lot less intimidating. Her parent’s are sat on the sofa behind you watching the tv with some of Ingrid’s other relatives but you aren’t bothered by their presence. 

“Y/N” Ingrid shouts from the kitchen where she is helping her brother with the food. 

“Yes, my love” you reply. 

Ingrid’s parents share a look that you don’t see. Was the nickname you had given their daughter part of your English charm or were you really in love with her. 

“So you love our daughter?” Ingrid’s father asks rather boldly. 

“Pappa!” Ingrid comes to your rescue just in time. 

The three important words had not been said but the feeling was there. 

“I do” when you stand to your feet you feel betrayed by your body and mouth. 

“You do?” Ingrid face is the picture of shocked. 

“I do” you whisper softly “I think I’ve know for a while. Everything was made clear in the summer. I was heartbroken but you took me in your arms and held me until I was whole again” 

There it was. The admission that you, for some unknown reason, had been scared to make. 

Ingrid didn’t care that her family was surrounding her. She kissed you with the same passion as the kisses you share at home. It may not be an intense kiss but it is enough to convey her feelings. 

“I love you, I really do” 

What comes over you, you have no idea but you lean back in for another kiss, a peck. The public display of affection does earn a fake gagging sound by her brother before he announces dinner is ready and served. You do have to hold back a laugh when he goes the extra lengths to let everyone know he did it without his sister’s help. 

Later that night you get another hot shower to warm you up. Maybe your girlfriend was right about you getting sick. 

The two of you lay in Ingrid’s teenage room. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?” Your girlfriend asks you. 

“What did I say earlier?” 

Hearing this Ingrid sits up and slaps you on the chest. The impact send you into a coughing fit. 

“Don’t play with me. Also, you’re getting sick. Take these” 

You are handed two tablets which you take happily despite your stubbornness. 

“I meant it but I thought it was too soon and I didn’t want to scare you away. How was I suppose to tell you I love you after only being dating for a month, in fact we weren’t even dating, not officially” 

“You knew after a month?” 

“You think it’s too much. You see, this is why I didn’t want to tell you”

Your brain went into overdrive as you began overthinking your decision. 

“It’s not too much Y/N. I met you a year ago yet I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer. I would shock myself at how easy I would open up to you. When it comes to you it’s like time has no concept”

Nobody has ever spoken about you in that way. You were never anyone’s person until you met Ingrid.

“Jeg elsker deg” Ingrid pecks you on the lips “Jeg elsker deg” 

When you fall asleep that night you do so with a huge smile on your face and a sense of calmness that you very rarely feel. 

The next morning Ingrid wakes up to the sound of you coughing, or more accurately barking, in the bathroom. 

“I’m sick” you admit when you see Ingrid standing behind you in the mirror. 

“Come on I’ll make you some broth that will have you feeling good as new in no time” 

“You don’t have to. I’ve taken some more medicine, I’m ok” 

“I know I don’t have to. I want to and it’s what I do for the people I love”

[just1cefor4ll]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, might be OOC, swearing

part one || part two || part three

‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️

‘I need someome to show me the things

in life that I can’t find.’

With a loud thud, Powder burst into the room, stumbling over her own feet and nearly causing your morning coffee to spill all over your art project—a project due in just under a week. "Powder! Jesus—slow down!" you exclaimed, letting out a frustrated groan as you steadied your coffee mug. Taking a long sip to steady your nerves, you swiveled in your desk chair to face her, one brow raised in curiosity. "So, what’s got you in such a rush?"

Powder was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy contagious enough to turn your initial annoyance into amusement. "You know that café with the whole vintage, 80s vibe you’ve been dying to visit?" she began, her tone filled with anticipation. Immediately, your ears perked up, and your confusion began to shift into hope. “Yeah, what about it? They’re always booked solid. Did something happen?” Instead of answering, she squealed with delight and shoved her phone in front of your face. On the screen was a reservation confirmation—a table for eight at 12 o’clock.

Your eyes widened as you did a double take. “No way.” Checking the time, you saw you had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get ready. Without hesitation, you pulled Powder into a quick hug and kissed her forehead before running off to prepare.

As you enter the bathroom you decide to style your hair in the way you always did for special occasions. It was a routine you knew by heart, and the familiarity calmed your excitement enough to let you focus. Opening your chaotic closet, you scanned its contents and grabbed the first outfit that caught your eye. You layered it with accessories that reflected your personal style before glancing at the clock. "Forty-five minutes," you muttered, impressed with your speed. Thankfully, waking up early to shower and do your skincare routine meant you had saved yourself a lot of stress—a rare victory you silently thanked your past self for.

Powder, now pacing the dorm trying to think of what to get at the café, noticed you were ready and practically dragged you to the full-length mirror she had insisted on bringing to your shared space earlier in the semester.

"Wait! Stay still," she commanded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you. You struck a playful pose at the last second, making her giggle as she added the picture to her camera roll, no doubt planning to post it later along with the many already planned ahead photo ideas she had in mind.

Powder grinned and grabbed your hand, practically bouncing out the door as you both made your way toward what promised to be an unforgettable day.

Oh and unforgettable it was.

You arrived at the subway station and met up with everyone— except Mel and Jayce who decided they’d go by car since it was the best possible option for them as they were out earlier that morning and were just 10 minutes away from your destination.

Viktor was seated next to you while the others had run off to find a place to sit in the packed space which had been a bit uncomfortable since everyone was standing body to body and god knows how many pervs were lurking around. You absentmindedly scooted closer to Viktor, bumping into his cane which almost hit the person standing next to you before you luckily caught it. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t thinking straight— shit, is it damaged or anything? I’ll buy you whatever you please at that cafe, I’m sorry.” You stuttered out, earning a teasing grin from Viktor. “No harm done, but if you’re offering..” You breathe out a relieved sigh, chuckling sheepishly; “I mean I don’t mind getting you something. It could be like a thanks for listening to me and my band play.” And with that, it was settled.

When the train pulled into your stop, everyone spilled out onto the platform. Ekko stumbled dramatically, throwing his arms up as if he’d just escaped certain doom. "Oh my god fresh air!" he exclaimed, drawing laughter from the group. “Alright, let’s go," Vi said in a commanding tone. "We’ve got twenty minutes until our reservation, so move it, squirts, and Vik." She said, Powder flipping her off as a faint; “Hey! Why’d you leave Viktor out of your pathetic try at an insult?” could be heard as all of them climbed up the stairs ahead of you and the man mentioned.

The walk to the café was surprisingly quiet, save for Powder and Ekko’s chatter. Viktor’s cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement, a sound that seemed to echo in the silence. You fiddled with your sleeves absentmindedly, still replaying your earlier clumsiness in your mind. Noticing your fidgeting, Viktor broke the silence. "I heard you’ve been wanting to visit this place since the start of the semester," he said, his tone more observational than questioning. You looked at him, caught slightly off guard by his comment. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice softening. "I’ve always loved the vibe. It’d be a dream to play there, but it’s just one of those things that probably won’t happen." Viktor frowned slightly at your words. "Why not? You’ve got the talent. And, dare I say, a very charming personality. There’s no doubt you could swoon the manager over and into giving you a gig—maybe even by next week."

His confidence in you made your cheeks flush, a shy smile spreading across your face. "Viktor, you really have a way with words it’s truly admirable," you said with a laugh. "You know, you’re the kind of person they’d write rock songs about."

Before he could respond, you giggled and darted ahead to catch up with the rest of the group, who were now gathered at the café’s entrance. Viktor watched you go, a faint smile playing at his lips before he made his way over to where Jayce and Mel were waiting.

The café was a dream come to life. Warm signs flickered gently against the dark wood walls, and the faint crackle of vinyl played on an old jukebox in the corner. Every detail—from the checkered floor to the vintage records and trinkets on the shelves.. it all felt so unreal. The stained glass also added on to the whole vibe, the colourful glass reflecting the suns beautiful rays onto the floor, walls and even booths giving it that magical touch.

You couldn’t help but smile as you took it all in. Powder was already snapping pictures with her phone, Ekko leaning into the frame and striking goofy poses. Caitlyn and Vi claimed the booth’s corner seats, their hands brushing as they shared a menu. Jayce and Mel arrived shortly after, bringing the group all together.

The energy was vibrant, the table filled with overlapping conversations and laughter as everyone admired the café’s welcoming and cozy aura. Viktor took a seat beside you again, his quiet presence somehow grounding amidst all the noise.

"See?" Powder beamed, nudging your shoulder. "Worth the rush, right?" "Totally," you admitted, leaning back and savoring the moment. "This place is amazing." As everyone placed their orders, Viktor leaned slightly toward you, his voice low so only you could hear. "Do you still think playing here is just a dream?" His question caught you off guard. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. "I mean... yeah? It’s not like places like this to just hand out gigs to random people. I doubt they’d want a rock band playing here anyway.. especially not college students.” He let your words sink in for a while before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Who knows. Sometimes you just need the right connections to make things happen.”

Before you could press him on what he meant, the food and drinks arrived, and the table erupted into excitement. Plates of waffles, milkshakes, coffee and a whole bunch of other delicious dishes were passed around, each one looking like it had stepped straight out of a retro diner ad.

Ekko was the first to dive in, immediately stealing a bite from Powder’s plate. "Hey!" she protested, smacking his hand away with a laugh. Everyone dug in and continued their conversations, you yourself indulging in a conversation with Mel and Jayce who were curious about your career choice and major which you were more then happy to talk about. They stared in awe as you explained how you met each member and how you all formed the band, Powder and Ekko later joining in and as did Caitlyn.

At some point, Viktor excused himself, disappearing for a whole 15 minutes but you decided to let it go, indulging in whatever topic your friends had brought up.

When Viktor returned, he wore an expression that was far too pleased with himself. You raised an eyebrow, but he simply shrugged and slid back into his seat, redirecting the conversation effortlessly.

The group lingered at the café for over an hour, soaking in the atmosphere and sharing stories. When it finally was time to leave, you felt a pang of reluctance but pushed it aside, grateful for the experience.

As the group made their way out, Viktor fell into step beside you. "You might want to keep your calendar clear for next weekend," he said casually, his tone light but meaningful. You frowned, confused. "Why?" "Let’s just say you’ll need it free," he replied cryptically, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You wanted to press him for more details, but the others were already calling for you to catch up. The walk back was just as lively as before, Powder and Ekko bickering playfully while Vi and Caitlyn walked hand in hand.

All the while, Viktor’s words echoed in your mind, sparking a tiny ember of excitement you couldn’t quite extinguish.

The days that followed Viktor’s very vague message had you up and restless all night. You tried to keep yourself busy—between classes, band practice, and working on your art project, you thought you could distract yourself with but Viktor’s words lingered like a riddle you couldn’t solve.

Powder was no help either. “You’re overthinking it,” she said casually one night as you both sat in your dorm. “Am I?” you asked, strumming a chord on your guitar. “He tells me to keep my calendar clear and then refuses to explain anything. How am I not supposed to think about it?” Powder shrugged, lying back on her bed with her phone in hand. “Look, maybe it’s something cool, or maybe it’s just Viktor being, y’know, Viktor. Either way, freaking out isn’t gonna help.”

You sighed, knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the curiosity from eating at you. Viktor was too intentional, too precise for this to be random. Whatever he had planned, it wasn’t something small.

By Wednesday, your patience had worn thin. After class, you spotted Viktor in the library, surrounded by notes and his laptop, indulged in his work. Deciding you couldn’t wait any longer, you walked over and slid into the seat across from him. He looked up, mildly surprised but not displeased. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirked, knowing exactly why you were there.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” you said, folding your arms. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Do I?” “You’ve been playing this weird game of mystery all week,” you said, exasperated. “Come on, just spill it already. What’s going on?” Viktor chuckled softly, amused by your little outburst. “You’re impatient,” he observed. “Yeah, and you’re avoiding the question,” you shot back, brows furrowed with annoyance.

Viktor’s smirk widened slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Perhaps. But where’s the fun in revealing everything so soon?” You narrowed your eyes at him, torn between frustration and curiosity. “You know, not everyone enjoys playing your shitty guessing games, Viktor.” He leaned forward, resting his hands lightly on his cane. “And yet, here you are, thoroughly invested.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing he was right. “Fine,” you said with a resigned sigh, leaning back in your chair. “But if this turns out to be some overhyped bullshit, I swear to god Viktor I’ll smash my guitar against your head.” You said, of course not meaning the petty threat seariously since guitars were hella expensive but you definitely were annoyed.

Viktor’s chuckle deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching in a rare, genuine smile. “Noted. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed rockstar.”

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[yanderes-galore]

Hi hope you’re doing ok ! Would it be alright if I request a Short story for yandere romance MK where the reader(if possible female if not gn is fine) finds out about his weird dark hobbies /thoughts. Reader tries to keep her distance only for it to backfire immediately. Now reader is trying to escape from MK only for the reader to bump into Mei, hoping to be helped the reader goes to her only for dragon girl to trick them and lead them back to MK much to the reader betrayal and MK joy 🌺anon 

Sure! Doesn't look like I added your anon name to my list... so I'll do that before this is posted :) Anyways, I hope I did well... Here's delusional MK having Mei help him keep you for himself.

