#im just saying it's hard contrast to the deal

[pigtailedgirl]

I still love this ramble meta so much. 

If I add my probably not as good thoughts too, what I love about these thoughts re Ladies Man and Good for the Soul and the like is how Ray K and Fraser have their perspectives and define the hows and whys they both push to do something, aka this stand up for good and justice for others. Ladies Man really is the study of Ray K’s history and re-evaluating and need to make it right for Beth. It’s his big guilt episode, his call to action. It’s a small thing in he misjudged and missed the evidence being new and scared, and let a system railroad Beth, and it’s a big in what it robbed from her, in that it went unanswered for so long, that he let it go, and now he can admit he feels it, now he's angry and self sure enough to pursue, so he fixes it, fixes his perspective too but cant undo that time lost. Her forgiveness is beautiful, and so powerful in hope and sadness because it doesn't erase it for Kowalski, it's a way to grieve and go on. It’s a wonderful character piece for him.

And then you have Good for the Soul. Where I’m torn of it's characterization and lesson for Fraser. Actually really cynical of Fraser here.

Because was Warfield a bully mob boss? Is it good he’s brought down and it ends Christmas happy as they say? Yes.

There is a moral victory in Fraser’s stand, in showing the bus boy and old man not to give up and in the themes of you can't let small injustices become big ones. A cop, and a community backing, is the one to stop that.

But I’m also like very pissed at Fraser every time I watch this episode, because his need to stand up and insert himself and his view of justice overrode everyone else's needs, wants, safety. He was crusading not helping when he pursued this and the episode tries too hard to erase the difference. He put himself in that fight, put himself in danger, but worse, he put the old guy and bus boy in danger with him at one point too. Just to be right about his sense of justice, about stopping the Warfield's in small scale, he makes the weird line in sand assumption that everyone’s morals and need for justice should be like his. He's judging. Like he can no longer see the details of everyone has their limits and lines, which was not the Fraser who advocated everyone making their own moral choices or reactions of earlier seasons and who has always seemed to balance his own ethics are not everyone's.

I keep coming back to what happened here, in this moment, that changed that?

Where he wasn’t before, Fraser is leaning into rigidity of a moral like this and it comes off as desperate, as his means to control something he can’t. The safety of the big difference or standing against mattering. To me it ties back in to his experiences of himself failing, of very much not wanting to be outside on the moral line alone, in thinking it's the law's or other cops place to be frontline with him, to stand up to the small injustices because he's so scared a slippery slope to the bigger in you when you ignore it. For him or others? It's development for Fraser, in the face of he doesn't know how to deal in letting it go.

But the episode dropped owning that side of Fraser acknowledged. It's a one off here. So he lost dimension and it's ending went really pat. And I'm mad at it for that because it mattered. Because if you were gonna introduce that with Fraser and Bob's argument about it and all, don't shy away.

I'm also gonna be blunt, in I think it ties a lot to losing Ray. That there is a lack of foil to Fraser's schticks and his loss to Fraser and the others works as an undertone of the whys. In there is weird undertones in the last season about the mob or gangs and the criminal injustices of nebulous groups versus individuals, what it makes people do, and what is the line between putting yourself out there to get personal gain, people using their brothers, friends, loved ones to get ahead or gain versus standing against but the loss and sacrifice that brings too. And then how this ties into Fraser's outsider-ness in JIB, and that whole affair re the 27th and Ray dividing from him that episode re justice.

But like, it brings the question of what does Fraser feel or think on Ray being undercover? If it's worth it or gonna bring justice? For who? At what cost? The unanswered question in canon versus outside context of why it happened? And Fraser's feelings he keeps bottled up, about his personal reaction and needs versus that...it's kinda Fraser's season 3/4 back round arc in a way that isn't explored. As he makes friends with Kowalski and argues with his Dad and feels lost and looking for connection...the series ignores the big hole that this is why. It's not fish out of water anymore, it really is a lost a support story.

To get back to GFTS, it’s still off that it’s up to fake apologizing as Fraser getting his kind of justice. It just strikes me weird that Fraser wants that.

Or maybe that it's a bullying one way answer. In that the message is bully your way into to getting justice?

Please someone agree there is an offness to it.

okay, so. due south. the ladies' man. here's the essay.

the thing i liked about due south in the first place was the way it was this charming little show about people wanting to be and do good. and by 'people' i actually mean fraser, not only as a protagonist but as that *one* particular character who does not only try to do/be good, or to help others, but constantly chooses to do so. and i think the part of choosing and the importance of choices have a great deal to do with this one, particular episode. and so does anger. because, it's impossible not to get angry when it comes to this episode. and it's the kind of anger that makes you want to grab the screen and scream at it, because you can't help but to think "this isn't fair" the entire time. and, at least for me, anger goes two ways, and is this anger what actually connects with this goodness theme that's so particularly present in due south almost the entire time.

because, like, everytime i watch this i get angry because of how the system works, and i bet we all do. we all know how the system works, and we all know it's a chain of command, bureaucracy and, many times, injustice (because justice many times exists only if it benefits those with power, right?). this episode is the proof of that. it shows us how far people can go to succeed and keep their own interests/reputation/images intact —even if that means condemning others. and of course the episode ends well, because the innocent life that was condemned is saved, and the unjust system and its perpetrators are exposed, so it's a good ending, right? except that it isn't. i mean, it is, but there's something of a bitter taste in it, too.

and that's when i get angry again, but not really at the system this time (even if there can be plenty of more talking about that) —but at rayk. and here's (one of) the thing(s) i find so compelling about the episode. like, the whole episode is centered around him and the fact he's the one going against the clock in order to try (and ultimately, do) the right thing. it's not fraser (who's pretty much always the one who's trying to do the right thing TM, whatever that is) but ray who's trying to do the investigation/detective work that was not done eight years ago in the remaining forty-eight hours he's got to save an innocent woman's life. and at the same time (at least to me), it's impossible not to be angry at him, too. because if only he had payed a little more attention years ago to a key piece of evidence, the entire thing would've turned out differently. so knowing how the episode goes, once you rewatch it you just want to shake the screen (again) and scream at ray not to contaminate it, and/or to pay attention to that piece of paper before the others (re: those at the top of this chain of command) take it and it's more than late (and regarding this there's a lot that can be said about the role of cops and how "good" cops aren't really allowed to exist in the system because of how it works). so it's impossible (to me, at least) not to have this mix of feelings when it comes to ray —on one hand, you want him (and need him) to succeed and to prove beth's innocence before it's too late; on the other hand, there's the anger that comes with the "why couldn't you do all this detective work eight years ago????!!!!"

and i think that what left me thinking about this episode the most on this last rewatch a few days ago was the fact it just gives you (whether that was intentional or not, maybe i'm reading too much into this but ANYWAY) a lot of stuff when it comes to ray as a character (like the flashbacks to that night eight years ago during his first big case, kneeling besides jake botrelle's body could explain his disgust every time he enters the morgue. or his confession about never having k*lled anyone. or the whole "could you pull the switch?" and the story about his dog). and also a real look (maybe not the first one but certainly there's no other like this one) at ray as a character and what does he stand up for/what are his values, but not through fraser's lanes. and i mean, not that we didn't know anything about him as a character before, but this particular episode centers on him exclusively, and we find fraser at a side (mostly as some sort of emotional support, but also as a helping hand in the entire case).

one thing i noticed that i never properly thought about during my original watch/other rewatches of the episode was beth saying that they had taken her "to the d*ath room four times" like. did ray even became aware of that? where was the entire "i've got to look her in the eye" thing? or is this entire thing happening *now* because he's actually decided to go talk to her no matter what that means to *him*? or is it because of fraser's influence/the entire reassurement that comes with the fact fraser's there not only as a helping hand but offering his support? like, fraser's entire presence and his relationship with ray being that little push he needs in order to try (and do something) in order to help someone. it's just ultimately amazing the amount of things this particular episode opens the door to (and i could write more but it's like. getting too long).

and there's this one last thing. i know this trying to do and be good is part of due south as a show (and especially of fraser as a character) but today i was rewatching good for the soul and i couldn't stop thinking about how that episode and that plot is (in a way) almost like justapoxed to the ladies' man. like, in good for the soul you get this character that has a lot of power and influences and does whatever he wants with it (slapping a waiter is just what works as conflict for the episode, but we know there's much more than that), and i just feel like there's almost a certain naivety in fraser's willingness to do something about it. because, we all know there's people like this and no one does anything about it, right? everywhere, all over the world. it seems like almost impossible to stop them. and then there's the ladies man, an episode in which we're showed the the justice system works in a determinate way, too —only it's not supposed to. and it's not that we don't know that, it's just that it still feels wrong the fact it works like that, even if we know it does. and both episodes make me extremely angry because of different (and sometimes, not so different) reasons, but the main difference, i think, it's that with good for the soul you just assume things work like that sometimes, even if we ultimately want fraser to succeed (and he does!!!!!), and i actually admire his relentless efforts in trying to do the right thing. but, at least the first time i watched this episode, i honestly didn't expect him to succeed, and i was surprised when he did. with the ladies man is, once again, a race against the clock —ray can't fail. it's not that he shouldn't, he just can't.

and there's closure, another main difference. in good for the soul, there's a sense of relief at the end of the episode, and we're all glad, and it's christmas, and it's beautiful. and i think that the thing with the ladies man is that, of course you want beth to be free and to ray to solve the entire thing and find the truth... but there's no consolation in the end. there may be some closure, but the ending it's bittersweet because it's like, good, ray did it, she's free, but at the same time, eight years were stolen from her. and she knows, we know, and ray knows (maybe that explains the crying in the end, although a million different things can explain it, including relief and some more guilt and there's another essay we could make about it).

it's honestly such a bitterweet episode and very few due south episodes get as real as this one. everytime i rewatch it i need to think about it for a while because there's so much to analize and just so many things to put together, i couldn't even write them all here... but it's just so worth it, at the same time

[suckishima]

rrrrrrrrr im so frustrated with my writing. its just been weeks of struggle and whyyyy. idk i think i need to rework or rethink what im going for with this one or something, its like i can feel the threads of the themes i wanna do are sooo close to tying together but it just isnt quite reaching yet and so it reads like a stilted bland mess but the more i stare at it the further away it feels aaah

i know it can get there i kNOW it can, the ending and like aha moment is so cleaaaar that i think its almost too solid and thats why my beginning feels so fucked—like i just keep asking myself 'well if hes gonna get there in chapter 5, whats stopping him from getting there now in chapter 2??' i tHOUGHT i had reasons but now that im there i just keep instinctually writing him to have the connecting/realization moment anyway and like. if that's how it is then what even IS the story??? i need a break

[alphalesbian]

.