Two Faced

Yandere! MK Oneshot (With Enabler! Mei)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Mei enables MK, Implied kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Secret picture taking, Unwanted affection (Kisses and hugs), Consensual turned forced relationship.

It was hard to say 'no' when it came to your ex, MK. He didn't force you into anything... but it was hard to stand your ground when he gave you those damn puppy eyes. Unfortunately... you were going to hit your limit at some point.

MK had always been... clingy. Clingy to the point it began to cause problems in your life. You loved him, you really did...

But he could never leave his girlfriend alone if he tried.

You immediately knew something was wrong when you noticed MK's strange behavior. Normally you never suspected a thing, he was just clingy and overly attentive. He's such a sweetheart...

One who apparently stalks his girlfriend.

It was when you found his diary and secret photo album that you noticed MK's behavior. You had a feeling he was watching you. With all those powers of his, anything was possible...

Those items were your breaking point.

You had broken up with MK since you found out his behavior. It was a difficult process, MK didn't make it easy to leave him. Not with all his pleading and tears....

You had distanced yourself from MK after the breakup. You knew he wasn't taking it well. How could you not when he kept blowing up your phone or kept trying to follow you around?

Mei had been the one you usually go to in order to vent. You had told her all about MK's behavior. You worry about him, but at the same time, you're concerned about his unhealthy behavior.

Mei always smiles and nods, listening to your pleas. She's a good friend of MK's too, yet she knows he's been strange lately. It hurts you both to see him cry... but he'll get over it...

....

He never did.

"Baby, please! I miss you!" MK pleads as you run. His condition has only seemed to worsen since the last time you saw him. Has he even showered properly?

"You were supposed to be my girl! I'm sorry I messed up, baby... please come back! I'll be better!" MK yells while you run through the quickly darkening streets.

He had waited until after work to confront you. You had just gotten out of your own job, expecting to walk home like normal. Unfortunately, when you got home...

MK was there with a nervous smile, twitching eagerly as he tried to go in for a hug.

After that you had ditched. You needed to run. You needed to go find help... but who could you—?

Your eyes widen when you see the familiar green attire of your friend. You run down an alley, waiting for MK to pass, before approaching Mei. Tears are in your eyes... you're out of breath...

"Help...!" You plead, Mei giving you a surprised look.

"Hey, girl... what's wrong?" Mei asks, looking concerned with you being so out of breath.

"MK... He's lost it! You gotta help me... I don't know how to fix this...!" You plead, Mei nodding in thought.

"... alright, come on, let's fix this." Mei agrees, quietly taking your hand. You give a thankful smile and follow your friend gratefully.

You're led through the streets. You assume Mei might take you somewhere to get help, or maybe even let you rest at her home. Either way... you feel very comforted by your friend...

However...

After a few minutes you find yourself in front of MK.

"W-What are you doing!?" You plead, looking at Mei with hurt eyes. Her own gaze is conflicted... yet determined.

"You wanted to fix things... right?" Mei whispers, glancing at MK. "In order to do that... maybe you two should talk?"

You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Mei! You found her! You actually found her!" MK squeals, giddy over the fact he finally has his girlfriend back. "Yes! Come here, baby...."

You yelp when MK pulls you into a bone crushing hug, Mei awkwardly watching from the side. She feels horrible... you didn't deserve this. But at the same time...

She couldn't bear to watch MK cry over you anymore, it only made him more destructive....

You struggle but MK is stronger than you. He peppers you in kisses and hugs, whispering pet names as he clings to you. You can't tell if you want to cry... or scream....

"Thank you so much, Mei..." MK whispers, glancing up at his friend. "I'm going to take my baby home now, she and I have some... catching up to do."

Mei nods quietly, watching as MK drags you down the street. You're struggling, tears brimming your eyes as you look to Mei for help. Mei hesitates... but doesn't react.

MK needs you...

Hopefully things go back to normal after this since he has you... right?

[johnnyutah]

average adam faulkner stanheight fan: if adam isn’t in saw xi we riot! @lionsgate @kevingruetert @jameswan #adamlives #justiceforadam #corpseinconsistencies

average john kramer fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

average jill tuck fan: Appreciation post for the Women of Saw 🩷 [the same ten photos that get posted once a week]

average lawrence gordon fan: last night i watched a 2004 tv movie about serial killers called ‘the riverman’, followed by the cheesy family rom-com ‘a castle for christmas’. today my friends and i are going to binge the entire third season of netflix’s ‘stranger things’. none of us have seen a single episode of the rest of the show and we don’t plan on it. then we might rewatch ‘another country’ together

average amanda young fan: sorry i haven’t been online in 4 weeks i’ve been too busy trying to get the new pig cosmetic in the rift [posted 7 weeks ago]

average mark hoffman fan: [underneath a gifset of costas mandylor in a republican christian propaganda ‘sci-fi’ movie] #hes so fucking hot #i would give anything to put him in a sports bra and make him do jumping jacks in front pf me i would literally do #ANYTHING #i need to make him into a marionett and fist him lol

average daniel rigg fan: Here’s a quick low effort doodle I did of Daniel! I just love him so much ❤️ [a literal masterpiece, the best art you’ve ever seen in your entire life] [3 notes]

average allison kerry fan: i am hardcore attached to ONE ship which is probably either allison/amanda or allison/lindsey and my whole blog is devoted to them. there are dozens of us DOZENS

average lynn denlon fan: okay so i know bahar is a realtor now but in her last instagram post where she’s congratulating her son on some new achievement, both the first and last words in the post have 11 letters, AND there’s an X and an I visible in the background of her post 👀?? is this a reach???

average jeff denlon fan: No seriously let me finish seriously when you compare him to the other shitty men in Saw he’s NOT that b

average david tapp fan: i’m 39k away from publishing my 40k tappsing Everybody Lives AU <3 this is going to be epic [account has been deactivated for an indeterminate amount of time]

average brit stevenson and mallick scott fan: Hey I stayed up making this instead of writing my thesis paper for grad school. Here’s a 30,000 word document about the implications of Brit’s promotion within the Marshford group and how it would lead to her eventual demise and also how she rose to the top in her group. It also delves into her relationship with Mallick, whose existence, I believe, is an obvious literary reference to an ancient Roman play read by only me and three other people currently alive. I translated relevant passages and included them in my work. I got understimulated around page 8 so I did take a break to pierce myself in the same spot that I believe Mallick would have a piercing. If you read my fics on AO3 you will already be familiar with the location.

average peter strahm fan: haha peter does CRACK cocoaine haha i think he sniffeds some drugs! why else would he be so MANIC HYPER CRAZY!!! i love my crazy JUNKIE man LOL get him some andderall STAT!! if hoffman didn’t kill him the SPEED certianly would of! LOL!

average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

[mercurygray]

I love this prompt list!! Could I have 9. historic and 23. wind for anyone you’d like to write?

A little post-war tidbit, for Dick and Joan and a few other familiar faces.

Try as he might, he could not remember the house.

"Well, of course you don't remember it," Joan said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "You never came upstairs. The most you ever saw of the inside of the Frobishers' was the Captain's study for a drink after dinner."

Dick allowed that she was right, and contented himself with pulling her a little closer and trying to find his memory of that room - just inside the front door, to the left. He remembered a chess board and a whiskey decanter, and long panoramic photos on the wall. Well, that was something, at least. His mind hadn't completely deserted him after all this time away.

It was cold, for September, with the wind coming out of the North, and the fur-lined lap robe seemed the very height of luxury here in the wide back bench seat of the saloon car. Mrs. Frobisher was, as always, a very thoughtful hostess - she'd sent the car to the station at Newbury with the robe, a flask of tea, and strict instructions that the couple were to come straight to the house so they might have time to freshen up before dinner. So for now it was just the two of them opening up their shared personal history and reminiscing fondly about Wiltshire country roads.

"You were always in and out of our rooms," Dick remembered, suddenly, as the car took them by the turning-in to the drive for Littlecote House.

"And I always had the door open when I did it," Joan pointed out. "If I'd even thought of inviting you upstairs with me the scandal would have been all over town by tea-time." She smiled privately and, looking over at him, squeezed his knee. "And I'll remind you at the time, you weren't very interested in upstairs rooms or in me, Lieutenant Winters."

"More fool me," Dick said dryly, covering her hand with his own so it might stay where it was.

"Here we are," said the driver, cutting in as politely as he could as he turned into the drive.

"Who on earth is that?" Dick asked, taking note of a tall, dark-haired man in his late twenties standing next to Captain and Mrs. Frobisher in the drive.

"That must be one of their sons," Joan said, sitting up and studying the face a little as the car pulled to a stop. "I couldn't tell you which."

Dick was glad, at least, that he wasn't the only one without answers, and contented himself with rearranging the robe away from the door so Joan might step out of the car and exchange greetings and Abigail Frobisher could admire, in this order, her hair, her coat, and her luggage, before launching into a detailed version of the itinerary that had already been decided weeks ago by letter.

"And Major Winters! So good to see you again, my dear. I don't think either of you have met Aubrey, our eldest. He was away, when you were here last."

"You make it sound like I was at school, Mother," Aubrey observed with a slight smile, stepping forward to join the group, "and not fighting the Japanese. Heard so much about you both," the younger Frobisher offered, shaking hands with both of them. Dick took note of the cane he was resting on, the slight brittleness of his smile, and tried to remember the pictures on the Captain's desk. Was it Army, or Air Forces? The detail escaped him. If he wanted to know how Aubrey Frobisher had been injured, it seemed like Dick was going to need to ask.

"All of it good, I hope," Joan joked, merely for something to say.

"The absolute best," Aubrey assured her, her hand still in his. "I was promised you were a beauty, and I'm happy to report a rare case of my mother telling the truth."

"Aubrey!" Just which part of what he'd said had raised offense with his mother was difficult to divine - she looked flushed, though whether that was from her comments about Joan or her son's about her gossip no one could say. And, too, there was a slight touch of color in Joan's cheeks too, a fact which made Dick a little warm under the collar himself.

"Shall we all go inside?" Captain Frobisher, as always, had the whole thing well in hand, interrupting before anyone got too hot. He held the door open to allow his wife and Joan into the house first, letting his son take his time with the two steps up and heading up the rear with Dick. "How are you, Major?"

"Well enough," Dick said, shaking the Captain's hand. "Keeping busy. You?"

"Can't complain," Oliver Frobisher said with a shrug. "The world keeps turning and we all turn with it. It's nice to have a full house again. Will you have a game of chess after dinner - for old time's sake? I haven't had a half-decent game since I played against your friend Nixon."

"If you want half-decent, you'd better keep waiting," Dick managed, still trying to keep his eye on Aubrey and Joan. "Nix was always a better player than me."

"Ah, well, in chess, maybe," the Captain said with a smile. "It seems to me you won the only other game worth playing." He nodded to Joan, who had finally been left alone in the hall after Mrs. Frobisher had sent her son on some errand or another, and winked.

Dick smiled gratefully and joined his wife to help take off her coat.

"Are you jealous, Mr. Winters?" Joan asked, when she'd gotten out of her scarf and helped him leave his own overcoat on the hall tree. "You have a terrible poker face."

"I'm just glad he was in Burma while you were here," Dick said quietly, his relief little-hidden now that the two of them were alone, thinking of Aubrey, and Lew, and a thousand other dark-eyed charmers. "If he'd been here I don't think I would have stood a chance."

[thefandomenchantress]

So I know I’m a little late to the party on this one, but I wanna talk about the David MV.

I finally decided to watch that nearly three hour video on the Literature Girl Insane MV, (by @/1moreff-creator) and HOLY SHIT IT’S SO GOOD. I wish I watched it sooner and wonder why I didn’t, I watch almost exclusively 1+ hour videos about random topics I know nothing about, and now there’s one for something I care a lot about! Why didn’t I watch immediately?!?

But my lapse in sanity aside, it finally got me motivated enough to talk about the David MV!

…Except only the part about Ace because of course that’s all I want to talk about. 9 out of 10 of my posts are either about him or have him involved somehow.

Anyways! Here’s the part I find very interesting!

This is arguably where Ace is most relevant, and therefore it makes sense I want to talk about it today.

Now, first things first, the Roman numeral. V (five) is Ace’s Roman numeral, as assigned by the crossword. The line attached is:

“Right now, why do you go insane?”

Which definitely fits. Ace could easily be framed as going insane, because he has mental breakdowns at a worryingly high frequency. Him and Veronika (who this might also be referring to if color theory is to be believed) are basically assigned the role of being seen as mentally unhinged within the class.

(…Ever think about how weird it is that the title is Literature Girl Insane, implying the star of the MV, David, is going insane, yet Ace is the one getting called insane, possibly by David? I think that’s interesting. But let’s get back on track.)

As established by other Roman numerals, the words in the background when a numeral shows itself also apply the character attached to said numeral. This is most obviously shown in the line near the top of the photo.

“A cat has 9 additional lives”

This is also easily applicable to Ace, since he survived Nico’s murder attempt against all odds. If Eden and Teruko hadn’t just so happened to be on the 2nd floor and walked into the gym when they did, he would’ve died. While the actual methodology of Nico’s murder attempt is unknown, it’s also possible that him even surviving long enough for Teruko and Eden to find them was a miracle. Either way, it fits.