[quinn-pop]

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

[minnie-cai]

i saw your art x physical therapist and tashi x makeup artist post and i know you’ll understand what im about to say: being a trainer/ makeup artist/ something along those lines and hooking up w two of your clients. is it a little unethical?? maybe, but you’re a grown up, and you can do what you want! and you really like both of them and they bring very different things to the table. but at the donaldson x duncan home, both art and tashi are having affairs and trying to keep it a secret from the other person and failing pretty hard. little do they know, they’re hooking up w the same person: you. and maybe, just maybe, they’re falling for you a bit. thoughts? feelings?

holy fucking shit i was smiling and nodding while reading this. yeah. yeah, you GET IT💜 i’m so writing something full-length about this about this but until then, have some thoughts.

not proofread, just shitposting. also, not a hairdresser. i can’t even braid hair. if you are one and throughout my thoughts on this scenario i fuck up, please correct me.

I think with Tashi it would be pretty quick with the physical aspect and emotional connection would come into play later.

She starts connecting to you when she realizes you’ve done something small for her that she doesn’t pay you for. Don’t get her wrong, she knows Art loves her and he’d bend over backwards for her approval and validation but he is too caught up in how miserable their routine is to keep noticing details about her. Art is her husband who had been pining over her for years but you know her coffee order and it’s on your table by your next appointment, casually waiting for her to take it, not making a big deal out of it. She tilts her head a bit and furrows her eyebrows, thinking of whether or not she’d asked her assistant for coffee but soon enough you emerge from your break with a small smile, untangling the cable of your flat iron.

“Morning, Mrs Duncan!” You beam and she gives you a small nod, clearly caught up in sizing the plastic cup because she feels like she’s gone insane. “I hope it’s not wrong.” You chime in on her thoughts, as if reading her mind. “You ordered this?” She asks pointing to the drink and raises her eyebrows when you nod, an almost repressed but impressed expression on her face. “Well, thanks.” She mumbles taking a sip and her spot on the chair, sitting in the same place she did every time.

She wouldn’t admit it but she feels a bit bad when people take her stand-offish attitude personally. She doesn’t like it when they change their personality to be quieter or less sociable around her just because she wasn’t very talkative or was particularly professional, she felt like they had no backbone, that they were fragile to be affected by whether she approves of their behaviour or not. She enjoys the fact that you don’t. You’re still sweet as sugar and by that point you’ve just figured her out. In contrast to Art, she likes to spend her appointments quiet as you pamper her and hum. It gives her time to think peacefully, even with your humming.

On the other hand, Art sees you as a break from life.

When he comes in and he sits in that chair in front of you and starts talking about something random like the music you have on, his brain is empty. It’s like for the first time in so long he doesn’t have to think about anything else. The next time he’s doing his warm up before training, he’s listening to the songs you recommended to him instead of the brown noise his trainer has said he should listen to in order to focus and it feels good to add a little something of you in his day, it feels like color in his sad, beige gym and boring green juice.

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

SET UP.

famous!readers back you guys and its angstier than ever.

Okay so I skipped dinner.

I physically couldn’t handle the expected awkwardness 

I lied and told him my manager needed to to talk me and it was urgent

He's a profiler you dumb bitch

Part of me feels bad, but it’s not like I don’t want to make amends with him and his team; it’s just that ever since I was a little girl, I’ve struggled with confrontation, and it’s followed me into adulthood. I know avoiding the issue won’t make it go away, and I’m fully aware that he probably sees right through my excuse. Still, the thought of facing him and his team, of having to explain myself and potentially deal with their disappointment, feels like too much to handle right now. It’s frustrating to be so paralyzed by something as simple as a conversation, but I’m hoping that with time and a bit of courage, I can find a way to address it.

Adding to my anxiety about confronting them is the lingering sting of how they treated me behind my back. I’d overheard them making fun of my singing and mocking my songs, which felt like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just the hurtful comments but the sense of betrayal from a group I had hoped would be supportive. The thought of facing them now feels like stepping into a hostile environment, where every word and gesture might be laced with judgment or ridicule. This makes my reluctance to confront the situation even more overwhelming, as the fear of being dismissed or belittled looms large.

On top of everything, I already feel incredibly insecure about being around Spencer’s team. Here I am, a singer trying to make a name for myself, while they’re FBI profilers, experts in their field, and it’s hard not to feel like my career is a joke in comparison. The stark contrast between our worlds—my creative, emotionally driven profession versus their analytical, high-stakes work—makes me question if I even belong in their presence. Every interaction feels like an unspoken judgment of my career choice, amplifying my insecurities and making me doubt whether my passion for music is taken seriously or just seen as a frivolous hobby in their eyes.

I then decide to go out to a party to self soothe God knows i need it, seeing all my friends 

Bella, gigi and ariana all my friends making it their duty to make me feel better about my current situationship

I then see a blonde, gorgeous woman walk into the club 

Its lila archer

No.

No.

Lila always secretly resented me, for what reason i'm not sure, but one thing i do know is that i'm not the problem lilas notorious for being a huge bitch to almost everyone she comes in contact with. Her fame getting to head 24/7 I truly want someone to shoot me if i ever turn out to be like her, so rude so dismissive so-

Wait whys she walking over here? Was i talking out loud???? 

“y/nnnnnnn???’’ she dreadfully drags out. ‘’ what are you doing here, everyone else told me youve been at home moping over a guy” voice FILLED with mockery terribly trying to be hidden with concern 

I finally get the courage to say something.

“ wow words get around fast i guess”

“ im here for you you know, if you ever need advice, like beauty advice, or just friend advice”

Oh. 

I already feel immensely insecure around her. her gorgeous eyes, body face, dating history

Before i can say anything back she chirps up and says

‘’ what is his name anyways? Wont spill the beans, promise.”

“Spencer.”

‘’ wow so I don't get a last name” she says and laughs, " that poisonous laugh will kill me one day.

‘“Reid.’’

I can see the knowing smirk forming on her face and i'm confused on whats humorous about his name

‘’ oh my god, you mean FBI spencer reid, that dirty dog just can’t get enough of the public eye girls can he, he sure does have a mouth on him though.’’

Fuck. my. Life. 

He said i was his  first girlfriend,

Im hyperventilating internally 

‘’ maybe you're thinking of someone else lila, spencer said i'm his first girlfriend”

‘’ Oh you probably are, we still had fun though, he saved my life. Of course I'd reward him for it.”

I swear the music in the club stopped when she said that

‘’ excuse me.’’

I say as i quickly power walk out the nightclub and into my car to go home

You might be asking why i'm freaking out so bad

Spencer told me we were each others first time.

I gave him my virginity thinking it was his first time too.

He lied.

He lied.

He lied.

[jounosparticles]

jouno’s eyelashes - a quick analysis

yes im analyzing jouno’s eyelashes. im obsessed with him what can i say.

one thing i’ve noticed throughout my many rereads of jouno’s segments of the manga is that he is actually given eyelashes in a lot of the panels he is present in! often times they’re just thin white lines but they’re definitely there. here are some examples.

now, if we recall back to what harukawa said about eyes a long time ago:

the darker ones eyes are, the more tainted or corrupted a person is. someone who is doing good and/or feeling good may have whiter eyes. to rephrase, one who’s eyes are dark are typically doing something corrupt and/or are in an emotionally bad state. we see this numerous times throughout the manga with many characters, the shade of their eyes changes with their emotion at the time usually.

now what does this have to do with jouno? well, i believe his eyelashes are used to display his intentions since he keeps his eyes closed constantly.

now, there are definitely some exceptions to this. panels where his eyelashes are small could be hard to colour this way, so im looking past a few instances for that purpose.

anyways, i believe looking at his eyelashes in this perspective also hints towards his betrayal of fukuchi, since you can see he has good intent. more on this later.

i'd also like to preface this by reminding you that jouno believed he was in the right with most things he did. he was sure the agency was in the wrong for a long time, times where his lashes were white while dealing with the agency was likely because he believed himself to be doing what is good.

now, starting with his debut in chapter 57, his eyelids are almost completely black as he arrests dazai

his eyelashes appear a bit darker as he torments people i find.

such as shortly after he slices kunikida's notebook and asks tetchou to kill yosano.

one scene i actually want to put a lot of emphasis on here is chapter 78's interaction between jouno and kunikida.

here is his face when he first walks in, he's simply making small talk over how a terrorist attack is awful

we can see his lashes pretty well.

we can also see it well when he's talking about his asian pear. maybe he just really likes them.

however, as the conversation progresses onto tormenting kunikida, his eyelids casually grow darker.

they're not completely black yet, but you can tell he is enjoying bothering kunikida despite his claim of innocence.

after this, you can see his lashes are a little brighter as he announces that yosano is going to be executed.

this makes sense remembering that he is under the belief that yosano is guilty of terrorism and is getting the punishment he believes she deserves.

after this, jouno walks away as kunikida cries out in anger.

his eyelashes are almost completely black here, likely because he is getting nothing but personal enjoyment out of kunikida's grief. he isn't doing good by this and this could definitely be seen as corrupt behaviour.

a huge contrast to what i've been saying falls in chapters 71 and 72, the cafe scenes.

you can see the white of his eyelashes in nearly every panel he's in.

what makes this different than when he was bothering kunikida is that bothering the cafe owner was moving his case forward. he believed he was pursuing justice and doing what is right by extracting important information here; as opposed to doing nothing but mentally torturing someone who isn't improving his case. from his perspective, his actions weren't tainted in anyway except possibly approach, but since he was doing what was right his eyelids were painted white.

another example of this is in chapters 60 and 61, when he is fighting the agency for the first time.

and when the agency escapes and he's surprised to find out the pursued terrorist group would have allies in chapter 62.

i found that these three chapters had a lot of small panels where you couldn't really see the detail of his eyes, but generally they were white as he caught the criminals. they were also white as they escaped, since he was likely confused that people were easily supporting the group he perceived as evil.

my last example of this is his eyes being very white as he tortures the bank robbers in the flashback scenes in chapter 92.5.

he believes that he is seeking justice here. the robber gets what they deserve, and his intentions are what he believes in just which explains his eyes being white.

anyways, to summarize this all: jouno's eyelashes colour often displays his morality. his lashes seem to be coloured more white when he is doing what is morally right from his perspective. even if what he is doing is considered brutal by most, his eyes glow white if it is in pursing of justice or good. in contrast, if what he is doing has no overall benefit and he is just distressing someone for purely his own enjoyment, his eyelids often are coloured much darker.

however, as i said above i believe this subtly hinted at jouno's betrayal of fukuchi.

in chapter 92, we can still see by his eyelashes that he has the right intentions when hunting for the agency.

and towards the end of the chapter we see his eyes still have a small white streak, implying his bluff on actually being willing to switch to the other side. at the same time, the thinness of the lash could be so small because he is lying to his superior as well, which i suppose could also be seen as tainted behaviour.

however, after fukuchi's plan is unraveled we see the brightness shine again.

as i stated above, when he isn't doing what he believes is right or is tormenting people for no reason but his own enjoyment, his eyes look black. but if you look at the image below you can see his eyes are partially coloured white, hinting that he was going to do what was right. it is subtle colouring, i assume that is partially due to the fact that his face was rather small on the page. but regardless it is still noticeable.

and what do we know? he did switch up and betray fukuchi shortly after saying this.

with that in mind, there's one scene i deliberately avoided bringing up until now; the scene i believe heavily tries to avoid hinting at jouno's betrayal of fukuchi. im referring to the scene where jouno confronts aya.

as i said, if jouno is acting corrupt towards someone for his own fun, his eyelids are dark, but if he's doing something that he believes is just his lashes remain partially white. i believe that out of context his eyes would likely be black as he torments aya, however since he secretly had good intention they would have actually been white.

however, the readers had yet to know the context of his approach until the end of chapter 93, so they needed to hide the fact that he may have had good intent here.

so harukawa kept his eyes covered (or coloured his face differently) throughout the scene.

the most we see of his face in this whole scene is his side profile, which is small enough to not need to colour his eyelashes in.

i believe this was an intentional choice to keep the readers from guessing that he was doing something he believes is right here.

anyways, to sum up this segment i believe that jouno's eyelashes in chapter 92-92.5 subtly hinted at the fact that he was indeed siding with aya and was preparing to betray fukuchi.

in conclusion, i believe jouno's eyelashes hint at his true intent a lot. they show that he is a good person hiding behind a facade. the shading of his eyelids is a lot more subtle than how most character's eyes look in the manga, which i believe helps add more to jouno's somewhat moral ambiguity. he is an incredibly well-written character and i can't wait to see more of him!