The last quote on-screen intrigues me the most. It’s a quote from Hamlet.

“I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.”

Now, first let’s look at just those words, without further context. It’s important we know what the words themselves mean before we do anything else. Let’s start with the definition of north-northwest, since that word is pretty important to the quote.

I’m sure most are familiar with north, east, south, and west. The four main directions on a compass. As well as Northeast, Southeast, Southwest, and Northwest. That splits the compass into eight directions, splitting the sections of north, east, south, and west in half.

Similarly, north-northwest is a direction that comes from splitting the compass into sixteen parts. It’s the half of the northwest section that’s closer to north.

Next, what the hell does “I know a hawk from a handsaw” mean? It’s almost half the quote, so it’s important we know.

Well…*extremely loud sigh* Shakespeare, as you know, was alive a very long time ago. As such, he writes in old-time-y English that’s hard to understand. And this quote has the misfortune of being something people argue over the translation of, at least as far as I could tell while researching.

Some people think Shakespeare meant a heronsaw, a type of bird, not a handsaw. Others think that no, he meant handsaw, but heron, in his time period, was also a common word for a tool that holds plaster/mortar/etc..

Either way, Shakespeare was probably referring to two types of birds, or two types of tools, which have key differences from one and other. I don’t think which one the DRDTdev thought was right really matters in this instance, since the quote makes sense either way. 15/16s of the time, Hamlet (the speaker of the quote) is sane and can tell two birds/tools apart.

The quote is, in summary, saying that Hamlet is mad only when it’s north-northwest, aka 1/16th of the time (I’m not sure if that somehow connects to there being 16 participants in the killing game, but I’m going to assume it doesn’t). The other 15/16s of the time, Hamlet is perfectly sane, thank you very much.

So, without context, this quote is saying that Ace is only insane 1/16th of the time. The rest of the time he’s sane.

Next, I think another important thing we have to do is take into account the whole screenshot as a whole. By that I mean we should not only look at each line individually, but how they relate to each other. In bold is the “why do you go insane?” Line, and to the left, in a font that blends more into the background, is the Hamlet line.

There is a contradiction of opinions here. One person says, “Why do you go insane?” while the other insists they’re only a little bit insane.

This could be referring to the opinions of David and Ace. After all, one could argue it was David underestimating Ace that led to his secret being revealed. David doesn’t bother being careful around Ace in the trial, despite Ace’s volatile nature. He piles suspicion onto Ace by saying it’s weird he didn’t see him on the second floor the night before the murder, even though it isn’t. After all:

Ace was in the gym. David was in the relaxation room. Those are on opposite sides of the floor, so of course David wouldn’t have seen Ace. He didn’t even have to walk anywhere close to the room Ace was in. But David saying this information like it’s weird and suspicious makes everyone else think it is.

David thinks: But what’s Ace gonna do about it? Somehow get the whole class on his side, even though almost everyone likes me more? Is everyone really going to trust the mentally unstable (one could say insane), dumb, cowardly jockey over me?

Yes, yes they will.

All this is to say, David, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t really care about Ace throughout chapter two. He steals Nico’s secret from him, antagonizes him in the trial, and doesn’t care. Ace doesn’t matter. Ace, of all people, can’t be the one to ruin him. So who cares if Ace dislikes him? Ace is of no use to David, and Ace certainly isn’t smart enough to figure out David’s scheme. This is what David believes.

However, this leads to him not taking Ace’s volatile nature seriously enough, believing he is above the harm of someone like him. But hey, even a pawn can play a vital part in checkmating a king.

When David pisses off Ace, believing Ace can’t do anything besides get angry, yell, and make himself look more suspicious…That turns out to be a crucial mistake that ruins everything.

…Y’know, the irony of the class idiot being the one to beat the so-called master manipulator will never not be funny to me.

Anyways, we can sort of apply this to Hamlet, too. If Ace is Hamlet, since this is Hamlet’s line, and David is Claudius, his father-in-law, we do have a pretty good parallel.

Claudius, who secretly killed Hamlet’s father and then took his throne, is secretly not as righteous as he seems. However, Hamlet finds out about Claudius being the one who killed his father and seeks revenge. Claudius thinks Hamlet to be mad, but when Claudius isn’t around, Hamlet says, “But my uncle-father (Claudius) [is] deceived. I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.” Eventually, Hamlet kills Claudius. So in DRDT terms, Ace finds out about David’s manipulation, David is unaware of this, and Ace eventually kills David’s public persona. Obviously this is an extreme simplification of the plot, but still.

…Of course, there’s also a chance this contradiction of opinions isn’t about Ace and David specifically. After all, David isn’t the only one to boil Ace down to his core traits of “dumb, angry, overall not a well-adjusted individual”. The whole class does this, at least for the most part. This Hamlet quote could just be trying to say what Ace has been saying. That everyone sees him as a loudmouth, stupid, cowardly and nothing more, when in reality there’s more to him than that.

I might have gone a little overboard with this part…I got excited…Hopefully this all actually makes sense, I had to revise some of this post because it got ramble-y and overall pretty cluttered.

So yeah. Here’s my (very late) contribution to the David MV discussion. Here’s what I think Ace’s part means. If you want me to elaborate anywhere, feel free to tell me, or if you want to tell me your thoughts, I’d love to see that!

[hislittleraincloud]

The spring release date was said by Bianca’s mom actress (Gracy Goldman) on an Instagram comment, she said spring time 2025. I believe someone that is on the show has more knowledge than fans, yes post production takes a lot of time but we don’t know if they’re already editing some episodes while they film the others

*takes your hand*

*whispers* She doesn't know shit either.

Production for Season 1 Wednesday went from September 2021 to March 2022. That is seven months of filming and about seven to eight months of post production.

Production for Season 2 Wednesday went from early May 2024 to late November 2024 (not counting if there are any reshoots/other problems, and December was supposed to be the official wrap, despite the photo that's been circulating for the 'early' wrap party as it was posted on TwitteX).

That would mean you're speculating only ~ five to six months (at best) post-production, since the Spring TV season ends at the end of May (it's from March to May). Why in Hell would anyone think there would be less post time in the second 8-episode series ��� which is supposed to be "bigger and better" — is beyond me. This here might last less than three minutes, but it doesn't take only three months, it takes 2x as long to do something like it:

And if there's more of that, then it won't take less than the first season's post. Remember that Ortega herself said it'll be bigger and each episode is "like a movie".

It doesn't matter if you think there's final editing going on while the rest of the show is being filmed. That's not how it works/worked. If it did, that would've applied to the first season, and it would've taken less than eight fucking months in post/to get it out, and we saw just how much F/X went into that (with the creation of Nevermore, Tyler/Hyde, Kent underwater, Ajax's snakes, Enid's nails and final transformation/battle with Tyler, the crappy/easy Bianca Siren Song, Thing...did I miss anything there in terms of actual VFX? Nero, Eugene's bees, Xavier's drawings/paintings? Managing the other green screen graphics aside from Thing/Victor, that might be a big one?). That shit has got to be perfect, since everyone is expecting just as 'good' a season as its premiere, if not better.

And then there's a million technical things to get through in post/editing and putting it together. And then Elfman's gotta score it (or did you think that his music just magically materialized wherever Burton or Ortega moved?). He would have to watch the series to know whatever it is he needs to compose/make sure it's coherent and flows well in the finished project. Junkie XL tells us that for him, it can take anywhere from 3 weeks to a year and a half (for Mad Max: Fury Road) to score a film. Elfman and the whole crew are producing what the equivalent of 6 films would be (six 1.3hr films). That's a lot of work if he's not just going to recycle much from Season 1's score. Composers work differently and Elfman has the advantage of having completed Wednesday 1, but that's also a challenge since they want familiarity without the direct repetition of anything but the main theme.

Perhaps you and whoever else should stop and listen to the straight guys adults in the room:

While he may have run through Wednesday fairly quickly because he was given only 10 days to work on each episode after the first two (he thought he was only going to score the first two episodes, so they spent a month on that), these guys watch finished scenes over and over. This time around they can avoid a repeat of that three month stress, and I think they will. Creatives learn how to modify unreasonable requests since they've experienced how anxiety-inducing it was the first time around when they were unsure of how it'd be received.

Anyway. I repeat, it's not coming out in the spring, but here's my promise: If I am wrong and Wednesday 2 comes out in Spring 2025 — before the end of May (my birthday/two years after I debuted Satisfying Afterburn) — after only five to six months of post-production, I will write the most fkd up, sexplicit Wenclair smut that the fandom has ever seen. I'll even make it Afterburn canon.

Color me wrong, universe. I would truly love to be wrong on this, because we're all eager to see WTF they did/how they work around absences and with such a huge cast (who more than likely need some sort of VFX for some of the characters). The cast of Wednesday 2 is bloated. There's just too much they would need to do, I would think. I could be wrong. I want to be wrong. But I'm not counting on a minor-ish actor's throwaway comments on IG.

🫠

Okay, now for a bonus thought that has little to do with the speculated date of Wednesday 2's release date.

For historical purposes and I'm bored: Y'all (ALL you damn kids) should probably heed what a pre-Wenclair, pre-Wyler Ortega stated about Wednesday's motivations (i.e. before Wednesday came out and before her fame blew up, when she was more honest and before she had to self-censor and deal with something I don't think she — or any of the cast — was prepared to deal with) emphasis mine and ahh, her Old Face pre-nosejob:

"Something else I want to stress about the show too is that I never wanted it to seem like she was doing something out of the goodness of her heart. Because that wasn't what it was, it was more genuine interest, you know ... — I don't think she was ever going out intentionally to save lives or to be a hero, but more so "Oh my God, how is this guy actually pulling this off?" like, jotting down her own notes sort of thing. And it was actually the first time in her life not understanding someone's actions when they're being laid out right in front of her."

She also describes how part of Wednesday's behavioral journey was learning how to manipulate/bargain better (those are not her words, they're mine, but when you get to the part where she says Wednesday figures out that if she behaves a certain way, she can't obtain what she wants so she learns what to do, that's what it is). Nowhere in this early interview was even a hint of any of the teen romance, real or imagined, mentioned (and the criticisms about the love triangle only came after the reviews/fan complaints and preferences were aired).

But she does mention how NC Wednesday wants to be a detective. Who better to show her the ropes than Donovan? She was genuinely interested in hanging around him because he was also supposed to be an investigator that she could learn from...and teach.

...Heh.

🫠✨🖤🐦‍⬛💕👮🏻‍♂️💙✨

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 17 of 21 Questions

better interface on wattpad + chaps updated till 27

What the–, Matt thought as he was currently looking at his Instagram feed. He had decided to browse through Instagram incognito with his second account, but nothing had prepared him for what he was looking at.

Am I being crazy or– there's no way. Matt was kind of starting to panic as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He dared glance at Nick and Chris who hadn't noticed his confused state yet. Should he ask them for help? Should he mention his issue? Eh, what can I do alone… I need some objectivity.

“Hey guys…” Matt called for his brothers who were sitting on one of the beds.

“Yeah?” Chris replied without looking up.

“Can I talk about something?”

Feeling that it was somewhat important, Nick nudged Chris to put down his phone so that they could give their full attention to Matt.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?” Nick asked as he was worried with the tone Matt used.

“Hmm, nothing major but I needed to tell you about someone.”

“Okay…” Nick and Chris said in sync.

“So– I’ve been talking to this girl for like six or seven months I guess like since spring I’d say and…”

Now knowing where the conversation could go, neither Chris nor Nick was going to interrupt Matt as it was now or never.

“She might know us?” Matt internally cringed as he wasn’t even sure of what he was saying.

“What do you mean?” Nick demanded as he wanted clarification. “Have you said anything about yourself?”

“No but why are we only learning about this girl now?” Chris eventually interrupted as he felt confused.

“Well no, like– she knows my name is Matt but that’s all! It’s just– wait lemme explain, I’ll try to make sense.” Matt was starting to panic at the idea that his brothers didn’t approve of what he was going to tell them. “Ok so this girl, she’s called Lily. She randomly started texting me and at first I was weary obviously but then I realised we had quite some common ground like regarding cartoons and games such as Pokemon or Fortnite. I mean, we even played together once. But unrelated I guess, I don’t know…”

“Take your time bro, we ain’t going nowhere.” Chris reassured as he felt Matt stressing.

“Yeah, hmm… and it’s just– I started following her on Instagram with my other account you know and she’s really into photography so she posts landscapes and stuff, but her most recent posts looked too familiar and I just need you to confirm if I’m getting crazy or nah.”

As Matt had kind of finished rambling, he gave his phone open on Lily’s latest post. Nick took it and scrolled through the other posts below. Indeed, Nick and Chris felt a sense of familiarity as the photos were very much looking like the last three cities they’ve travelled to.

“Maybe she’s travelling through Florida, doesn’t mean it’s for us.” Chris tried to reason.

“Look at her tagged posts…” Matt quietly said.

Nick didn’t even have time to leave the post they were on that he let out a gasp.

“Wait– I know her.”

“WHAT?” Chris and Matt both exclaimed.

“Like I don’t know her but I know her account”, Nick started explaining as he tapped on a post of the sunset he had looked at before. “I was literally on it two days ago. She’s friends with someone who went on stage with us.”

“Oh... Oh…” They all realised together that Nick was basically confirming what Matt had been assuming.

To be absolutely certain, Nick did go see her tagged posts and indeed saw Alex’s posts from Orlando. This was now sure, Matt had met Lily and he’d had no idea although they had seen each other probably a couple of times.

“No yeah and I recognise her from our last three shows, I think?” Chris wondered out loud. “So yep bro, she does know us and we actually met her. Got a café and shit if I remember well.”

Matt didn’t know how to react. Not only Lily was a fan of him and his brothers, but he had met her in real life. How was he even supposed to react? Text her to confront her? Matt was completely lost at the moment, but only one thought was in his head and he spoke before thinking it through:

“Would it be crazy to say I wanna see her again?”

What, Matt realised what he had just said. What am I thinking? Fuck.

“Erm… what do you mean?” Nick softly asked as he could sense Matt’s stress increasing.

“Sorry, stupid idea. I don’t even know what I’m saying…” Matt replied as he was now embarrassed. “Just like– I literally met a great online friend but none of us was aware and, I don’t know… it’s weird because she might be sceptical at knowing that I am Matt, the Matt she’s been texting is the same as the Matt she’s a fan of.”

“Well, it makes sense to think like that.” Chris agreed with his brother. “But you can’t know until you guys actually talk about your real identities. Damn, it’s giving a spy movie.”

“Chris, stop.” Nick lightly punched his arm to prevent him from joking about it but when he saw that Matt actually laughed at it, he stopped tormenting Chris.

After a small silence, Matt finally gathered the courage to ask what the three of them had now been pondering about.

“Would it be weird to invite her to our last show?”

“Wow, you wanna meet her with the fam there?” Chris chuckled as he then continued with a more serious tone. “No problem with me to be honest, but how do you even want to bring this up with her?”

“Chris is right,” Nick agreed. “Are you gonna text her and reveal yourself out of nowhere?

“No, of course not.” Matt had rejected that idea from the beginning. “I kinda know how to do it I guess, but I just want your approval before doing anything.”

“Fine by me if you know how to get her there”, Chris shrugged.

“Nick?” Matt faced his brother, hoping to get a positive reaction.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to properly meet her. And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll take care of it so don’t worry.” Nick was actually giving his brother the green light to start his plan. “If I’m not mistaken about who she is, I remember her being really nice so it should be fine.”

“Yeah, she is really kind. I always thought you'd like her, so I hope you will.”

To finish reassuring Matt that everything was alright, Nick and Chris both pulled him into a group hug before letting him go text the now infamous girl.

Lily

Hey, it’s been a while

How are you?

MATT

Heyy

Yeah sorry i’ve been mia

I’m great tho, i’ve been travelling a bit w alex so it’s really fun

You?

It’s ok don’t worry, I was busy as well with my brothers

But I’m good too :)

And yeah i saw your pics, they look really nice

Thanks!

Where were you if I can ask?

Ofc ye

We went to atlanta then florida where we still are

Oh sweet

Celebrating anything special or just a well deserved break?

Hmm both I’d say

We just went to see some artists ig

But it was cool to move around for a bit

Ok matt you can do it

Unsent

Sounds cool indeed

Which singers are on tour rn?

Oh it wasn’t a concert

It was some youtubers

Like doing a tour to meet fans, play games and shit

Shit indeed

Unsent

This is the moment

Unsent

Wait it kinda rings a bell

Is it like those triplets?

Omg yes

The sturniolo triplets

How’d you know?? You watched them too?

Well i think my cousin was supposed to see them for their last show

Talked to me about it for weeks

That’s awesome!!

Wait, was? :(

She can’t go anymore yeah

That's a bummer

I hope she'll get another occasion if they ever do another tour somewhere later

She probably will

🤞🤞

Hey hmm

Might be weird to ask idk but would you wanna go?

I promise i don't wanna sound creepy

Oh-

Damn, wasn’t expecting that

Does she only have one ticket?

She has two

Ig you went w alex, right? So that’s why i’m offering

Would be free btw

She’s not even expecting resale anymore because the show is very soon i think

Yeah in like 2 days lmao

I’m tempted bro fr

I swear i’m not trying to scam you

You’re still in florida right? So not that far away depending your current city

And i can even send you my cousin’s number if you want to talk with her

The fuck are you doing, Matt thought as he felt like he sounded desperate and didn’t know how to proceed. How would he even get someone who doesn’t exist to text Lily? As he sighed, Matt brought Nick’s attention to him.

“What’s wrong? Is she reacting negatively to whatever you’re offering?”

“I guess she’s just being careful but…” Matt thought about how he could solve his situation. “What would you do for your brother in need?”

“Helping my favourite brother? Depends but almost anything if the reward is nice enough,” Nick replied with a small laugh.

“Hey!” Chris reacted to Nick’s mention of Matt being his favourite brother.

“You know I’m kidding, my favourite is Justin obviously.”

“So yeah Nick…” Matt tried to word his request. “How would you feel about texting Lily to pretend to be my cousin who has tickets for our last show?”

Both Nick and Chris silently looked at Matt to process what was his plan. As Nick asked for clarification, Matt explained the idea he had and what he needed from Nick.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad like–” Chris was supporting Matt for what he wanted to do. “If I were in her shoes I would be the same obviously, but it seems legit.”

“Well, it is.” Matt confirmed. “We can actually give out a couple of tickets to people even if the show is sold out, just gotta ask Laura to edit them.”

“True,” Nick agreed. “Count me in, I’m actually curious to get to know your little friend outside of the ‘Meet & Greet’ atmosphere.”

With a sigh of relief, Matt was prepared to send Lily’s number to Nick and vice versa when he saw that she had replied.

Lily

I’ll trust you dw

When would you be able to send them?

“Ok slight change of plans”, Matt quickly said as he looked up from his phone. “Nick, thanks but I won’t need you for the cousin persona. A for the effort though. And questions: first, how quick can Laura make me two tickets for backstage? Second, how mad would she be that it’s fucking last minute for a random girl?”

“If we explain the whole thing to her she might not be that mad?” Chris tried to rationalise as nothing looked wrong in his opinion. “Nick can ask her for the tickets and I explain to the parents that we’ll have two guests after the show with us.”

Nick nodded in agreement with his youngest brother then took his phone to text their manager Laura and see if she would come meet them to talk. Matt felt so supported at the moment that he couldn’t help the soft look in his eyes. He was capable of looking at his brothers with such pure love, especially when they were doing the most basic things for him.

“Thank you both, I would never do anything without you by my side.”

Comforting Matt for the second time tonight, Chris and Nick side hugged him to show their appreciation as Nick announced that Laura was coming over to their room.

Half an hour later, Laura had agreed to the triplets’ request and told them that she could get the tickets for the next day first thing in the morning, which Matt passed on to Lily. She thanked him for at least five minutes as she couldn’t believe her luck. It’s not everyday that the friend you’ve been texting for seven months coincidentally has a cousin who can miraculously give you tickets to your favourite YouTubers’ tour – it's also not everyday that said friend is actually one of those YouTubers.

Now that Laura was aware of the situation and that his parents didn’t mind the additional guests – they were actually excited about meeting a new friend of their son’s, Matt felt more relaxed and confident about how next Sunday would happen: he would meet fans, take pictures with them, do the show as usual, take other pictures, do the ‘normal’ backstage then finally meet Lily. He could do it. He had met her already. This was simply a more proper meeting, right? I can do it, I did a lot already to make it happen so I can’t chicken out now.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[sparkles-oflight]

Official Visualizer

I was going to post yesterday, but then...last night happened

Synopsis: Kris finds out his sick before leaving for London and Bojan doesn't miss an opportunity to send needy messages The fic doesn't get explicit, but the sexual tension is very much there, so, if you are not into this sort of thing, don't read!

(Yes, I might have read that one phone fanfic in Thailand and wanted to do something similar but more toned down, why do you ask?)

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

Yes, I make Kris call his mom "mama" because I think that's sweet.

In his childhood room, Kris' rest was interrupted by a soft and familiar voice.

- Kris...- his mom slowly opened the door to his room - Have you prepared your luggage?

He opened his eyes.

- Uh...not yet, mama. - he replied rubbing his eyes.

She got closer to the sleepy boy and touched him on the forehead.

- You have a fever.

Fuck. Kris had to catch a plane to London tomorrow. There's no way this was happening.

- Uh... I'm good I can prepare the luggage.

- Maybe it's best if you stay here for a couple of days. What if it's COVID again? You don't want to get your friends sick now, do you?

Well, that's true, he didn't want to get any of them sick - especially the vocalist. Kris' mom knew how to touch her son's heart.

- Okay, fine.

- Great, I'll get you something to eat and medicine. You should probably take a shower afterward. - she put her hand behind his head - You're sweaty.

- Thanks...

She left the room and he reached for his phone.

Kris Guštin: hi everyone Unfortunately, I have a fever, I don't think I'm going to go with you guys tomorrow Nacko: Are you okay? Kris Guštin: I probably just spent too much time in the cold or smth Janči: Well, get better soon Jurček: Get better soon, Kris!

His mom reentered the room with a glass of water and a cheese and ham sandwich.

- Here you go. - he noticed the medicine on the plate she bought.

She smiled at him. He knew deep down she was also happy to have him for a few more days.

- Thanks.

- I'll leave you now. - she smiled, blew him a kiss, and left him.

He looked back at his phone. He opened his private messages and saw Bojan had sent him a photo.

It was just a photo of him with a filter that made his eyes big with the caption "YOU'LL MISS MY BIRTHDAY!?"

Kris took another picture eating this sandwich with a pink filter. The caption was "Yes :)"

He decided to set his phone aside to finish the sandwich. He already got some crumbs on his bed, and he hated it. Maybe focusing on one task at a time was better.

When Kris finished, he picked up his phone again. New Bojan photo. He opened it. ":(" Bojan said while making a sad face.

Kris Guštin: Why are you making :( Kris Guštin: I'm the one who's sick Bojči ♥️: Because I won't be able to see you eat that sandwich next to me :( Kris Guštin: ??? Bojči ♥️: You kinda realize you had a very sexual face in that photo Kris Guštin: ???

Kris wanted to go back and see, but he only sent him as a one-view only photo.

Bojči ♥️: It was the messy hair, the sweat, the slightly open mouth, and the blush Kris Guštin: Bojan Kris Guštin: I'm sick. Bojči ♥️ sent a photo

Kris decided to take the medicine first, leaving just some water in the cup. When he opened Bojan's message, he captioned it with "This was you". He ruffled his own hair and did the pose he described previously but way more exaggerated and provocative.

Kris Guštin: I get it. You're horny. Bojči ♥️: I'm lonely! You left me alone to go to your parents'! Bojči ♥️: I wanted to be your nurse! Bojči ♥️: You'd be healthy in seconds with my special treatment ;) Bojči ♥️: I would have scrubbed your back as you showered! Bojči ♥️: I would check on you all the time Bojči ♥️: I would cook for you too! Bojči ♥️: (okay, I would order delivery, but you know...) Kris Guštin sent a photo

He liked to entertain Bojan's idea. He used the rest of the water to wet his lips and he massaged them with his fingers. He captioned the photo with "You'd like to have your fingers in my mouth, wouldn't you?"

Kris Guštin: It's only a suggestion

Kris could only imagine what Bojan's reaction to the photo was...He was taking too long to reply.

Bojči ♥️: This is unfair Kris Guštin: Well, now I gotta go Bojči ♥️: Where???? Kris Guštin: Shower Bojči ♥️: :D Bojči ♥️: Wait for me! Kris Guštin: Alone

Kris got up and picked up one of his winter pajamas and a towel. He took the phone with him to the bathroom.

Bojči ♥️: I'm going to miss you :( Kris Guštin: I'm only going for a shower Bojči ♥️: And you don't even intend to give me an official visualizer!? Kris Guštin: I'm sure the phone would just be ruined if I took it with me for a shower. Bojči ♥️: maybe :/

Kris undressed himself and he decided to open his phone one last time before taking a shower.

He took a photo of himself in the mirror, slightly leaning in on the sink. The photo was able to capture his upper body at its fullest and it was possible to see a bit - and only a bit - of his hip. Just enough to see his almost non-existent tan line, but nothing else.

"Okay, enough of that", he thought.

He finally turned on the hot water and walked into the shower. God, it felt amazing. He was still wondering how he'd have to find new ticket planes...he probably wouldn't be able to make it until after Bojan's birthday, uh. With the holidays and all...

Kris enjoyed taking that shower, not only because he was sick, but because he was dying to see Bojan's reaction. As soon as he finished it, he cleaned his hands and picked up the phone again.

Bojči ♥️ screenshoted the photo Bojči ♥️: I'M SORRY I SCREENSHOT BY ACCIDENT Bojči ♥️: At least the first 2 times Bojči ♥️: But now I get 5 screenshots of you looking lovely Bojči ♥️ sent a video

Kris opened the video. It was Bojan lying in bed.

- Do you see this empty space!? - he pointed to Kris' side of the bed - THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOULD BE AT! I should be nursing you back to health! But! - he raised his finger - Maybe I'll forgive you if you keep sending me messages like these.