[fanfiction4sooya]

yeojin her as a camgirl

I'm slowly getting back into my writings, so hope you like it anon! thanks for your request by the way!!!

tw: +18, smut, size kink, strapon use, exhibitionism, hair pulling, etc; Minors do not interact.

It was an awkward start, specially since the Im Yeojin directly contacted you offering a deal for you to appear on her only fans.

You laughed, a bit taken aback by her bluntness as her eyes scanned you and she began explaining that she overhead your conversation with a friend about your family's money problems and that she could help.

"So, what do you say?" She leaned on your dorm's doorframe, her small figure seemed way too intimidating for you. "I'll make sure to cover your face, no one will ever know that you are the one with me" She stared at your face, impatience eating her insides with each second passed.

"I still have to think" You said, gulping and lowering your eyes. That whole ideia was ridiculously insane and so out of pocket.

She was somewhat famous, didn't care about people's opinions, drop dead gorgeous and she wanted to have sex with you? Like, you knew you weren't ugly, but no one knew you. You were just happy to go through life without anyone noticing you.

That's why her offer, 10k just to let her fuck you live, was way out of anything your mind has ever thought about.

"I searched about your site..." You told her, licking your ice cream after she took you shopping for lingerie just to "make friends" as she explained. "I saw you are one of the best selling content creators..." You timidly said, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. She hummed in response, leaning back on her chair.

"So now you know I make a lot of money" Her voice sounded always so cheerful that it never seemed like she was talking anything near the 'Sex on camera' thing. "Are you still not convinced?" She leaned forward very close to you, boldly licking a stripe of your ice cream. You shivered.

"Well it's not that like... about money and stuff..." You stammered, your eyes locked on hers. "I just feel shy on showing myself to..." You cleared your throat. "All of those people" She smiled up at you, clearly a predatory one. "What if I don't like women?" You whispered to her ear and she nodded.

"You don't have to like me..." Her small hand brushed a hair strand out of the view of your collarbone. "You just need to keep quiet and let me fuck you on live" You gulped. How could such an angelic face have these dirty things to do and say?

"What do you gain with this?" You managed to ask, trying hard not to let your cheeks get redder than they were.

"I gain..." She clicked her tongue. "I want it to be you" She bit her lip. "You seem perfect for what I want. You are taller and bigger than me, which is definitely...exciting"

Your eyes avoided hers again, your mind running wild for a lot of reasons.

"I want 15k" You licked your ice cream one more time, eyes locked on hers now. Her small smile opening wide and her eyes twinkled with excitement.

"Deal" Was her response.

🌸🌸-

You got in her car and she drove you to the hotel room she rented for the two of you. It was fancy and everything was carefully set, the camera, notebook, lighting, everything.

You heart was beating fast as you carefully put on a set of white lacy lingerie, your hair was down. You stared at the mirror, shame and excitement eating your brains.

She was wearing a red set, that color giving her a more sexy look to contrast with her angelic face. She fucked you with her eyes the moment you stepped out of the bathroom, a robe carefully put on over your taller frame. She reached her hand for you and sat you on the edge of the bed with her.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her hand carefully on your thigh. Hot and so inviting. You hummed, nodding. "She fixed your hair a bit leaning over you, her breath hot on your cheek. "Can I kiss you?" She carefully asked and you nodded, squeezing your thighs in an anxious, horny way.

Your heart jumped on your chest when her lips touched yours. Smooth and soft at first, but you could feel on the way she pulled you into her how she wanted that, how she thought about it over and over. Her tongue immediately massaged yours when you parted lips a little and your breath hitched, melting into it. Her hand went up and down on your thigh, making you shiver and you grabbed the sheets under you as she took off the robe from you. When you finally parted ways you felt as if you were on cloud nine, whimpering in a more needy way than you intended because you knew that as long as the live kept going you wouldn't be feeling her tongue on yours because of the mask.

"We are about to start" She said lowly, her pupils blown. She placed the mask on your face, tying it up behind your head. It was a kistune mask, white with red flowers in it. It was picked carefully by Yeojin because it covered your whole face, leaving only your beautiful eyes to be seen.

You felt a little suffocated, but you felt the need to do that. No just for the money but honestly because Yeojin wanted to and you were kind of into the idea of being seen. Just kind of, of course.

"I told you guys I had something special for today" She gleefully said starting the live, pulling you to her lap as if you were just a doll.

Your heart was beating loudly, not really paying attention to what she was saying, just to her hands on your waist and how her small boobs were pressing on your back.

"I know, I have a pretty doll right?" She smiled to the camera grazing her index and middle finger on your covered nipple. You tried really hard not to squirm, but it was almost impossible.

The comments were wild, from asking her to take off your mask to them asking for her to manhandle you, to fuck your ass and do all sorts of unthinkable things to you.

"Oh you want me to fuck her in the ass?" She said, turning you around and laying you across her lap, your ass towards the camera. She massaged it, still talking to the viewers.

You felt yourself growing aroused with all that dirty talk and her hands roaming your ass, massaging it.

"Fuck, don't worry" She said reading the comments. "I get horny just by speaking to her..." She lightly slapped your ass. "This beautiful thing makes me crazy everyday" She sounded a bit out of breath. "Oh is it?" She sounded surprised, turning to your masked face. "They say your panties are getting wet" You wanted to respond but she specifically oriented you not to.

She slowly pulled your panties down and they were sticking to your wet cunt, the cold air hitting your exposed intimacy. You bit your lip, gripping the sheets again.

"Look at this..." She touched your slit to gather your wetness on the tip of her finger, creating a thread of that sticky fluid between your cunt and her hand to show on camera. "Her pussy looks pretty, yes. The prettiest..." She dipped one finger inside you, making you moan. "Oh, I think she likes that..."

She dipped it in again, but this time she pushed it further inside and you clenched, closing your eyes. She started pumping her fingers at a strong, rapid pace and almost losing control over her own actions. She was trying her best to put on a show for her viewers, but she underestimated how badly she wanted you.

She wanted that since she first saw you on the hallways with your cute shy smile and amazing body. Since then she knew she needed to have you.

She grabbed one of the vibrators she placed nearby where she wanted you, turning it on and grazing it from your back to your thighs and next to where you wanted it the most. You were shaking like a leaf on a windy day. She took off her fingers from your wet pussy, licking them and mumbling how delicious you tasted.

"Isn't she such a cute doll?" Her voice dripped with arousal, and you could feel by how her free hand grabbed your hip that she was hitting her breaking point. "I'll fuck her good, don't you worry" She said.

Next thing you knew the vibrator was on your clit.

"yeojinie..." You whispered, taking her off guard. She gulped and exhaled sharply, pulsing hard. No one else could really hear your voice or what you said, and honestly she didn't want them to listen that part. She wanted to keep that cute way you said her name engraved on her mind and her mind only.

Without a warning she pushed it inside your hole and you could feel how thick that thing was, hitting your walls repeatedly as she kept talking to the camera as if nothing was happening. You were staring to feel yourself getting wetter, the pink vibrator coated on that thick white liquid coming out of you.

Suddenly she stopped, leaving a warm kiss on your hip and lightly pushing you off her lap, pulling the vibrator out of you. You whined when she pulled you entirely onto the bed, carefully placing you on all fours with your pussy still displayed on camera. You heard the notifications go insane with the chat and donations, but yeojin wasn't even paying attention to that anymore.

The only thing she could see was you. And she wanted you.

Getting on her knees, she kissed the back of your thighs admiring how beautifully exposed you were for her. That feeling of ownership was growing alongside with her wish to make you feel good. She looked back at the camera and the laptop to make sure both of you were on the frame, smiling and then licking a long wet stripe from your clit to your slit. Your scream muffled by the mask made her grin and grab your thick thighs to push her face further onto your pulsing cunt.

"God, your taste is so addicting" She told you, moaning while taking one hand to her own pussy and lightly rubbing it over her red thong. She shook, knowing damn well her viewers were going insane with that little action of hers.

They liked to see how her petite self fucked you hard and good and honestly? She did it too. Yeojin was honestly used to the fact everyone loved to manhadle her given her smaller frame, but she wanted to experience that too. She thrived on the idea of making someone her doll to play with.

She let go of your swollen pussy with a pop, putting on a show to make them see how wet she got you.

"Stay like that, don't move" She told you, massaging your folds then getting up to the bedside table. You could see when she put on the leather harness, a big dildo attached to it. You gulped, moaning and swaying your hips unintentionally to the camera.

'Fuck, I'm so aroused' Was the only thought inside your brain as she approached you, positioning your body in a way they couldn't see your pussy anymore, only your arched back and the profile of your bobs.

She picked up the camera from her tripod to film herself stretching you, her mischievous tone dripping lust. Your hips were in the air and your face down and she felt herself go weak, her heart also beating fast as hell inside her chest.

"Look at this..." She said, tapping your slit with the tip of the strap and making you jolt. "I always dreamed of doing this... fuck" She slowly pressed the tip to your aching hole, entering you little by little as you squirmed. "My little fuck doll" She cheerfully said, zooming in on your stretched hole.

Her free hand held your hip tightly, roughly pulling you into her and knocking the air out of your lungs. You moaned, your left hand instinctively seeking hers and scratching her arm as she pounded into you.

"Yeojin, oh my god" You loudly said and she slapped your ass, pulling your hair next and lifting your masked face from the mattress.

"I didn't knew dolls could talk" She continued her hard pace, placing the camera on the mattress in an angle that your body could be seen. She held both your wrists behind your back as she kept slamming her big cock inside you and you rolled your eyes to scream into the mask.

You were sure you came, but the way she fucked you felt so fucking good that you didn't wanted to stop as the arousal was still there.

"Fuck, I need to kiss you" She said onto your ear and you shook your head negatively, still very conscious of the fact that you were the one that couldn't be recognized. "I'll stop the live then" The rhythm was slower now that she was speaking to you, only that wet sound was more audible than your voices.

"You'll lose m-money" You managed to say between sobs and she scoffed.

"I don't care" She pulled it off, picking up the camera. "I am sorry babies, we had a slight inconvenience now but soon we'll be back" She immediately turned it off on the laptop and went back to where she left you, turning you around and ripping that damn mask off.

That kiss was rough and needy as your tongues sloppily battled against each other, she placed you on your back on the edge of the bed and slammed the fake cock inside your pussy one more time, her breath was heavy and there was sweat dripping from her forehead to her chin but she looked absolutely beautiful.

Animalistic, but beautiful.

"You have no idea how many times I pictured your pussy stretched out for me like this" She growled, kissing you.

"Please please, keep doing that" You held her face with one hand and the other pulled onto the harness, kind of guiding her hips into yours. "y-yeojinie, don't stop please p-lease fuck" She kept that hard pace, her eyes locked on yours and her tongue deep inside your mouth.

"If you call me yeojinie one more time I'm going to fucking cum too" She said smiling against your lips as her eyes rolled, her clit extremely stimulated by the strap as well.

"Yeojinie... yes baby, argh" You did it on purpose, your pussy clenching hard against her dick as you felt your climax wash over you, your body beautifully arching off the bed as she kept fucking you. Her orgasm hit as well, her eyes closing. Your moans and hers mixed up in a beautiful harmony.

She kept bucking her hips into yours with her eyes closed, kissing your lips kind of in a haze, hypnotized by the way your body felt against hers. You and her slowly stopped the kiss, her wet body against yours in a delicious way.

"I think you turned the live off too soon" You said, feeling a bit guilty for not wanting to take off the mask.

"I don't care" She rested herself against you. "They've seen you enough" She kissed your neck. "But don't worry mask girl..." Her thumb playfully grazed against your nipple and you hissed. "If you are that worried about my viewers, we can do this a second time" She kissed you in the lips and you returned it.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 3)

First Part. / The Winter Ball / Champagne Problems

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Warning(s): None, enemy to lovers, back in time, destiny, Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Feedback is appreciated! Follow or like (or both) for part 4!

The last dance before the Plinth Award engulfed Y/N in a whirlwind of emotions that transported her to a distant past. She didn't expect to see Coryo at the party, as he had become a dedicated student and rarely attended social events. Nonetheless, she decided to seize the opportunity to approach him before the games, especially after glimpsing Snow's future in the hands of the mysterious woman.

Her gaze found Coryo on the other side of the room, and her heart raced. He looked different from the last time she saw him, unhinged while shooting birds in the forest. Y/N knew that if there was a chance to change the grim fate she foresaw, she would do everything in her power to save the boy. With determination, she headed towards him. Her dress, not as dazzling as four years ago, was a simple one, reflecting her current situation. Y/N no longer wanted to blend in with those people; she wanted to stand out. Her dress lacked sparkle, a simple white dress with loose sleeves. As she approached, she focused intensely on Coryo. "Y/N?" The sweetness of the sound of her name contrasted with the not-so-friendly expression in his eyes. He seemed surprised and perhaps confused by her presence.

"I thought you didn't like social situations," Y/N teased, initiating the typical banter between the two.

"I could say the same about you," Coryo retorted, displaying the familiar banter between them.

"Coryo, I wanted to wish you luck at the Plinth Award. I know how hard you fight for it." Y/N curtsied with her dress, trying to show sincerity. However, suspicion lingered in Coryo's eyes. The past few years had been marked by fights and tense interactions between the two.

It was at this moment that Clemensia Dovecote appeared next to Snow, intertwining her arm with his. An inconvenient presence that added more tension to the encounter.

"What are you doing here? Trying to win a crumb from your future president?"

"Clemensia, I don't remember addressing you," Y/N cut in, trying to maintain composure.

"Do you really think you look good today?" Clemensia mocked, laughing ironically. "You may have money, but wow, you need a stylist." Y/N, experienced in dealing with unpleasant criticisms, laughed, making it clear that such comments did not affect her.

"It seems like you're practicing to be a fashion critic now, Clemensia."

"Clemensia," Coriolanus was trying to prevent what would happen next.

"I'm just surprised that someone like you is trying to stand out. Usually, you're so... invisible," Clemensia continued, her voice dripping with superiority.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Well, it's good to change things up once in a while. And as for you, Clemensia, what brought you to the ball? Isn't it more fun spending your parents' money on ugly bags?" The provocation hit Clemensia, but she kept her composure. 

"Just enjoying what life in the Capital has to offer. Unlike some around here who seem not to fit into such luxury." Clemensia's words were sharp, and Y/N knew she was just trying to undermine her confidence. However, she wouldn't let it shake her. 

"Ah, I understand. Sometimes it's hard for some people to grasp that there's more to life than just appearances and superficialities."

Clemensia cast a disdainful look at Y/N before shrugging. "Each to their own, right? Good luck trying to get Coriolanus's attention." With that, the girl "accidentally" bumped into a waiter serving someone nearby. Three glasses of champagne landed on the white dress, leaving Y/N with a mix of feelings, from anger to the determination not to be shaken by empty provocations.

The brief interlude with Clemensia was not what Y/N expected for the night; now she was unsettled, wet, and smelling of alcohol.

It was then that Sejanus Plinth approached, interrupting the tense moment. Her plan to approach Snow that night was thwarted, but Sejanus's friendly presence brought unexpected relief.

"Y/N, you look beautiful," Sejanus complimented with a gentle smile and a small handkerchief that would at least help reduce the dress's dampness. She returned the smile, grateful for the friendly gesture.

"Dance with me?" Sejanus invited. Y/N silently agreed, accepting the offer, defeated. The awkward moment with Clemensia and the initial frustration were temporarily forgotten as she engaged in a relaxed dance among friends. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"It's impossible for you to be okay after what happened," Sejanus directed a compassionate look. "Who needs fashion designers when you can have an accidental stylist like Clemensia?" Y/N laughed. The echo, however, reverberated in Snow's thoughts, casting shadows over what once seemed like a complication-free night. The ball now became a complex piece of an enigma that only time would unravel.

"I don't want to ruin your outfit; it looks expensive." The girl sighed, trying to keep her distance.

"Yours does too, and Clemensia didn't think twice before trying to destroy it," Sejanus brought her closer during the dance. Y/N smiled; the altruism in the boy was evident. Even with a lot of money, he always tried to be fair and helpful to everyone around him.

While they danced, the shared glances and conspiratorial smiles between Sejanus and Y/N did not go unnoticed. Snow, watching from afar, felt an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. The sight of Y/N in Sejanus's arms, laughing freely, triggered a strange and unsettling sensation. In the midst of the dance, Sejanus guided Y/N with graceful skill. The lightness of the moment contrasted with the complexity of emotions unfolding in Snow's mind. He wondered if the smile Y/N shared with Sejanus was different from the one she offered him.

As the music came to an end, Sejanus and Y/N exchanged a thankful glance and bid farewell with a polite gesture. Snow, observing the friendly closeness between the two, felt a twinge of uncertainty and discomfort. 

Y/N returned to the secluded spot, and Sejanus stepped away to greet other guests. Snow, determined to overcome the uncomfortable feeling enveloping him, approached Y/N with a forced attempt at indifference.

"Apparently, you found an excellent dance partner," he commented, his eyes concealing a tension he himself tried to understand. Y/N looked at him, a playful smile playing on her lips.         

"Sejanus is a great friend. You should try dancing with him." Far from calming Snow, the response only heightened his uncertainty. The remainder of the night passed with a tense atmosphere between them, and while Y/N and Sejanus shared moments of friendship, Snow pondered the complexities of his own emotions and what the future held for him and for the girl who, even while dancing with another, remained at the center of his thoughts.

After the dance and greeting everyone, Y/N decided to leave the ballroom. She sat on a bench outside, taking off her tight shoes. She realized it was the same garden as four years ago, where her lips and Snow's touched for the first time.

"Thanks for what you said about the Plinth Award." Once again, Snow startled the girl.

"You're welcome."

"I'm sorry about the dress; it'll probably stain."

"Since when do you know about laundry?" Y/N teased.

"Tigris made me learn the hard way," Snow laughed.

"What Clemensia did wasn't cool; I'm sorry." The boy seemed sincere. A white rose on his chest drew attention in his black suit. "You look beautiful." Y/N was angry with him. Looking at him like this and knowing what would come next was driving her crazy. Coryo seemed lost; maybe there was no salvation for him despite everything.

"I know your trick," she teased, laughing. She knew, above all, that Coryo used his charm to persuade everyone. And he did it very well. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Snow didn't understand where the girl was going.

"You're impossible to decipher, as if you don't want people to know what you really feel."

"Showing emotions is a sign of weakness." It was one of the things Coryo's father always said, and they repeated it to him as a child. "Feeling is a weakness. I don't allow myself to feel anything other than the feelings that keep me going." His gaze seemed somewhat dark.

Y/N looked at the starry mantle above them.

"Showing emotions makes you human, Coryo," Y/N said. "Humanity means understanding your own feelings. We need to cherish

the good emotions and keep the people who make us feel good close by, you know?" It was as if she wanted the boy to be shaped by her words. She knew it wouldn't be that easy. But it would be a good start.

"Do you have any dreams? Something you would like to make come true?"

"I'm not sure. I wish I could give a better life to the Snows. Clean our name, return to the prestige we had before the destruction of District 13. I also want to give a better future to Tigris and our Grandmother." At this point, the boy was already by her side, leaning on the railing that separated the area they were in from the small artificial stream below. "I also wish I could choose what and how much I eat." Coryo was sincere; Y/N could tell. The poverty of the Snows was not evident, Coryo disguised it well. But Tigris complained to the girl years before about how the Snow family was becoming increasingly impoverished. Whenever Y/N went to her friend's house, she brought something to eat as a silent gesture of sympathy, but she knew that she would make her friend very grateful. She couldn't and didn't want to seem sorry or supporting the friend's family. Because people would notice, and it would generate more problems than solutions. Y/N didn't know her own family's reaction either.

"It's a lot for someone who claims not to feel," Y/N teased, her eyes reflecting a playful challenge.

Coryo's lips curved into an ironic smile. "Maybe I just need the right inspiration."

Y/N laughed, feeling a surprisingly lightness in their conversation. "Inspiration, huh? If you had the chance to shape the future, how would it be?"

He stared at the starry sky, pondering her question. "Power is the answer, control over everything. But maybe... maybe a Panem where people don't have to fight for survival, where the Capitol doesn't dictate our lives." Y/N wondered if he was talking about his own survival or about the districts.