Bojči ♥️: how long is this showeeeeeer Bojči ♥️: don't leave me alone for too long :( Bojči ♥️: OMG YOU SAW THE MESSAGES

Kris noticed he reached the end. Damn, he should have waited longer.

Kris Guštin: This really isn't fair, is it? I'm out here posting myself and you are doing God knows what with my pictures. Kris Guštin: What about me though? Bojči ♥️: Fair? Your beauty is unfair! Kris Guštin: -_- Bojči ♥️: Okay, I'm gonna give you what you want ;) Bojči ♥️: And never up. Bojči ♥️: or let you down Bojči ♥️: or turn around and desert you Bojči ♥️ sent a GIF

It was a Rick roll.

Kris Guštin: I was thinking about giving you a visualizer Kris Guštin: now I won't Bojči ♥️ sent a GIF

It was a drawing of a cat mashing on a table.

Bojči ♥️: gimme gimme gimme Bojči ♥️: a man afteeeer midnight! Bojči ♥️: better? Kris Guštin sent a photo

Bojan definitely knew how to persuade him.

Kris sent a picture of him sitting down with the towel barely covering anything - again, only showing just a bit lower than the tan line - but this time the towel he used allowed him to see almost every detail that mattered to Bojan's eyes.

That wasn't the only captive thing about it. Kris took the photo from a high angle, looking up through his eyelids, he had his mouth slightly opened and his skin and hair were still very much wet.

"Official visualizer", he captioned it.

Bojan didn't reply for a while and Kris noticed he had screenshotted it again.

Bojči ♥️: This is not fair... Bojči ♥️: Anything I could send you could never be as good as what you send me Bojči ♥️: I'm okay, it's just that :(... Bojči ♥️: Why are you so perfect? Bojči ♥️: Why are you, even sick, still being so.... Bojči ♥️: iwdjwdbsjjsbs Bojči ♥️: I'm so lucky :( Bojči ♥️: I date the prettiest and most perfect person in the whole wide world! Kris Guštin: that's very sweet of you. Bojči ♥️: but I have some suggestions ;) Kris Guštin: Oh? Enlighten me Bojči ♥️ is calling...

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Idk what to write here...cue fanfiction?

Polaroid Photos Universe | Recommended next: Conspiracy Theories (Alternative Ending)

[secretlywritingstories]

In another life you still would’ve turned my head | phan one shot

Summary: Dan comes across old black and white photos of two queer men messing around, one playing with the other's hair, just like he did in a recent video with Phil. He gets caught up in the emotions that he would have fallen in love with Phil in any universe. He crawls into Phil's lap and tells him exactly that.

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: 2023!phan, established relationship, queer love, couch cuddles

Inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift and Phil’s video on Twitter

Read on AO3 or below

‘Cause I believe we were supposed to find this

So even in a different life

You would still have been mine

We would’ve been timeless

Dan didn’t really scroll tumblr that often anymore, but he opened the tab sometimes when the mood stuck him. The current mood was laptop time after dinner, sitting in their pyjamas in the living room, just existing next to each other, doing their own little thing.

He’s barely scrolled for more than a minute or two when he’d scrolled carelessly past a post but something made him scroll back up and take a second look. He scrolled up and then let his fingers just hover over the mousepad to look at it. It felt like something snagged in his chest, and knocked the air out of his lungs.

It was four photos of four old photos. Four old black and white photos featuring featuring two young men laid out nicely on a table and captured with a phone camera. Not exactly unusual but there was something about the vibes of the photos, how the two men leaned into each other, one holding the other by his hair, and it was so strikingly familiar that it makes something in Dan’s chest ache.

He scrolled down a little more to see the caption and his eyes felt as they tremble as he read.

found these in the attic, it said 1944 on the back. mum said that one of the men was my grandfather’s older brother James. she didn’t know the other man. i don’t know much about James, but i do know that he never married or had children. but it looks like he still had love. seeing these warmed my queer little heart.

Dan clicked to enlarge the photos, and he felt like he wasn’t really breathing as the took the first one in. It looked like the two had been set up for a proper photoshoot but they got distracted. Both were wearing big smiles, grinning at each other like there was no one else in the world.

In the next one, one of them was rolling their eyes in fondness while the other had his head thrown back laughing. Dan felt like he could almost hear it, loud laughter ringing in his own ears.

He clicked onwards, and now one of the guys had stood up and his hands in the other’s hair, it looked like he was gently carding his fingers through the strands. The man still sitting down was looking up at the other man, all of his focus on him, while the other seemed to be talking, not caring that the camera was pointed at them and they probably should have been trying to sit still.

And then the last one. It was arguably the worst of the photos, one of the men mostly blurry because he was actively being shoved off to the side, but it was without a doubt Dan’s favourite of the four. The man might mostly be blurry, but you could still make out a small smile on his lips. The man who’d shoved at him looked so satisfied with himself.

It was radiating love, practically palpable in the air, and Dan felt like he couldn’t breathe without inhaling it. Without it settling in his lungs, heavy and important.

It was not entirely without reason that these photos hit so hard today of all days. He saw something else in photos, something reflected back at him. Just yesterday him and Phil had filmed a video asking for suggestions of what hairstyle Phil should try next.

It had been utterly impulsive and so fun. Phil had just casually mentioned that he wanted to try a new hairstyle, and Dan hadn’t hesitated to involve himself. He cared a whole lot about Phil’s hair after all.

He’d seen it in all of its stages and he would love it in all of its stages, even the crappy square hair from when they were young. Still, he was excited to see Phil switch it up, and try something new. It was hard for Phil to pluck up the courage for it, and therefore Dan knew he needed a gentle shove to actually do something about it.

The video had been just that. Something to hold him accountable, so he would do what he wanted to do.

Phil had grown tired of the quiff, of having to style it and he wanted to try something new. Dan could have helped with research, or they could have talked to their hairdresser, but why not turn to their community when they’d eat up something like this? And the fact that Dan had been in the video, shoving Phil around and messing with his hair had just been a bonus.

It didn’t feel quite as daunting to post something like that anymore. For a while the two of them had distanced themselves from sharing stuff like that, in the years following their coming out. Things were different than before when they were in a glass closet. Before they had said that their relationship was real, even if both of them had been adamant about wanting to keep it private.

This was a tiny peek into their life, a moment captured and shared just because they could.

Just like these two men back in 1944. They’d clearly deemed the photographs important enough to print and keep, even if they seemed to have been left behind in an attic in the end. It was so silly and fun and Dan couldn’t help but agree with the person who’d posted them. It made his heart warm too.

He stayed on the last photo, the blurry shove, and he opened another tab for Twitter to search up Phil and find the video from yesterday. He moved the cursor near the end where he knew he’d given Phil a playful shove.

He pressed play, hearing Phil lift his head from the other end of the sofa at the sound, and Dan watched how in the video a small smile played on Phil’s lips just as he was shoved to the side. Dan clicked back to the other tab and watched the photo again. The identical expressions felt like it hollowed out something inside of him, and then filled him with warmth.

It could have been them. In another life, in another time, that could have been him and Phil. The photos were taken during World War II and two young men found the time to laugh, and play around. If they two of them had met then, Dan was sure that Phil still would have captured his attention.

He’d have dreamed of having a moment like that with him. Just like he loved that they could have moments like this now. After everything they’d been through. After all the talk about soulmates and finding each other in every universe… it had always been kind of a joke with a grain of truth. A part of Dan deep down that wanted to believe Phil in his adamant conviction that they were meant to find each other. Always.

“Dan?” Phil asked, voice softly curious.

Dan knew his face was probably trying to process his complicated feelings. He wasn’t quite sure how to sort them out, how to put all of this into words that made sense. He couldn’t really.

Seeing photos of queer people existing throughout history always got him, but this felt even more poignant when he could see the two of them reflected in the touches and the smiles. The photos could literally have been stills from the video Phil had posted. 79 years apart and yet it felt like the same story.

Dan was projecting, heavily, but he didn’t care. He pushed his laptop away from him, setting it on the table and turned towards Phil, who’d been watching him. There was something curious in Phil’s eyes, and he quirked an eyebrow up in a silent question.

They were so used to communicating with each other, and Phil would probably understand what Dan meant even if he only got a few words out. But right now, it felt like all of the words were stuck in his throat. It wasn’t often that he didn’t have anything to say.

He could run his mouth on practically any topic. He was a chronic rambler but right now, it felt like it had all dried up. How was he meant to explain that he loved Phil so much that he saw the two of them in other people’s past too? In another time, he could imagine that it would have been the them sharing laughter and messing around.

How could he explain that he would have fallen in love with Phil no matter where or when they would have met? And how loving him felt endless and timeless?

Phil put his laptop on the coffee table right next to Dan’s, and Dan hadn’t even realised that he wanted crawl over but he could feel it now, the innate pull to be in Phil’s arms. His body was moving before he’d really decided to do it. It had always been pretty good at navigating itself when it came to Phil.

Phil was like a magnetic field, and it was so very easy to let himself get pulled into it.

The two of them were cuddly and touchy. They’d always been so, even if they had periods where they were more careful because of cameras being around. Still, it wasn’t quite usual for Dan to climb into Phil’s lap and just latch onto him unprompted.

His knees dug into the sofa cushions on either side of Phil, and he buried his face in Phil’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin and thinking whether those two lovers had ever pressed close to each other like this.

Maybe they weren’t queer. Maybe Dan was just reading into it, just like the person who’d posted the photos, but something in his heart sung that love recognised love. There was a reason he saw himself and Phil in those photos.

When he’d been younger, he’d sometimes been mad that he couldn’t quite keep the love out of his eyes when he was around Phil. How it radiated out of the both of them and made them vulnerable to speculation that they hadn’t been ready to face.

That he hadn’t been ready to face.

Everything had been subtext, hidden glances, and then so much love away from prying eyes.

Perhaps the two guys in the photos had never been allowed to be seen for what they were, but it didn’t diminish what Dan could see between them. He was happy that things were different for him and Phil. That they got to exist as themselves. Dan was still working on feeling pride in his identity, but he had no doubt in his love for Phil.

It was the easiest thing in his life.

A given.

Dan Howell breathes, and loves Phil Lester.

Phil’s hands came to rub up and down Dan’s back, and he didn’t complain that he suddenly had most of Dan’s weight just dumped into his lap. He welcomed it, even if Dan was just being emo about a couple of photos.

While he didn’t ask verbally, Dan could hear the questions that Phil didn’t asked. He wondered what had set Dan off like this, even if he would be able to pick up on the fact that it wasn’t really a bad thing. Just emotional.

“Saw some photos,” Dan mumbled against Phil’s neck. “Queers from the 40’s. Goofing around, one playing with the other’s hair.”

The sentences came out fragmented, kind of sharp existing his mouth.

Phil hummed in understanding. “I see.”

Dan knew he did, but now that he was talking, he couldn’t quite stop himself from continuing. It was suddenly very important to him that Phil knew where his head had been at. Dan knew Phil only would be delighted that Dan was seeing them in reflected in other queers through history. He’d have called it fate.

“It could have been us,” Dan said, voice almost a whisper, but he didn’t need to speak very loudly when Phil was this close. When they were touching, embracing and breathing the same air. “I would have loved you even then.”

He meant every word. Even with war and homophobia worse than now, he’d have chosen to fall for Phil. He would have chosen to risk everything and pursue him, just like he’d done in this life when he’d started to reach out as just a fan on Twitter.

More than a decade has passed and yet he could still remember every beat his heart had skipped when he realised that they were becoming something more. When they’d become actual friends, rapidly evolving to best friends, falling in love and deciding that they wanted to share their lives forever.

He thought of all of their different boxes of memories, of how they clung onto all of their history. The story of them.

“Even in another life, you would still have been mine,” Phil agreed, squeezing Dan tighter to his chest. “Can you show me?”

Dan flung his hand in direction of his laptop and felt how Phil shifted both of them forward so that he could pull the laptop closer to take a look. He put it down on the sofa next to them, and Dan heard him click through the photos.

He closed his eyes and relaxed in Phil’s embrace, quite content not to move right now, even if he did want to see Phil’s reaction. He could feel part of it, with their chests pushed together like this, Dan swore he could feel Phil’s heart kick up and go a little faster.

“They’re beautiful,” Phil whispered, earnestly and then because he couldn’t help himself, he added: “Hot too.”

Dan had been so lost in big emotions that he hadn’t expected Phil to say something like that. It startled a laugh out of him, and he almost managed to knock both himself and Phil off the sofa.

“Oi! You’ve got your own hot guy right here!” Dan protested, voice light and airy as he continued to laugh between his words. He put more of his weight onto Phil like he could crush him. Remind himself that he got to be with Phil like this. All tangled up in each other.

He didn’t actually care that Phil found other men attractive. Phil seemed to have a pendant for running into hot men everywhere, and Dan mostly found it ridiculously funny how Phil malfunctioned around them. For fun, he would play up his jealousy or poke fun at Phil with it.

He knew that the love they shared, and how their attraction to each other was much deeper than just physical hotness. Dan knew that Phil would always come back home to him, no matter how many super attractive dudes he might encounter. 

“I do,” Phil said, moving to squeeze Dan’s ass unabashedly.