Y/N's eyes softened, witnessing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath Coryo's facade. "That sounds like a dream worth pursuing."

"And you? In this ideal Panem, what would be your role?" He asked curiously.

"I would be a storyteller," Y/N replied, laughing. "I would weave narratives of hope, resilience, and... love. I would show the world that compassion can be our greatest strength."

A genuine smile lit up Coryo's face, and for that brief moment, the differences between them dissipated. The distant music from the ballroom served as a backdrop for their conversation, a symphony accompanying the unspoken connection.

"You would do well in that role. Even though I think it would be a waste of potential since you're the SECOND-best student at the Academy," Coryo admitted, with a playful tone.

The white rose on his lapel seemed to capture the moonlight, its petals reflecting the vulnerability in his eyes. The tension that once filled the air now transformed into a shared understanding.

They were very close to each other; Y/N could smell the boy's perfume. She noticed every detail of his face to try to capture that moment in her memory. Her fingers stretched out and reached for the rose on his lapel. She detached it easily.

"Which one of us is going to steal some sweets for us to eat while we talk?"

"Do you have pockets in your dress?" The boy teased, enjoying the moment, as she placed the stolen rose on the strap of her white dress.

"No, exactly because of that, it will have to be you."

Coryo laughed as he nodded. Without saying anything else, he turned his back to the girl and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

Alone, Y/N wondered if the boy would come back. She was sure it was a perfect opening for him to return to the ball. She looked at the small fish swimming fast in the artificial stream below the railing. Even they were trapped. Even their freedom was controlled by the Capitol.

"Y/N."

"Coryo."

"Do you still like chocolate?" The boy asked, taking a plastic package with something like a small tart from his pocket.

"They make these especially for stealing, how can that be?" The girl amused herself while opening the small package.

As the night unfolded, the two found themselves immersed in a conversation that transcended the limitations of their tumultuous history. The garden, witness to their first kiss and now witness to their shared dreams, became a sanctuary of possibilities. And in the midst of the starry serenity, a connection, delicate but profound, began to blossom, challenging preconceived notions of their roles in a world on the brink of change. The night continued, filled with moments that defied expectations and revealed the complexity of their feelings. Y/N and Coryo's story was far from over, but in that moment, they chose to enjoy the dance under the stars, building together a new chapter of hope and possibility in a world about to change.

______________________________

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS and TAGLIST ARE OPEN!!!!!

[milgram-tournament]

MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 2 BRING IT ON vs. AFTER PAIN

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for BRING IT ON:

"Reasons why Bring it On should win:

- Just by starting the song, the instrumentals are BANGER. Like his more rock style is very cool, even better than After Pain’s more mellow style - Arthur’s voice (Futa’s va) had bills due because have you HEARD his singing?? His raspier voice fits Futa so well - It feels so explosive and like a call to action in a sense, which very much matches Futa’s mentality during trial 1. He also wasn’t playing victim like a CERTAIN girl… (jk, love you mu!) - SAA HAJIMEYOU USOTSUKI KARIDA - UNDEAD HEROOOI YES SLAY KING HIS HIGH NOTE HERE IS HEAVENLY - His scream at the end. Oh my god. HE LITERALLY ATE THIS NOTE. AFTER PAIN COULD NEVER. BRING IT ON FTW 🔥🔥🔥" - His range goes WAAAAAY higher than Mu. She would end up like PHG if she even tried hitting any of his high notes in the last chorus /j

---

- The vocals are amazing, those growls are so well done - You’re able to get Fuuta’s crime and motive pretty succinctly, only based on the visuals - But it still leaves a lot up to interpretation, like how he only attacked once in the final fight scene. It lead to some cool theories. - On that note, the game aspects are so cool!! Especially when paired with him going after people online, just good synergy with awesome style! - Fuuta’s scared face after he realizes what he did. The great contrast of other foes simply being knocked out then being met with blood splatter. - The tempo of the song changing with his mood is a really good touch as well. Make the song more chaotic which highlights his character traits well

---

"propaganda for bring it on: the music FUCKS it genuinely slaps so hard listening to it. song style is incredible its perfect for fuutas personality and gamer vibes. also the way the mv frames everything as a game? the only time real blood and real gore happens being when killcheroy dies? the little details of all the usernames, the different monster designs, the generally distorted feel of everything being too lighthearted?

okay i could go on about the mv for hours but lets not. aside from that: the FEEL of the song!!! the vocals!!!! it really feels like fuuta putting his whole heart into it, into this point of view that both blows problems out of proportion and minimises them, and DEEPLY fucking up. my darling little hypocrite gamer boy twitter user. he makes his witch hunt genuinely sound like something that could sweep people up into it. also the instruments goddddd. the guitar and synth the bass and the drums the DRUMS. im relistening to it to write this propaganda and it keeps making me headbang when i should be writing. if you arent headbanging to bring it on you are LYING.

the way the lyrics are written is wonderful too!!!! they feel so brash and brave and powerful and like. cocky about it. and it fits PERFECTLY. its gets someone swept up into it and it FUCKS. vote bring it on im serious. lets go!! a victory march!! dan da dan!!"

Propaganda for AFTER PAIN:

"so here is why people should vote for AFTER PAIN !!"

Muu's vocals. Need I say more?

The bridge to it is absolutely wonderfully done, the way she softens her vocals to an almost creepy point is incredible

during the final chorus you can hear the desperation in her voice and it’s very well portrayed

The coloring in this music video were phenomenal

The overlapping vocals at the end of the song just have a really really nice effect

Its just a pure banger

In some parts of the song there’s the sound of a clock ticking in the background used as a sort of beatline… GENIUS??

Its just a banger

even with what we found out about Muu in her second trial, After Pain on its own portrayed bullying in a very realisitc and artistic way (from someone who deals with it regularly)

---

"After pain propoganda: She just girlbossed too close to the sun and happened to be holding a knife at the time"

---

"Gosh everything about After Pain... How can you NOT like it? It's literally such a good song and is very singable. The instrumentation is absolutely amazing and I've listened to it on loop so much."

[blitzyn]

payback pt.2

venti's gnosis x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: Despite your mind's protests, your body craved something different.

first part

a/n -> technically this isnt a reader x anyone but its ventis gnosis so... i dont know how to feel about this tbh but i wouldnt say im ashamed LMAO. this suggestion actually reminds me of a childe x m reader fic i read a while ago. i dont remember much but reader was the hydro archon i think and childe fucked the shit out of him lol. and put readers gnosis inside him and took it then left. really shitty description but i cant find it anymore :( lets ignore the fact that using ventis gnosis - or any at all - would hurt pls

wc -> 1.6k

cw -> improper use of a gnosis??, anal fingering, masturbation, harbinger reader, not beta read

You hadn't done much after you boarded the large boat that would send you back to Snezhnaya. You spent most of your time asleep within the confines of your designated room. There wasn't much, but it was definitely better than nothing.

You stared at the ceiling in boredom. There was no current use for you, so you had no way of spending your time. That was one of the things you disliked about being a Harbinger. You were rarely able to develop or pursue hobbies and interests outside your field of work, so when you had free time, you were always unsure of what to do.

You usually resorted to helping one of the others if they needed it (if they were around) - minus Dottore, Sandrone, and Pierro. Tsaritsa knows you would never understand what they do. But you're by your lonesome, now. So it's just you and your thoughts.

You swallowed hard when you thought back to a few days prior to your departure. You tried hard to recall something else, but the memory seemed to persist. With the disadvantage of having nothing to keep you occupied, you were given no choice but to remember the event that took place in Windrise.

Goosebumps littered your flesh at the recollection of the barrage of sensations forced upon your body. The fresh air, the chilled stone against your back, the warmth of the Anemo Archon's body close to yours...

You could feel your face heating up when you remembered the ecstasy he made you feel. In shame or arousal, you didn't know.

You loudly groaned and hid your face within your hands, completely contrasting your professional title as a Harbinger. The memory seemed to appear more vividly the harder you tried to forget about it, which left you in a state of lust and confusion. Pleasure dropped in your stomach like a rock when you slowly began to succumb to the memory's hold.

You dragged a hand down your torso as you let it play over and over again, tentatively placing a hand over your hardening cock to give it a light squeeze. A sigh left your lips as you gently palmed yourself through your clothes, relishing in the mild waves of pleasure that coursed through you.

You rubbed yourself for a few moments longer before you began to crave something more, though you took your time removing the bottom half of your clothes. You were a bit surprised to see a small wet patch already forming through the fabric of your boxers. Maybe the god was right. You must've enjoyed it more than you admitted.

The thought sent the heat of irritation into your chest, making you furrow your eyebrows and grind your teeth. But you had something to deal with at the moment. You could dwell in your anger another time.

You let out a shaky exhale as you finally began to stroke your dick, gathering droplets of precum to make it smoother. It throbbed fervently in your hand, hips lightly jutting upwards. You used your other hand to massage and squeeze your balls.

You subconsciously bit your lip when you began to release quiet grunts and moans. Although you knew the walls were made of the sturdiest and thickest wood in Snezhnaya, you didn't want to risk letting others know what you were doing.

You brought up your other hand and placed two fingers in your mouth to suck on them. Deeming them wet enough, you took them out and hesitantly prodded at your hole. You weren't lying when you said that you've never been the one to be fucked before. But this lack of knowledge wasn't enough to deter you from continuing.

It was a strange sensation now that you were given enough time to actually process it. You were slightly expecting the same burn from before, but was pleasantly surprised to find out that there was none. Slowly, you began moving your fingers in a steady rhythm, getting used to the feeling.

You accidentally let out a loud moan when your fingers brushed up against a small bump, a shock of pleasure running through your body. You continued to press up against it while jerking yourself off. You moved your hands faster, trying to raise yourself up to your orgasm, but you were unable to push yourself over the edge.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you momentarily paused. You needed to get rid of your erection before the ship docked. You couldn't just leave it and hope that it goes down on its own, and you were far too into this to ignore it.

You looked around your room. There wasn't anything that could help you reach your orgasm.

Slightly turning your head to the left, your eyes were met with the teal Gnosis you had stolen. You pursed your lips and contemplated your next move.

"Fuck it," you lowly muttered and reached for the item. Holding it by the crown, you spat on your free hand and smeared your saliva over it. Before you could give yourself time to think about what you were doing, you began pushing it inside you.

The details on the Gnosis heightened your pleasure, relishing in the way it dragged against your insides. You stroked your cock, rubbing a thumb over the head to spread your precum. You sighed when you finally managed to get it all the way inside you – save for the crown part.

Opening your legs just a bit wider, you pulled it out of you just to push it back in, setting a comfortable pace. You sped up your other hand, the mix of erotic squelching and quiet slaps reverberating through the room.

The familiar heat in your abdomen intensified with each passing second. Your back arched in ecstasy and a sensation akin to electricity ran up and down your spine. Momentarily peering down at the Gnosis, you faintly questioned if the god could feel what you were doing. It was highly unlikely, but one could wonder.

You shifted your wrist holding the item, and it suddenly felt like fire was rushing through your body. You bit your lip harder and heavily breathed through your nose and continued your assault against your prostate. It was hard trying to keep quiet, and you think you would've let your voice out if it weren't for the fact you had your status to uphold and pride to keep.

You could feel your body tensing the closer you got to your orgasm, moving the slightest bit faster.

You were so close. Just a few moments more, and –

"Lord Harbinger," someone said from behind the door. "We will be arriving in an hour."

You ignored them in hopes they would leave it at that, but they seemed to be concerned with your lack of answer.

"My Lord?"

You knew you should've stopped to reply, but you opted not to. Not when you were already so close. Your cock throbbed fervently in your hand, weeping copious amounts of precum for you to rub your palm and thumb over.

It was exhilarating. Knowing that the one behind the door could be persistent enough to possibly hear what you were doing. If they ever did find out, they would no doubt tell their friends and start the wildfire of rumor.

You nearly choked on your spit when your orgasm finally washed over you. You continued to stroke your dick to ride out your high, your cum spurting over your abdomen and hand. You tightened considerably around the Gnosis and found it difficult to move it any further.

"Is everything okay in there?"

You thought they left, already. An annoyed huff left your lips as you rolled your eyes. Pulling the item out of you, you tossed it somewhere on the bed and cleaned yourself with a handkerchief.

The person jumped in surprise when you flung the door open.

"Don't speak to me as if we're friends," you said. A mix of fear and surprise contorted their face as they nodded vigorously.

"My deepest apologies," their voice was weak. "I just wanted to tell you that we will–"

"I heard you."

"Right. Well, then..." they trailed off. With a rushed bow, they hurried away.

You closed the door and turned around to face the bed. You sat down on it and ran a hand through your hair. Now that the overwhelming feeling of lust dissipated, you were overtaken with shame and guilt. You deeply questioned why you would ever do such a thing. Especially when you had to turn it in to Her Majesty.

You grabbed the Gnosis and examined it. It was still slick with your fluids.

You wondered if this was considered very disrespectful as you wiped it with the clean part of your handkerchief. Oh, well. It's not like you're going to see him again any time soon.

Rising from the bed, you put your thick fur coat on and hid the Gnosis within it. The frigid air of Snezhnaya was biting and unforgiving, but years of living in this weather heightened your tolerance for it. You traversed the cold boat in search of a restroom, swiftly entering one when you found it.

You thoroughly scrubbed the Gnosis with your fingers under the freezing water. They were numb by the time you decided it was clean. You dried it off on your coat and stared at yourself in the mirror.

Now you really couldn't let anybody know about this.

cross-posted on ao3

[pinazee]

Black and Tan: A Crime of Fashion

The MELANIE LYNSKY episode! (Or at least thats what i call it. upon seeing her on screen for 0.2 seconds i knew she was going to get pretty big. She’s such a phenomenal actress.) I honestly lowkey shipped her with shawn. She was so sweet and i feel like it brought out some of the sweet in shawn too. Shes also a character i wish would come back one day, like they do a murder mystery movie and they’re on her yacht or something idk shes really good friends with them all still, they could make it happen :)

Lassie has given up. He has resigned himself to his fate that Shawn will always be up in his shit for the rest of eternity.

LOOK HOW MUCH FUN DULÉ IS HAVING HERE! OHMYGOD HE FUCKING KILLED ME IN THIS EP!

why am i surprised he knows the name of the model in downtown Santa Barbara and is a huge fan? Im starting to see why Gus is single. He gets way too obsessed, but also, Shawn wasn’t kidding when he told that one chick he was willing to change everything about himself. This also adds a nice layer to Gus’s character because we see part of him wants that exclusivity and prestige. He wants to feel like someone others admire, which is brilliantly contrasted with Shawns more down to earth not really caring what others think vibes.

And speaking of contrasts, i love this bit; not only because its funny, but because it feels like a great metaphor for how shawn and gus approach life. Gus is trying so hard to win and Shawn doesn’t care and the outcome is the same.

And i think its so funny whenever Gus gets so obsessed with whatever world their exploring hes pretty much useless and Shawn has to be the rational one.

Every once in a while psych will do this POV shot in shawns perspective thats not being used to point out a clue and i think its really cool. I wish they would have done some more like it because its such a great way to show how shawns constantly aware of his surroundings even when he’s not on a case.

And this was brilliant! It has to be one of the best psych-outs in all of of Psych! Fucking legendary!

And this was brilliant too!

I felt so bad for shawn, playing middle man between henry and karen (which is the most unprofessional thing shes done haha), but it gave henry and shawn one of their best scenes at the end when henry is practically begging shawn to understand, like you can almost sense that he wants to confess right there that it was maddie who abandoned the family not him (or maybe im seeing that because i know its the truth. 🤷‍♀️) and shawn just doesn’t want to deal with it. Its interesting that henry was dragging shawn into it though, like he was using it as a way to see if shawn was okay with it now, cause otherwise he could have asked his friends right? It didn’t have to be shawn.

Honestly it shouldn’t have been. He knew it made him uncomfortable and he kept telling him to stop asking, but like always henry pushed it.

(Oh and also this kind of adds to the mystery of how well karen and henry know each other because she seems keenly invested in it, plus, when her friend told her he left a message she said that sounded like henry. So she must know him well enough that she can say this casually. Sidenote: that moment karen opens the door and Shawn looks horrified was priceless!)

Lastly, its interesting that shawn is proud to have never been in therapy when his mom is a psychologist. I feel like she would have instilled in him a better understanding of what therapy does and that its not something to be ashamed of. Likely the writers just hadn’t figured out maddies profession yet, but still.

P.S Everyone look at his jaw!

[fernlessbastard]

im the psychotic wilbur anon (forgot to note im paranoid schitzo and i see myself so much in him ANYWAYS) BUT CWILBUR BPD FOR THE WORLD. (< ALSO BPD.) hottest take is that him and quackity are bpd4bpd and a huge part of their relationship is a learning curve figuring out how to navigate communication with each other and each others splits and such. i also think that wilbur tends to black split on HIMSELF more often, and quackity tends to black split on OTHERS more often. i also think that wilbur white splitting on quackity would be a whole nother thing they have to deal with, with wilbur suddenly being like "you are literally god to me and the only person who loves and cares about and understands me you are the greatest human being alive please let me worship you i love you so much" and quackity just being like "woag dude" LIKE. also im so so so for real wilbur has so much paranoid schitzo swag i dont know how to explain that this man is fucking TEXTBOOK paranoia and he has so many paranoid anxiety habits that make me feel insane. i think he always makes sure to lock the door and check the lock like six times when he comes home and he cant sleep at night if hes alone in the house so he barely slept in paradise and didnt sleep right until he moved in with quackity, i think he has really severe paranoia about imposters and intruders and also barely slept and was constantly on high alert in pogtopia and he could only really sleep when quackity visited or if tommy or technoblade shared a mat with him, i think he also has delusions of grandeur that he has to deal with a lot and reality checking him can be really dangerous especially coupled with his bpd because he then SNAPS to black splitting on himself so hard he makes himself sick, ohhhh cwilbur my sickly man i adore you so sorry for being insane in your inbox

The first ask in question

(Ok so as a disclaimer obviously headcanons are personal and there's no wrong ones and you're valid for reading it this way)

With Wilbur I very much agree, but I don't see bpd in Quackity tbh. It more so looks like ADHD alongside shit like abandonment issues, being invalidated his entire life, being generally overworked and having no healthy outlet for his feelings, having trouble identifying said feelings in the first place, etc - all of which are very common in/characteristic of ADHD. I don't remember him ever splitting. His shitty love life makes sense with ADHD too - deficiency of dopamine makes it very easy to mistake the dopamine boost from "new person to talk to" for a crush (believe me). Hypersexuality is also common in ADHD, as well as emotional dysregulation, alexithymia (difficulty/inability to identify one's own emotions), overstimulation, shutdowns, etc, which can occasionally resemble splitting, but is very different, and works through exhaustion and frustration rather than delusions. Various types of paranoia as well as heightened irritability are also very common, especially when your senses are clouded by sensory/information/emotional overstimulation. And especially the splitting outwards part just doesn't sit right with me - maybe i missed a stream or sth but I haven't seen anything like that in him. Furthermore I'd actually say he generally points negative feelings/breakdowns etc inwards for the most part - and when ADHD is being pointed inwards it usually leads exactly to developing/heightening shit like paranoia, rejection sensitivity, hypersexuality, emotional dysregulation, alexithymia, etc. He can snap and isolate himself, but it's very different to splitting. ALSO - very important part - Quackity doesn't exhibit mania episodes. He occasionally exhibits the type of hyperactivity and excitement representative of ADHD, but it's never this state of delirium with feelings of grandeur, delusions, etc. Wilbur does exhibit mania episodes - pretty heavily at that - and the contrast makes it pretty apparent that Quackity's case is different.

THAT BEING SAID I don't have bpd, so for a perspective from someone who does, here's a rant from @octobre-ackedia: <<On so many levels, Quackity doesn't show bpd symptoms. Not all abandonment issues are borderline personality disorder. I don't think I need to say it, but bpd takes over the entire life of a person, it's not just trauma. And I don't really have much to elaborate on with the ask, mostly showing Wilbur's bpd traits but that's for an entirely different rant, and I need to chill out. Quackity doesn't black split on others. It was not shown a single time. He slowly loses trust in people, he builds walls, but that's not splitting. He doesn't start to irrationally hate everyone around himself, think that people are just cruel and bad, and more importantly don't care about him, suddenly becoming aggressive towards them. He backs off a little bit more with each disappointment in people around him, ending up not so much hating, as avoiding human relationships. And he doesn't have a favourite person, not even Slime who was just so perfectly there to be an example of that. Quackity learnt how to trust the guy, building a friendship, but never became truly "obsessed" with him. He grieved his death, tried to save him, but FFS, that's not a favourite person, that's how human relationships work (or more so, hybrid relationships haha). He doesn't get manic. You could say he becomes strongly confident, hypersexual or overworking himself, but the important part in it is the reasoning. He doesn't start believing he is some sort of a saviour for the world and can build a perfect country, or that he doesn't need anyone for that. He starts a project and might go overboard with it, but it's never this... aggressive as with bpd. With the 9 most visible symptoms, he has maybe 3 of them, which are all clear reactions to specific situations. Unstable relationships? Schlatt became an abuser, Karl and Sapnap abandoned him, he never really influenced any of that happening. The abandonment issues and feeling of emptiness are simple reactions to that trauma. His moves are calculated, he doesn't really show any mood swings, he has a quite clear image of himself, he doesn't experience any suicide ideation or shows extreme examples of self harm/putting himself in danger. And what about the part of splitting when he pushes people away after getting scared of becoming too close? He always stays, in the end. Even when he tried so hard not to get attached to Slime. Where's the white splitting? Where's anything, really. I still stand with the headcanon of them having to navigate a hard relationship, with both of them experiencing severe mental issues, but it's not bpd4bpd. Q is my depressed ADHD bitch, who struggles with trauma.>>

Also I'd say Wilbur's heavily autism coded too - as a bonus it does frequently "strengthen" bpd cause of the type of trauma autistic people experience. Q I see as very much ADHD but I also low-key hc him as somewhere on the spectrum too, though I'm not as heavily set on that

Tldr while Wilbur absolutely clearly has some severe mental issues, Quackity's seem (to me at least) to be more easily and consistently explainable by a combination of ADHD (maybe low support needs autism) and some (pretty damn severe (canonically - looking mainly at all the abandonment + sa hints)) trauma

[dangopango00]

The Amazing Digital Circus and Escapism

A/N: Just watched and I LOOVEEEE cooking theories for these kinda of Youtube Series even if they turn out to be wrong so Heres the incomprehensible youtube comment I made just now bye

I like to put preliminary theories for series like this and my theory for this is that the circus is some kind of representation of escapism and/or maladaptive daydreaming

1. There's a shit ton of religious symbolism, maybe suggesting that the circus is supposed to be “heaven” although it has underlying hellish elements. For example, cain being portrayed as god and the fact that he doesn’t seem to really get why anyone would want to leave. In contrast, his name references the brother of abel who was cursed by god for his jealous rage. Not only this but, how everything is generally upbeat but there are momentary mental breaks when they are brought back to reality.