Dan opened his mouth to chastise Phil for fun, but he couldn’t get a word out before his lips were captured in a kiss. He could have pulled away to continue the banter, but he found that he’d much rather melt into the kiss.

Get lost in his timeless love with the one man that he’d search low and high for in any world and in any time. He knew that love would always mean leaning into Phil’s side and getting lost in his eyes.

It was joking around after Dan got emotional about old queers that could have been them. It was knowing exactly how to kiss each other after all of these years. It was how they would always choose each other.

Before meeting Phil, Dan had dared to dream of love and romance, but he could never have imagined what they’d find together. They always had a whole hoard of cardboard boxes with memories, and the collection would only grow and grow. 

Dan couldn’t imagine a life where he wouldn’t find Phil. They were going to be timeless. He was sure of it.

[thegoddessprose]

After all my yapping about Chiasa and Plutarch, I thought I'd finally put my money where my mouth is and post a fic. This is something I wrote a little while ago, albeit with a few edits. It's a 5+1 rather than a sophisticated backstory (That might come later, once my Tigris fic on AO3 is at least on hiatus), but I'm hoping it'll give a little more insight than the memes :p

Yes, @plutarchheavensbee you can share, I did promise

Without further ado, enjoy

TW: References to past substance abuse, victor prostitution, grief, slightly NSFW but nothing graphic

Five Things That Fascinated Plutarch about Chiasa and One Thing That Made Him Realize He Loved Her.

1. Her Eyes

Simple decorum had forced Plutarch to learn that Chiasa's eyes were a nice shade of icy blue and not much else. They say that eyes are the window to the soul, but he initially didn't bother looking in. His initial impression of her was pretty and overall harmless, but nothing else, and that remained for years.

That was, until this past yuletide night, when he'd taken it upon himself to smuggle a fellow rebel and refugee to the edge of the Capitol. Of course she'd be at the party that acted as the rendezvous point; Chiasa's beloved nephew, Marcus, who also happened to be his protégé played the host. What he didn't expect was her rolling up her sleeves to help, offering to use her fashion know-how to disguise refugees. He certainly didn't expect to have Fulvia poke her head into his office the next day to say Chiasa was on the line and seemed troubled. He most definitely didn't expect for her to break down in his home the next day, revealing decades of pent-up anger toward the Capitol and guilt for only reaching out now. Obviously, there was a lot more to the woman than he initially thought.

He'd invited her again two days later for a more lighthearted visit, simply wanting to know how much he was wrong about... Of course, he had to study up, remember what he'd initially noted and compare notes. Tigris was friends with her and had often said she took a lot after her father (Thankfully...) While Plutarch had never met the late Senator Lapin personally before he was assassinated, there was a lot of information on him in the rebel archives; photos, footage, speeches, letters to Tigris, anything he needed. Her father's eyes were the same shade of blue and his gaze was admittedly disarming, but without a lot of spark. He'd heard it was because he wasn't as bright, but Tigris loved to wistfully say that the kindness in his eyes was real, a rarity for a Capitolite.

Chiasa's mother was a different story... Plutarch knew Seiko better as his predecessor and mentor. She was a cold and calculating woman, and her eyes reflected that well. Dark brown, almost black, like voids, he recalled. On a good day, he remembered seeing little sparks of determination. On a bad day, they resembled black holes; icy pools of nothing sucking out the soul of any poor sap that pissed her off... Occasionally, he was said poor sap.

Chiasa was both distinct and similar to her parents. Through the glassiness during their last meeting, he saw a familiar darkness when she expressed her anger; a supernova rather than a black hole, but he was somewhat frightened nonetheless. Today, with a better view, he saw the warmth and kindness of her father. Yet... There was a certain weatheredness about her, one he'd seen among his elders and even in his own mirror. Sure, she'd taken a couple of decades off her appearance, but there was no doubt of her true age in her eyes. It was clear she'd seen so much, so many historical events, so much pain and suffering that she felt powerless to stop.

"Plutarch?" she asked, snapping him out of his analysis.

"Yes?"

"You'd said I'd be able to stay for dinner, right? I really like talking with you," she said.

For once, he had nothing going on. It had been a while since he'd dined with anyone outside of obligation. A lot of his real friends were dead, busy, in hiding, or outside of the Capitol.

"I did say that..." he replied, "And the feeling is mutual."

Her eyes lit up at his acceptance and just like that, she'd shed about twenty years off her lifetime. While Chiasa was known in a lot of circles to be the life of the party, he couldn't remember if he'd seen this kind of pure joy from her. Maybe he should be flattered that he evoked such a feeling out of her. He certainly felt the heat rising in his cheeks at the thought, and all hope of her not notcing was shattered by her rather melodic giggle.

"Why Plutarch, you're awfully cute when you blush," she complimented.

As if that wouldn't make him blush even more...

2. Her Confidence

Most people who knew of Chiasa Lapin knew she had a bit of a... reputation. Sadly, that was par for the course for women like her who never married and just dated around. Plutarch should have expected certain things out of her, but he was quickly reminded that hearing about something and actually experiencing it were two different things.

As much as he liked planning for all possibilities, Plutarch didn't expect her invitation to her New Year's Eve party would end with them kissing in her room away from the masses. Neither of them had that much to drink, nor were they lightweights. She knew exactly what she wanted when she proposed the reigning in tradition. He wasn't sure what possessed him to accept sp easily; perhaps it was how she looked in that handmade red floral kimono and her dark hair elegantly pinned up, as if she stepped out of an ancient painting. Maybe it was scientific curiosity. It was logical to assume with all her experience, she had to be good. For the record, she was... Not a lot of kisses in his lifetime had him still thinking about her and longing for days.

Then again, perhaps it was how she wasn't afraid to go for what she wanted. The meeker ladies weren't really Plutarch's taste, agreeing with him rather than standing by what they wanted, he wanted substance. Chiasa had quickly proven not to be like them. During their second kiss, he'd felt her try to climb onto his lap. Maybe they could have taken things further if her harpy of a sister didn't knock and interrupt. Even when he left, she wished him sweet dreams of all thing. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, how frustrated he'd be that night.

It was cunning of her to offer to make him something, that way, he didn't need to come up with any excuses for her to come over again, or shoo away rumor mongers. Although... she'd outright admitted she'd wanted to spend more time with him. Her subtlety needed work... Although that could have just been more of her confidence shining through, as it certainly did when she finally visited again.

When working with a new designer, measurements were an early order of business. Chiasa opted for an old fashioned measuring tape for a more intimate experience. He sure was wise to the lingering touches on his waist, chest, and arms as well as her warm breath on the back of his neck. He was a gentleman... He couldn't bring himself to have his way with her immediately. That mini skirt and plunging red top didn't help things either...

If her mother was alive, she would have gutted him for thinking like this about her "ignorant" daughter... But Seiko wasn't here, nor did she have power over him anymore. She'd be absolutely furious at how he'd laid a hand on Chiasa and not be able to do anything about it... And there was that scientific curiosity once again. It wasn't just her kissing skills that had Chiasa infamous... He just had to know what was fact or fiction.

It was still up to Chiasa in the end, and thankfully, she caught the smirk forming on his face as she faced him.

"You know, Plutarch..." she purred, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"What a coincidence," he couldn't help but tease as he ran a hand through her hair, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either."

She leaned in closer and smirked back at him.

"Really now.... I've been thinking about what could have been... What could have happened if we weren't so rudely interrupted, just wondering a few things, " she whispered, "Would we have stayed as we were? Or would you have been on top of me? Would we want to savor each other, really explore each other, or would you want it fast and rough? Would you use that beautiful voice to moan, growl... Both?"

She brushed her lips against his neck and he managed to stifle a moan. Damn was she brazen... He felt his own hand moving down her back, but he stopped himself at her waist.

"No need to stop..." she encouraged, "You've helped me so much over the past few days... But you seem so stressed and lonely too. Trust me... I know a lot of ways to soothe a man... I always thought you were attractive, but being a rebel... Well, that's even hotter."

Plutarch had to admit, it was refreshing to hear an authority on beauty praise his "natural" appearance over the eldrich enhancements of the Capitol masses. He was right where he wanted... This fascinating woman in his arms, one that would make his late mentor scream up at him from hell, one that was practically begging him to take her and make her his... Wait.

"I have been looking for some relief, and company..." he replied, "But you should know, I don't have the time or space for a long term commitment right now."

Chiasa held back a laugh and teasingly pecked his lips. "Who said anything about commitment? I just want to have a little fun..."

"Well... Fun is my job, after all."

There. A bullshit free proposition, just as he liked them, and a hallmark of mature women like her. Yet at the same time, she didn't dress her age, nor look it, nor certain screw like a woman her age. She certainly had nothing to be ashamed of when she'd draped herself on her side to face them after they'd finished. Having spent her youthful years in the 20s ADD, it wasn't hard to imagine her taking a puff from a cigarette or joint to recover. That satisfaction and fire in her eyes, however, was all reality.

"Well, well... You've been holding out on me, Heavensbee," she purred.

Plutarch really shouldn't have blushed again, certainly not after what just transpired, but was it ever worth it to hear that giggle again. Chiasa was right all along, he did feel more relaxed than he ever had the past few months.

"Aww, you have nothing to be embarrassed about... Believe me," she added, reaching over to stroke his arm.

"It's been a while..." he admitted, "I forgot what this felt like."

"You'd have to have been busy," she concluded, "I'm surprised more people aren't throwing themselves at you... I'm definitely here for a good time, and we've established I have no concealed weapons, or wires... You were very thorough in your search."

Ugh, a line taken straight from his dreams.

"We have to do this again sometime," he replied with a smirk.

They came up with a certain arrangement; Chiasa would get a burner so they could communicate undetected, no feelings or other complications neither had time for, they'd fool around and talk to sate each other's stress and loneliness. Simple enough... Both had similar arrangements with others in the past without issues. It should have been that simple...

3. Her Stories

Plutarch was a known history buff; even when he was simply Seiko’s right hand man, one of his favorite duties was curation. The rebel archive had more banned documents, pictures, films, and stories than the secret government archive could hope for. He could spend hours just reading and watching the past.

The only thing better than studying was talking to real people about their experiences. The Capitol's history books were to be taken with a grain of salt, being mostly propaganda. Many of Plutarch's elders were amused by his curiosity about the past, but were nonetheless happy to share a few tales, and Chiasa, being a fair bit older than him, was no exception.

Maybe it was a little different... She was certainly the first to lounge on his bed in a negligee at most while sipping coffee or giving him a scalp massage while telling him stories. Even though she was younger than the likes of Tigris and Seiko, she brought a unique perspective of the ineffable postwar Dark Days. She spoke of her beloved father's service, and confirmed Tigris's assurances that Seiko was a different person back then, and before her sister became such an insufferable gossip. There was one story in particular that made him chuckle, one that involved one of his more insufferable relatives...

"So... You kicked him?" he confirmed, "You kicked Uncle Hilarius in the shin?"

"I was only a kid," she defended, "And he was sure Lucy Gray wouldn't survive because she was a small girl... Emphasis on the girl part. My parents agreed with me that he should have kept his mouth shut, but I still had to be punished..."

"Well... Knowing him, he probably deserved it," he said.

What a time to be alive in that controversial year, and still have the wonder of childhood. What an opportunity to hear about it... Tigris and Seiko had a more mature perspective, and it was impossible to get anything out of President Snow.

As time went on, Chiasa's stories became more vulnerable, and Plutarch remembered an important life lesson. Growing up patrician and joining the rebels had taught him that not everything was as it seemed. During her early years as a stylist, that "mental breakdown" was actually a stint in rehab to kick a party drug habit. She'd started using to cope with her guilt regarding her tributes, but had been encouraged to get help when she found out she was pregnant with her first child. Thankfully, she'd been clean for a long time, but still carried little candies in her purse in case she ever got the urge again.

Another of her stories was the real paternity of her second child, her son. It was a closely guarded secret, and Plutarch felt a sense of pride that she trusted him this much. It was one of her victors, Link Zhou, a now older man from District 3. Plutarch recalled him as one of the first male victors to be sold, and she couldn't even look him in the eye when she told him the story. Chiasa was Link's stylist, and her relief at a living tribute faded when she found out what they were going to do to him. She'd bid to be his first and it was all kosher; Link had a crush on her and he was of age, yet she still felt like she'd violated him. She felt she couldn't give up her son in any way, and thankfully her reputation with men saved them all from any suspicion.

He heard her sobbing as she'd finished, still facing away from him. He turned her, and her tears and pained expression broke his heart... She would have made a damn good agent if she'd joined up. When it came to her addiction, she was regretful, but matter of fact. Now, however, she was ashamed to even exist.

"I... I thought you'd be disgusted with me," she whispered.

He found himself wiping her tears away and wrapped her in an embrace.

"No... You did what you thought was right for the both of them, even if the law said otherwise. That's very noble," he said, "Hell, I think it would be rich of me of all people to judge you for doing something you regret for the greater good."

It was true... There were certain aspects of his plans that he didn't take pleasure in, but nonetheless, they had to be considered and done. His personal feelings often didn't matter.