2. Reality is often blurred: The characters are real people but its suggested the lines are easily blurred like in the fact that pomni gets attached to a character that was never real to begin with or the fact that cain hints that it can be hard to tell the difference between real characters and npcs

3. Anecdotal but the fact that everyone seems to have a different vision for how the adventures should be played out: Jax wants action and violence, ragatha just wants something stimulating and pomni wants something comforting; the fact that jax gets upset when his vision isn't fulfilled feels very similar to mishaps when maladaptive daydreaming

4. Glitches and the video game setting overall: Idk if its just me but in maladaptive daydreaming its very easy for the mind to wander or mess up, causing a “glitch” in the story which I think is very similar to the glitches in the show

More UTC

5. The concept of VR itself is pretty much one step away from active escapism and although a bit of a stretch, I think the fact that the characters can’t take off their headset references their unwillingness to live in reality rather than actually being forced

6. Character behavior: How pomni goes from extremely weirded out to accepting and even slightly enjoying the circus feels very reminiscent of how it feels to first start maladaptive daydreaming as its an entirely odd thing to do but when you get into it it turns out to be fun and you keep doing it for hours. Ragatha is also interesting because she seems to ignore reality in favor of keeping herself sane, even ignoring devastating truths she realizes when she moves on from her mental breaks so quickly which is pretty much what maladaptive daydreaming is.

7. Exit: When pomni makes it to the exit and sees the desk setup with the headset, she began to lose her mind and instead of going forward to the next door she started going back (i think). I think this was her momentarily remembering how she felt like nothing in real life but in the circus she could be the main character (i think she struggled with feeling like nothing in the real world because of how much she brings it up and sympathizes with gummigoo, probably feeling like an npc irl) though either way she leaves the scene, likely not wanting to remember how her life was before.

8. Abstraction: Since we haven’t seen much of it Im still not completely sure but if I had to guess— I think abstraction is when you completely separate yourself from reality and live in a daydream full time since abstraction means “The quality of dealing with ideas rather than events” which is pretty much what escapism is; I think abstraction is likely a state of complete delusion as is hinted in the show by saying people who abstract are crazy

Overall I think the digital circus is probably either about escapism in general and/or a commentary on how we distract ourselves from serious topics almost as if we are children protecting ourselves from real life.

[matcha-kathrin]

STRANGERS - Chapter 3

Summary: You meet the stranger. Again. Two times was silly, but now three times? And of all places, you really had to meet in a laundromat in the dead of night. Although, something is changing, You fear you might no longer be strangers, after all. 

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader. 

Notes/Warnings: Eyyyy no warnings, just a lot of deep talks and slight fluff. I say fluff but these two have basically just touched hands like ONCE so. I did put a bit of characterization onto the reader I hope ya’ll don’t mind, it’s for story sake. Also by now im fully convinced the reader is just blind cuz there is no way you wouldn’t recognize Pedro right away. Humor me though.

Word Count: 3.5k

Please read Part One and Part Two before proceeding.

~*~

STRANGERS - Chapter Three

 The one thing you hated about living in New York was how hard it was for apartments to come with washers and driers. Now you weren’t picky, a washer by itself would’ve been enough, but not having either? It was hell. Mostly because you had to walk down the street from your apartment to the closest laundromat there was, pray that not all the machines were occupied, and that by some miracle your clothes didn’t get ruined halfway through the wash. You hated laundry day.

Or more like night. You were hauling your big plastic grocery bag filled with all of your dirty clothes over your shoulders, the slightly chilly air making you see your breath clearly in front of you. You didn’t mean to lose track of time but as soon as you clocked out from your day job the sun was nowhere to be seen and dinner time had passed. And if you didn’t wash your clothes before the day was well and gone…you’d be ruined. Your fate may very well be hanging in the balance.

It was quite funny actually, as you made your way clumsily through the street you saw the yellow sign of your usual laundromat and you were filled with comfort. Your mom used to tell you how laundromats were a place where you were destined to meet people. Other people just like you, who were broke or had no washer, who were just trying to get by in such a big, lively city as this. Or maybe it was a place where you were destined to waste two hours of your time waiting for your clothes to get washed, only for them to freeze in the night air on your way back home.

Maybe she was right, you had always thought that the most mundane places held beauty within them, that any story could begin in a dull, brightly lit laundromat. Maybe it was the hour and maybe you were a bit sentimental but there was something magical about how the blinding light shone out of the windows and onto the damp street as you approached. The empty benches inside making you ease up, at least you didn’t have to deal with spending two hours meeting people as your mom romanticized you would. There was something about the contrast from the windows and the dark streets that held a suspense in the air. As if once you’d click on the machine time would stop, the songs playing in your headphones the only proof of time passing. And for a moment, a brief, eternal moment you’d be the only person in the world. Alone. Sitting in a laundromat.

As you opened the door, struggling to get in with the huge bag on your shoulders the bell that hung above you rung, signaling your entrance. Why a self-service laundromat even had a bell was beyond you.

Unfortunately, the sound was ultimately what ruined your expectations for the night. Because for some crazy reason you weren’t alone. And as soon as the bell had rung the head you saw peaking from behind one of the rows of washing machines looked up. You had to double take.

“No fucking way.” You spoke, the silence that had engulfed the small self-service store broken by your disbelief “Are you stalking me?” You asked as you looked at the all too familiar stranger with concern.

He looked at you from under his…again his sunglasses and squinted, as if he couldn’t make out your face from the other side of the cramped room. Once he did realize who you were his brows lifted, also looking completely and utterly dumbfounded.

“Are you stalking me?” he countered.

“This is my laundromat!”

“I don’t see your name on it.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” You sighed, dragging your overflowing bag until you reached one of the tables, lifting it up in a huff and letting it fall with a low thud. “What are you even doing here at this hour?”

“My washer broke, what are you doing here at this hour?” The way he repeated your questions with a small smirk irked you, but then again you were glad it was him and not some other strange man. Of course, the one standing in front of you in what looked like his pajamas wearing those godforsaken glasses was looking stranger by the second. But even with his ridiculous clothing and his even messier hair you couldn’t help the feeling that settled in your stomach when you locked eyes.

There had to be something wrong with you. You thought the second time you spoke not even a week ago was just a silly coincidence. A beautiful silly coincidence in which you wished you had stayed longer, but as you recalled it a small feeling of anxiety settled in you. If you had stayed then the night would have ended differently. Very differently. The mere thought of it making you shudder.

These coincidences were getting a bit too numerous for it not to be weird. Then again he did look like a man who’s washer had broken.

“I happen to not own a washer, thank you very much.” You answered finally, looking at him with suspicion, as if he had planned this whole encounter all along.

“Don’t look at me like that my washer really did break! In the middle of a cycle too, I couldn’t just leave dirty wet clothes laying around the house.” He laughed nervously; he was probably worried you actually thought him to be a stalker. Little did he know you were very good at reading people, you knew he wasn’t ill intentioned. You could tell by his absolute puzzled look he had on his face when you walked it. That or maybe because you noticed the slight glee that came afterwards when he realized it was you.

He watched you pull out your clothes and stuff them in what seemed to be the cleanest washer there was, as you hummed, unconvinced by his plea. “I suppose. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“No complaints from me.” He smiled, but when you sent him a look it just dropped, and he averted his gaze.

You really didn’t mean to be so defensive, but it was really late, and the whole situation was really weird.

“What about you?” he asked after a moment, and you sighed again.

“I told you I don’t have a washer.”

“And you had to wash your clothes tonight did you?” He arched his brow, this time he was the one who was unconvinced. You pursed your lips, if only he knew why you so desperately needed to get this done. The reason for your nightly adventure happened into your hand then, a beautiful dress, one that was gifted to you. He noticed the way you hesitated when you pulled it out and saw how fast you threw it in the washer with the rest of your clothes.

“That looks pretty, is that why you need to wash your clothes so desperately?” He chuckled, you hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer until he sat on the bench next to you, looking up at you in interest.

“No.” You replied quickly, then huffed “Yes I – I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“What is?”

“Me. Being here at this hour, trying to wash a stupid dress I probably won’t even get to wear.” You didn’t realize just how much the whole thing disturbed you, and your dear stranger was looking at you so utterly confused. If he could’ve chosen the worst moment to come to your laundromat, it was this. You were probably on the verge of breakdown; but you’d be damned if you’d let anyone, let alone him, see.

“When were you going to wear it?” His voice was soft, not amused by your little fit of emotions but almost…concerned? It was warm as it rung low, and somehow you had instantly felt better. Or worse, you couldn’t decide.

“Tomorrow night. I have…” You hesitated, looking at him as if choosing your next words carefully “an event to attend. I was going to get it washed properly but I lost track of time, knowing my luck it’ll probably get ruined halfway through the wash.” You placed the rest of the clothing inside the machine and shut it well, inserting the coins and detergent it needed and then pressed the button to start it up.

Then you plopped down next to him, not caring if you were sitting a tad bit too close to the stranger, a distance no two strangers would ever sit at. He just watched you as you did.

“I’ll just wear something else. It’s not that important.”

“It sounds important.” He nudged, his words letting you know you could find solace in speaking with him. You smiled tiredly.

“It’s just a hobby. I shouldn’t even get so worked up about it.”

“A hobby can still be important.” He mused.

“Not if you’re like me. Not if you need to have infinite things to do or else you feel completely meaningless.” You exaggerated, even though it was mostly true. He just chuckled, looking at your frustrated expression with affection.