Speaking of feelings... He couldn't let go of her that night. Chiasa's ceasing her crying and easing herself so quickly in his arms had him feeling some type of way... Like important? Like a hero? When he'd initially guessed that her son's father was some abusive asshole, he was ready to ruin that hypothetical man's life in a second. Protecting her used to be a simple means to an end; to avoid a needless casualty at his expense, and for Marcus's sake... He wouldn't be too happy with his beloved aunt in danger. Now, though... the thought of Chiasa being hurt or in distress caused Plutarch real pain. She didn't deserve that... Logically, she'd been through too much.

"Plutarch... Thank you," she murmured, "You're really, truly... such a wonderful man..."

Damn... He was used to being compliments on his achievements, but coming from her... He didn't know his heart was capable of swelling like that. It had to be because she meant it instead of just trying to kiss his ass... It had to be.

4. Her Wisdom

Naturally, Plutarch was a thinker. People had described him as brilliant, and they'd be right. Chiasa might not have been an intellectual like him, but she was so much more than Seiko and the general public made her out to be. Then again, if anyone reached her age or had her experiences without learning a thing, they'd be an idiot. She was so much more stimulating than the average Capitolite, and not just in the physical way.

One day, as Chiasa placed her hand over his, Plutarch couldn't help but notice her nails. They were red and gold, as the current trends, but the gold designs were inconsistent. Actually, he could have sworn that they were simply red and chipped the last time they were together, and the gold seemed to fill in the gaps.

"Didn't take you for a hand guy, Plutarch," she teased.

"No, I'm just curious about these... Is this some kind of abstract art?"

She smiled sheepishly, then moved her gaze to their now entwined hands.

"Are you familiar with the practice of kintsugi?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied, "Your mother taught me a few words of your old tongue, but I'm not familiar with that one."

"Well... It's the practice of repairing ceramics with gold," she explained, "I like to think of it as a metaphor... We all have flaws, we've all known hard times, but they make us all the more beautiful."

How true... The cookie cutter perfection the Capitol pushed was unattainable, and people who thought they achieved it were liars or at least still highly flawed. Actually, it worked for Panem as a whole. The Districts were beautiful in their adversity and strength. Then there was Chiasa, who persevered through her rough patches, making her into the woman he... was fascinated by.

"Sounds like someone I know," he teased, squeezing her hand.

"I guess..." she replied, blushing a little, "It's always been comforting to me. With everything going on, it was a reminder that I'd come back better. I drew and painted with it as an inspiration. When Daddy died, my first collection afterward was centered around it. Hell, I considered a tattoo a few times, but then I'd have to coordinate outfits around it.

What an interesting idea... Although she was beautiful as she was, it would sure make a statement, even as something temporary, even just makeup. There weren't a lot of visible scars on her body for him to trace; most of them were in her mind. Good enough....

He kissed her forehead and murmured, "In all seriousness, that's a beautiful way of thinking."

Chiasa shut her eyes and let out a contented sigh. However, she wasn't quite done philosophizing yet. She let go of his hand and cupped his face, flashing an alluring, yet sincere smile.

"Plutarch, have I ever told you why I think you're handsome?"

Maybe she'd said a few things in the moment, but it was always hard to tell if anything stuck in that state.

"Because you look like a person," she said, "A real person, not anything they're trying to sell. That boyish grin of yours, your salt and paprika hair... All you, all beautiful."

She paused to rest her forehead against his, evoking said grin until she went in for a brief kiss before continuing.

"Maybe I'm a hypocrite... It's not purely genes that have me looking and thriving this way. But... I don't know. Maybe it's a reflection of you as a person. You're not trying so hard to fit in, you're unapologetic and comfortable in your own skin without being obnoxious about it. I love seeing that in people... Especially men."

She was simply stating a fact. Women like her didn't have time for insecure man-children. She still had a way of complimenting him that caught him off guard. He simply wasn't used to a beautiful woman gushing about how attractive his quiet confidence and idealism were.

"Chiasa, that's... very observant, very kind," he managed.

She giggled. "Well, okay, maybe there are some shallow things too... Everyone knows bigger guys like you are better to lay with... And just better in bed altogether. And I just love freckles... I'm going to sound so cliche, but they're like little stars that just happen to adorn people instead of the sky."

She proceeded to pepper kisses across his cheeks and nose before moving to his chin and jaw, then down his neck.

"Chiasa... What are you doing?"

"I want to kiss all your freckles..."

"Well... It's a good thing we have all night."

The experience was strangely intimate and vulnerable, despite them being familiar with each other by then. Maybe it was how it all tied in... How something perceived as a flaw made him all the more beautiful.

5. Her Joie de Vivre

Idealism was Plutarch's, well, ideal, but cynicism was reality. With all the good he wanted to do, he still lost people, things still went wrong, and sometimes, it was hard to even find joy in the little things. While Chiasa was a cynic in her own way, it was a survival mechanism more than anything. Still, she was so much better at living in the moment. It was all she could do to cope with the world.

The Groundbreaking used to be a patriotic occasion to celebrate the powering of a new arena. Nowadays, it was Gamemaker Mardi Gras; one last day of letting loose before getting to work. Admittedly, he'd always wanted to throw the themed party, an honor reserved for the Head Gamemaker, and "Retro" made sense with the rise of rationing. At least his older colleagues were excited... As was Chiasa. She'd recycled an old, very sheer dress from the second Quarter Quell and adorned herself in glitter as they'd done in the twenties. She was teasing him on purpose...

It wasn't until after the bash that the real fun began. As fun as hosting was at times, it could be exhausting... The leftover confetti and empty glasses almost looked depressing in the blacklight until he felt Chiasa's hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, she ran her hands down his lapels... Of course he couldn't resist wearing her special creation: a jacket decorated in a forties style brocade pattern with extra pockets, simply to be thoughtful. Normally, they were gold to fit the current trends, but she used a special dye to make the patterns appear his favorite shade of purple under blacklight.

"You're looking gorgeous tonight," she purred, "If I do say so myself."

He was quick to pull her into an embrace. "And what were you thinking with that dress... What was your plan? To torture me with our dirty little secret? Having all those other men vying for a dance or drink or more?

"Too bad for them, it was always going to be you at the end of the night," she said, kissing his neck, "Actually... We never had a proper dance, did we? At least now... We don't have to be so formal with each other."

As much as it staved off suspicion, one dance couldn't hurt. Now was a better setting than the party anyway. He started to get in position for a waltz before she stopped him.

"I told you we don't have to be formal, sweetie... That's what a waltz is. I've always enjoyed the rhumba... Less stiff, more sensual."

"I haven't done that since my twenties," he replied sheepishly, "And even then I wasn't that good."

"Aww, that's okay," she reassured him, "It's just us right now. Besides... I know what those hips are capable of... I'm sure if you put your mind to it, you can."

Plutarch was still awful, but it didn't seem to matter to Chiasa. She matched his exaggerated moves and they were soon laughing together. How he needed this, how wonderful life seemed when she was with him... When he easily dipped her and they met in a kiss before heading to his bedroom.

District 13, while a refuge, was a dreary place. No color, no fun, no culture... No Chiasa. Not that he was demotivated, in fact, quelling her worries and tears only gave him more reason to work toward a free Panem. It didn't make him miss her any less, and regret less about not fighting harder to take her with him.

"You know what I miss the most?" he'd said to Katniss one day.

He recalled one lazy, stormy morning, when Chiasa was able to stay for breakfast. It was nothing fancy; eggs over easy for him, poached for her, and toast and coffee for both. Chiasa was in a silk nightgown and curled up on his lap, while he was in a robe that used to gather dust as well as the glasses he barely wore in public. They were simply enjoying each other's company and watching the storm unfold.

Chiasa gasped as a bolt of lightning struck a building in the distance. "It's amazing how something so destructive, dangerous, powerful... can be so beautiful."

"That's just nature, Chiasa," he said, "Believe me, I know a lot about it..."

It would be even more beautiful when it signaled the start of the revolution... Maybe she'd always remember it that way.

"Yes, and how the rain can cause so many problems, but gives life, and makes a lovely sound," she said, "And that smell after a storm..."

"Petrichor."

"Oooh... I didn't know there was a word for it."

He snuck a look at her as she watched the storm go on. Why was she so damned beautiful when she was fascinated... Somehow, she'd grown even more attractive since their initial meeting. Perhaps it was her words, her artist's or wise mind.

"What?" she teased.

Plutarch was saved by a loud clap of thunder that had the pair clinging to each other.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," he said.

"I'M protecting YOU," she teased.

They met for a kiss. They had coffee breath, but it didn't matter.... It made the moment feel real.

"Plutarch?" Katniss interrupted, "What did you miss?"

Right, Plutarch was still in District 13, and he'd forgotten that Katniss and Marcus were in the room with him. He couldn't tell the truth in front of him... Not while they were stuck together in a bunker anyway.

"Coffee," Plutarch half lied.

Katniss seemed to believe him, but Marcus was skeptical as they both left for the next item on their schedule.

"No, really, what do you miss?" the boy asked, "Nobody's wistful about coffee in the afternoon."

"Let's get back to work, shall we?" Plutarch deflected.

Marcus rolled his eyes, but didn't ask any more. However, though, he seemed to try to elicit something out of him.

"If it matters, I miss my auntie," he said, "Even if the lack of color would have given her a stroke."

Plutarch nodded, seemingly in acknowledgement, but actually in agreement. Chiasa would have found a way to brighten things up. He knew very well the real reason he missed her....

1. Her Kindness

True kindness was a rarity in the Capitol. Nobody was ever just "nice," they always had to want something. Many were simply fair weather, disappearing the moment life got tough. Only a handful of people he knew were kind, many of him his allies... Others just naive. Then there was Chiasa, who was neither an active rebel nor naive about the world.

It should have been a simple arrangement... Chiasa didn't outright say she wanted more, and she was the type to do so. It was nearly summer when he admitted it to himself, and he needed to seek advice from the one person who'd understand and not tease him, Tigris.

He'd kept her filled in on how things were going, as she was a mutual friend and Chiasa would be saved the trouble of coming up with a lie. But now, he told her the whole story, and she only sighed and shook her head with a smile.

"It gets you, that kind of heart," said Tigris, "I know... When you've lived a life full of expectations and without love, that one person who shows you compassion, thinks you're a person worth knowing and loving. You know... Her father was the same way."

That was why Tigris was the best person to ask... She'd had a secret relationship with Tak Lapin before he was killed, that Seiko had allowed. Tigris was right... Every step of the way, Chiasa wanted to know him, and allowed herself to be vulnerable... Allowed him to be vulnerable.

When Plutarch was feeling the loss of an old friend, and couldn't contain himself any longer, she let him have a rare cry on her shoulder, no ridicule, no begging him to be strong. He was another human to her, another person to cherish and comfort. He remembered asking her why she showed him such unconditional care. It was only right, she'd said, that she cared about him.

The night of the interviews was their last opportunity to be together, and the chaos that Peeta caused with his "baby bomb" only helped her sneak over. Unfortunately, one final preparation had gone awry, and after getting socked in the jaw, he had to hunker down. Some of his other agents agreed to fix it, but he was feeling the weight of the pain... And the guilt of having to leave Chiasa behind.

The minute he'd shown himself, she ordered the remaining avox to fetch some ice and vinegar. The next thing he knew, he was on a sofa with her pressing ice against his jaw.

"Don't clench, you'll make it worse," she admonished, "What happened?"

"Mishap," he reassured her, "It'll be fixed.... You're still here."

"Of course I'm still here.... Do you not want me here?" she hesitantly asked.

"No, of course I want you here," he replied, "I'm... ah... I'm just wondering why you're still here... I'm leaving you, Chiasa, I can't believe you agreed."

"Oh, Plutarch...."

She embraced him with her free arm, sniffling, but trying to keep her composure.

"I know it's for a good cause... I know this is bigger than us, I.... I really admire you for this," she managed.

"I wish you could come with me..." he murmured, "I know you can help... I wish I could be sure you won't be in danger."

"I'm tougher than I look, honey... And I never blamed you, never ever. Oh, Plutarch... Just promise me you'll come back in one piece. You know I'll be right here...."

They sat in silence, just holding each other for what seemed like eternity. When he saw her face again, he thought he saw a few tear streaks down her made up face, but she quickly wiped them away.

"If you want to just hold each other tonight, that's okay..."

"No, Chiasa.... I don't know how long I'll be gone," he murmured, "I need to commit you to memory."

Even with his bruised jaw, that last night mind-blowing, both wanting to forget it would be the last... for a while if things went right. The next morning was pure agony; they'd stared at each other, almost daring each other to drop the L-bomb, but neither could. It didn't seem like the right time.... He was a damned idiot, it could have been another regret.

While Plutarch was kept busy and motivated, there were times when he'd miss her the most. The nights were the loneliest, when he'd wish for her to be waiting in his compartment, even just her reassuring voice. Then there was Finnick and Annie's wedding, when love was in the air. He'd gotten into it like most projects, but it felt different... Maybe he was projecting a little... But at least it made him surprisingly helpful with the vows. He had to focus during the final battle... It was crucial in capturing the Capitol, but he couldn't dare look to see if Chiasa was among the panicked masses.