“All my life they told me I had to pick one thing. One thing to do the rest of my life and be satisfied with it. Concentrate on one thing if you want to be successful.” You continued, his smile slowly fading as he heard the bitter tone you had.

“Who told you?”

“Anyone. Everyone. But did I listen? Of course not, I just had to move here and believe I could have it all, work on anything I desired and somehow be good at all of it. The best even.”

He hummed, his shoulder slightly brushing against yours as you let your head rest on the back of the window looking out to the street, the red bench was worn and uncomfortable under you. You could even see the paint chipping at its edges. Although somehow with him by your side, it felt like the most comfortable place on earth.

“Sounds like you’re ambitious. That’s one more thing I know of you now.”

“That and that I don’t own a washer. Or a drier.” You scoffed.

“Well at least you know mines broken. That makes us even.”

“I feel better already.” You quipped sarcastically, he nudged your shoulder playfully when you did, making you smile.

“I don’t think it’s wrong you know, doing many different things. I- I’ve done a lot of different things too.” He added almost shyly, and you turned your head to look at him, surprised by his sudden bashfulness.

“Are you any good at them?” You asked almost by default. He didn’t seem like the type to be ambitious, then again you didn’t really know what he seemed like.

“I- yeah. I am.” He sounded unsure, his words truthful but as his eyes met yours he squinted slightly, as if he couldn’t quite understand something. You just frowned. Choosing to ignore the exceedingly small distance between you.

“Well at least one of us is.” You sighed.

“Do you really not know who I am?” The question falling from his lips even before he could catch himself, your brows furrowed. And you remembered once again just how familiar he looked.

“I don’t think so, am I supposed to?”

“Not necessarily.” It was his turn to sigh, his shades dropped loosely on his nose couldn’t hide the fact he seemed almost…disappointed?

“Do you know who I am?” You asked, still unsure if he might be stalking you or not. But your very sincere question was met with a bark of laughter.

“I wish. But no, I don’t.” His answer made your heart skip a slight bit faster, he wished he knew you? Or maybe he wished you were exactly as you appeared to be. Expectations could be a dangerous thing.

“So, what is this hobby that’s got you so down? Doesn’t sound like a good one.”

“It’s not the hobby that is the problem,” You chuckled finally, feeling the heat that had rose to your cheeks slightly subside “it’s the fact I can’t dedicate as much time to it as I’d want.”

He waited patiently for you to continue, even though you had hoped he’d let the question drop. For strangers’ sake and all that. But you were too tired and, just as you suspected, time seemed to stand still in the brightly lit laundromat. If you sat still enough you could hear the light buzz of the lamps illuminating the both of you. They never flickered but the sound made you think that at any moment the light would just go out. And you’d be there, in the dark, sitting awfully close to the stranger until your shoulders touched. Feeling the heat emanating from him pass on to you. The line you both had chosen not to cross the only thing keeping you both in your place. But you wondered if in the dark you’d risk it all, maybe in the darkness you’d feel less accountable, less exposed. Maybe you had already crossed the line a while ago, you weren’t really sure when.

“I- it’s a student film screening. It’s some sort of small film festival that’s gonna be held tomorrow night.”

“You study film?” He seemed surprised, you laughed nervously at his question.

“No…I actually- am in it.” You admitted shyly, your hands rubbing on your knees as you pulled them to your chest, you don’t know why but every time you admitted you acted on the side it sounded so stupid. But you loved it, even if it was just a hobby you dedicated little to no time in.

“You’re in the film? You act?” He sounded so astonished you had to lift your head from its resting position and look at him curiously.

“Yeah? I mean, I just dabble in it.” You shrugged, “Stupid isn’t it?”

“No, of course not! It’s good to have hobbies like that.” He reassured, you felt the small knot in your stomach loosen as he did, you don’t know why but his approval seemed important to you. Even if you didn’t know his name. It was comforting, that much you knew.

“I guess,” you lulled, not convinced but much more at ease that he didn’t laugh at you “I guess I just…feel like if I don’t do things I won’t matter. I’m terrified that if I try my hardest I still won’t be good enough. I’m terrified that if- that if I don’t give my life a meaning then there’s no point to all of-” You stopped, looking around yourself, word failing to meet your thoughts “this.”

“And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m wrong to think I can be satisfied only by pursuing whatever fool-hardy thing that pops into my head, but what should I do? Not try?” You continued after a moment. And you worried you said too much. You worried that no matter how you twisted the words around your sentiment you would never get it across. The feeling in itself was not something you could explain, it was nothing and everything. It was an overwhelming desire for everything and nothing. You weren’t even sure what you wanted in the first place.

His gaze had softened as you rambled, he didn’t see you as the type to get so lost in questions of meaning or importance. In fact, when he had met you in the two separate bars you seemed like the only person who knew your place, enjoying the vibrance of the lives all around you. Yet here you were, spilling so much uncertainty he couldn’t help but look at you with sullen eyes. How he wished he could comfort you, but to you he was no one, and he liked that he meant nothing to you, but hated it at the same time.

“To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong.” He cited, and you hummed. Your thoughts dying down and blurring with the sounds of the machines. “Who said that?”

“Can’t remember. But it’s true. If you’re afraid that what you’re doing is wrong you’ll never get to where you need to go. I think it’s amazing when someone can wake up each day and reinvent themselves, and who said you can’t? Whomever it was only knows what they have lived, and if they’ve lived a life doing one thing then good for them, but that doesn’t mean you have to.” You looked at him as he finished, as if you couldn’t really believe he was there. He was the first person who told you anything of the sort. The first to say you didn’t have to do what everyone else was doing if you didn’t want to. It made you want to keep him there, with you. You wanted to hear his low voice whisper into your ear all night. Feel his hands feverishly caress your skin.

But you pushed the feeling aside.

“The world is your oyster.” You snorted, and he huffed out a laugh alongside you, nodding. It was funny, but you didn’t really know when you had reached the point where you two could joke after spilling intense thoughts about life. But maybe that’s what it had always been from the start. Just two strangers contemplating notions they would rather share then keep to themselves, only to tease and joke about it after. Maybe it was a way to cope with the fact that you’ll never have the answers. You’ll never know if what your doing is right or wrong, and maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t need to know. Maybe just existing, in this space as time seem suspended, next to a stranger in an empty laundromat was enough. For the first time, you felt okay simply existing.

“Can I come?” He asked finally, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the machines. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, your eyes following the swirling of the washer in front of you, until he spoke, and they snapped to his.

“What?”

“Can I come- to the event. Tomorrow night.”

You looked at him incredulously, this was uncharted territory, and it was making your heart pick up in your chest. “I don’t even know if I’m going. My dress will probably still be drying by tomorrow night.”

“I bet you it’ll dry in time.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes in amusement.

“Oh yeah? What’re we betting then?” You whispered, leaning in slightly. You could’ve sworn his eyes had lowered for a moment to your lips. But when you blinked they were looking straight into your eyes again. You must’ve imagined it.

“Hmm…” He clearly pretended to think about it for a moment, turning his head and placing a finger on his chin in thought. For some reason you knew already what he was going to say.

“If your dress is dry by tomorrow nights’ event- you’ll tell me your name.”

You froze. You knew it was coming yet you did nothing to stop it. Maybe you didn’t want to, because the way he gazed at you while your brain processed the bet was enough to convince you. Maybe it would be different, this time. Maybe you didn’t have to play a game just to keep things interesting. Not everything had to be, and certainly not with him. He was always there in the perfect moments, the perfect encounters. It was like meeting someone that had nothing to do with you and talk as if you had known each other forever. Granted you did most of the talking, he tended to just sit there and tease.

You didn’t mind. And you didn’t think he did either.

“Fine. But if my dress is not dry by then I win, and you’ll have to tell me yours.”  

He didn’t answer, just shrugged, and extended his hand for you to shake. You lifted yours and clasped it gently around his, once again relishing in the feeling of his skin against yours. You’d never figure out why he had that effect on you. He just did.

After you shook hands gently, competing in one of your many staring contests, you both shared a moment of comfortable silence looking at the two washers moving out of sync in front of you, one with his clothes, one with yours.

“You’d really come to see my film?” The way you asked, your voice full of disbelief, made his heart break a little.

“Of course.” He answered, never meaning something so much as he did then. You weren’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at you, but he could see the small smile that had formed on your lips from the corner of his eyes. No matter what it took he was going to that event, and if he could, he’d win the bet.

Even if it was utterly out of his control.

[parentsday]

i think david was a lot more like max as a kid but he softened the story he told to max nikki and neil in the car

thank you for the ask anon !! for your reference reading this made me grimace in a way that a wounded dog would upon seeing a piece of meat !! but seriously this is a topic that is very important to my personal and possibly general understanding of these two characters, so im just gonna say that i agree with you and such interpretation of david’s character is very easy to call accurate to canon as both david and max are written with obvious intent to be seen as parallels of one another, more so than they are written to be character foils.

max and david are set to be read as opposites in the show from the very start and i think this is also the easiest and safest way to perceive both of their characters if this shows meta doesn’t interest you. their standpoints and life views are seemingly removed as far away from each other as humanly possible and we are reminded of it more than necessary in the earlier content. the show tries really hard to make it look like david is an inherently good person put against max’s necessary evil, so it seems only right to view them this way. and yet the first two seasons of the show do a spectacular job at showing us that david is not at all as good of a person as he tries to be (not tries to appear, but tries to be, important bc first one is max’s perspective on david’s person while the second one is a description actually accurate to him). early seasons david is undeniably selfish and just as much of an asshole as max is, keep in mind that this is not my personal view on his character but a fact in canon that we are reminded of time and time again and is also something that gets lampshaded by the writers during the parents day episode. he pushes his positive perspective of the way things should be just as hard as max pushes his negative one, if not more, he behaves in his own personal interests instead of interests of others or the interests of camp constantly and guess who is the only other character in the show who does this just as often (the answer is max). the only reason why it’s not always easy to pin point this stuff is because they are constantly posed in situations that require them to act dissimilarly enough for it to create a contrast which isn’t always easy to pick up on as something intentionally vague and done for specific narrative purpose. this similarity extends onto the fact that they are both victims of abuse and the show is well aware of it and uses it to its own advantage. both max and david deal with their trauma in drastically different ways as seen by the way they talk about the world surrounding them, but the core of it is the same and that’s the important part of it.

so i believe it’s very safe to say that even if david didn’t say anything that would allude to him changing the story about his younger self to be nicer than it actually was, it sure was implied by the writers in the subtext of that episode, maybe in the subtext of the show in its entirety. early camp camp content surrounding these two based itself very heavily on david’s belief that his similarity to max is what will push this kid to become just like him in the future, so it really is not out of the left field to assume david was a lot more like max when he was younger. most probably because in many ways he still is just like him.

tldr; david sees himself in max in more ways than one and the show’s writing feels the same way because they intentionally wrote them to be as similar as possible. the writers rely heavily on these two being narrative parallels to make their characters work in the way they do so your headcanon is as real as it gets anon ^^