The day of the execution was cathartic for everyone... Even though Coin was initially killed first. What did it matter, she was bad for the rest of Panem and he had a plan to get rid of her if Katniss hadn't taken action. Snow was finally dead, of course, and the era of suffering was over... Yes, there was still a lot of work to be done, but the people deserved to have their hope.

Of course, it was also the day he finally saw Chiasa again, on the steps of the presidential palace with Marcus. He'd certainly be in for a surprise, but he'd adjust... Plutarch did have a soft spot for the kid.

Within seconds, she was back in his arms. It didn't matter that there was more gray and silver in her hair than he remembered, and she was dressed down, he was just happy to be with her again. As was she, and from her very first words to him, he knew she had the same regrets.

"Plutarch… I love you!"

He wouldn't be an idiot this time.

"I love you too, Chiasa," he said, holding her tightly.

The future was bright… The revolution was successful, freedom was within reach, and he was finally going to shape a new world with her by his side. So it went… He didn't need to remain a confirmed bachelor to change the world; in his studies, most of the greats had their greatest loves by their side, and he would be no different. George had Martha. John had Abigail. James had Dolley. Winston had Clementine. Now, Plutarch had Chiasa.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

Welcome To the Playground (Arcane Rewatch Sunday)

| Episode 1 |

This post involves spoilers to the episode and is entirely my commentary on watching it!!

To start this rewatch off we meet the first episode. The one that sets the stage of what's to come, and damn IS this an episode. I lied abit about watching this for the second time because I have seen this episode one twice. More so one scene being prominate but I didn't give enough of my attention to the opening scene.

Here we see the sisters. (A lot of these screenshots I took are of them being together because they actually make me want to SOB and throw myself onto the floor in shambles.)

Powder's song is almost haunting in a way, as we see moments later of Vander and the total fucking destruction (which I didn't remember this scene all that great so holy shit this was such an interesting way to set the stage and tone of things.)

Another photo of the sisters because like above. They make me want to sob. VI LOOKS SO BROKEN TOO. PLEASE SOMEONE GIVE HER A HUG FFS.

I really really appreciate the color. The way everything is shaded and just too, the way things are-- Vander. I'm guessing this is how they met and he took them in?? I'd assume. Might have missed some kind of subtext but it definitely is an emotional look combined with the utter emotion behind both of them. Too with Powder's singing.

AND HERE WE ARE! This scene I have the most familiarity with. I really do like how everything is colored as well. Mylo and Claggor alongside them <- I did not memorize their names before EITHER WHICH IS WRONG. They do seem like cool characters, but LOOK AT THIS SHOT. Topside really be having EVERYTHING.

I was going to entre a joke here about Powder almost falling off the building and Vi grabbing her arm and show a picture of Catadora from princess prom to say something but I forgot the punchline and I didn't take it. Not the same energy either, but my brain was trying to think up a silly joke.

I had to take a screenshot of the Kiramman place-thingy. It's so funny- I missed that detail last time. Imagine robbing the girl's families' place that's going to be your love interest. CANT RELATE LOL. But hey!! I thought it was really funny Mylo commenting about them locking their balcony alongside Vi just kicking the fucking door open. SUCH A SLAY move. We love, we stan!!!!

(Also to note, its such a cool frame to just pause and look at in finer detail. It's got so much stuff to look at. I know I didn't take more shots of Powder with the orb ball thing, but I really thought everything in the place was super unique and even through them robbing the place it was fascinating the part where Powder finds the sandwich and just ate ONE BITE of it and going oooo what's this thing. I CAN'T. Girl eat more of the sandwich, you're leaving too much behind!!!! AT LEAST TAKE IT WITH YOU.)

"That's a nose hair trimmer." <- I love you Powder.

I would say never change but uh... UH... ANYWAY.

The orb fucking EXPLODED. CRAZY.

Guess your clear Powder. Don't think they're gonna find that sandwich now. But I don't think that's.... leaving no traces.

I mean you left that building without a trace, sure... but like... where's the building???

(btw yeah I was watching with captions on. It helps with my comprehension of what I'm watching. I'm not gonna ramble about it NOW but damn people should not hate so hard on people who watch stuff with captions on.)

Mylo commenting about his new shirt and getting cut off by Vi kicking him down was so goofy. If you KNOW. But too-- This color pallet. I know I keep saying that but even the topside shitty parts are pretty. TOPSIDE REALLY BE HAVIN EVERYTHING.

UGH GOD I HATE THIS PART BECAUSE THEY WERE DOING SO GOOD. Mylo is such a stupid idiot. More of the sisters because I can't. I actually can't. Someone's gonna skin me if I say that when I first saw Powder I thought of 2-D from Gorillaz. It's the blue hair okay. I DON'T EVEN LISTEN TO THEM. Derailing this episode mb.

All this violence and then its Powder. I got so frustrated when they started chasing her with the stuff too. Was truly rooting for her. Every time I see the scene too I always wish she succeed.

SHE LOOKS SO FUCKING BADASS. LOVE HER. Love the buzzed fade thing so MUCH. The hair. It's everything. SHE is everything.

I always want her to win. I always do. She deserved so much better than how they treated her. Her inventions, she truly was so misunderstood. Never given a chance and written off. I really liked the writing but like holy fuck it was so infuriating because you just want the best for her with all that's happening. You want her to win...

He said it. He said the thing.

He should fuck off and die but HE SAID THE THING.

I cut out most of the part where we saw The Last Drop and Vander talking to those people about negotiating things. Dunno what to comment about that whole segment but Vander coming to chew out Vi once they all came back. I think the whole part where he coaches her about being a leader was a good message. About how she needs to be less reckless and more strategic because people look up to her- Especially Powder. And then not only that, but their health is also in her hands if she is being reckless.

Vander asking if she put that guy on his ass after chewing her out is such an Eda moment but also such a good parent moment. I love when we have that be a trope(?) with fictional parents. Chew the shit out of your kid and then be like "but you still kicked their ass, right?" Slay shit right there.

Ekko. I NOTICED THE FUCKING DETAIL ABOUT "LITTLE MAN."

HE GAVE THEM THE INFO. I DIDN'T NOTICE THAT LAST TIME OMFG. It's all coming together. The air fighting 💀.

More of the sisters because they deserve better. Vi being supportive of Powders inventions. It all makes me emotionally unstable /pos.

MORE OF THE SISTERS. PLEASE I NEED YOU TO KNOW I LOVE THEM. This moment. I can't. I can't. I can't.

The orb.

I am giving you screenshots of the sisters and I am not sorry.

Then there's this. The way the scene ended. I'm not sure how else to comment on it all but I really wanted to insert this photo because its such a nice shot of the lanes and then them in scale of it all. Kinda symbolic to an extent. (I hope I got that right? Undercity verses The Lanes was confusing me on the difference.)

I'm so mad about that cat.

But Silco.

We see him.

We still hate him though.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Anyway ahhh THIS EPISODE WAS SO GOOD. Sorry if I seemed dry at all in any of my parts. It's like- I dunno what else to say at times but I really really enjoyed it. I think seeing this show again is going to really inspire me in more ways than just "ooo show" but it's just SUCH a neat looking world. World building is such an important aspect of stories to me, it needs to have a good and interesting world for me to feel a good hard urge to invest into the content.

One of the reasons why I fell in love with TOH so hard was BECAUSE of its world. (among other things *cough cough* wlw)

The world is such a important piece in storytelling. Characters too, and sometimes they matter more because they can fall flat if they aren't written good. But everything that goes into the world is such an engaging thing.

With this episode it didn't feel like- Boring or anything at all. (I have a short attention span at times and sometimes my mind will just be like "ughhhh") WHICH IS AWESOME. These episodes are literally 45 minutes so like wtf. If a show can do that shit- Damn dude they're cooking SO hard.

I'm not even a LoL fan or like knowing of that lore, and I'm sure knowing of that stuff would make things even more interesting with lore (am a SUCKER for lore too) but even as it stands it's such an Indepth show. (I mean that as in it's not kid-ish. THERES MEAT TO IT.)

I'm so ready for episode two!!!

UNTIL NEXT SUNDAY!!

[woodsdyke]

I love the way you use color in your art!!! Could you talk a little bit about the aesthetic choices you make wrt color and why? Your style is so distinctive, I’m curious if that through-line between your work is just a personal preference or part of something larger in your work?

first of all, thank you so much!!

i love talking about color so this post might be kinda hefty

gonna talk specifically about how my art's been in the past three years - the subjects and styles i use have changed quite a bit lately.

i love a lot of classical art and early century works (mainly art nouveau - think mucha, privat-livemont) and a lot of color work i do comes from that. recently i've gotten into baroque/rococo which has some fascinating colors to work with and kind of... tweak as a digital artist with Every Color available to me. most of the characters i draw are some form of historical (jazz age, 18th century, 19th century cowboy stuff) and taking inspo from the art of those times i think really lends something to the work i do

my favorite 19th-20th century art relies on a lot of warm jewel tones. i try to capture some sense of nostalgia

for my landscape work - i'm a hiker and always have been, i Love The Woods. i grew up in appalachia and then moved to colorado, and without any sort of changes or tweaks, the colors of nature are SO vibrant.

these are based on photographs and just Looked Like That. i also enjoy taking colors from my landscape work and using it for other things - it's already in nature, so the palettes just naturally complement each other

and sometimes i just like to go off the walls. even still, these colors are based off Shit I Saw - first one is from when i was walking in my neighborhood at dusk and took some photos of an abandoned laundromat. second is when i was in the mountains when there were wildfires in the distance and the whole sky turned gray and pink and the sun was bright red. last one from seeing the utah desert right before the sun sets

so tl;dr all of the colors i use draw inspiration from Something I Saw once; the time i an artemisia gentileschi painting in person. some cool clouds during a really cool hike. some neon lights from a bar making the snow look bright pink. there's a lot of merit in really paying to what's around you, and i think it helps convey the sort of nostalgia or familiarity i try to present, even if the subject itself isn't familiar at all

ANYWAY that was probably more than u wanted but i have many thoughts

[mrthoughtbubbles]

Hi Yeet,

I saw your post last night and it’s warms my heart to see that you’ve made a lot of memories with your family. The stuffed toy that your mother would like to bring home looks like a soot sprite from Spirited Away, but that one’s a pink version. I find those sprites really cute, just like the Wara-Wara from the boy and the heron, which is also a Ghibli film. One can assume that I like Ghibli films. I also joke around and add y at the end of the word, Wara, and say it’s Waray-Waray, which is an ethnolinguistic group under the Bisaya people, that occupies Samar, where my parents came from, and I know a little bit of Waray as well. The hats you wore all look cute and I was wondering if you wore the Capybara one. I find Capybaras to be awesome because they’re friendly with every animal. They’re even chill when they’re surrounded by alligators/crocodiles. It’s nice to see everyone in your family photos to be happy and smiling. As for the pineapple tart, did you find the best pineapple tart in Taiwan? I hope that I can try that in the future as well.

On another note, Yeet, I find your smile to be really beautiful, with the way your eyes look like they’re smiling as well, with your dimples showing as you smile, along with how cute your nose is. I wish I could make you smile a lot, Yeet, so that I’ll see your smile often.  I also like how you love and care for others, like your  children, your generosity when giving out to charity, and based on what I’ve seen, you have a bubbly personality. I like the fact that you’re a foodie, like your love for black thorn durian, for example, I like that we’re both introverts, I enjoy watching you mix and match different clothes. Your height brings familiarity to me, since you’re almost the same height as mama. I appreciate and enjoy your taste in music, and I learn new music based on what you use. Although we have different tastes in films, knowing that you like psychological horror and I like romance and other genres, like science fiction, I’d like to try and watch one or a few psychological horrors. I look up to you with regard to your grit when it comes to starting what you finish, since I tend to quit when it gets tough.

Also, I would like to apologize because I think I’m being too much, at times, for being too clingy and sending you too much stuff, Yeet… There are times wherein I feel that I’m unlovable and I need to send you something to prove to myself that I’m lovable by showering you with love… I, sometimes, feel that I need to show my love for you or else you’ll leave me, and I’m afraid of that happening… There will be times, just like right now, wherein I’ll tell you the things I like about you, out of the fear that I might not be able to say it in the future…I’m sorry if I can’t always be by your side, and because of that, I feel that you’re trying to show affection by showing love to another man, since I’m not by your side… I’m also sorry for feeling jealous and all when that happens… From my understanding, you’re trying to show me affection, but with someone as a placeholder, since I’m not there, like you’re telling me, “this is what you’re missing right now…”  I’m also sorry if my reply to your post was short, so please consider this as my comment on your photo…

I guess I’ll end my message for you here tonight, Yeet… I’m sorry that it’s long… I feel insecure and I’m scared that I might lose you, so I wrote the things I like about you and I apologized for a lot of things… Sometimes, I just suddenly get anxious, for a myriad of reasons and the feeling of losing you is one of them… I hope that you experienced a lot of things with your family today. I hope that you basked in the moment, appreciated the experience, and found satisfaction in making memories with everyone. I hope that you and your family will stay safe and take care of each other. I’m hoping and praying for your recovery, Yeet. I hope that life’s great for you. I hope that you’ll pray/talk to God about anything and everything. Finally, I hope that you’ll remember that I love you, Yeet, and you’ll always have a special place in my heart!